VALPARAISO. 273 
with the relay horses for the calisa. When seated in the chaise I 
observed how the horses were harnessed. A stout iron ring is fixed 
to the saddle, and a thong passes from the axle-tree to that ring, so 
that it serves as a single trace, by which the horse drags his portion 
of the weight on one side. Occasionally they change sides, to relieve 
the cattle. On going down any little declivity the horses keep wide of 
the carriage, so as to support it a little ; and on descending a mountain 
they are removed from the front, and the thongs are brought back- 
ward from the axle-trees and fastened to rings in the fore part of the 
saddles ; and the horses serve not only instead of clogs to the wheels, 
but support part of the weight, which might otherwise overpower the 
mule inthe descent. The season is considerably advanced since we 
went to the city ; the plains are thickly and richly covered with grass 
and flowers ; the village orchards are in full leaf and blossom, and 
the pruning of the vines is begun. The horses, and other animals, 
are once more sent into the potreros to grass, and spring comes to all 
but me. Mine is past, and my summer has been blighted ; yet hope, 
blessed hope! remains, that the autumn of my days may at least be 
more tranquil. 
I suffered a great deal the two first days on the road, but the third 
I felt sensibly better, and fancied myself almost well; when, at the 
first post-house from Valparaiso, I found Captain Spencer, with half- 
a-dozen of m y young shipmates, whom he had good naturedly brought 
out to meet me, and among them poor Glennie. We all made a 
cheerful luncheon together, and then rode to Valparaiso; my maid 
mounting her horse, and Glennie taking her place in the calisa. 
At home I found Mr. Hogan, and several other friends, waiting to 
welcome me. And truly I have seldom enjoyed rest so much as this 
night, when both mind and body reposed, as they have not done 
since I knew of Glennie’s arrival in bad health. 
October 1st.—I find that the affairs of the squadron are much 
worse than when I left the port: the wages are yet unpaid, and the 
crews of the ships are becoming clamorous for money, for clothing, 
and all other necessaries. Discontent is spreading wide, and, as usual, 
NN 
