At daylight the next morning the caravan wound down among the hills to a level pampa, with barren mountains to the north.
The Mendoza diligence passed, drawn by six tired horses. Besides drawing his share of the weight of the carriage, each animal carried upon his back a postilion, who did not fail to use whip or spur as necessity demanded.
The plain that we were upon was covered with immense piles of decomposed granite, how placed in such positions it is difficult to surmise. The thorn and algarroba tree grew abundantly. Our course for the remainder of the day continued over the pampa, with hills growing more distinct each hour in the distance: a strong wind blew steadily from the Cerro until dark, when it died away, and a calm, lovely night succeeded.
The following day we left the plains, and travelled through a hilly country, which gradually became more and more irregular as we approached the River Quinto, which stream we reached about noon, and halted on its banks for dinner.
The country near the river was sandy, and covered with scattered thorn-bushes. The banks of the Quinto, at the ford where we camped, were high, and almost perpendicular. The bed of the river appeared to be formed of quicksand in agitation, and the current was very strong. A few mud huts were close to the river on each side, and their occupants had a great quantity of beef cut in strips, drying for winter use, together with sliced pumpkins, which two articles of diet form the principal support of the people; the sterility of the soil will not support a healthy crop of corn.
Large flocks of parrots, of a species that dig holes in the banks in which to deposit their eggs, like our northern bank swallows (Cotyle riparia), filled the air with loud cries, and gave some appearance of life to the scene. The town of Rio Quinto was not far off; but as the road lay in a different direction, I did not get a glimpse of it, but, judging by the few lazy natives that I saw, who appeared as if laboring under mental derangement, with two prominent traits visible,—selfishness and idleness,—I did not feel that I was losing much in not visiting the place.
Dinner over, we prepared to move. Crossing the river, we found the ascent of the opposite bank the most difficult to surmount of any obstacle we had met on the road; great exertions were made to get the carts up the rise, and the oxen were most terribly goaded by the drivers. One peon, with loud imprecations, thrust his goad into an animal so far that it could not be withdrawn until the iron was pulled out of the goad-stick, when the man caught it, and jerked so fiercely, that when it came from the wound the blood followed it in a little stream. This exhibition of brutality afforded satisfaction to the other drivers, who laughed at the fellow as he cursed the ox for being the cause of the breaking of his new picano. At last we were all across the river and in motion.
The high plain upon the opposite side was covered with thorns and algarroba, save here and there some spot more fertile than the rest, which sustained a growth of coarse grass. In crossing this tract the wheels of the carts sank into the deep ruts to the hubs, and raised clouds of dust that were almost choking.
I covered myself with a woollen poncho, for I well knew that it was doubtful if an opportunity to bathe would again present itself before we reached San Luis, the great town of the interior. During the afternoon a little boy passed us, driving to his house by the river a flock of goats and sheep; the last-named animals looked very ragged, from the custom of the people, who still adhere to the old practice of pulling out the wool from the skin instead of shearing, at such times and in such quantities as they need it.
As the moon was a few days old, the caravan kept on until eight o’clock, when it encamped on the travesia.