EXCURSIONS IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF QUITO. 
of rock, formed of indurated volcanic mat- 
ter, the course of which appears to have 
terminated at this point, and now forms a 
bank about forty feet above the bed of the 
river. It affords a curious instance of that 
propensity in man to turn his thoughts 
alike from past and future evils, when we 
see the inhabitants of Latacunga, on a soil 
composed of the eruptions of Cotopaxi, 
which is still smoking before them—amid 
the spoils of recent earthquakes, and with 
warning shocks, repeated almost monthly, 
quietly rebuilding on the same foundations, 
and raising up their fallen churches, as if 
they ** had taken a bond from fate.” 
Latacunga has been four times ruined b 
earthquakes, and twice buried beneath the 
eruptions of Cotopaxi : viz., in 1698, 1757, 
1797, and 1808; and in 1742 and 1768. 
In 1808 the earthquake seems to have been 
caused or accompanied by an explosion of 
the volcano. 
There is a spring near the town called 
in the Quichua language, Tembopoglio, 
“the spring that boils,” because it con- 
stantly buddles out of the ground: the in- 
habitants say it ceases previous to an 
earthquake. » Latacunga ıs rather lower 
than Quito, being 9,170 feet above the 
level of the sea, by M. Boussingault's baro- 
metrical measurement. 
The vicinity of Cotopaxi exposes it to 
chilling winds, and the general aspect, both 
of earth and sky, is cold and dreary. 
abounds with water, which percolates every 
where through the whole porous soil, and 
serves to irrigate numerous plantations of 
vetches, called Alfa/fares in the neigh- 
ourhood. e streams which descend 
from the ridge of Tiopulo, form the river 
which runs near the town, on which are 
the ruins of a handsome bridge, destroyed 
by the — of 1797. Its place is 
supplied by one of timber. The declivity 
of these waters is towards the South, until, 
joined by the river of Ambecto, they turn 
each through the valley of Baños, and find 
a passage through the mountains to the 
Maranon. 
[ava] 
e 
-The day after our arrival a friar of La 
Metied. called on us, to persuade us to ex- 
55 
amine a mine on his estate, of the value of 
which he endeavoured to convince us, by 
an assurance that, some years ago, a great 
philosopher (un gran sabio) had examined 
the hill in which it is situated with his te- 
lescope, and pronounced it extremely rich. 
e did not consider this telescopic view 
a sufficient motive to take us a day’s jour- 
ney; yet it was our fortune to be equally 
misled in another direction by the story of 
a burning lake, called Quintoa, distant from 
Latacunga ten leagues on the declivities of 
the Western Cordillera. We had a tire- 
some day’s ride across the Paramo, and 
descending to the bed of the Toache, pass- 
ed the night in the miserable farm-house 
of Pilaputzin, where we nestled like pigs 
among the straw, and the next morning vi- 
sited the lake, which is embedded in a co- 
nical hill, rising above the course of the 
river. But all the tales of its mephitic 
vapours and fiery exhalations had vanished 
as we drew near it, and we returned to 
Latacunga lamenting the propensity of the 
inhabitants to telling lies, and our own 
credulity in believing them. 
On the 30th of November we proceeded 
to Ambato, following the left bank of the 
river of Latacunga, through the village of 
San Miguel, and thence crossing to the 
right. Another road passes the river close 
to Latacunga, and crosses the small streams 
of Silanche and Nassichi, where they both 
unite. The country, though cultivated, 
has always a dry, barren aspect. Maize is 
chiefly sown, but often fails for want of rain, 
Nothing but the low price of the labour 
extorted from the Indians could render the 
greater part of these lands worth the ex- 
pense of tillage. The hedges are every 
where formed of the Agave, which flou- 
rishes luxuriantly on the dry and sandy 
WE vie the distance to Ambato is only 
eight leagues, every body complains of its 
length, wearied by its never-failing dust, 
heat, and monotony. In a rock, formed 
by the winding of a rapid river which de- 
scends from the snowy mountain of Car- 
guirago, at the feet of the sand-banks, now 
retired about a mile from its present chan- 
