THE ACONCAGUA RIVER.
After creeping along the shore and then through a valley, the railroad soon joins the Aconcagua River, which leaps and foams along, thus forming a series of diminutive cascades. In the winter time the change in temperature is very marked as the upward climb continues. In places the valley spreads out to quite generous proportions, and one will see haciendas that are well kept up and which show evidence of careful cultivation. Contrast is afforded by the sight of oxen drawing one-handled, wooden ploughs. How powerful must have been the Moorish influence in Spain, for these ploughs are exact duplicates of the plough of ancient Chaldea and Egypt, which was carried along the coast of Barbary into Spain, and left there as a heritage to the Spaniards, who introduced it into the New World. The general impression left with the traveller over this route, between Valparaiso and Santiago, is one of comparative barrenness and desolation.
Viña del Mar, Limache and Quillota are three quite important towns that are passed en route, the latter two of which have some important manufacturing establishments. Llai Llai (pronounced Yi-yi) is about half way, and this is the diverging point for the two routes. One leads to the capital, and the other is the continuation of the transcontinental railroad. Llai Llai is a pleasant little town of five or six thousand inhabitants, and is situated about twenty-six hundred and twenty-five feet above sea level. A number of fruit sellers are sure to be at the station, and one who does not purchase a few of the delicious pears or peaches, that are sold so reasonably, misses a great treat. They are grown in a rich valley below which is a sort of agricultural Arcadia.
The through cars are switched to another track, a different engine is attached to them and the traveller is soon bound for Los Andes. The journey does not differ greatly from that already described. The city of San Felipe is the largest town passed and it is situated amidst well cultivated fields. It is a city of about twelve thousand. Soon afterwards the train reaches Santa Rosa de Los Andes, which marks a break in the journey. Here it is necessary to change trains, and frequently to stay over night. It is at the foothills of the Andes, and one can find many pleasant little excursions into the foothills here, if he has the inclination to tarry for a few days. The climate is good, and the physical wants of the traveller are very well looked after at the hotel. A few Americans will be found there, for the railroad is operated by that nationality.
LOOKING TOWARDS ACONCAGUA.
If it is the summer time one will find Los Andes a very pleasant little place, with quite an abundance of vegetation around it. The altitude is about twenty-six hundred feet, which gives it a delightful climate. Fruits grow abundantly, and the fruit-canning industry has been considerably developed. This is in the province of Aconcagua, which contains some of the most notable elevations in the entire republic, and, in fact, in the entire world. This province is about as large as Connecticut and Rhode Island combined. In addition to the eastern boundary of lofty peaks there are numerous low hills, between which lie fertile valleys. Through the use of irrigation agriculture flourishes in these valleys, and there is a considerable production of grains and wine. There are also a number of silver and copper mines in the province. San Felipe is the capital, and is distant about seventy-eight miles from both Santiago and Valparaiso.
“Vamonos,” says the conductor of the narrow gauge train, as it pulls out of the station on its way to the limits of Chilean territory. One will begin to take notice of his fellow-travellers. The passengers will be found to be of many nationalities, and of many shades of colour, for, since the railway journey is continuous, fewer people take the much longer route via the Straits of Magellan. There will be Chilenos, with big hats and ponchos, and Chilenas, whose faces are coated with powder or paste. There will be priests in beaver hats and black gowns, which reach to their feet. Soldiers in uniforms modelled after the German army are quite likely to be companions as far as the border. Americans, British, French, Germans, Italians and Argentinians—all of these nationalities go to make up a potpourri of nations and national characteristics. As the start is generally made in the morning, one sees the stars disappear and the dawn break over the mountains. The gray skies turn to a steel-blue, then to a rosy pink, until, at last, the highest peaks are illuminated by the rays of the sun. One may leave Los Andes clad in its summer plumage, with myriads of butterflies and moths flitting about, but these characteristics soon disappear, for the upward climb begins almost immediately. In the next thirty-five miles this rack and pinion road climbs upward more than seven thousand feet. It is a much steeper ascent than on the Argentine side, for it requires three times the distance to reach the same level on that slope.
The track follows the course of the Aconcagua River. This river is at no time a great stream, yet the total volume of water carried down in its swift-flowing current must be considerable. Many glimpses of the simple natives, and their primitive means of conveyance, are afforded on the ancient highway that threads the same valley. On the mountainside an occasional mud hut may be seen around and over which climb creepers and flowering vines. The scenery is beautiful and full of variations. Every turn of the tortuous track reveals a new scene of beauty, and there are few railway journeys in the world that will afford a greater variety of views than this overland route to Buenos Aires. The mountains grow from grand to grander, as if Ossa had been piled upon Pelion. When sunlight and shadow play upon the rock the contrasts are dazzling and the senses gladdened. There is a prodigality of colours such as even the Yosemite, the Grand Cañon or the Dolomites do not surpass. Guardia Viega, the “old guard,” is one of the stations, and is so named because it was for two centuries a guard station on the Antiguo Camino, or ancient road between the two republics. The vegetation becomes scanter as the altitude increases, but, scant as it is, it is a pleasing change to the traveller coming from the other direction. Juncal, which for several years was the terminus, is passed. One of the most beautiful views afforded is that of the narrow gorge, known as the Salto del Soldado, the Soldier’s Leap, through which the tempestuous waters of the river foam and toss. There is a tradition connected with this strange freak of nature of which the Chileans are proud. During the war of independence it is said that a Chilean pursued by the enemy, leaped across this chasm and saved his life. Owing to the width it is an almost impossible tale to believe.
