78 NOTES OF A NATURALIST. 



slopes nothing met the eye more conspicuous than 

 the columnar stem of a cactus, or dense rigid tufts of 

 what I took to be a Bromeliaceous plant, most pro- 

 bably a species oi Puya. The sun had set, and dark- 

 ness was fast closing round us when the train came 

 suddenly to a standstill, and the intelligent American 

 guard informed us that a delay of at least twenty 

 minutes was required to set the locomotive in working 

 order. 



The accident was in every way fortunate. We 

 had just reached the Puente Infernillo, by far the 

 most striking scene on the whole route, rendered 

 doubly impressive when seen by the rapidly fading 

 light. The railway had here returned to the Rimac, 

 and is carried for a short distance along the right 

 bank. In front the river rushes out of a narrow cleft, 

 while on either hand the mountains rise to a pro- 

 digious height, with a steeper declivity than we had 

 as yet anywhere seen. With a lively recollection of 

 the Via Mala, the gorge of PfefYers, and other scenes 

 of a similar character, I could bring to mind none to 

 rival this for stern sublimity. The impassable chasm 

 that seemed to defy further advance, the roar of the 

 river in the deeply cut channel below, the impending 

 masses that towered up above us, leaving but a strip 

 of sky in view, combined to form such a representa- 

 tion of the jaws of hell as would have satisfied the 

 imagination of the Tuscan poet. To a botanist the 

 scene awoke verj' different associations. Before it 

 became quite dark I had captured several outposts of 

 the Andean flora, not hitherto seen. The beautiful 

 Tropceolum tuberosum, with masses of flowers smaller, 



