106 



LA PAZ. 



as lie passes. The evaporation is great, from the numerous streams 

 which flow into the lake ; and was the wet season withheld awhile, the 

 basin would be emptied; but the precipitation and evaporation are now 

 equipoised. As the lake is at its lowest, the rains will soon commence 

 and fill it up again. 



As the sun passes on south, he draws the rain-belt after him. He is 

 now nearly vertical. When he completes his tour to the north of the 

 equator, he returns next year to find Titicaca brimful, which is evapo- 

 rated before the rains commence again. Were it not for the flooding 

 of the lake every year, we might find the water salt instead of fresh. 



We leave Lake Titicaca for the dry table-lands of Bolivia. On the 

 road-side, at the base of the Sorata range, we halted to look at the In- 

 dians plough in their potatoes. The women were the planters. They 

 plant the small potatoes of last year whole, instead of cutting the larger 

 ones for seed. We attempted to explain to one of the women why she 

 always raised such small potatoes ; but she evidently misunderstood 

 us. Running off to the end of the row, where there was a large earthen 

 jar, she returned with a cup of chicha. 



At Tambillo post-house, after passing the night, the postman was 

 disposed to charge us double. His mules, like himself, look very poor. 

 Half a dozen old houses stood out on the plain, with nothing about them 

 to admire but the lofty snow-peaks. I hired mules to take us all the 

 way to La Paz, but at Lapa they gave out. The postillions had them 

 changed in the post-house, and wanted to continue with the fresh 

 mules ; but the Lapa postillions objected ; and as ours refused to pay 

 them that part of the fare which had been advanced, the subject was 

 debated in the middle of the patio. A very respectable-looking old 

 Indian walked in, and after speaking some time to the parties, our men 

 paid, and we pushed on over the plain, in company with Indians and 

 loaded jackasses on their way to market, and droves of unloaded mules 

 on their return towards the coast, after having brought in loads of 

 foreign manufactures. 



Suddenly arriving at the edge of a deep ravine, we saw the tile-roofs 

 of the city of La Paz, near the base of the great snow-capped mountain, 

 Illimani. Descending by a steep, narrow road, and passing the ceme- 

 tery, the air was found loaded with the perfume of sweet flowers. 

 Springs of fresh water gushed out by the road-side, into which our mules 

 sunk their noses before we could get a drink. As we entered the town, 

 some one called out from a shaded piazza for our passports. We kept on, 

 answering we had none for Bolivia; but on looking back, a man was seen 

 stopping our baggage, which was a pretty effectual way of bringing us to. 



