CHAPTER IIIVALE OF PARADISE

THE WEST COAST.

When the Stars and Stripes have faded from view at Balboa, and the jagged backbone of the continent has disappeared into the mists on either horizon, towards Nicaragua and Colombia, one feels that a new world has beenreached. The real South America has been entered, and, when the good ship crosses the Line, about the third day out, home and the rest of the world seem very far away. It is a long journey to Valparaiso, Chile, if one takes a steamer that stops at all the intermediate ports, as it lasts more than three weeks. There are swifter vessels, however, that avoid Ecuador and make the journey in twelve days. The slower vessels follow the coast line, and the passenger is given many a view of the Andes, whose peaks are crowned with eternal snows but are frequently wrapped in fleecy clouds. At Guayaquil, the westernmost city of South America, it is even possible on occasions in clear weather to see Chimborazo, eighty miles from the sea. Nowhere in the world is there a greater assembly of lofty peaks than will be seen as the vessel proceeds along the coast. The Spaniards called these “sierras,” because their uneven summits resembled the teeth of a saw. Some of the peaks are regular in outline, but more often they are irregular and even grotesque, so that the imaginative minds of the natives have fancied resemblances to works of nature and have given them corresponding names. Nowhere in the world arethere stranger freaks in geological formations, or more startling contrasts. Near the coast run the foothills, which gradually become higher and bolder until they end in the loftiest peaks. Back, and beyond all, an occasional volcanic peak may be seen lifting itself in solitary grandeur.

At the mouth of the Guayas River, in Ecuador, there is a dense growth of tropical vegetation. It seems to be a veritable hothouse of nature, where plants and trees wage a desperate war for existence against the vines, mosses and other parasites that attack them. This is the end of such scenes, however, for days and days. It would be difficult to find a more dreary aspect than the coast of South America from the boundary of Ecuador almost to Valparaiso. From the water’s edge to the Andes chain of mountains stretches a yellow and brown desert, unrelieved by a tinge of green, except where irrigation has been employed. At midday all is clear, but in the evening a purple haze covers the whole landscape. It bears a close resemblance to parts of Arizona and New Mexico in general characteristics. Cliffs three hundred to four hundred feet high, and which are scooped out intofantastic shapes, often form the water’s edge. The distant mountains look gloomy and forbidding. It very seldom rains there, perhaps once in six or seven years is a fair average. In other places a generation can almost grow up and pass away without an experience with rain. When it does rain, however, the desertlike plains and slopes immediately spring into life. Where for years there has been nothing but drifting sands appear meadows of nutritious grasses, and flowers and plants spring up in great confusion. Wherever the seeds come from is a mystery, but every nook and corner is soon ablaze with vegetation.

The boats stop at many ports from Ecuador to Chile. These little towns will be found nestling in little hollows at the foot of the hills, or tacked on the hillside. Each one is walled away from the other, and each is a gateway to a fertile valley or rich mining section. Sometimes a narrow gauge railway runs back into the interior, but there are no connections coastwise. The steamer furnishes the only communication with the world beyond, and the arrival of the boat is an event of great importance. Each town has its own specialty. At Guayaquil and Paita many merchants willcome aboard with Panama hats, and good-natured bargaining will then be carried on with the passengers. Buying a hat is a tedious matter. The seller does not expect more than about one-third of the price he asks. If the passenger looks indifferent the native will hunt him up and reduce his offer. “How much would the señor give?” “Thirty soles! That would be robbery.” But the ship’s gong strikes and the time of departure is at hand. “Here, señor, is your hat.Muchas gracias. Adios!” The deal is concluded, and you have your hat at the price you offered, if you are shrewd enough to see that a cheaper hat was not substituted at the last minute. Deck traders board the vessel and stay with it for days, doing a good business in almost everything from vegetables and fruits to dry goods, and jewelry. Parrots, monkeys and even mild-eyed ant-eaters are offered the passengers for pets. Passengers join the boat at every stop, and, instead of hat boxes, as American women would be burdened with, the women here all bring on board their bird cages with their noisy occupants. Swarthy Spaniards and the darker-hued natives join the boat, many of them dressed in gay attire, and particularlywearing gaudy neckties and waistcoats. The boat always anchors at some distance from the shore, while passengers and freight are brought out either in lighters or row-boats. At some places a dozen lighters may be filled with freight for the steamer. The ship’s crew bring up from the hold scores of bales and boxes with labels familiar and unfamiliar. International commerce becomes real—almost a thing of flesh and blood. Each sling load brought up from the hold has its own tale to tell, and everyone becomes commercialized. The crowing of roosters at night, the bleating of sheep and bawling of the cattle remind you of a country barnyard at times, for the boat carries its own live stock, which are killed as the conditions of the larder demand. Thus it is that these slow galleons float along the coast past Paita, Pacasmayo, Salaverry, Pisco and the rest of the little ports. Five minutes after the ladder would be lowered the deck would become a floating bazaar.

Guayaquil is the port for the equatorial republic of Ecuador. Quite a business is done there, for more than one-third of the world’s supply of cacao beans, from which our chocolate is made, comes through this port. It isgenerally infested with more or less fever, and most people prefer to make their stay as short as possible. One of the curious things to attract the traveller’s attention is to see the mules with their legs encased in trousers. This is not due to any excessive modesty on the part of the inhabitants, for children several years old may be seen without as much clothing on. The purpose is to protect the legs of the animals from the bite of the gadfly, which is very numerous here. It was near Guayaquil that Pizarro landed with one hundred and eighty men to conquer the empire of the Incas. The capital of Ecuador, Quito, lies in a saucer-shaped cup at the foot of Mt. Pichincha, with many other lofty peaks in sight. It perhaps retains more of the original characteristics than any other city of South America. It vies with the City of Mexico the distinction of being the oldest city of the Americas. For centuries prior to the coming of the Spaniards it was the capital of one of the branches of the Incas, and Atahualpa used to eat his meals off plates made of solid gold. Hitherto accessible only over a long and difficult mountain trail, which was impassable during half of the year, Quito can now be reached by a railroad—thanks toAmerican enterprise. No less than twenty volcanoes are visible from the track, of which three are active, five dormant and twelve are classed as extinct.

Callao (pronounced Cal-ya-o) is the principal port of Peru. It is always full of steamers and masts and has a general aspect of business. More than a thousand vessels touch here every twelve months. Its history has been exciting and there are many monuments to its heroes. Some warships are generally floating in the harbour. Lima is distant but seven miles from Callao, and it is a ride of only twenty minutes by an excellent electric road of American construction throughout. To the hum of the trolley one is hurried past irrigated fields, beautiful gardens and villas, and Inca ruins many centuries old. As the boats remain at Callao for a day the traveller is able to spend a few hours in the “City of the Kings,” as Pizarro christened it. Lima is a wonderfully interesting city, and its history is full of romance. It preserves in wood and stone the spirit of old Spain as it was transplanted into the New World. Carved balconies, which were patterned after their native Andalusia, still overhang the narrow streets of the Peruvian capital.Up-to-date electric cars whirl past old monastery walls where life has scarcely changed in three centuries. The Limaños are an easy-going, pleasure-loving people, among whom the strenuous life has few disciples. It has been the scene of many revolutions, and the marks of street fighting are numerous. Churches and ecclesiastical institutions abound on every hand, and ecclesiastics are numerous on the streets. The cathedral, in which the sacristan will show the alleged bones of Francisco Pizarro, is a fine specimen of architecture—one of the best in the world. On another corner of the plaza is the passageway from which the conspirators emerged on their way to assassinate the conqueror. The building which was the headquarters of the Inquisition in South America occupies still another site on the plaza.

A MILK BOY IN PERU.

Pisco is the next port of importance, and it is situated near a rich and fertile irrigated valley where sugar-cane grows abundantly. It is the port also for the interior towns of Ayacucho and Huancavelica, where numerous rich mines are found. Just a few miles out at sea are the Chincha Islands, from which Peru obtained such a large revenue for the guanofound there. These deposits, once considered inexhaustible, because in places they were eighty feet or more in depth, have been almost exhausted. The great wealth received from them and nitrate has been dissipated.

At Mollendo, the last Peruvian port, there is a railway that runs to La Paz, the capital of the inland republic of Bolivia. It is a surf-lashed port where vessels are sometimes unable to land their passengers and freight. In fact the landing is through a “sort of Niagara Gorge gateway of rock, which gives to the mere landing some of the noise and a good deal of the excitement of a rescue at sea.” It takes three days’ travel to reach La Paz from Mollendo, as the train only runs by day. The first stage of the trip, as far as Arequipa, is over an almost trackless desert, where the wind piles the sand up in movable half-moon heaps. The sand-storms of the centuries have covered everything with these whitish particles, and the dusted peaks and hillocks stand out without relief of any kind. The second day brings the traveller to Lake Titicaca, the sacred lake of the Incas, which is crossed by boat, and a side trip will take the traveller to Cuzco, the capital of the Inca confederacy. Lake Titicacais the highest and one of the most wonderful lakes in the world. It is larger than all the lakes of Switzerland together, and lies in a hollow two and one-half miles above the waters of the ocean. Lying in a peaceful valley, in a scene of desolate grandeur, where the trees are stunted and only a few of the hardiest plants survive, lies La Paz. The City of Peace, its name indicates, but this city has been the scene of turmoil and strife entirely foreign to its name ever since the Spaniards invaded these solitudes. Bolivia is another Tibet—one of the highest inhabited plateaus in the world, as well as one of the richest mineral sections.

In no part of the world, perhaps, is there such an abundance of life in sea and air as along the coast of Peru. Soon after leaving Callao the tedium of the voyage is relieved by the flight of millions upon millions of birds. There are gulls, ducks, cormorants, divers of all kinds and great pelicans with huge pouches under their bills. The sea is as animated as the air, and schools of fish, innumerable in numbers, may be seen darting through the water with their fins showing above its surface. Danger besets them from above andfrom beneath. The divers poise on wing every few minutes and then drop suddenly into the sea like a flash. For a few seconds they disappear beneath the surface, and then reappear with a fish in their bills. The lumbering and stately pelicans drop with a mighty splash that sends up a dash of spray. These greedy birds continue this foraging process until their pouches are so filled with fish that they are unable to rise out of the water until the load is digested or they disgorge themselves. The seals and sea lions keep themselves as busy as the birds, and constantly display their sinuous and shiny bodies above the surface, as they pursue the fish or come up to breathe.

We passed by the famous guano islands just before nightfall. The air was filled with birds, all of which were flying toward a great island that lifted up its rocky surface above the blue of the sea. At some distance above the sea were the smaller birds, which, at a distance, looked like mere specks against the sky. A little lower were the pelicans flying in single file, and in flocks of from twelve to thirty. They seemed to play the game of “follow the leader,” for if the leader poised his wings or lifted himself higher all did the same. Nearthe surface were divers, called “pirates” in the local parlance, in flocks of a thousand or more. They sailed along just above the surface of the water and continually altered their formation. With the naked eye the number of birds was myriad, but the telescope showed ten times as many. As far as one could see there was the same multitude of birds, all heading for this one island. The island itself was black with the birds already settled for the night, but each new arrival seemed to find a resting place either on the surface of the rock or in the caves underneath. For countless ages these birds have occupied these sterile volcanic rocks as their resting place, and have deposited the guano which has brought millions of dollars of wealth into the Peruvian treasury. A glimpse of this remarkable bird life shows how the guano has accumulated in such enormous quantities.

ROW BOATS CROWDING AROUND A STEAMER.

The northern part of Chile contains the dreariest section of this forlorn coast. There are no harbours, and a tremendous surf which rolls half way around the world before it strikes a breakwater dashes into foam upon these beaches. Several prosperous towns are located here as a result of the workings ofnature’s laboratories. To reach these ports it is necessary to trust yourself to one of the boatmen, who crowd around the ladder as soon as the vessel drops anchor. Judicious bargaining is always advisable, and never pay the boatman until he has returned you safely to your floating hotel. The boat is guided through the surf with amazing skill, and it is very seldom that an accident occurs. They sometimes crowd each other off, however, in their eagerness to get the best position at the bottom of the ladder and secure the first passengers. But all these men are good swimmers, and the only result is a good wetting and much amusement for the steamer’s passengers who welcome any diversion.

Arica is the first port of importance in Chile at the north. It is only a day’s journey from Mollendo, the last Peruvian port. The Peruvian heaves a sigh when he enters Arica, but there is some hope in it, for he trusts to add this province to Peru’s possessions at some time in the future again. But at Iquique the hope fades, for sovereignty is lost for ever. Although not a large town, Arica has been the scene of several memorable events. It was here that were built the boats which carriedthe troops for the conquest of Chile. It was at that time a place of some importance among the natives, and the valleys back of it were densely populated and were cultivated by means of irrigation. Sir Francis Drake touched at this place in 1579, and found a collection of Indian huts on the shore. It is supposed to have been founded in 1250 by the Incas. It is like an oasis in the desert to the traveller who has coasted along the shore for days or weeks without seeing vegetation. At the present time it is famous for its oranges. They are grown in the rich valleys that lie behind the rather unattractive and forbidding hills next to the coast, and through the opening in the flat-topped hills one is permitted to catch glimpses of these valleys. Near the coast is a prehistoric cemetery filled with dead bodies, which were embalmed with almost as great skill as the mummies of Egypt.

Arica is a pleasant little place of several thousand inhabitants. There is a handsome little plaza which encloses a plot of shrubbery adorned with morning-glories and purple vine trees. One of the striking features is the brilliant colouring of the houses. There is also a rather imposing parochial church which ispainted in the gaudiest colours that I have seen in any country; and it would be hard to duplicate it anywhere, even in Spanish America, a land of rich colouring. It used to be a great market for the skins of the vicuña, which are so beautiful. In late years, however, the skins are becoming less plentiful and the prices have jumped accordingly. The harbour is commodious and well sheltered. Interesting glimpses of native life are afforded by the Indian women coming to town. Some of them ride astride, being almost concealed by the huge panniers containing their market produce. Others trudge along by the side of the animals.

From this city a highway runs into the interior of Peru and Bolivia, which was constructed by the Incas a thousand years ago and has been used ever since. To-day caravans of mules, donkeys and llamas may be seen constantly passing up and down this ancient trail. They bring down ore and take back mining supplies and miscellaneous merchandise. It is known as the “camino real,” and is several hundred miles long. Near here is supposed to be the underground outlet of Lakes Titicaca and Poopo. One argument advanced in favour of this theory is that a certain kind of freshwater fish that abounds in that lake is caught in considerable numbers in the ocean near this town. It has been the scene of several disastrous earthquakes. On August 13th, 1868, it was almost washed away, and many of its inhabitants perished in a tidal wave which came without warning and devastated the coast for a hundred miles. Two United States men-of-war, which were in the harbour at that time, were lifted from their anchorage by waves sixty feet high and carried inland a mile over the roofs of the town. One of the vessels, theFredonia, was dashed against a ledge of rocks and entirely destroyed, while the other, theWateree, was left lying in the sand. Everyone on the former boat was lost and about half of the latter. For many years the boat lying on the sand was used as a boarding house for the railway employees.

THE HARBOUR OF ARICA.

On June 7th, 1880, Arica was the scene of a furious battle and a terrible massacre. At one end of the town, and directly on the sea front, is a promontory, which rises six hundred feet above the sea almost precipitously. On this rock, which is known as the Morro, the Peruvians had erected a powerful battery to defend the harbour. The Chileans, however,landed a force of four thousand men several miles below at night. In the morning the Peruvians found themselves attacked in the rear with no means of escape. As their guns were pointed to the sea they were useless to defend against those back on the landward side. Although short of small arms and ammunition, the Peruvians made a heroic defence and engaged in a hand-to-hand contest that lasted for an hour. At the end of that time the commander leaped over the precipice into the sea, and his body was crushed to a pulp among the rocks. Several hundred of his soldiers followed him, preferring to die that way to having their throats cut by the Chileans. For months afterward their bodies could be seen lying where they had lodged on the jutting rocks below. It is claimed that seventeen hundred Peruvians were killed, as this was the total strength of the garrison and no prisoners were taken. On a slab near the slope of the rock is an inscription in whitewashed stone, “Viva Battalion No. 4.” It was placed there by the victorious Chileans to commemorate the heroism of the enemy.

Arica is in the province of Tacna, which is the most northerly province in the republic,and is about the size of New Jersey. Agriculture in this province is very limited, and there has not been much of mineral development. There are some veins of copper and lead, and some scattered deposits of nitrate as well that have not been worked. A railroad from Arica runs back to the city of Tacna, the capital, which is one of the oldest railroads in South America. It is quite an important town, and is situated in a valley made fertile by irrigation. A railroad is now being built across the Cordilleras from this city to connect with the Bolivian railways. When that is completed it is believed that this line will be the best one, as it is the shortest, and every traveller is anxious to escape as much of the dust in crossing the desert region as possible. It is only a little over three hundred miles from Arica to La Paz. This road will add to the importance of Arica, for it will be one of the main arteries of commerce from Bolivia to the outside world, but it is not likely to help Tacna any in its growth.

The next province adjoining Tacna is Tarapacá, which is one of the wealthiest sections in the Americas because of its nitrate deposits. It contains the richest nitrate region in theworld. From Arica the cliffs rise up almost perpendicularly from the sea for the first day’s journey. Pisagua, the first port as you travel “up” the coast, is a city of about five thousand. This port does not differ much from a mining town in the States. Although considerable shipping is done here, Pisagua fades in importance beside its more important rivals.

“We do not want rain in Iquique.”

This statement was made to me by the manager of the nitrate trust, who lives in that prosperous city of thirty thousand or more inhabitants, and which is one hundred and eleven miles south of Arica. It was the first time I had ever heard of a community that did not desire rainfall. Water used to be brought by boat from more favoured regions, and was peddled through the streets at so much a quart or gallon. At times it is said to have sold as high as two dollars per gallon. A pipe line one hundred and fifty miles long now supplies this necessary liquid to this city, and it is sold by the metre instead of being put up in pint or quart bottles.

A walk through this city on the edge of the sea, with bare, brown and rugged hills for a background, showed not a blade of grass, excepton the public squares and in a few diminutive courtyards within the houses, where the hand of man supplied the necessary water for growth. It is little wonder that lawn-mowers are a drug on the market in Iquique. The sun is fierce, and its unrelenting rays, absorbed and reflected by the vast area of desert waste, inflame the air to almost furnace heat. The streets are dusty and the fine particles get into your ears and nostrils, and you can almost taste it on your tongue. Many of the houses have a piazza on top, or a second roof, to break the force of the sun’s rays. The Arturo Prat Square has been made quite attractive, and is ornamented with a very creditable statue of that hero. Business around the shipping quarters is always lively, as it is bound to be where such an enormous export and import trade is carried on. In 1891, during the revolutionary fighting between the Balmacedists and Congressists, the custom house was the scene of a stubborn battle. The town was set on fire and confusion and disorder reigned supreme. At the present time Iquique is an important port and more than one thousand vessels enter it each year.

The dreariness and unattractiveness of thesurroundings is hard to describe. Street cars with girls as conductors, good stores, the telephone and other modern conveniences, and even comfortable clubs do not make up for the lack of green vegetation. The groceries are filled with condensed milk from England, sardines from France, sausages from Germany, cheese from Holland, jellies and jam from Britain, and macaroni from Italy. But fresh vegetables and meats are at a premium, and unnatural tastes are developed. Many English live in Iquique. They are great brandy drinkers, and show discrimination “in not exhausting the wealth of the nitrate beds by taking too much soda in their brandy,” as one writer says. Nevertheless the people are happy, for wealth lies at their very doors and rain would cause great loss. By reason of this Iquique has grown until it is second only to Valparaiso in commercial importance. It has grown with a swiftness than can only be compared with our own western towns. In the first days of the saltpetre era nothing went slow and the town spread like magic. Much of the population is a rough one and hard to govern, but the authorities have done well. The battles that have been fought with fortunein Iquique and on this coast have cost many lives and much privation. A few have acquired fortune, but more have not even obtained a modest competence in return for the deprivation and sacrifice endured. Whatever has been gained at the cost of much labour and privation has been fully earned by some one—and perhaps by one who did not reap the reward.

A STREET SCENE, ANTOFAGASTA.

The province of Antofagasta joins that of Tarapacá on the south. Tocopilla is the first port of importance, but Antofagasta, a little over two hundred miles from Iquique, is the principal city. This province is a desert in appearance similar to the other, and this city can boast no advantages over its more northerly rival. Antofagasta is almost on the Tropic of Capricorn, and is in about the same latitude as Rio de Janeiro, on the Atlantic coast. It lies almost at the foot of some hills that are quite high, and is a city of about twenty thousand. The dull-coloured houses can scarcely be distinguished from the sombre hills at a distance. The dust is anything but pleasant. A great deal of nitrate and some copper are shipped from Antofagasta. There are several small wharves, but everything hasto be transferred to lighters. The harbour is a wretched roadstead and, to get ashore, one has to brave a lashing surf. The pride of the city is a little plaza, where considerable coaxing has caused a little evidence of green from the grass and a few trees. A narrow gauge railroad, two feet and six inches in width, runs from here to La Paz, and a great deal of freight is transshipped to Bolivian towns.

The province of Atacama comes next, which does not differ much in physical characteristics from the three previously named. In some of the valleys, where water can be secured for irrigation, a little agriculture is attempted. There are also a number of minerals to be found, but not so much as in Tarapacá and Antofagasta. Caldera, the principal port, is two hundred and seven miles from Antofagasta, and has a well sheltered bay. The oldest railroad in South America connects this port with Copiapó, the capital of the province. This city is situated in a fertile valley on the banks of a river of the same name. It is an old and quite important town, and has a number of educational institutions. It will soon be connected with Santiago by the longitudinal railway.

The last of the northern provinces is that of Coquimbo. This province is really at the end of the dry zone, and there are a number of rich valleys where the land is fertile and agriculture flourishes. It is a mining province as well, and a great deal of mineral wealth has been discovered. Guayacan is a port, but the principal port is Coquimbo, which is only a couple of hundred miles from Valparaiso. It has a population of probably ten thousand. The city extends along the bay in an irregular manner for some distance. The capital of the province is La Serena, and it is only a few miles from Coquimbo. There is nothing especially in its favour, although an attractive little city, but it is a relief from the dreary places farther north which have been mentioned.

COQUIMBO, A TYPICAL WEST COAST TOWN.

Every one going this way is bound for Valparaiso. The voyager, who has journeyed twenty-six hundred miles along the Pacific coast, hails with delight the beautiful half-moon bay in which that city is located. He welcomes the splash of the anchor, which means a speedy transfer to the shore and the comforts of a good hotel. Many disasters have been recorded in this bay. In the winter terrific storms arise, and steamers oftentimes lifttheir anchors and steam out into the open sea for safety. The largest steamers are tossed about like eggshells, while the buoys bob around like water-sprites. The enthusiastic Chilean loves to compare it with the Bay of Naples. But it is not Naples. The waters are not so blue, nor the skies as perfect, but it has a charm all its own. A row boat or launch quickly transfers the traveller to the landing steps, and courteous officials promptly pass the baggage. Then a short ride in a rickety carriage, and the doors of the Royal Hotel hospitably open to receive the guests.

Val-paraiso means the “Vale of Paradise,” and it is the name of both a province and a city. The name is so incongruous on this unattractive shore as to cause a smile, for the location of Valparaiso does not merit any such appellation. It was so named after a little town in Spain, which was the home of Juan de Saavedra, the man who captured the Indian village located at this point in 1536. There is only a narrow strip of land between the bay and the barren hills behind it, which, in places, rise up to a thousand or fifteen hundred feet in height. At one place it is wide enough for only two streets, which are very close together. At other places this ledge creeps back farther, but nowhere does the gap between sea and hills exceed half a mile, and a part of this has been reclaimed from the sea. Through the centre of this level space runs Victoria Street, which follows the coast line the entire length of thecity and is several miles in length. It is the main commercial street, and is lined with business houses, public buildings and even private residences.

AN “ASCENSOR” IN VALPARAISO.

It used to be that all of the city was built on this narrow strip of land. Little by little, however, the city has crept up the side of the hills, and the streets rise in terraces one above the other. On the edges of the cliffs in many places the poorer classes have built for themselves dwellings of the rudest kind from all sorts of debris. Some of these are perched upon almost inaccessible rocks, and are propped up with wooden supports. On the extreme upper part of the rock has been built the real residence quarter, and many fine homes are found there. It is reached by steep and winding roads, which tire the pedestrian not used to them; but there are a dozen inclined elevators, or “ascensors,” as they are called in Valparaiso, which carry the passenger to the upper heights for a very small sum. Up the steep roadway the poor horses may be seen drawing their loads, while the drivers beat them and vociferously berate them with their tongues.

From the heights one has a magnificent viewof the bay, which is like a half-moon, and is one of the prettiest bays in the world. It has a northern exposure, however, and is subject to terrific storms in the winter season, which lash the seas into a fury and the waves beat upon the sea front with destructive force. It is still to all extents and purposes an open roadstead, although plans have been drawn for a breakwater to provide a sheltered harbour. The drawback has been that the bay is very deep only a short distance from shore, and the problem of building such a protection is a difficult one. The surface of the bay is always dotted with vessels from almost every quarter of the globe. One can at any time see the flags of a half dozen or more different nations floating from the mastheads. Then there are hundreds of small lighters which are used to carry the freight between vessel and shore, as no docks have been constructed at which vessels can unload. In the far distance may be seen, on a clear day, the backbone of the continent, the Andes, with its serrated ridges and snowy summits glistening in the sunlight. The hoary head of Aconcagua, the highest peak of the Cordilleras, can easily be distinguished from the others by reason of its superior height.

Next to San Francisco, Valparaiso is the most important port on the eastern shores of the Pacific. This city of two hundred thousand has as much commerce as the average town of double that size, as it is the port for Santiago and the greater part of Chile. A business-like character is impressed upon the entire city. Here live the men who design and carry out the vast nitrate and mining enterprises of northern Chile, and practically all business, except that of politics, is managed from this city. The docks and warehouses are at all times busy places, and are crowded with boxes and bales from almost every commercial nation. Banditti-likerotosdrive carts and wagons filled with merchandise. One of the first sights after being set down on the landing-stage is the two-wheeled dray of Valparaiso. It is drawn by two or three wiry and sweating horses, on the back of one of which rides the driver, who lashes the horses unmercifully. The ridden horse is hitched by a trace just outside the shafts, and he is trained to push at the shaft with his shoulder, or pull at right angles when the occasion arises, and in every way is as clever as any Texas bronco. One of these drays with the driver lashing his teammight well figure on the escutcheon of this city.

The “U. S.” mark is less frequently seen in Valparaiso than that of Hamburg or London, for the United States has not become such an exporting country of manufactured products as those commercial nations of the older world; nor is the Yankee in flesh and blood. The predominance of the British is shown by the prevalence of the English language. Nearly every one engaged in business has at least a slight acquaintance with that tongue. One can not go far without crossing the path of some ruddy Briton or voluble Irishman. Many of the best stores bear English names, and one will see the same goods displayed as in New York or London. In fact it is more predominantly English in appearance than any other city of South America. There are cafés where they meet to drink their “half-and-half” or other beverages, and there is a club where theTimes,Punch, and other favourites can be read. It is said that the foreign population almost equals the native in numbers. Only a small part of this foreign element is English, as there are many Italians, Germans and French, but the English are the bankers and tradesmen,and have impressed their characteristics more forcibly upon the city than the other nations. There are amusements in plenty, for there are clubs, concerts and an abundance of theatres to provide recreation as a relaxation from the strenuous life. There are tennis grounds, football fields and a golf course at Viña. There are many monuments over the city in the plazas and on the new alameda, erected to the nation’s heroes, and one to William Wheelwright, the American who did so much to aid Chile in developing her transportation facilities. The naval school, which crowns one of the hills, is one of the most attractive places in Valparaiso, and provides one of the finest views of the bay and surrounding hills.

“One of the great advantages of life in Valparaiso,” says Arthur Ruhl in “The Other Americans,” “is the absence of a professional fire department. The glorious privilege of fighting fires is appropriated by theélite, who organize themselves into clubs, with much the same social functions as the Seventh Regiment and Squadron A in New York, wear ponderous helmets and march in procession in great style whenever they get a chance. One comes upon thesebomberospractising in the evening, onthe Avenida, for instance, in store clothes and absent-mindedly puffing cigarettes, getting a stream on an imaginary blaze. In any emergency they perform much the same duties as our militia.

“It is the delightful privilege of thebomberoto drop his work whenever the alarm is given, dash from his office to the blaze, and there man hose-lines, smash windows, chop down partitions, and indulge to the fullest one of the keenest primordial emotions of man. Inasmuch as buildings are seldom more than two or three stories in height and built of masonry, there is comparatively little danger of a large conflagration, and the average of one fire in four days is ‘just about right,’ as one of my Valparaiso acquaintances explained, ‘to give a man exercise.’ Their only unhappiness, he said, was that there were about fifteen hundred firemen in town, and they were getting so expert that what one could call a really ‘good’ fire was almost unknown.”

Like its commercial rival, San Francisco, Valparaiso suffered from a destructive earthquake in 1906. Slight quakes are quite common in this city, but the inhabitants do not seem to fear them, and go along the even tenorof their way as though such a thing as an earthquake was unknown. In one year as many as thirty-five shocks have been recorded, but the one mentioned above is the only one for a half century or more in which any lives were lost. In fact Valparaiso has had its full share of troubles and vicissitudes of all kinds. It was captured and sacked three times by buccaneers, twice by the British and once by a Dutch pirate. It has suffered severely from earthquake shocks on half a dozen different occasions, was destroyed by fire in 1858, bombarded by the Spanish fleet in 1866, and much property was destroyed in the Balmaceda revolution a little later. Few cities in the New World have had a career so troubled and diversified.

The most disastrous experience in the history of Valparaiso occurred in 1906. On the 16th of August of that year, only four months after the destruction of San Francisco, the greater part of the city was destroyed by an earthquake and the fire that followed. The day had been unusually calm and pleasant. About eight o’clock in the evening the first earthquake shock was felt, which was almost immediately followed by others. The whole cityseemed to swing backward and forwards; then came a sudden jolt, and whole rows of buildings fell with a terrific crash. The electric light wires snapped, and gas and water mains were broken. The city was left in intense darkness, which was rendered all the more horrible by the shrieks of the injured and terrified inhabitants. Fires soon started which, fanned by a strong wind, soon became conflagrations. Between the fires and earthquake a large proportion of the lower town was completely destroyed, but the upper town was practically uninjured. Many of the better-built business houses withstood the earth’s tremblings, and the wind blew the flames in the opposite direction.

The authorities acted promptly in the matter, so that patrols of troops and armed citizens were soon on guard. The progress of the fire was impeded by the use of dynamite. Appeals for help were sent to Santiago and other cities, which were responded to as promptly as possible. There was necessarily some delay, for telegraph lines and the railroads had likewise suffered. The shocks continued for the two following days at irregular intervals, which likewise interfered with the work ofcleaning up the city. A terrific downpour of rain also added to the confusion of the first night, for the vivid flashes of lightning and the clanging of the fire-bells made it a night not easily forgotten by the inhabitants. The killed and injured numbered at least three thousand persons. But fifty thousand or more were rendered homeless. Thousands of these were camped on the barren hills above the city, and thousands more were cared for by boats in the bay.

Strangely enough no damage was done to the shipping in the bay. The destruction was not confined to Valparaiso alone, but extended inland as far as Los Andes, and many of the small inland cities near Valparaiso suffered more or less damage. The property loss in Valparaiso has been estimated at one hundred million dollars. Like San Francisco, however, a new Valparaiso is arising which will be superior to the old. The greater part of the destroyed district has been rebuilt in a better and more enduring manner. The national government has advanced large sums of money to the municipality, which, in turn, has given it under certain conditions to those who suffered losses. To-day in the business section of Valparaisoit would be almost impossible, after only five years, to find evidence of this disastrous earthquake, but a little farther out its handiwork can quickly be traced.

There is a quaint side to life in Valparaiso. A visit to the market reveals many things of interest. One will first be impressed by the fine fruits of Chile, for nowhere in the world can one find more delicious pears, peaches and plums. The marketers bring their produce in huge two-wheeled carts drawn by the slow-moving ox. The stalls presided over by men and women fill every available inch of space, until it is almost impossible to force one’s way through. Everywhere are groups bargaining over fruits, vegetables or household articles, for these people dearly love a bargain. Many show by their faces a tinge of the Indian blood that runs in their veins.

A CHICKEN PEDDLER, VALPARAISO.

The peripatetic merchants, who carry supplies from door to door, come to the market for their stock in trade. It is invariably carried on the back of a donkey or mule, as it is difficult to draw a loaded wagon up the steep ascents. Their quaint cries may be heard in almost any part of the city during the morning hours. As a rule this merchant carries onlyone article, or possibly two or three, if it is vegetables. The chicken peddler has built little coops for his birds which take the place of a saddle. It is interesting to watch him gesticulate and praise the excellence of his fowls to the good housewife, or the servant who comes out in answer to his warning cry. The scissors-grinder and dealers in notions swell the list of perigrinating business men who make the streets vocal with their calls. The milkman carries the milk in cans swung over the back of his mule or donkey, or else drives the cows themselves from door to door.

“Leche de las burras y vacas,” meaning donkey’s and cow’s milk, was the cry that reached my ears one morning in Valparaiso. On looking around I saw a man leading two donkey mares and three cows through the streets. Each donkey mare was closely followed by its pretty but comical little colt. This is a custom imported from Spain and Italy, where goats are also taken from door to door and oftentimes up three or four flights of stairs to be milked. It might even be possible to find a milkman with donkeys, cows and goats in his collection, so that a regular department store variety of milk could be provided hiscustomers. Add to these the camel and reindeer, and you have the sources of the world’s milk supply. Donkey’s milk is used a great deal for babies in South America, as it is considered better for them than the milk of either cows or goats. Milk delivered in this way does not need a sterilized label upon it, or a certificate from the department of health. Furthermore, there is very little danger of adulteration. The housekeeper reaps the benefit of this style of milk delivery, but it must be a slow and costly method for the dairyman. It is another evidence that primitiveness has not entirely disappeared from Chile.

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