We engaged two caleches, rattle-trap vehicles, like gigs with hoods, to carry us to Santiago, the capital of Chili. One horse was in the shafts; another on the left side was ridden by a postilion on a high-peaked saddle, with a long knife at the saddle-bow; he being dressed with a straw hat over a silk handkerchief tied round his head and the ends hanging down behind, a short jacket, coarse pantaloons, high boots, huge spurs, and a poncho hanging over one shoulder. Jerry and Mr McRitchie went together, Fleming accompanied me, and we had old Surley, who sat up between our legs, looking sagaciously out before him. Away we rattled. The road was much better than we had expected to find it in a place so far away from England as this seemed. My idea was, that once round Cape Horn, we should not see anything but painted savages or long-tailed Chinese; and I was quite surprised to find good roads and carriages in Chili. We slept two nights on the road; admired Santiago, which is full of laughing gas, the air is so fine; it stands 1700 feet above the level of the sea. Then we started off on horseback towards the Cordilleras, to a spot called the Snow Bank, whence Santiago is regularly supplied with snow all the year round. At the capital we fell in with an English sailor, Tom Carver by name, who had served with Fleming under Lord Cochrane, and having married a Chilian wife, had settled in the country. He came as our interpreter, for without him a guide we procured would have been of very little service. Leaving our horses at a small rancho, or farm-house, we set off with our guns, Fleming and the guide carrying most of the provisions, though we each of us had a share. The scenery was wild and grand in the extreme, consisting of the snow-capped peaks of the Andes, of rugged heights, and of dark glens and gorges, with precipices which went sheer down many hundred feet below us. We had not gone far before we came to a suspension bridge made of hides, cut into strips and twisted together, thrown across a fearful gorge. Bundles of sticks placed on the ropes form the road. It was full of holes, and as I looked through, far down into the torrent foaming below, I could not help feeling how very disagreeable it would be to slip through. Surley followed at my heels, and even he did not like it. We now reached a wide valley, on the sides of which, far up on the mountains, we descried a number of animals, which Jerry and I concluded, without doubt, were the much-desired guanacoes. Mr McRitchie, with Simmons, the sailor, and the guide, were ahead; Fleming was with us; so we agreed, as we could not fail of being seen by our companions, we would climb the mountain in chase of the game. Up, up we climbed, old Surley after us. He seemed to think it very good fun; but Fleming, not accustomed to such exercise, was soon blown. "Come along, Fleming," cried Jerry; "we shall soon be up to the beasts; don't give in, man."