We engaged two calèches, rattle-trap vehicles, like gigs with hoods, to carry us to Santiago, the capital of Chili. One horse was in the shafts; another on the left side was ridden by a postilion on a high-peaked saddle, with a long knife at the saddle-bow; he being dressed with a straw hat over a silk handkerchief tied round his head and the ends hanging down behind, a short jacket, coarse pantaloons, high boots, huge spurs, and a poncho hanging over one shoulder. Jerry and Mr McRitchie went together, Fleming accompanied me, and we had old Surley, who sat up between our legs, looking sagaciously out before him. Away we rattled. The road was much better than we had expected to find it in a place so far away from England as this seemed. My idea was, that once round Cape Horn, we should not see anything but painted savages or long-tailed Chinese; and I was quite surprised to find good roads and carriages in Chili. We slept two nights on the road; admired Santiago, which is full of laughing gas, the air is so fine; it stands 1700 feet above the level of the sea. Then we started off on horseback towards the Cordilleras, to a spot called the Snow Bank, whence Santiago is regularly supplied with snow all the year round. At the capital we fell in with an English sailor, Tom Carver by name, who had served with Fleming under Lord Cochrane, and having married a Chilian wife, had settled in the country. He came as our interpreter, for without him a guide we procured would have been of very little service. Leaving our horses at a small rancho, or farm-house, we set off with our guns, Fleming and the guide carrying most of the provisions, though we each of us had a share. The scenery was wild and grand in the extreme, consisting of the snow-capped peaks of the Andes, of rugged heights, and of dark glens and gorges, with precipices which went sheer down many hundred feet below us. We had not gone far before we came to a suspension bridge made of hides, cut into strips and twisted together, thrown across a fearful gorge. Bundles of sticks placed on the ropes form the road. It was full of holes, and as I looked through, far down into the torrent foaming below, I could not help feeling how very disagreeable it would be to slip through. Surley followed at my heels, and even he did not like it. We now reached a wide valley, on the sides of which, far up on the mountains, we descried a number of animals, which Jerry and I concluded, without doubt, were the much-desired
guanacoes. Mr McRitchie, with Simmons, the sailor, and the guide, were ahead; Fleming was with us; so we agreed, as we could not fail of being seen by our companions, we would climb the mountain in chase of the game. Up, up we climbed, old Surley after us. He seemed to think it very good fun; but Fleming, not accustomed to such exercise, was soon blown.
“Come along, Fleming,” cried Jerry; “we shall soon be up to the beasts; don’t give in, man.”
“No, Mr Gerard, you go on, and leave me to follow you slowly,” answered Fleming. “If I stop, you’ll easily find me again.”
We, of course, were ready enough to follow this advice; so Jerry, Surley, and I, pushed on up the mountain as fast as we could climb towards the nearest herd of guanacoes. They were of a light-brown colour, of about the size of a stag. I should describe the animals we saw as having small heads, with large and brilliant eyes, thick lips, and ears long and movable. The neck was very long, and kept perfectly upright, while the haunches were slightly elevated; so that they looked somewhat like little camels—the purpose of which, indeed, they serve when domesticated. We could see several herds in different parts on the side of the mountain. There was one low down near the path in the direction the doctor and his companions had taken. They were feeding quietly, when one looked up, then another, and away the whole herd scampered at a tremendous rate up the mountain. We thought that the sight of the doctor’s party had put them to flight; and it showed us that we must be cautious in approaching the herd we had marked. Old Surley was very eager to be after them, and we had great difficulty in keeping him back.
The air was keen and at the same time hot. There was not a cloud in the intense blue sky, and the rays of the sun came down with great force, and blistered our skin and peeled our noses till we were afraid of touching them; but we did not think much about that trifle while the guanacoes were in sight. Concealing ourselves as much as possible behind rocks and bushes, and here and there an evergreen quillay-tree, we got nearer and nearer to them. Sometimes we got behind clumps of the great chandelier-like cactus, whose sturdy green twisted stems afforded us capital shelter.
“It is lucky we are not very big, or we should not be able to hide ourselves so well,” observed Jerry as we crept on. The valley lay far below us, with steep precipices and a brawling torrent, with rocks and shrubs scattered about; and high above us wild jagged peaks and snow-covered mountain-tops. The stillness of the air was most extraordinary. Not a sound reached our ears. Never have I been in a wilder or more magnificent scene. I do not know what our four-footed companion thought of it, but he certainly enjoyed the idea of catching a guanaco—so did we, indeed, more than anything else. We had got within five hundred yards of the nearest without being discovered. Hitherto we had gone on very cautiously. Our eagerness overcame our discretion. We left cover and ran on exposing ourselves to view.
“Stop, stop, Harry!” sang out Jerry. “We are near enough to fire; stop and let us recover our wind.” The advice was good, and I was about to follow it, when one of the guanacoes turned his head and saw us. Before we could bring our rifles to our shoulders, they were off like the wind. Jerry was going to fire after them but I stopped him, pointing to another herd a short distance further off, along the side of the mountain.
“You’ll frighten them too if you do,” I observed. “Let us try to get up to them more cautiously.” One great difficulty was to keep Surley back, or he would have followed the herd till he had caught one of them, or broken his neck over a precipice. Consoling ourselves for our disappointment with