ald PORTILLO PASS. (cmap. xv. 
the Portillo, is to the south, and nearer, but ‘more lofty and 
dangerous. 
March 18th.—We set out for the Portillo pass. Leaving 
Santiago we crossed the wide burnt-up plain on which that city 
stands, and in the afternoon arrived at the Maypu, one of the 
principal rivers in Chile. The valley, at the point where it 
enters the first Cordillera, is bounded on each side by lofty barren 
mountains; and although not broad, it is very fertile. Numerous 
cottages were surrounded by vines, and by orchards of apple, 
nectarine, and peach trees—their boughs breaking with the 
weight of the beautiful ripe fruit. In the evening we passed the 
custom-house, where our luggage was examined. The frontier 
of Chile is better guarded by the Cordillera, than by the waters 
of the sea. There are very few valleys which lead to the central 
ranges, and the mountains are quite impassable in other parts by 
beasts of burden. The custom-house officers were very civil, 
which was perhaps partly owing to the passport which the Pre- 
sident of the Republie had given me; but I must express my 
admiration at the natural politeness of almost every Chileno. In 
this instance, the contrast with the same class of men in most 
other countries was strongly marked. I may mention an anec- 
dote with which I was at the time much pleased: we met near 
Mendoza a little and very fat negress, riding astride on a mule. 
She had a goiére so enormous that it was scarcely possible to 
avoid gazing at her for a moment ; but my two companions almost 
instantly, by way of apology, made the common salute of the 
country by taking off their hats. Where would one of the lower 
or higher classes in Europe, have shown such feeling politeness 
to a poor and miserable-object of a degraded race? 
At night we slept at a cottage. Our manner of travelling was 
delightfully independent. In the inhabited parts we bought a 
little firewood, hired pasture for the animals, and bivouacked in 
the corner of the same field with them. Carrying an iron pot, 
we cooked and ate our supper under a cloudless sky, and knew 
no trouble. My companions were Mariano Gonzales, who had 
formerly accompanied me in Chile, and an “ arriero,” with his 
ten mules and a ‘‘ madrina.” ‘The madrina (or godmother) is a 
most important personage: she is an old steady mare, with a 
little bell round her neck; and wherever she goes, the mules, 
