We were making a little tour in a car. Most of the houses are single-storied as a provision against earthquakes, which are not infrequent in these parts. Indeed, one morning during my stay, whilst I was shaving, there was a quiver and a jolt which I thought was due to some heavily laden train passing. At breakfast I learnt there had been a respectable earthquake. Everybody tells you about the great earthquake of 1861, which completely destroyed old Mendoza. The only remaining evidences are the ruins of the cathedral. The population of the city at that time was 20,000, and I was told that half the population was killed. Then there was the agony of fire, and--with horror piled on horror, as those were lawless days--bands of miscreants began plundering and murdering the affrighted inhabitants who remained. Tremors are now frequent, and the prospect of another earthquake is like an abiding nightmare. That is why the streets are so wide, the houses nearly all of a single story, and made of a particularly light brick with a considerable admixture of cane amongst the clay, so that the structure has a springiness and does not crack when the shake comes. Really the only big and substantial buildings are the Legislature and the Palace of Justice, and they are imposing. Mendoza continually reminded me of Salt Lake City. Like the capital of the Mormon faith, it is in the lee of a mighty mountain range; there are trees bordering most of the streets, and along the main ways are innumerable rivulets. Boys are constantly employed to souse the road with water and so keep it cool. The entrance to Western Park has exquisite bronze gates. It is rather surprising, however, to see they are mounted with imperial crowns. The explanation is that they were originally made for Abdul Hamid, the deposed Sultan of Turkey. Owing to political upheaval in Turkey they were never delivered, because there was no one prepared to pay for them. Mendoza made a bid and bought them for £5,000. Broad roads through this lovely domain, leading through avenues of trees and past radiant flower gardens, make the Western Park beloved of Mendozians. There is a band-stand; and on Thursday evenings, the whole place flashing with electric light, the road is blocked with automobiles and carriages, and thousands of people listening to the music. There is a rustic chalet where people can sit and have refreshment. There is a lake nearly a mile long. Here take place boating races, and for the accommodation of the spectators there is a grand stand which can hold 3,000 persons. There is a zoological garden. There is what is called "The Lilliputian Railway," so that a tiny little train starting from a miniature station can take passengers all over the extensive park, through tropical vegetation, up tiny valleys, diving through small tunnels, giving anybody who cannot provide a private carriage an easy and cheap means of seeing the park. [Illustration: THE PROMENADE IN MENDOZA PARK.]