The Highland Wilderness 177 



anything or risking anything, does not need to show much 

 more initiative and intelligence than an express package. 

 He does nothing; others do all the work, show all the 

 forethought, take all the risk — and are entitled to all the 

 credit. He and his valise are carried in practically the 

 same fashion ; and for each the achievement stands about 

 on the same plane. If this kind of traveller is a writer, 

 he can of course do admirable work, work of the highest 

 value; but the value comes because he is a writer and 

 observer, not because of any particular credit that at- 

 taches to him as a traveller. We all recognize this truth 

 as far as highly civilized regions are concerned: when 

 Bryce writes of the American commonwealth, or Lowell 

 of European legislative assemblies, our admiration is for 

 the insight and thought of the observer, and we are not 

 concerned with his travels. When a man travels across 

 Arizona in a Pullman car, we do not think of him as 

 havmg performed a feat bearing even the most remote 

 resemblance to the feats of the first explorers of those 

 waterless wastes; whatever admiration we feel in con- 

 nection with his trip is reserved for the traffic-superin- 

 tendent, engineer, fireman, and brakeman. But as re- 

 gards the less-known continents, such as South America, 

 we sometimes fail to remember these obvious truths. 

 There yet remains plenty of exploring work to be done 

 in South America, as hard, as dangerous, and almost as 

 important as any that has already been done ; work such 

 as has recently been done, or is now being done, by men 

 and women such as Haseman, Farrabee, and Miss Sneth- 

 lage. The collecting naturalists who go into the wilds 

 and do first-class work encounter every kind of risk and 



