THE TABLE LAND OF BOGOTA. - 495 



There have been five eruptions of Pichincha since the Spanish conquest, the last 

 being in 1660. That of 1566 covered Quito three feet deep with ashes and stones, 

 while boiling water and bitumen poured forth in torrents. In 1867 the column of 

 smoke did not rise above the crest of the crater; but on the 19th of March, 1868, 

 violent rumblings were heard in Quito, followed three days afterward by great columns 

 of vapor. Since the great earthquake of August, 1868, the mountain has continued 

 to send forth columns of smoke, and so much fine sand that it was not possible to reach 

 the crater. It may be that the volcano is preparing to rouse itself from its slumber 

 of two centuries. The Quitonians, however, congratulate themselves that the edge of 

 the crater is considerably lower on the side facing the city ; so that should an erup- 

 tion occur, the volcano will pour its fiery contents away from them into the wilds 

 of the Esmeralda. 



We leave the valley of Quito, whose mighty surrounding volcanoes present one of 

 the most striking aspects of nature within the Tropical World. 



The next great table-land is that of Bogota. Its elevation is 8,700 feet above the 

 sea, 1,300 feet less than that of Quito; but although barely five degrees from the 

 equator, the climate is much colder. To reach the table-land^ we ascend the great 

 river Magdalena for three hundred and fifty miles, through a low country covered with 

 tropical vegetation; then, leaving the stream, we set our faces toward the mountain 

 range upon whose summit lies the table-land, fifty miles away, between us and it inter- 

 vening several sharp ridges, which might easily be skirted. But the road, with a 

 thorough contempt for all engineering devices, runs straight over them. In the course 

 of a single day we twice ascend a mountain 3,000 feet high, only to descend as far on 

 the opposite side, giving us in the space of twenty miles an unnecessary ascent of a 

 mile, and an equal descent. At length we come to the outer rim of the great plain 

 of Bogota, rising sheer up like a wall before us ; up this the path winds by sharp 

 turns and zigzags like a circular staircase. Pile the Catskills upon the summit of 

 Mount Washington, and then level off upon the summit a marshy plateau half as large 

 as the State of Connecticut, and heap around it mountains some thousands of feet 

 higher, and we have the great plain of Bogota, which the inhabitants believe to be the 

 most delightful spot on earth. 



The temperature of the plain is so low that it produces only a little wheat, grass, 

 barley, and a few esculent roots. The greater part of it is owned in vast estates by a 

 few rich land-holders, who have the reputation of being excessively stupid. The 

 people of the city call them Orejones, "Big-Ears." The markets of Bogota are sup- 

 plied mainly from the warm country below. An Indian and his wife will toil up the 

 steep path bearing enormous loads of fish or plantains, trudge across the weary breadth 

 of the marshy plain, occupying three days in the journey, and think themselves lucky 

 if they find a purchaser for their load. Sometimes these patient bearers will be seen 

 descending the mountains which tower above the city, loaded with plantains, oranges, 

 and other tropical productions. These could not have grown upon the mountains, but 

 have been brought over their summits from the warmer regions lying far down on the 

 opposite slopes. Bogotanos sometimes descend to the plains to thaw out. The 

 favorite place for pleasurable resort is the village of Fusagasuga, which lies far down 

 on the slope. To reach it one must first climb up a thousand feet higher than the 



