CHAPTER XII.

JOURNEY TO SANTIAGO-CASA BLANCA-THE TWO STAGE ROUTES TO THE CAPITAL-SIERRAS AND CUESTAS-MELIPILLA-THE CORDILLERA-CHILEAN AGRICULTURE.

LEAVING Valparaiso for Santiago at four A. M., the clear stars served as lamps for the brief period before dawn. There are two modes of public conveyance between the chief seaport and the capital: one the well known American or English nine passenger, four or six in hand coach; the other a smaller fourwheel carriage for four persons, with tongue and pair of horses attached thereto, and two other horses outside of these pulling each by a single rope attached to some part of the vehicle; the horses thus travel abreast, unless there are more than four, in which case two of them may draw from the tongue as leaders, and are then managed by a postilion mounted on one of them, while a driver in the carriage holds the others in rein. Thus they act on the rule that two heads are better than one, which does not always hold good in this case as they sometimes act contrariwise, the passengers paying the penalty of disagreement. If there were no other objection to postilion driving as it prevails in Chile, it is sufficient that he does not incur the risk to which his recklessness often subjects those entrusted to his care; for he is always safe on the outside in the event of accident, and in case of the tumble of a party down a precipice he readily disengages himself and horse from the vehicle at the moment of danger, by unhooking the trace-rope from his saddle-girth. Immunity from personal danger encourages his disregard of the safety of others. I had ample experience of the recklessness of a birlochero, and therefore took the American coach, and had a sense and a realization of security. But if you should make this

journey and trust yourself to the so-called French line, pay the postilion an extra fee for the privilege of tying a rope round his neck; and put a revolver in your belt. If he shows himself a dare-devil, pull the rope; and if he disregards the hint, shoot him on the spot for if you do not kill him, the probability will be that-your doom being that of most persons—you will be more apt to see San Diablo than Santiago.

The road for a distance of thirty miles from Valparaiso is unpaved, and much obstructed by mule trains and ox-teams; the former carrying on pack-saddles wood, wheat, wool, and flour, and in panniers poultry, meat, and vegetables; the latter drawing large clumsy wagons and carts, with hugh wheels and tongue, and a body of closely-intertwined cane sides, raw-hide top stretched over bows, and floor of the same, for the transportation of merchandise in general. The usual team consists of eight oxen arranged in pairs, which pull from a yoke attached to the horns; while two extra oxen are fastened head-on behind, as well to hold back in descending the steep hills of this mountainous country as to relieve those of the team that have become weary or foot-sore. The roads are made and kept in repair by Government, and a regulation requires that the wagons shall drag behind each wheel a block, to check them when stopping on a hill-side. The drivers of these merchandise teams are like their confrères, the happily nearly obsolete professional teamsters of our own country; generally lawless in public conduct, and licentious in private morals. They display a gay poncho, and the smallest specimen of a round crown, narrow brim, straw or chip hat, tied on with a gaudy check handkerchief bonnetfashion. Armed with a fifteen or twenty feet pole or goad, with iron spike point, each sceptred chief walks either before or at the side of his team, and, in imitation of more distinguished tyrants, punishes his victims according to his humor, generally contriving to get them where they ought not to be, and in the way of every traveller on the road. And unfortunate is he who meets an ascending ox-team, or a dozen of them--for they usually move in processions-when he is going down a cuesta in a birlocho at a running gait. He may take his choice between a smash up on one side, a leap down the precipice on the other,

or impalement on the intermediate horns of the dilemma, as he pleases.

The country over which we passed looked barren, yet the soil was rich in places, as shown by heavy crops of barley, wheat, and garden vegetables, where properly cultivated. The houses seen along the road are built of light scantling or pole frames, filled in with cane or common brushwood, daubed with mud, and thatched with hay or straw. A mere shed serves for kitchen and dining-room, and half-clad families and nearly disrobed wagoners and muleteers were seen as we passed the pueblos, taking their morning meal in primitive fashion, with fingers for forks, and seated on the ground.

At seven and a half A. M. we stopped for breakfast thirty miles from Valparaiso, at the neat little village of Casa Blanca, containing about two thousand inhabitants; so called from a white post-house built there by Valdivia the great Spanish pioneer of Chile. At this town the road to Santiago forks, giving a choice of routes to the traveller. One branch takes a nearly due east direction, and traverses two sierras, important geographical features of this region of Chile, the Sierra de la Costa, which is crossed at the Cuesta de Zapata (pass or depression of Zapata), eighteen hundred and sixty feet high, and the Sierra de Prado, which the road passes over at the Cuesta de Prado, at an elevation of twenty-four hundred and twenty feet. This branch of the Santiago road is fifty miles long from Casa Blanca, giving a total distance from Valparaiso to the capital of eighty miles. The other branch of the fork runs southeast from Casa Blanca, and after passing several unimportant spurs of the Sierra de la Costa, to wit: Las Orcadas, Cuesta del Boldo, Cuesta de la Mina, and the somewhat higher Cuesta de las Hormigas, it crosses the considerable Portezuelo de las Ibacache, twelve hundred and fifty-eight feet high; much less, however, it will be observed, than the two lofty cuestas on the other route. This branch then seeks the valley of the Maipú River, still further to the southeast, and changing its course to the east at the town of Melipilla, runs through the gap of the Sierra de Prado which gives passage to the River Maipú, thus avoiding the tedious climbing, abrupt turns, and precipitous and danger

ous descent of the Cuesta de Prado on the first-mentioned route. This second branch is known as the Melipilla road, from its passing through that town; and after turning the Sierra de Prado, it changes its course to the northeast, crosses the Mapocho River a short distance north of its affluence into the Maipú, and preserves the general northeastwardly direction, running frequently close along the left bank of the Mapocho until it reaches Santiago, seventy-five miles from Casa Blanca, or a total of one hundred and five miles from Valparaiso. It will thus be seen that the Melipilla road is twenty-five miles longer than the first described, or Curicavi road, as it is sometimes called, from its passing through a village of that name about midway between the Cuesta de Zapata and the Cuesta de Prado. But the greater safety of the Melipilla road, as well from the preferable mode of travelling it as from its avoidance of the short curves, steep descent, and fearful precipices of the other, is cheaply purchased by its increased distance, especially when it is considered that a longer time is not required to reach Santiago by this route. The French line takes the Curicavi road, while the American coaches always travel the Melipilla. After leaving Casa Blanca the latter road was found in much better condition than that nearer Valparaiso; many rich and well-cultivated quebradas were also seen as we ascended the Cuesta Ibacache; and in descending the eastern face of that pass, the mighty Andes, from fifty to sixty miles off, burst suddenly on the sight, stretching far to the north and south, marshalled like an army of giants; the imperial Tupungato towering at their head, with its snowy banners unfolded like pennons of peace from its proud domes, although the earthquake slumbered within its mysterious depths. And as we traversed the scorched and dusty plain at the foot of the Cuesta, breezes from the icy chambers of the distant Cordillera came by, to refresh us with their coolness. Pursuing our southeastwardly course between the ridge we had just crossed and the loftier one we were seeking to turn, we came to that fertile part of the valley about ten miles before reaching Melipilla, where the immense hacienda of San José is situated. This estate, of many leagues extent, belongs to Don Juan de dios Correa, the largest landed proprietor of Chile, now in in

voluntary retirement in Paris, for reasons of this free State. Far away were seen stretching the rich fields, teeming with luxuriant crops; while others, irrigated throughout, and enclosed by substantial and highly-ornamental adobe fences, pastured numerous herds of cattle. From this hacienda to Melipilla the country appears very productive; and this pretty little town of five thousand inhabitants having been passed at twelve and a half p. м., our route changed to the east, and continued through a highly-cultivated region, vineyards and fields of heavy-headed grain skirting the way on either hand, while leagues of graceful poplars bounded the magnificent avenue we here travelled. At the little village of San Francisco de Monte we crossed the Mapocho River, and ascended its left bank in a northeast direction through a beautiful valley, but sadly deficient in forest timber, as is all of Chile that I have seen. The Cordillera, which for some time had been hid from view, rose again before us, now that we had entered upon the great valley on which its feet had rested for uncounted ages, appearing like a castellated wall of the world, supported by mountain abutments, and crowned by a snowy parapet, gleaming in the setting sun like a silver crest, around which the wondering clouds gathered as if in adoration. How sublime the spectacle of that mighty creation on whose stupendous pillars the overarching blue of heaven seemed to rest in tranquil grandeur, dividing a continent throughout its length; reposing its head on a lap of tropical verdure, while its foot is clothed in polar sleet; separating nationalities, giving birth to vast and untold rivers, and determining their flow; yielding mineral wealth, without which labor would delve in poverty, and industry need incentive and reward, commerce languish, and the arts fail; and finally, reminding man of his feebleness and dependence, by shaking even his empires with its mighty throes!

Great quantities of shingle and boulders are found along the course of the Mapocho River; these are used in making roads and fences. Their presence shows the enormous water-power formerly in operation in the basin between the Andes and the Coast Range, to shape and distribute so extensively the rocky debris of these mountains.