ore to my friend's influence. For a change we did not sleep
on the floor, and by way of recreation I scented out a billiard table,
not a good one, it is true, and the balls were rather elliptical; but as
I had once personated the "Mikado," _a la Gilbert & Sullivan_, the
conditions were not so disconcerting as they would doubtless have been
to a less famous personage! Sorata, being the nearest town to the
Bolivian rubber districts which export their products to the Pacific
coast, is naturally of more consequence on that account, as all
materials and merchandise for the interior must pass through the hands
of the Sorata merchants, while the rubber exported to the coast also
finds its way through the medium of Sorata agents.

There is the usual plaza in the centre of the town, where the youth and
beauty disport themselves in the way peculiar to these mountainous
regions, which consists of walking round and round at a good pace to
keep up the circulation, as the weather is nearly always cold in Sorata.
Illampu, the competitor of Illimani and Aconcagua, and which claims to
be the highest peak in South America, rises up magnificently right above
and round the town, and visitors for the first time must really wonder
how they are to find a road to cross these gigantic mountains, as the
town appears to be so completely shut in.

However, on 27th May we started to ascend the track forming the way to
the interior, and got a fine send-off by the inhabitants, the more
important of whom turned out to bid us adieu and wish us luck over a
case or two of beer. The climb before us was a constant one for 18
miles, and to-day we were to pass the highest point of our entire trip.
This we reached about midday, at just under 16,000 feet. We were above
the perpetual snow-line for a short time, and it was piercingly cold,
besides we had to go slowly on account of the thin air, but we kept
steadily on and reached an old mining establishment called "El Injenio"
at 5 p.m., having done 24 miles in all since morning. There is a long,
steep descent to the old mining camp by a narrow winding track cut out
of the mountain side, and as the drop on one side to the little stream
down below was about 40 to 50 feet, and there was no protecting fence of
any kind, we decided to get off our mules, and accordingly completed the
worst part of the way on foot, and of course this made travelling very
much slower.

Apparently, gold-washing had not been carried on