Half way up the precipice were holes, said to have been cut by the ancient discoverers of the country, to assist in searching for precious metals, but, proving unprofitable, had been abandoned. I continued along the valley until dusk, when the barking of dogs, and occasional glimpses of a light, guided me to one side of the valley, where a few huts constitute the hamlet of El Durazno. These huts were inhabited by muleteers, who suffered greatly from poverty. Here and there the rough soil had been levelled, so as to be susceptible of irrigation, and a few patches of clover gave a cheering aspect, when contrasted with the barren mountains behind the hamlet. An old woman invited me to enter her house, and pass the night, as it was damp outside, and the heavy clouds that hovered about us looked as if about to descend.
The hut was built of sticks and mud, and adjoining it was the kitchen.
Having turned my horse adrift, I entered, and, as I reclined upon a skin couch, commenced inquiring of the hostess relative to the snow on the main Cordillera. I was unable, however, to obtain any information from that source. Our party was soon increased by the entry of several rude-looking fellows, armed with long knives. The place was so small that we reclined, packed one against the other, men, women, and children, promiscuously. The old woman commenced cooking an asado upon the fire; it had hardly begun to splutter and crackle, when the dog that had sat beside the fire caught up the meat in his mouth, and commenced masticating it with great gusto. The woman, screaming out, “O, sus Ave Maria!” made a clutch at the dog, but was unsuccessful in recovering the prize. One of the men caught the animal by the throat, and choked him until the meat was drawn from his mouth, when, with a hasty “Ha, perro!” it was returned to the fire, and cooked for the lookers-on. More men and dogs came in, and, thinking it best to retreat while it remained in my power to do so, I requested my hostess to allow me to retire. Taking a saucer of fat, in which a bit of rag was burning, she led the way into the other shanty, and assisted in spreading my saddle cloths upon a rough sofa, built of boards, which had been placed in the middle of the floor to prevent the approach of the binchucas that were secreted in the crevices in the walls.
These uncomfortable disturbers of night dreams are as large as the common May beetle, and are armed with a bill resembling that of a mosquito, which is used with great effect upon the victim. Before fixing upon a person, the body of the binchuca is thin and flat; but after his feast is over, he is bloated and disgusting to look upon. As this tormentor is many times larger than the mosquito, so does the irritability caused by its leeching process exceed in like proportion that of the other pest.
When about to withdraw from the room, the woman bade me sleep with the utmost confidence, and not fear any harm. But as the conversation of the men in the kitchen had been about the plata that might be in my possession, I was very particular to impress her with the idea that North Americans feared nothing; and at the same time I drew a long knife from under my poncho, and placed it beneath the sheep skin that was to serve for my bed. When she withdrew, I lay down; but as I had a thought of the binchucas before I prepared for sleep, I carefully rolled myself in my blankets, Indian fashion, and defied them to do their worst.
Hardly had I begun to doze, when a sensation of something disagreeable, touching me, aroused me to the fact that the vile pests were coming from every quarter of the hovel. I could hear them crawling up the sides of the room and across the ceiling, when with their usual degree of impudence, one after another dropped plump upon my body. But my swathing clothes served as an armor, and they could not enter in to the feast. All the while they clung with considerable tenacity to the coarse blankets, trying to effect an entrance, but they had met their conqueror; for, after waiting until the swarming was over, and the army had fairly camped upon me, I suddenly and carefully rolled over and over upon the sofa, until the life was forced out of nearly all of them, when, being satisfied that a great victory had been achieved, I dropped into a deep slumber.
When morning came, and I passed out of the hut, I found that the valley was filled with mist, and I deferred setting out until the thick clouds had scattered. About nine o’clock a breeze sprang up, which soon cleared the valley of mists, and I resumed my journey. Soon after my leaving El Durazno, the valley expanded into a plain of a desert character. The country between the mountains again became undulating and broken; at three leagues from the last hamlet, El Sequion, a collection of two or three mud houses and several ranchos, appeared.
From one of these ranchos a China (half Indian) woman came out, and questioned me as to my motives for travelling alone, on foot, in the desolate valley. When I spoke of crossing the Cordillera, the good creature lifted both her hands, and exclaimed in colloquial Spanish, “Por Dios, don’t go any farther. A man from Chili stopped here the other day—his mouth and cheeks were like a soft peach with the frost!” Another woman joined us, and declared that I was too young to be so far from home, and questioned me to the effect “if my mother knew that I was out.” In their inquiries, however, they exhibited a kindness that to me was very gratifying, and I felt that in case of accident upon the road, I had at least two friends near at hand.
Beyond the Sequion, the valley grew narrower, and in places was so filled with stones and detritus as to lame the old horse. The road now became a mere defile, the steep sides of the sierras towering above it to a great height, their bareness being sometimes relieved by dwarf cacti, that grew in crevices where soil had lodged; these plants were in flower, some white, others of a yellow hue.
The clouds again enveloped the mountains, and while I was groping along over the broken rock, the tinkling of a mule’s bell broke the stillness, and a moment later I came upon a circle of pack-saddles and mules’ cargoes, lying upon the ground. A deep voice called out, “Come here, friend;” and I was soon acquainted with the capataz and muleteers of Don Fernando de Oro, a rich San Juan merchant, who had sent his troop to Uspallata to await an opportunity to cross to Chili, in advance of the troops of the other merchants. The don was daily expected by the capataz, who had been three or four days on the road already. The capataz urged me to remain with the troop until the next morning, which invitation I accepted, and tying my horse to some resinous bushes, I sat down to a sumptuous meal of boiled corn, dried beef, and pepper, while my jaded animal satisfied himself in cropping the tops of the bushes, and a kind of stunted weed that grew among the rocks. Towards dusk it rained, but my heavy blanket kept me dry. The guides huddled around the dying embers, vainly endeavoring to warm their benumbed limbs; around us the hills seemed to be shaken by the heavy thunders that reverberated along the mountain tops.