On the opposite side of this stream is Santa Rosa; here are several houses overlooking a small wooded plain between it and the main river, where men are always employed in cutting and charring wood, which is sent to Lima, fourteen leagues distant. The disease which the natives call _Uta_, a species of cancer well known among chimney-sweeps in England, prevails in this place. We have also seen here the most severe ague, originating at the season when it rains _in the hills_ of the Cordillera (for here it never rains), and when the torrent alluded to inundates, and overspreads with large stones, sand, and slime, the flat ground near its disemboguement. Four leagues higher up than Santa Rosa is a place called Yaso, once a flourishing hacienda, with a garden where lucumas, pacays, guayavas, and sour oranges are still seen; but where, in place of a flourishing estate, there are now but a few huts of cane and hurdles, partially bedaubed with mud, and furnished with open corridors, under which the muleteers and travellers stretch themselves to sleep: but as lucern is scarce, and as there is no natural pasture, few choose to pass the night here; though many call for a glass of _chicha_, or country beer made from maize, to quench their thirst while resting here at noon, when the sun is reflected powerfully from the towering and naked hills around. The river water being always turbid in time of inland rains, the traveller is tempted to drink of a pure and crystalline stream that here issues from the rock; but the good-natured inmate of some wretched hut warns him of his danger, and assures him, if he drink that water, he will be seized with the severe disease called verrugas, or a painful warty eruption, peculiar to certain quebradas; and Yaso, it may be kept in mind, is one of the localities subject to this sore visitation. A couple of leagues still higher up the “quebrada,” or glen, is the resting-place—Huaramayo; a little green spot, with a few neat huts surrounded with plots of lucern, and many rugged fragments from the neighbouring steeps. We observed that one of these humble dwellings, made of mud, cane, and wicker, was thatched with a sort of living lichen; a simple style of architecture, which of itself tells us that here the climate is still dry and warm, and the place sheltered from rude winds or storms. We have seen the cottager, who occupied the hut immediately at the foot of the arduous ascent which here commences, look with indescribable complacency as we, from his little corridor, gazed up in admiration at beholding the rain pour in torrents a few hundred yards above us, while his own snug retreat was hardly reached by a gentle sprinkling, which a Limenian would call “_agua bendita_,” or holy water, which imparted softness and salubrity to the air, and gave longevity to the aged inmate of the cottage.