THERMAL STREAMS WASHWOMAN. 129 



village of Cballa for the -night. The only conspicuous thing in sight 

 was a large steeple, with a small church tacked on to the heel, built 

 of mud and stone. The place looks miserable, yet the Indians appear 

 cheerful, and of a lighter complexion. Some of them speak Quichua. 

 Jose was told there are no more Aymara Indians to the east of us. 



December 9, 1851.- — At 1 a. m., we found a heavy frost on the ground. 

 Thermometer, 41°; wet bulb, 36°. This observation is made on the 

 very edge of the Madeira Plata. Water flows to the east of where we 

 are standing. 



The country round is thrown up into confused and rough shapes, 

 uninhabited by man or beast. Great rocks stand clear and clean of 

 soil. Not a living bush or green leaf to be seen, nor a bird in the air. 

 The day is calm and warm. 



The bright sun shines on the east side of the peaks, and in the shade, 

 on the west side, there is frost. When the sun passes the meridian, the 

 frost disappears until after night, when it is first seen on the east side. 

 While the sun is on his trip to the south, and the rains are falling, the 

 frost may be found deep down in the ravines and valleys; the traveller 

 passes over it in the road, and it lays all day long on the tops of the 

 Andes. 



Descending a steep, winding road, we were surprised at the sudden 

 appearance of flowers, patches of grain, Quichua Indians, and the most 

 delightful air we ever breathed. Getting down from our mules, we 

 followed them on foot. A comfortable temperature makes a man want 

 to feel his legs again. 



At midday, the thermometer stood at 66° in the shade. A small 

 stream trickling over rocks, coated over with a green slime, had a tem- 

 perature of 107°. One flowing into it, at a temperature of 70°, had an 

 iron-red coating over the stones. The mingled waters of the two showed 

 a temperature of 104°. 



An Indian woman was washing clothes in the more than half boiling 

 water. After rubbing them over a smooth stone, shg wrenched the 

 argentine soap off in the cooler stream, and had hung them up to dry 

 in the tropical sun on a small bush, under the shade of which she sat 

 composedly. Her petticoat was conspicuously a new one. As we at- 

 tentively observed some distinct letters upon the stuff, which were 

 " Lowell," she seemed somewhat surprised, and laughed as though she 

 thought us very inquisitive to be so closely examining a woman's cloth- 

 ing. Her earrings were of gold ; a silver cross was suspended by a 

 guard of vicuna wool around her neck. The black wooden ring upon 

 her finger was carved from the hardest and deepest colored wood that 



