1Y8 The Andes and the Amazon. 



tonian friends, who turned out to see the largest expedition 

 that ever left the city for the wild Napo country since the 

 days of Pizarro. Few there were who expected to hear of 

 our safe arrival on the shores of the Atlantic. 



Crossing the magnificent plain of Inaquito, we reached 

 in an hour the romantic village of Guapulo. Here is an 

 elegant stone church dedicated to the Virgin of Guada- 

 loupe, to which the faitliful make an annual pilgrimage. 

 Thence the road led us through the valley of the Guailla- 

 bamba (a tributary to the Esmeraldas), here and there 

 blessed with signs of intelligent life— a mud hut, and lit- 

 tle green fields of cane and alfalfa, and dotted with trees 

 of wild cherry and myrtle, but having that air of sadness 

 and death-like repose so inseparable from a Quitonian 

 landscape. The greater part of this day's ride was over 

 a rolling country so barren and dreary it was almost re- 

 pulsive. Wliat a pity the sun shines on so much useless 

 territory ! 



Just before sunset we arrived at Itulcachi, a great cattle 

 estate at the foot of the eastern chain of mountains. The 

 hacienda had seen better days, and was poorly fitted to en- 

 tertain man or beast. The major-domo, however, managed 

 to make some small potato soup, and find us shelter for the 

 night. In the room allotted us there were three immense 

 kneading-troughs and two bread-boards to match, for a 

 grist-mill and bakery were connected with the establish- 

 ment. In default of beds, we made use of this furniture. 

 Five wiser men have slept in better berths, but few have 

 slept more soundly than we did in the bread-trays of Itul- 

 cachi. 



The following day we advanced five miles to Tablon, an 

 Indian hamlet on the mountain side. Here we waited over 

 night for our cargo train, which had loitered on the road. 

 This was the only spot in South America where we foimd 



