134 A BOOK-LOVER S HOLIDAYS 



Next morning, before sunrise, we were riding 

 eastward through the valley. For two or three 

 miles the ride suggested that through the 

 Yosemite, because of the abruptness with which 

 the high mountain walls rose on either hand, 

 while the valley was flat, with glades and woods 

 alternating on its surface. Then we got into 

 thick forest. The trees were for the most part 

 giant beeches, but with some conifers, includ 

 ing a rather small species of sequoia. Here and 

 there, in the glades and open spaces, there were 

 masses of many-hued wild flowers; conspicuous 

 among them were the fuchsias. 



A dozen miles on we stopped at another little 

 inn. Here we said good-by to the kind Chilean 

 friends who had accompanied us thus far, 

 and were greeted by no less kind Argentine 

 friends, including Colonel Reybaud of the Ar 

 gentine army, and Doctor Moreno, the noted 

 Argentine scientist, explorer, and educator. 

 Then we climbed through a wooded pass be 

 tween two mountains. Its summit, near which 

 lies the boundary-line between Chile and Argen 

 tina, is somewhere in the neighborhood of three 

 thousand feet high; and this is the extreme 

 height over which at this point it is necessary 

 to go in traversing what is elsewhere the mighty 

 mountain wall of the Andes. Here we met a 



