WATER-CARRIER AND DONKEYS.
Paita is on a bay affording good anchorage for ships; it is the seaport of the city of Piura, which lies at the foot of the mountains, on the other side of the desert of Sechura. There is no sign of vegetation in and around Paita, and the water which supplies the wants of the residents is brought from a point thirty miles inland. Formerly it was transported on the backs of donkeys, but recently a pipe has been laid for the entire distance, and the inhabitants are no longer dependent upon the vagaries of the long-eared animal for their aqueous supply.
DESERT SCENE.
As soon as the steamer dropped her anchor the Doctor and the youths went on shore. They landed at an iron pier in front of a beach of gray sand, where there was a single street of houses, mostly very frail in construction. Some of the shops and dwellings were solidly built, but the majority were of a sort of basket-work covered with plastered mud, presenting many impromptu loop-holes through which the occupants could gaze on the outer world. Back of the town is a cliff of volcanic stone, rising rather steeply; Frank and Fred climbed to the top of the cliff, while the Doctor remained in conversation with one of the English residents. The youths could hardly say if they had been repaid for their exertions, as they saw only the distant range of mountains beyond the desert, which was said to be about fifty miles across. The desert was of the same color as the beach and the cliffs behind it, and the landscape of Paita may be set down as monotonous.
"Whether you are repaid or not," said the Doctor, when they returned, "may be an open question, but you have had a view of Peru, and certainly that is worth something."
"I hope the rest of Peru is different from what we have just seen," replied Frank, with a laugh.
"You have had a fair sample of it here," answered the Doctor. "From this point to the southern boundary of Peru there is little else than a strip of desert between the Andes and the sea. In some parts of it rain never falls, and the whole expanse is barren of vegetation. Here and there rivers come down to the ocean, but none of them are large, and the majority are dry for the greater part of the year. The Guayas, which we ascended from Guayaquil to Bodegas, is the largest river on the whole Pacific coast of South America."
"I understand," said Fred, "that the strip between the mountains and the ocean on the western side of South America is very narrow, and therefore the rivers cannot be large; but how does it happen that there is so little rain, and, in some places, none at all?"