CHAPTER XXII
FROM BUENOS AIRES TO VALPARAISO OVERLAND

Though Meiggs was denied the glory of having built the first South American trans-continental railway, yet the idea has been carried to fruition, but at a point much farther south than he contemplated. Again, whereas the audacious Philadelphian engineer proposed only to establish his Atlantic terminus on the upper reaches of the Amazon, the completed line runs down to the water’s edge on either coast, the two opposite ports connected in this manner being Buenos Aires on the Atlantic, and Valparaiso on the Pacific, coasts.

The Trans-andine railway itself, which completes this connection, however, only extends from Mendoza at the foot of the mountain chain on the Argentine side, to Los Andes on the Chilian slopes of the range. These two points are 156 miles apart, but the metals had to be lifted 11,500 feet into the air to bring them together.

When it was decided to connect Mendoza and Los Andes together in this manner, the first-named town was in direct touch with the Atlantic Ocean, the Buenos Aires & Pacific railway having thrown its meshes inland to the foot of the mountains. This was not a difficult matter, owing to the flatness of the country, pampas plains for the most part prevailing. The result is that in the climb from Buenos Aires to Mendoza only 2,470 feet has to be overcome in 650 miles. Consequently, the gradients are so slight as to be practically imperceptible. Indeed, so simple was construction that it was found possible to lay the metals in an absolutely straight line for no less than 210 miles—the longest stretch of “straight” line in the world.

It was in 1886 that the first preliminaries in the actual construction of this final link in the coast-to-coast railway was made. The surveys showed the feasibility of the scheme, though it was pointed out that to climb over the Andes would entail work of a peculiar character, and that the cost would be tremendous. The critical point was the negotiation of the summit itself, for the mountain pass is at an altitude of 12,796 feet. Though commenced in 1886, the scheme experienced many changes of fortune which hindered construction time after time. Financial and labour troubles were the two most retarding factors. By 1891 only 57½ miles were open to traffic; four years later only witnessed the passing of the 90th milestone. Such slow progress was deplorable in comparison with the building of the Oroya and Mollendo railways.

Then came a delay of four years, but in 1899 work was resumed and was pushed forward to completion. On the Chilian side, owing to similar troubles, construction was possible only in spurts, and even when the financial details were adjusted satisfactorily, the scarcity of labour remained a thorny problem.

The surveys showed that the most practical route westwards from Mendoza was by following the course of the river of that name right into the mountain range. In this manner extensive blasting and heavy cutting could be avoided, except where the mountain-sides dropped abruptly into the river, and then these would have to be tunnelled.

The constructional engineers followed this location, but only to run full-tilt into another difficulty which had not been foreseen. The Mendoza is a South American replica of China’s ill-fated Hoang-ho. In the low season its placid waters roll leisurely to the ocean, but when it is swollen by the melting snows it tears along with fiendish velocity. As its banks are composed only of the soft alluvium brought down from the mountains, the foaming waters do not find this a very difficult obstacle, and accordingly carry it away in tremendous quantities. As a result, the river is for ever changing its channel.

To the railway engineers such eccentricities proved serious factors. They realised speedily that here was a situation peculiarly exasperating, for long lengths of track were swept away bodily time after time. It never could be anticipated where the turbulent water would break its bounds next. A stretch of permanent way, left safe and sound in the morning, sometimes was wiped out of existence before nightfall. All that could be seen of the work possibly was the rails dipping into the water on one bank and reappearing on the other, the intervening section describing a graceful festoon in the depths of the muddy torrent. At times the waters were more freakish. They would burst upon the track with such violence as to wrench the metals apart; then only the jagged, twisted ends jutting mournfully into the air on either side of the new river channel were the sole remnants of the track.

The engineers tried innumerable expedients to preserve the line from these erratic attacks, but without any material success for some time. At last they decided to provide the river with an artificial embankment, and to lay the track well back from the waterway. Trainloads of huge masses of stone were brought to the vulnerable points and pitched at the foot of the embankment, which was raised to a height well above flood-level. Thousands of tons of stone were dumped in this manner, and it was found that it afforded complete protection, because the water could not dislodge the masonry pitching to eat its way into the soft earth beneath. The artificial dyke solved the problem of how to keep the rushing, boisterous Mendoza within bounds.