silver in quaint shapes, and ornaments
made by the Indians themselves can be picked up very cheaply. The
dresses of the Indian squaws are also very picturesque, and, as far as I
can remember, red, green, and bright yellow were the dominating colours.
But I am getting away from the main subject.

Right ahead of us there is the gigantic Illimani, silent and majestic,
with its perpetually white crown rising 22,000 feet above sea-level. One
begins to wonder where La Paz can be, as the plain seems to extend right
to the foot of the mountain. Keeping steadily on, however, the coach
eventually arrives at the brink of a hitherto unnoticed hollow, and the
scene that here awaits the traveller is magnificent in the extreme. To
describe the view baffles my limited vocabulary. There you are looking
down on the roofs of the houses in La Paz, which lies snugly 1,200 feet
below you. It just seems that you could drop a stone on to them, so
precipitate are the cliffs; but it is the enormous drop that deceives
the eye, because, of the route over which the coach passes, six miles
have yet to be traversed before getting into the town. I have seen La
Paz from the top of the "Cuesta" both by day and night, and the latter
effect, while losing much of its grandeur and magnificence, on account
of the darkness, almost surpasses in beauty that of the daylight vision.
The whole city is lit up by electricity, and it just seems as if one
were gazing _down_ on another firmament, if such a thing can be
imagined. I repeat, that to fully appreciate this special scenery words
fail me.

Allow me to transgress once more. On the first occasion that I reached
the top of the entrance to La Paz it was under rather "sporting"
circumstances, which, I think, I may be excused for interpolating here.
I had come on horseback and _alone_ from the mining town of Coro Coro,
sixty-six miles off, and it is a very hard and tiring journey. The
elevation above the sea varies from about 14,000 feet to 12,000 feet at
the La Paz end, and therefore great speed is impossible on account of
the rarity of the air. Apparently I had journeyed too fast for my horse,
as the poor animal died when I was still eighteen miles from La Paz.
Here was a nice "kettle of fish." It was all right enough as long as
daylight lasted, but when darkness overtook me I was fairly "in the
soup." Not knowing the road, and there being nothing to guide me and no
one to consult, I simply walked along slowly,