a few feet down, the actual railway track over which they have passed an hour before.  At one place there are actually three tracks visible, one right below the other, just like steps and stairs, and I believe there is nothing quite like it in Argentina.  Leaving Crucero Alto the descent is very gradual until Puno is reached, on the shore of Lake Titicaca, but still at an altitude of 12,000 feet or more.  I did not actually see the town, which is a short distance from the station, but went straight on board the “Coya,” the steamer which was to ferry us across to Chililaya or Puerto Perez, on the Bolivian side of the immense lake.[F] The distance in this direction is about 110 miles, and the passage was made in ten hours, during the night, so that I had not on this occasion an opportunity of seeing the surrounding scenery.

On another occasion I saw too much of it, as the steamer missed the canalized strip which extends several miles out from Puno, and we remained hard aground for thirty hours.  We had over a hundred Japanese passengers—­immigrants going to the rubber country—­and all armed with huge revolvers; but as the food lasted out until we were relieved by another small steamer belonging to the railway company they were kept in good humour, and they gave no trouble at all.  Before floating again about 100 tons of cargo had to be transhipped to the other steamer, and when we again got into the deep channel it was again transferred to the s.s.  “Coya.”  This latter boat was about 150 feet long; it was quite a comfortable boat, and the food and bedding were decent, when you consider the part of the world you were in.  The bill of fare and wine list contained many quaint delicacies, and I shall never forget how the printer of same spelt the word indicating Scotch wine (commonly known as whisky).  He was quite phonetic from the Spanish point of view, and the word read “Gueiscki,” but it tasted all right.

Landing at the Bolivian side of Puerto Perez, the immense plateau which covers all the centre of Bolivia stretches out on all sides landwards, until it meets the inner and higher range of the Cordilleras.

La Paz, the then capital of Bolivia, on account of the fact that the President, General Pando, lived there, was our next objective point, and we found the old “Diligence Coach,” drawn by eight horses, awaiting to convey us the forty-two miles across the plain.  This part of the journey is most uninteresting, and the road was only fair.  All along it is the same level, stony ground, entirely devoid of trees, and covered completely with large, round stones.  These latter the Indians have to gather in heaps, and thus make some open patches for growing their potatoes and grain, which, with their “Chalona,” or sheep dried in the sun, are their principal foodstuffs throughout the year.  Besides, the surplus produce is conveyed to the larger towns on llamas, and there realised to the best advantage.  It is a very interesting sight every Sunday morning