Part 3—Chapter V.
The Cordilleras.
The voyager sailing from the Atlantic into the Pacific Ocean passes a dark granite headland rising nearly three thousand feet out of the water, and which may be distinctly seen at a distance of sixty miles. It is Cape Horn—the southern end, broken off by the Strait of Magellan, of that range of mighty mountains which runs in a northerly course along the western coast of South America, rising into lofty pinnacles—the summits of many covered with perpetual snow—sinking at length only at the northern extremity, where the narrow Isthmus of Panama unites the two continents. Again it gradually rises in Mexico, and runs on under the name of the Rocky Mountains, at a less elevation and a greater distance from the sea, till it sinks once more into the snow-covered plains of the Arctic region. We must, however, confine ourselves to the South American portion of the range. For the entire distance its summits are distinctly seen from the ocean, many at a distance of upwards of a hundred miles. Between their base and the shores of the Pacific there is, however, a level tract, in some parts consisting of arid plains, from fifteen to fifty miles in width.
In crossing them the traveller finds not a drop of water to quench his raging thirst, nor a blade of grass to feed his weary steed. Among the rocky caverns of those mountain heights the savage bear has its abode, the mighty condor takes its flight from their rugged peaks into the blue ether, and the cold-looking llama, the vicuña, and alpaca find ample pasturage. In the lower, the fierce jaguar ranges amidst its forests of graceful palm-trees, the terrible alligator dwells on the banks of its streams, and the anaconda watches for its prey; while bananas, yams, mandioc, and all the fruits of a tropical clime, attain perfection. This mighty range, however, does not run its length in one distinct line, but separates; in some parts with deep valleys between them, like that of the Puncu of Avisca, while at others there are vast
table-lands; again, however, to unite and spread out into numerous rugged sierras.
The western portion of these ranges is properly the Cordilleras; while the eastern, which slopes towards the wide-extending plains of Brazil, forms the true Andes. The southern portion skirts the bleak shores of Patagonia in a single sierra, for a distance of nearly one thousand miles, in some parts rising to the height of seven thousand feet above the ocean. Entering Chili, the mountains rise higher and higher, till they culminate in the mighty peak of Aconcagua, the most lofty height of the whole range.
At the boundary-line of Bolivia the chain separates into two portions, enclosing the great table-land of Desuguadero, thirteen thousand feet above the sea. At one end of this lofty region is the city of Potosi, rising above the clouds—the highest in the world, erected amid the groans and tears of the hapless natives compelled to labour at its far-famed silver-mines. At the other is found Cuzco, the ancient capital of the Incas. Between them lies the Lake of Titicaca, the centre of bygone Peruvian civilisation.
Running still parallel with the coast, and looking down upon the modern city of Lima, the range passes through Peru till it again divides in three portions at the confines of the equator, where it once more forms two lines, which rise in that magnificent congregation of mountains which surround the famous Valley of Quito. Here no less than twenty-one volcanoes rear their lofty summits, many of them crowned with perpetual snow, amid which Chimborazo and Cotopaxi are pre-eminent.