he shelter of his own roof. The rug
weavers are very clever in copying new patterns. Through the courtesy
of Senor Viscarra we eventually received several small rugs, woven
especially for us from monogram designs drawn by Mr. Hendriksen.

Early one morning in November we said good-bye to our friendly host,
and, directed by a picturesque old guide who said he knew the road to
Parinacochas, we left Cotahuasi. The highway crossed the neighboring
stream on a treacherous-looking bridge, the central pier of which
was built of the crudest kind of masonry piled on top of a gigantic
boulder in midstream. The main arch of the bridge consisted of two
long logs across which had been thrown a quantity of brush held down
by earth and stones. There was no rail on either side, but our mules
had crossed bridges of this type before and made little trouble. On
the northern side of the valley we rode through a compact little town
called Mungi and began to climb out of the canyon, passing hundreds
of very fine artificial terraces, at present used for crops of maize
and barley. In one place our road led us by a little waterfall,
an altogether surprising and unexpected phenomenon in this arid
region. Investigation, however, proved that it was artificial, as
well as the fields. Its presence may be due to a temporary connection
between the upper and lower levels of ancient irrigation canals.

Hour after hour our pack train painfully climbed the narrow, rocky
zigzag trail. The climate is favorable for agriculture. Wherever the
sides of the canyon were not absolutely precipitous, stone-faced
terraces and irrigation had transformed them long ago into arable
fields. Four thousand feet above the valley floor we came to a very
fine series of beautiful terraces. On a shelf near the top of the
canyon we pitched our tent near some rough stone corrals used by
shepherds whose flocks grazed on the lofty plateau beyond, and near
a tiny brook, which was partly frozen over the next morning. Our
camp was at an elevation of 14,500 feet above the sea. Near by were
turreted rocks, curious results of wind-and-sand erosion.

The next day we entered a region of mountain pastures. We passed
occasional swamps and little pools of snow water. From one of these
we turned and looked back across the great Cotahuasi Canyon, to the
glaciers of Solimana and snow-clad Coropuna, now growing fainter
and fainter as we went toward Parinacochas. At an altitude of 16,500
feet we