166 THE HIGHLAND WILDERNESS [chap, vi 



is a writer and observer, not because of any particular 

 credit that attaches 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 as- 

 semblies, 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 having 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 connection with his trip is reserved 

 for the traffic-superintendent, engineer, fireman, and 

 brakeman. But as regards 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 Snethlage. The col- 

 lecting naturalists who go into the wilds and do first- 

 class work encounter every kind of risk and undergo 

 every kind of hardship and exertion. Explorers and 

 naturalisjs of the right type have open to them in 

 South America a field of extraordinary attraction and 

 difficulty. But to excavate ruins that have already 

 long been known, to visit out-of-the-way towns that 

 date from colonial days, to traverse old, even if uncom- 

 fortable, routes of travel, or to ascend or descend high- 

 way rivers Uke the Amazon, the Paraguay, and the 

 lower Orinoco — all of these exploits are well worth 

 performing, but they in no sense represent exploration 

 or adventure, and they do not entitle the performer, no 



