"Do you live in this part of the province, Mr. Harris?" Mrs. Weldon asked.
"No, indeed; far away; I live down to the south, close to the borders of Chili. At present I am taking a journey north-eastwards to Atacama."
"Atacama!" exclaimed Dick; "are we anywhere near the desert of Atacama?"
"Yes, my young friend," rejoined Harris, "you are just on the edge of it. It extends far beyond those mountains which you see on the horizon, and is one of the most curious and least explored parts of the continent."
"And are you travelling through it alone?" Mrs. Weldon inquired.
"Yes, quite alone; and it is not the first time I have performed the journey. One of my brothers owns a large
[Illustration: "He is my little son.">[
farm, the hacienda of San Felice, about 200 miles from here, and I have occasion now and then to pay him business visits."
After a moment's hesitation, as if he were weighing a sudden thought, he continued,-
"I am on my way there now, and if you will accompany me I can promise you a hearty welcome, and my brother will be most happy to do his best to provide you with means of conveyance to San Francisco."