We were not travelling fast. The line was gradually rising, and the engine was giving off sounds as though it were suffering from asthma. We got into country--wild, moorlike, and broken with many streams--which reminded some of us of parts of Scotland. We struck into what had looked like a black defile, through which the river came racing, and on either side of us rose gaunt rocks, black and brown, which suggested that a terrific fire had once raged. No snow was in sight--nothing but fierce, repellent crags. Suddenly we came upon an upland valley with a wide stretch of grass, a straggling village, and a big hotel--just the sort of hotel you are constantly bumping into in the Swiss mountains. The passing of the train for Chili is probably the one excitement. The Italian folk gathered about the little station and gazed with curious eyes at the passengers. Years ago I went down Kicking Horse Pass, in the Canadian Rockies, with a seat on the "cow-catcher." It was now my good fortune to ride on the "cow-catcher" of this train bound for Valparaiso. As luck would have it, I met an American and his wife whose acquaintance I had made on the Atlantic, and to whom I had bidden "good-bye" at Rio de Janeiro. They were now returning to the United States by way of Chili, and, being of an adventurous turn of mind, they, too, were eager to enjoy a ride on the front of the engine. Over the "cow-catcher" a seat was fixed, with a brass rail in front so that there was little danger of falling off. We knew how cold it would be later, and so we put on our heaviest coats and wrapped ourselves in our thickest rugs. We were "in the front row" to obtain a view. The way was now increasingly steep. It was necessary to have two engines, one in front to pull and one behind to push. Slowly we grunted on our way. There was a chill ping in the air which made our cheeks smart. We kept close to the river, as though it were a guide that we did not intend to allow to forsake us. Sometimes we ran not far above the level of the scouring waters. At other times we seemed to be running along a high-perched ledge on the rock side, so that when the engine gave a sudden swerve round the elbow of a hill there was one traveller who shut his eyes when he thought what might happen if the engine had suddenly taken it into its head to make a leap into the abyss. The hills closed in. They towered above us so that there was the sense of going through a long gully. At every turn the engine shrieked, and the echoes reverberated amongst the mountains. Now and then we came upon gangmen engaged in the repair of the line. They jumped aside whilst the train trundled by.