VALPARAISO. 123 
shore, where it oozes through a sand-bank to the sea, close to a little 
cove filled with fishermen’s houses.* On ascending the ravine 
a little farther, I found at the top of the waterfall, a bed of white 
marble lying along on the sober grey rock; and beyond it, half con- 
cealed by the shrubs, the water formed a thousand little falls — 
‘* Through bushy brake and wild flowers blossoming, 
And freshness breathing from each silver spring, 
Whose scattered streams from granite basins burst, 
Leap into life, and sparkling woo your thirst.” 
But this valley, like all those in the immediate neighbourhood of 
Valparaiso, wants trees. The shrubs, however, are beautiful, and mixed 
here and there with the Chilian aloe (Pourretia Coarctata), and the 
great torch thistle, which rises to an extraordinary height. Among 
the humble flowers I remarked varieties of our common garden herbs, 
carraway, fennel, sage, thyme, mint, rue, wild carrot, and several 
sorts of sorrel. But it is not yet the season of flowers; here and 
there only, a solitary fuscia or andromeda was to be found ; —but I 
did not want flowers, —the very feel of the open air, the verdure, the 
sunshine, were enough; and I doubly enjoyed this my first rural 
walk after being so long at sea. 
Friday, May 17th.—Three days of half fog, half rain, have given 
notice of the breaking up of the dry season, and my landlord has 
accordingly sent people to prepare the roof for the coming wet 
weather. This has given me an opportunity of being initiated in all 
the mysteries of Chileno masonry, or architecture, or whatever title 
we may give to the manner of building here. The poorest peasants 
live in what I conceive to be the original hut of every country, a 
little less carefully constructed here, where the climate is so fine and 
the temperature so equal, that, provided the roof is sufficient during 
the rains, the walls are of little consequence. These huts are made 
of stakes stuck in the ground, and fastened together with transverse 
* This is the only rivulet near Valparaiso: the old maps and travels, therefore, which 
represent the port as standing at the mouth of a river are wrong. Valparaiso is midway 
between the mouths of the Acoucagua and of the Maypu. 
R 2 
