rains, and it was only by the aid of a rope that we made the passage.
One stout Indian was carried down stream, but soon recovered himself.

[Footnote 114: Humboldt speaks of this as an active volcano, "from which
detonations are heard almost daily." We heard nothing. It is possible
that he meant Guamani.]

As we had lowered our altitude since leaving Papallacta seven thousand
feet, the climate was much warmer, and vegetation more prolific. Nowhere
else between the Andes and the Atlantic did we notice such a majestic
forest. The tree-ferns, ennobled by the tropical sun and soil, have a
palm-like appearance, but with rougher stems and a usual height of fifty
feet. Plants akin to our "scouring rush" rise twenty-five feet. We saw
to-day the "water tree," or _huadhuas_ of the natives, a kind of bamboo,
which sometimes yields between the joints two quarts of clear,
taste-less water. Late in the evening we reached an old rancho called
_Curi-urcu_ ("the mountain of gold"); but we had traveled so far ahead
of our cargo-train we did not see it again till the next morning. We
were obliged, therefore, to sleep on the ground in our wet clothes, and
put up with hard commons--half parched corn, which our Indian guides
gave us, and unleavened cakes or flour-paste baked on the coals. Thence,
after a short day's journey of ten miles, we arrived at Archidona, by a
path, however, that was slippery with a soft yellow clay. We were a
sorry-looking company, soaked by incessant rains, exhausted by
perspiration, plastered with mud, tattered, and torn; but we were kindly
met by the Jesuit bishop, who took us to his own habitation, where one
Indian washed our feet, and another prepared a most refreshing drink of
_guayusa_ tea. We then took up our quarters at the Government House,
opposite the bishop's, sojourning several days on account of our swollen
feet, and also on account of a swollen river which ran between us and
the Napo. Here we made a valuable collection of birds, lizards, fishes,
and butterflies.

Archidona is situated in a beautiful plain on the high northern bank of
the Misagualli, two thousand feet above the Atlantic. The site is a
cleared spot in the heart of an almost boundless forest; and it was a
relief, not easily conceived, to emerge from beneath the dense leafy
canopy into this open space and look up to the sky and to the snowy
Andes. The climate is uniform and delightful, the mean annual
temperature being seventy-seven