216 THE ROAD TO BOLIVIA 



shadows we took our noon-day rest, eating luncheon and talking of 

 the wonders and the m3'steries of the sacred place, while a daughter 

 of the Incas brought a l)undle of sugar cane upon lier hack to feed 

 our horses. 



The west coast of South America has ])een called a panorama of 

 desolation, being a constant succession of bari'en cliffs, with scarcely 

 a lovely thing for 1,500 miles. The town of Mollendo, the terminus 

 of the railway that connects Bolivia and the interior of Peru with 

 tlie coast, is built upon a rock that extends into the ocean. Ugly 

 looking crags project in all directions and make the landing look 

 dangerous, although in reality they are a protection, by breaking the 

 force of the surf that rolls in unbroken from the wide Pacific ; for, 

 as our captain suggested, what else can you expect when you have 

 nothing else but Australia for a breakwater. 



Although Mollendo is the second seaport in importance of Peru, 

 the surf is so bad that people cannot always land there. Sometimes 

 passengers on the steamers liave to continue to the next port and 

 remain until the surf subsides. At all times the exi)erience of land- 

 ing is not such as to encourage nervous and timid ])eo})le, although 

 it furnishes the passengers who are lucky enough to remain on 

 board with some exciting and amusing spectacles. 



The water used b}' the people of Mollendo is l)rought 85 miles 

 in an 8-inch pipe, which lies partly under ground and parth' on the 

 surface of the desert, along the line of the railway from the River Chile 

 which is tapped in the mountains at a height of 7.275 feet above the 

 sea-level. Farther south, at Iquique, the}- have a similar pipe, which 

 brings the water 148 miles, and that which supplies Antofagasta is 

 185 miles long. The water is used both for consumption and irriga- 

 tion, and wherever it touches the soil there springs forth most luxu- 

 riant vegetation. 



For the first ten miles out of Mollendo the railway runs along the 

 beach ; then it enters a quedebra or ravine, and begins its weary climb 

 up the mountain side. It passes first through a region of rocks and 

 sand upheaved by some great cataclysm, and continues to wind like 

 a snake in and out of the irregularities of the mountains. There are 

 double curves and serj)entines and horseshoes, and at places you can 

 see three or four levels, one above the other, on the same mountain. 

 The first station after leaving the seashore lies at an elevation of 1,000 

 feet, and there is an average rise of 800 feet between stations thereafter 

 until we reach Arequipa, which is about 8,000 feet above tidewater 



