Route to Plain of the Amazon 



439 



be carried over the mountains to a 

 small Indian town on the eastern slope. 

 From this town a good trail for miles 

 will be built, down to some navigable 

 river on which small steamers can be 

 used. With the railway most of the 

 comforts of civilization are left behind. 

 In four or five days of mule-back travel 

 we mount the eastern Andes, winding 

 our way through the Aricoma Pass at 

 an altitude of about 16,500 feet. Here 

 the scenery, if the weather is fine, re- 

 pays the hardships of the trip. Snowy 

 mountains and enormous glaciers are 

 mirrored in the waters of lakes, which 

 change their colors with every whim of 

 cloud and sky. More often, however, 

 the traveler is wrapt in blinding snow- 

 storms, which shut out every glimpse 

 beyond the narrow limits of a few feet. 

 Hour after hour he clings half frozen 

 to his mule, his discomfort heightened 

 by the mountain sickness, which is one 

 of the terrors of these lofty regions. To 

 lose his way under these conditions 

 may mean death. 



On reaching the eastern crest of 

 these mountains, if the view is clear, 

 one seems to be standing on the edge 

 of the world. The eye, indeed, can 

 reach but little of the vast panorama, 

 but just at one's feet the earth drops 

 away into apparently endless and al- 

 most bottomless valleys. We may call 

 them valleys, but this does not express 

 the idea ; they are gorges, deep ravines 

 in whose gloomy depths rage the tor- 

 rents which fall from the snowy sum- 

 mits of the Andes down toward the 

 plain. We might hunt the world over 

 lor a better example of the power of 

 running water. The whole country is 

 on edge. Here all the moisture from 

 the wet air, borne by the trade winds 

 across Brazil from the distant Atlantic, 

 is wrung by the mountain barrier and 

 falls in almost continual rain. 



Near the summit of the pass only 

 the lowest and scantiest forms of vege- 

 table life are seen. In a single day, 

 however, even by the slow march of 

 weary mules, in many places literally 



stepping "downstairs" from stone to 

 stone, we drop 7,000 feet. Here the 

 forest begins, first in stunted growths, 

 and then, a little lower down, in all the 

 wild luxuriance of the tropics, where 

 moisture never fails. The lower east- 

 ern foot-hills of the Andes are more 

 heavily watered and more densely 

 overgrown than the great plain farther 

 dowji. r^Here is a land drenched in rain 

 and reeking with mists, where the 

 bright sun is a surprise and a joy in 

 spite of his heat. In these dense forests, 

 with their twisting vines and hanging 

 lianas, a man without a path can force 

 his way with difficulty a mile a day. 



In these foot-hills, at an elevation of 

 4,000 or 5,000 feet, is the Santo Do- 

 mingo mine. Here is an American 

 colony provided with comfortable, al- 

 most luxurious, dwellings, which are 

 flanked by the unsightly huts of native 

 miners and Indians. 



From this abode of comparative lux- 

 ury we again started mule-back along a 

 new but splendid trail down into the 

 "rubber country." Four days of this 

 travel, through forests peopled with 

 nothing more frightful than jaguars 

 and monkeys, brought us to the end of 

 the trail. Day after day ten hours a 

 day in the saddle is sufficiently tire- 

 some, but it was with regret that we 

 left our animals to try the forest afoot. 

 Our first experience involved only a 

 walk of a couple of hours, but over a 

 trail so narrow, steep, and blocked with 

 trees and roots that we were soon ex- 

 hausted. We were glad enough to 

 arrive at a clearing on the bank of a 

 recently discovered stream called the 

 New River. After a delay of a day or 

 two at this post, we made our way 

 down stream a few miles to the junc- 

 tion of the New River with the Tavora, 

 on whose waters we intended to em- 

 bark. Six hours of walking over a path 

 known in the picturesque language of 

 my companions as "A hell of a trail" 

 brought us to the junction, where we 

 found another camp with a group of 

 workmen of various nationalities. 



