252

DIFFICULTIES OF TRAVELLING.

the level of the sea*. The pathway is very narrow, varying indeed from only a foot to sixteen inches in breadth; in some places it is sunk so deep, as to present the appearance of a gallery dug in the ground and left open above. The rock is in general covered with a thick layer of clay, in which the torrents have hollowed out gulleys eighteen or twenty feet deep: along these muddy channels the traveller is often obliged to grope his way, for more than a mile at a time. Occasionally he meets a string of oxen, the usual beasts of burden, with difficulty forcing a passage; and then he is reduced to the uncomfortable necessity of lifting himself up in the best way he can, by the aid of roots, &c., and letting them pass under him. As these animals are accustomed to tread in the same tracks, they form small furrows across the road separated by narrow ridges; in very rainy seasons these ridges are hidden by water, and the unfortu nate foot-traveller missing them, often steps into the furrows.

Such then was the route by which Humboldt, and his equally adventurous companion Bonpland, crossed the mountain of Quindiu on foot in the month of October, 1801, followed by a train of twelve oxen, carrying their collections and instruments. During the last three or four days, while descending the western declivity, they were exposed to a deluge of rain. "The road," says Humboldt, " passes through a country full of bogs, and covered with bamboos. Our shoes were so torn by the prickles which shoot out from these gigantic gramina, that we were forced to go barefooted. This cir

*The summit of the pass of the great St. Bernard in the Pennine Alps is more than 8200 feet above the level of the sea; that of the Simplon is 6578 feet; and that of the Cervin, the loftiest pass in Europe, is 11,096 feet. The pass of Quindiu is not the highest in the Andes; nor is its elevation so great as that of some of the inhabited table-lands.

cumstance, the continual humidity, the length of the passage, the muscular force required to tread in a thick and muddy clay, the necessity of fording deep torrents of icy water, render this journey extremely fatiguing. It is not, however, accompanied by the dangers with which the credulity of the people alarms travellers. The road is narrow, but the places where it skirts precipices are very rare."

Many persons, however, being unable or unwilling to encounter the fatigue of this journey on foot, and the road being utterly impracticable for mules, recourse has been had to a singular mode of conveyance,-namely, in chairs tied to men's backs. The occupation of these porters, or cargueros, as they were called, formed a regular trade in the Cordilleras; and people there talked of going on a man's back, as naturally as we talk of going on horseback. The travellers in their route sometimes met a file of fifty or sixty of these mencarriers.

254

THE VIJAO-PLANT.

In the foreground is a band of cargueros coming up the mountain; there is represented the mode of fastening on the shoulders the chair made of bamboo-wood, which is steadied by a head-stall similar to that worn by horses and oxen. The roll in the hand of the third carguero is the roof, or rather moveable house, which is generally used to shelter travellers who cross the forests of Quindiu. It is customary on reaching Hague, where they prepare for the journey, to pluck in the adjoining mountains several hundred leaves of the vijao, a plant of the banana family. These leaves are about twenty inches in length, and fourteen inches in breadth; they are membranous and silky, and their lower surface is covered with a peculiar substance,—a sort of varnish, which enables them to resist the rain for a long time. In gathering them an incision is made in the middle rib, which is the continuation of the footstalk; and by this they are suspended when the roof is formed. When it is taken down, the leaves are spread out and carefully rolled up in a cylindrical bundle. About a hundredweight of leaves will suffice to cover a hut large enough to contain six or eight persons.

"When the travellers," says Humboldt, "reach a spot in the midst of the forests where the ground is dry, and where they propose to pass the night, the cargueros lop a few branches from the trees, with which they make a tent. In a few minutes, this slight timber-work is divided into squares by the stalks of some climbing plant, or threads of the agava, placed in parallel lines, twelve or fifteen inches from each other. The vijao leaves, having been unrolled, are now spread over this framework, so as to cover each other in the same manner as the tiles of a house. These huts, thus hastily built, are cool and commodious. If, during his stay, the