The road led to the north, and lay at a distance of sixty or seventy miles from the ocean. For the most part we travelled over a wavy table-land, nearly a thousand feet above the level of the sea. On our right, lay the mighty range of the Andes; on our left, the almost boundless Pacific. The country was thinly settled, there being here and there a small village; or, more frequently, the villa of some Spanish planter. The country was exceedingly fertile, and the cattle seemed as abundant as upon the prairies of Buenos Ayres. As we rode along, the grass, now in its fullest bloom, frequently concealed the pasturing herds from view, and often as we rode along, the coarse herbage seemed to form a wall on either side of the path, rising even as high as my head. Never have I seen a more lovely climate, or a more fruitful soil. Though we met with few adventures, our journey was delightful. In ten days we approached the celebrated desert of Atacama, which stretches four hundred and fifty miles along the Pacific, and forms the maritime district of the present republic of Bolivia. Upon this spot, as if it were deserted of Heaven, the rain never falls, and it is accordingly given up to everlasting blight and desolation. It is a sandy waste, and is not only destitute of vegetation, but it is said that no animal, not even a spider, a cricket, or a worm, is found throughout its vast extent. Our road, for two days, lay along the verge of this waste. It seemed marked with a peculiar aspect of solitude and desertion. No word can express the emotions which it suggested, but that of _death_. Neither life, nor motion, nor verdure were visible throughout its measureless bosom. No sound seemed to stir the atmosphere, in that region of silence. I paused as we rode over its surface; and such was the absolute void of nature--such the settled silence of the very atmosphere--that I felt oppressed, and moved forward to throw off a feeling that my heart would cease to beat in the midst of this pulseless creation. Taking leave of the desert, our course turned more to the eastward, and we began to enter a more mountainous territory. One evening, as the sun went down, we saw before us a lofty peak, covered with snow. From its top, issued a perpendicular column of dark smoke, which, at the elevation of a few hundred feet, expanded into a thin cloud. Its shape was that of a pine tree, divested of branches, except at the top.