When I crossed the Andes it was just a few weeks before the tunnel was opened to traffic. In early days this intervening distance between railhead was covered on foot or in the saddle. Later came the broad, white-covered four-horse coaches which conveyed our party. Five hundred horses and mules, many carriages and baggage wagons and a considerable force of men were maintained for this service. Four times the air-line distance is covered in reaching the highest point on either side. Extra riders with a hitch rope to assist a stalled vehicle follow the carriages. The manager, who was an American, and his guards, took short cuts and appeared in the most unexpected places. Scrambling, twisting and turning, the cavalcade mounted higher and higher, and the air became so cold that a heavy wrap felt comfortable. The air was wonderfully clear, and the distant mountain peaks were clearly outlined against the turquoise blue of the heavens. As the long line of carriages winding their way up the zigzag trail neared the summit, a sharp turn in the road suddenly revealed a striking statue outlined against the sky, and a feeling almost of awe fell upon us. While the carriages were stopped for the driver to examine the harness preparatory to the descent, the passengers gazed in silent admiration upon this monument. Lofty peaks lifted up their weird masses of black basaltic rock and dazzling snow into the clear blue of the Andean sky, among which were Aconcagua and Tupungato, which were clearly visible if one had a sharp and quick eye. “Sooner shall these mountains crumble into dust than the people of Argentina and Chile break the peace to which they have pledged themselves at the feet of Christ the Redeemer.” [Illustration: “THE CHRIST OF THE ANDES”]