One thousand feet above our heads, as it seemed, we could see Llane, another of these quaint, Indian hamlets, but the appearance of the exceedingly precipitate track up to it did not excite us in any desire to make the ascent. After partaking of some food, we got under our blankets in the usual way at sunset to once more sleep the sleep of the contented traveller. By 6.15 next morning we were again in the saddle and under way--the road was now even narrower than before, about two feet wide only--winding round and round the mountain side, ascending all the time, and in some parts far too steep for comfortable riding. From now onwards the journey was over tracks, not roads, and many of the ascents and descents were so steep that it was quite out of the question to attempt to negotiate them on muleback. We, accordingly, with philosophic patience had just to accept the inevitable, and get off and lead our animals over these now really dangerous parts. Some of the precipices down to the river bed were now much deeper, and had we slid over, we might have experienced considerable inconvenience at the bottom, and a greater difficulty in getting up again. The roads became worse and worse, and really they could be given no other name than "goat-tracks," but the mule is a wonderful beast, and let him have his head (on no account attempt to guide him), there is not much fear of any serious trouble. Our sleeping place for the night was to be at an old ruin of a house at a bare, but more level, opening in the mountains, called Tolapampa, and before reaching this we had to negotiate much the worst pass on the whole route. This is called the "tornillo" (screw), and it is a real corkscrew path, cut out of the mountain side at an angle of about 50 deg., and about 450 feet of a climb. Riding was of course impossible, and we scrambled more than walked until we safely got over the top, very tired and puffed out. The mules with their cargo followed our example, and it was wonderful to see how they kept their feet; as one false step might have sent them to the bottom, carrying everything behind them too, and on more than one occasion this has happened, the animals falling, generally being killed outright in the fall. Pushing on as fast as possible, it was not till 4 o'clock p.m. that our residence for the night loomed in view, and it did not inspire one that it could supply much in the way of home comforts. Sure, the old hovel had walls and a roof, but beyond that there were no windows, and where the door ought to have been there was only a hole in the wall, but nothing to close it with to keep out the intense cold.