204 



THE OOLOGIST 



low. I met one or two pack trains go- 

 ing towards Bogota and as It is the 

 custom of the country to pass on the 

 left side, I was often forced within an 

 inch of the edge. Far below I could 

 see the tumbling river. The slightest 

 mistep of the horse or a crack in the 

 edge of the trail would mean certain 

 death yet one forgets the danger al- 

 ways, in the joy of living and travel- 

 ing over this trail. 



Sometimes I was within a stone's 

 throw of the river, sometimes three 

 thousand feet above it. The trail 

 crossed and recrossed the valley all 

 day long, but my general course was 

 south-east. At 3:30 p. m. I reached 

 Esmeralda's small posada by the trail. 

 Here they assured I should stay for 

 the night but I decided to go on and 

 take a chance on reaching another be- 

 fore dark, as the country was far too 

 inspiring to quit so early in the day. 

 Esmeralda is quite low in the valley, 

 but the trail rises rapidly again for 

 many hundred feet directly after leav- 

 ing it. In half an hour I was up again 

 on a very exciting trail. Several rain 

 storms were encountered when the 

 clouds would come low on the 11111"^ 

 but none of these lasted very long in 

 such an arid land. I cannot tell of this 

 particular trail. It must be ex- 

 perienced to be understood, so grand 

 is the scenery and the excitement of 

 traveling it. 



There was a noticeable scarcity of 

 birds all day, with the exception of 

 hummers which were ever abundant, 

 I noted a few anis, several beautiful- 

 ly colored jays, goldfinches, meadow- 

 larks, white-throats and vultures. The 

 walls of the cliffs along the trail were 

 thickly tenated with a species of paper 

 wasp, (Polistes) and I collected sever- 

 al good specimens of their nests. 



By 5 p. m. the sun had gone down 

 behind the great hills and long shad- 

 ows crept up the valley, darkening it 



as though a thunder storm were creep- 

 ing up. Soon it began to rain and by 

 half past five I was thoroughly soaked 

 below my hunting coat, and vivid 

 flashes told of an approaching storm, 

 with no shelter in sight. I set my 

 horse at a gallop and with only each 

 other for company we raced through 

 the dusk and the most awful thunder 

 I have ever heard. Just at dark the 

 storm let up. Far below, in the val- 

 ley I could hear the roaring river 

 Negro and the faint song of the An- 

 dean robin. Around another turn in 

 the trail and a welcome light greeted 

 my eyes. In a few minutes T was safe- 

 ly at the little posada of Monteradon- 

 do in the very heart of the Andes. As 

 I rode up to the tie rail and dismount- 

 ed, a fair little Colombian lady greet- 

 ed me by name, for Chapman and 

 Cherrie had told her that sooner or 

 later I would arrive. Likewise Fuertcs 

 had sent a letter back to me in Bo- 

 gota, warning me of her smile. 



Having ridden ten and a half hours 

 I had intended to turn in early in 

 order to be rested for the morning, 

 but diversions at Monteradondc were 

 many. Here situated among the great 

 hills of the Ne^ro valley, under the 

 brilliant southern stars and surround- 

 ed by countless glow worms and the 

 perfume of wild lilies, I sat far into 

 the night smoking, with this far away 

 Senorita and listening to her guitar. 



At seven in the morning, after a 

 very good breakfast, cooked and 

 served by the Senorita, I left Monter- 

 adondo, going steadily upward for 

 some time. By nine o'clock the hills 

 across the valley became beautifully 

 forested and in half an hour more, 

 my side was also beautifully humid. 

 The country was much like that in the 

 cloud forest above Consuelo. Many 

 waterfalls of fine cold mountain water 

 poured down the hills and over the 

 trail, passing in and out among curl- 



