110 PRODUCTIONS OF YUNGAS. 



with clothing, accumulates a large sum of money. This is the business 

 of importance in La Paz next to that of the trade in cinchona bark. 



The largest portion of the department of La Paz is situated on the 

 table-lands, which, like the hills and lofty mountains within its border, 

 produce a scanty supply of vegetable growth — ocas, potatoes, maize, 

 barley, beans, and quinua. Horned cattle, horses, and sheep are small 

 and few. The llama is less used on the level roads of the Puna than on 

 the rough roads of the mountains ; mules are more valuable. The Indian 

 nearly always walks to town in company with a jackass. Except a little 

 dove dusting itself by the road-side, there are few birds to be found ; 

 no snakes nor ants ; neither flowers nor trees. But that part of the 

 department situated on the eastern side of the Andes — the province of 

 Yungas — surpasses other spots in South America for natural wealth. 



Standing up to his waist in the snows of the Illimani, amidst heavy 

 storms of hail, with thunder and lightning, and a wind that dyes his 

 nose and ears scarlet and blue with cold, the traveller descends to the 

 east, plunging and tumbling among the drift banks. He passes sheets 

 of ice formed by the melting of the snow at its lower edge, and after 

 slipping and sliding down these glistening slabs, he reaches a green sod 

 of grass, while the snow melts from his clothes as he thaws in the tropical 

 sun. Behind him, above rages the winter storm ; below a land of flowers 

 in everlasting summer ; and far off to the east, the whole earth looks 

 blue and broken like the ocean. The drops of snow-water from his own 

 coat join the trickling stream from the melting ice, and with him they 

 move on down the rugged mountain. This stream, increasing as it 

 advances, is finally lost in the waters of the Beni. He pulls off his 

 overcoat, seats himself under the shade of a bush surrounded by sweet 

 flowers ; humming-birds attract his attention, and as he fans himself 

 with his bat, a swarm of bees interferes somewhat with his comfort. 



He soon reaches the shade of lofty trees ; an old ring-tailed monkey 

 walks slowly along a limb ; a cunning little one jumps on her back, 

 twists its tail round her hind legs, lays down its head on her back, sticks 

 its fingernails into her skin, and rides its mother off at a full run, 

 jumping from limb to limb and from tree to tree ; while the father fol- 

 lows after, chattering in a loud voice the alarm for a stranger. 



A long train of ants, disturbed in their march from one side of the 

 path to the other, occasionally afford the intruder a bite through the 

 stocking. He stops to change his clothes from winter to summer. Birds 

 of most brilliant plumage sing all around him ; some of them scream 

 with joy as they fly across the mountain torrent ; others are seated 

 quietly in pairs on the branches, among the thick green foliage, as though 



