176 



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DESCENDING THE MOUNTAINS. 



brightly. The mules, one by one, entered the thick mass of steam vapor 

 with great hesitation. It was with difficulty the arrieros could push 

 them in, so much did they dislike to descend. As they had travelled 

 the road before, they turned and ran back into the light, but the men 

 finally succeeded in getting them all in. 



In the sunlight behind us, there was a short growth of short grass, 

 with a portion of the soil burnt into a hard and scaly crust, like the out- 

 side of a steam-boiler. As soon as we had passed under the fog, the 

 earth was found covered with a green sod ; flowers bloomed by our 

 path, and the foliage of the bushes covered the sides of the ravines, 

 while the forest trees lined the bottom. The green surface looked like 

 the waters of the sea as they flow up on the land, pushing towards the 

 top of the mountain ravine in some places, while in others, where a blur! 

 stood out, the foilage was forced back, as if the elevation was too high 

 for the green wave to cover it. 



Under this thick cloud the Indian finds fire-wood ; here he burns char- 

 coal, which is used by the silversmiths, the blacksmiths, and the city 

 cooks. In the valley he gathers ornamental woods for the cabinet-maker. 

 After he has cut down trees and sold them, he finds that his corn crop 

 will yield him a plentiful supply without the trouble of leading water 

 through the fields with his hoe, for the rains come down on the land so 

 plentifully that he has nothing to do but to admire what they do for 

 him ; while his neighbor, on the other side of the mountain, eats only 

 by the sweat of his brow. 



For his comfort, the Indian must build himself a house for protection 

 against the rains. He cuts four forked poles, and stands them up as 

 supports to a thatched roof, slings his cotton hamac from post to 

 post, and there enjoys his rest, swinging in a cool, pleasant climate, 

 while he looks out upon the growing maize, and listens to the dashing 

 waters of the mountain streams. 



We halted and asked permission to encamp on the third night from 

 Cochabamba, and to pitch our tent among an orchard of peach trees. 

 We cooked supper by the Indian's fire, roasted a wild goose, shot during 

 the day in a small lake, while Jose made tea and traded with the 

 Indian for fodder. 



May 14, 1852.- — At 5 p. m., thermometer, 58°; wet bulb, 57°; cloudy 

 and calm. This observation is made in the peach orchard, not far 

 below the gorge through which we passed. After spending an uncom- 

 fortable night in our tent, which we find rather close in this dense 

 atmosphere, we loaded up and pushed down through the forest-trees 

 over a most dangerous road. In some places the mules jump down 



