388 
LA TENT A. 
Spain. With good mules it takes but three hours to go 
from the port of La Guayra to Caracas ; and only two hours 
to return. With loaded mules, or on foot, the journey is 
from four to five hours. The road runs along a ridge of 
rocks extremely steep, and after passing the stations bearing 
respectively the names of Torre Quemada, Curucuti, and 
Salto, we arrive at a large inn (La Yenta) built at six hun- 
dred toises above the level of the sea. The name Torre 
Quemada, or Burnt Tower, indicates the sensation that is 
felt in descending towards La Guayra. A suffocating heat is 
reflected from the walls of rock, and especially from the 
barren plains on which the traveller looks down. On this 
road, as on that from Yera Cruz to Mexico, and wherever 
on a rapid declivity the climate changes, the increase of 
muscular strength and the sensation of well-being, which we 
experience as we advance into strata of cooler air, have 
always appeared to me less str ikin g than the feeling of 
languor and debility which pervades the frame, when we 
descend towards the binning plains of the coast. But such is 
the organization of man ; and even in the moral world, we 
are less soothed by that which ameliorates our condition than 
annoyed by a new sensation of discomfort. 
From Curucuti to Salto the ascent is somewhat less labo- 
rious. The sinuosities of the way render the declivity easier, 
as in the old road over Mont Cenis. The Salto (or Leap) 
is a crevice, which is crossed by a draw-bridge. Fortifica- 
tions crown the summit of the mountain. At La Venta the 
thermometer at noon stood at 19'3°, when at La Guayra it 
kept up at the same hour at 26 - 2°. La Venta enjoys some 
celebrity in Europe and in the United States, for the beauty 
of its surrounding scenery. When the clouds permit, this 
spot affords a magnificent view of the sea, and the neigh- 
bouring coasts. An horizon of more than twenty-two leagues 
radius is visible ; the white and barren shore reflects a 
dazzling mass of light; and the spectator beholds at his 
feet Cabo Blanco, the village of Maiquetia with its cocoa- 
trees, La Guayra, and the vessels hi the port. But 1 found 
this view far more extraordinary, when the sky was not 
serene, and when trains of clouds, strongly illumined on 
their upper surface, seemed projected like floating islands 
on the oeean. Strata of vapour, hovering at different 
