THE ANDES. 



41 



formed a sort of amphitheatre. The snow-white 

 top of what I imagine to be Aconcagua imme- 

 diately became visible towards the north-east^ 

 and at the same time, in the middle of the plain, 

 Santiago presented itself with its steeples and 

 domes, rising up amongst groves, poplars, 

 vineyards, maize-fields, and gardens ; a most 

 agreeable sight. 



The mule I rode was stubborn and stupid. 

 The symptoms which he experienced on 

 various parts of his person, of my impatience 

 to enter Santiago, produced no sympathy in 

 his movements. But as all things must have 

 an end at last, we concluded our journey on 

 the seventh day after leaving Mendoza, and 

 found our way to a good English inn from 

 which I am now writing. 



