I was interested in finding here two species of Loranthus, which, unlike their congeners, grow in a respectable way, depending on their own resources for subsistence. The great majority of nearly four hundred known species of this genus live as parasites on the stems of other plants, but these form bushes with woody roots, which apparently have not even an underground connection with those of their neighbours. When I returned to the Resguardo, laden with plants, it was high time to think of starting homeward to Santa Rosa. I did not much fancy travelling by night over the curious road that I had followed in the morning, and my coachman seemed to hold the same opinion very strongly. Accordingly I soon started, after cordial leave-taking, but was a little surprised when, without previous warning, the driver pulled up his horses at the garden gate of a substantial house, which I had noticed in the morning a few hundred yards below the Resguardo. Presently a young man came out, and, addressing me in very fair English, explained that he had written to order a carriage for the following day, but would be thankful if I could give him a seat to convey him to his family at Santa Rosa. Of course I willingly consented, and in the conversation, which was carried on alternately in Spanish and English during the following three hours, I gained an opportunity for some practice in a language which has never been quite familiar to me.
I became interested in the poor young fellow, who was evidently in an advanced stage of pulmonary consumption. He had been on a visit with friends, in the vain hope that the pure air of this mountain valley might arrest the disease, and now, as the season was far advanced, wished to rejoin his wife and children at Santa Rosa. Like many consumptive patients, he had a feverish proneness for talk; and, having first told me his own story, he asked me a multitude of questions respecting my present journey and as to the other countries that I have visited. At length, with evident reference to my age, he gravely said, “No le parece Señor que es tiempo para descansar?” I answered that there would be time enough to descansar when one is laid underground, and that for the present I saw no occasion to rest. As I stopped the carriage only two or three times to gather plants, and the driver kept his horses at a smart trot most of the way, we accomplished the return journey of eighteen or twenty miles in a little under three hours, and reached the town at nightfall.
RETURN TO VALPARAISO.
On the 26th I returned to Valparaiso, meeting the Santiago train at the now familiar junction station of Llaillai. Although the weather was still fine, clouds hung round the Cordillera, and I was not destined again to enjoy the glorious view of the great range. My first care on reaching the port was to secure my passage in the German steamer as far as the Straits of Magellan. I found that the steamship Rhamses of the Cosmos line, which in ordinary course should have departed on the 28th, was delayed until the following day, May 29. It was inevitable to regret that the additional day had not been devoted to the Rio Colorado, but, in fact, I found my time fully occupied during the two days that remained available. The collections of dried plants made up to this time had to be packed securely in the chest in which they were to remain until they reached England, and, as every botanist knows, it is expedient to hasten the process of drying fresh plants as far as possible before going to sea, where the operation is always one of difficulty.
I was invited to dinner on the day of my arrival by Mr. C——, one of the chief English merchants established in Chili, and acquired some interesting information from his conversation. Having been at work during a great part of the previous night, I was, however, thoroughly tired, and was able to profit less than I should have done by the hospitable entertainment. On the morning of my departure from Cauquenes I had met Mr. Edwin Reed, an English naturalist many years resident in Chili, and by appointment called upon him at his house in Valparaiso. Mr. Reed has a good knowledge of the botany and zoology of his adopted country, and several hours were agreeably spent on each of the two available days in going through parcels of his duplicate collections, when he was good enough to give me flowering specimens of plants which I had seen only in imperfect condition, as well as of many others from the higher region of the Cordillera which had been entirely inaccessible to me.
My visit to Chili had now come to an end. All needful preparations were concluded; and, after a busy morning and an excellent luncheon at the Hotel Colon, I went on board the Rhamses early in the afternoon of May 29, not without deep regret at quitting a country where I had spent twenty of the most enjoyable days of my life. The only occupants of the first-class saloon were a German gentleman, Mr. Z——; his wife, a delicate Peruvian lady, who remained in her cabin during most of the voyage; five children; and a maid. I found a good clean cabin, which had been reserved for my use, and before long a tall, handsome man of pleasant countenance introduced himself to me as Captain Willsen, commanding the Rhamses.
GERMAN STEAMERS.
The steamers of the German Cosmos line, of which this is, I believe, a fair example, differ in many respects from the great English ocean steamships which conduct most of the intercourse between Europe and South America. They are mainly destined for cargo, the accommodation for passengers being comparatively very limited, and of scarcely half the dimensions, being of rather less than two thousand tons displacement by our measurement. In our passenger ships speed is always the foremost consideration. In accordance with the national temperament, the German steamers set slight store on that object; safety and economy are the aims constantly kept in view, and the consumption of an increased quantity of coal in order to gain a day would be regarded as culpable extravagance. The especial advantage which they offer to every traveller in this region is that, owing to their light draught, they are able to traverse the narrow and intricate channels of Western Patagonia between the mountainous islands and the mainland; while to sea-sick passengers the object of avoiding more than four hundred miles of the heavy seas of the Southern Pacific is a further inducement. A naturalist finds an additional attraction in the general sympathy and helpfulness which he may expect from every officer in a German ship. Courtesy and friendly feeling are almost invariably to be found on board our steamers, but the pursuits of a naturalist rarely seem to call forth the slightest show of interest.
Our departure was fixed for two p.m., but in fact we did not move till past seven, long after dark at this season. On getting out to sea we found a moderate swell running from the southward, and moved slowly, as coal was economized. On the following morning we found ourselves rather far from land, and, although the weather was moderately clear, we had only a few distant glimpses of the coast during the day. The barometer fell slowly about two-tenths of an inch from morning to night, and it seemed evident that we were about to bid farewell to the bright skies of Central Chili. We were to take in coal for the voyage to Europe at Lota, about two hundred and fifty nautical miles south of Valparaiso. That distance could be easily accomplished, even by the Rhamses, in twenty-four hours; but as there was no object in arriving before morning, we economized fuel and travelled slowly. Heavy rain fell during the entire night, and ceased only when, on the morning of May 31, we entered the harbour of Lota.
Lota is a place which, although not marked on Stanford’s latest map of South America, has within a short time risen to considerable importance, owing to the discovery of extensive deposits of lignite of excellent quality. I have heard various estimates of its value as steam coal, the lowest of which set five tons of Lota coal as equal to four of Welsh anthracite. The seams appear to be of considerable thickness, and the underground works have now extended to a considerable distance from the shore. All the ocean steamers returning to Europe now call here for their provision of fuel, and in addition the proprietor has established extensive works for smelting copper and for making glass. The owner of this great property is a lady, the widow of the late Mr. Cousiño, whose income is rated at about £200,000 a year. About 2500 people are constantly employed, who, with their families, inhabit a small town of poor appearance which has grown up on the hill overlooking the harbour.