th firmly clenched. As they often lie side by side, this difference
is striking. Whence it arises, it is difficult to say; but it would
seem to denote, that the sufferings of the mule are more intense, and
its tenacity of life greater, than those of the horse.

After traversing a distance of twenty-seven leagues, we arrive at the
river. Travellers who are inured to fatigue, always make the journey
in one ride. Dr Ried accomplished the whole distance without once
dismounting. The stream is called Loa, and has its source in the snows
of the mountain-tops. In the neighbourhood of a small Indian village
called Chiuchiu, it is fed by a little volcanic stream, which contains
a large quantity of salt in a state of dissolution, besides copper,
arsenic, sulphur, and other matters. The quantity of the water is
increased by this supply, but its quality by no means improved; yet
the abominable mixture tastes on that spot like the choicest
champagne! The stream is not perceived till you stand on the very
edge. Its bed is between 300 and 400 yards broad, and is about 200 or
300 feet below the average surface of the table-land. The body of
water which forms this river is very inconsiderable, and becomes more
and more so as it nears the sea. Here Dr Reid saw some mosquitoes, as
well as a small lizard; but the presence of the quick, bright-eyed
creature in that dreary waste, rather added to the sense of
loneliness. Its very name, too (_Musca domestica_), seemed a mockery,
dwelling as it did in that vast solitude. In the water, no trace of
life was to be found. 'From the stream, which has its source in the
clouds,' writes Dr Ried to his friend, 'I took a bottleful, which I
send you to analyse, and in order that you may say you have seen water
from Atacama. I advise you, however, not to drink it.'

In the desert, it _never_ rains. At the foot of the Cordilleras--and
only at the foot--rain falls to a distance of about ten leagues
westward, but _never_ further; in Atacama, to a distance of about ten
leagues from the mountains; in Chili, to far beyond the coast.
Perhaps, however, the most extraordinary phenomenon of this strange
land, is the sudden change of temperature which takes place over the
whole desert. The heat at noon is oppressive--from 96 to 120 degrees
Fahrenheit; and this continues till four P.M., when it begins to
diminish. From ten A.M. till about sunset, there is a strong westerly
wind, blowing from the sea towards the Cordi