“Sooner shall these mountains crumble into dust than the people of Argentina and Chile break the peace to which they have pledged themselves at the feet of Christ the Redeemer.”
“THE CHRIST OF THE ANDES”
This is the inscription that appears on one of the tablets placed on the monument known as “The Christ of the Andes.” I know of no other monument, except the statue of Liberty enlightening the World, in the New York harbour, that is so imposing or impressive as this colossal statue, which is placed on a gigantic column in a pass almost thirteen thousand feet above the level of the sea. The silence and grandeur on all sides make it doubly impressive. The figure of Christ is twenty-six feet in height. In one hand it holds a cross, while the other is extended in a blessing, and as if uttering the one magic word “peace.” It was erected as a symbol of perpetual peace between the two nations, and was cast in bronze from the melted cannon of the two nations. Its location is on the international boundary line, which had just been established by arbitration, after war between these two countries seemed inevitable. A boundary standard has been set up right near it with the word “Chile” on one side and “Argentina” on the other. When this monument was dedicated, on the 13th of March, 1904, more than three thousand persons witnessed the ceremonies in this wild region. The appalling silence was broken by the roar of cannon and the music of bands. After these sounds had died away in the distance, there came the words of the Bishop of Ancud: “Not only to Argentina and Chile do we dedicate this monument, but to the world, that from this it may learn the lesson of universal peace.” Now that the railroad is completed these sturdy little animals have made their last trip, and fewer people will gaze upon this striking monument. The peon with a mail bag strapped on his back has tramped his way for the last time down the rocky trail in the winter snows. El Christo stands among the lonely crags, deserted, isolated and storm-swept, but ever with a noble dignity befitting the character.
The Chilean terminus of the tunnel is at Caracoles. From here another railroad of metre gauge, called the Trasandino Chileno, carries the traveller to the station of Los Andes. It has been found necessary to construct snow-sheds in many places in order to protect the track from snow-slides, which are likely to occur in August and September. From Los Andes to Valparaiso the route is over the Chilean State Railroad, which is of standard gauge, and passes through some rich and fertile valleys on its way towards the Pacific.
The scenery on the Chilean side is grandly picturesque and affords some magnificent views of mountain scenery. There are one hundred and eighteen bridges, an average of more than two bridges to the mile, from Caracoles to Los Andes. At El Portillo is the rock-bordered Inca Lake, on whose surface is reflected the mountains which slope abruptly into its waters. Masses of rock seem poised on ledges ready to project themselves down into the valleys with destruction in their path. One of the most wonderful sights is a narrow gorge, very deep, which forms the bed of a swift stream. At one place the overhanging rocks nearly meet, and this is called the Salto del Soldado, the Soldier’s Leap. It received this name because it is said that, during the early struggles for independence, a Chilean soldier, pursued by the enemy, escaped by leaping his horse over this chasm. How true the tale is I do not know, but it is a striking freak of nature, and is plainly visible from the train. There are in all one hundred and forty miles of the sublime in nature on the transandine railways, which will compare with any mountain railroad in the world, although the most sublime part, hitherto crossed by wagons or mules, will not be visible from the international express.
The Cordilleras of the Andes are formed of three distinct ranges running north and south. The western range forms the watershed and is the boundary line between Argentina and Chile, while the central range contains the highest peaks, Aconcagua, Mercedario and Tupungato. The eastern range is divided from the central one by a wide plain or plateau, several miles broad, known as the Uspallata, which is some six thousand feet above sea level and is one hundred and fifty miles long from Mendoza north. Without lakes or trees, this plain is one of the most desolate and uninteresting spots imaginable, but the varied colouring of the stratification is marvellous. This lower range conceals the higher peaks from view as one approaches from the Argentine side.
As one proceeds from Mendoza the upper valley begins to close in and the track pierces the main range of the Cordilleras between walls of porphyry and granite. To the north one gets at last a glimpse of Aconcagua some twenty-three thousand and eighty feet above sea level, and higher than any peak outside of the Himalayas. It is more than ninety miles from the Pacific and can be seen on a clear day from Valparaiso, for its lofty head is lifted up above its neighbours. It is on the Argentine side, and all the melted ice and snow from its slopes pours down over the pampas of that country. It is surrounded by winding valleys, by rugged and precipitous spurs and ridges which are difficult of access. One of the best views is from the Puente del Inca where the Horcones Valley opens out into the Cuevas Valley. It has been termed a volcano, but there are no signs of a crater and few traces of scoriæ. To the north of Aconcagua lies the Mercaderio, over twenty-two thousand feet, and to the south Tupungato, just a few feet lower. On the Chilean side, near the Cumbre, is Juncal (19,500 feet), and near it are the peaks of Pollera, Navarro, Maipo and the great volcano of San José.
The most striking aspect of these Andean solitudes is their terribly bleak and desolate appearance. Trees there are none, but only a few shrubs and blades of grass growing in the clefts of rocks here and there; nothing but a huge expanse of yellow sand and stone, with peaks rising on every hand whose extraordinary stratification presents many-coloured hues which are almost bewildering to the eye. Great torrents flow down their sides whose waters are of a dull, brackish colour. These are exceedingly rapid and full of dangerous holes, so that the fording of them is perilous. The line of perpetual snow is about seventeen thousand feet, although this varies. In the spring there is a very curious phenomenon at times on the glaciers and snow slopes. It consists of huge fields composed of cones, or pyramids, of frozen snow, some four or five feet high, placed close beside each other. These cones are called the nieve penitente, or penitent snow, because of its semblance to the cowled Penitent Friars. This effect is caused by the combined action of the sun and wind upon the frozen masses.
Aconcagua is distant about a dozen miles from the Inca or Cuevas. The weather, however, is uncertain even in summer, and a terrible wind usually prevails after sunrise. These render exploration work difficult and even dangerous. In the winter the snowfall is excessive. In the summer there is no snowfall and the wind blows the dust from the desert-like valleys in stifling clouds, which are oftentimes almost unendurable. Storms which are almost blizzards spring up as by magic on the high altitudes. The lightning is especially vivid and dangerous.