"I found the markets not unlike those of Lima. The products of two zones are attainable in this Andean situation, though there are fewer tropical fruits and vegetables than in the capital of Peru. There are strawberries, grapes, figs, peaches, pears, quinces, apples, nectarines, cherries, apricots, plums, oranges, lemons, citrons, and chirimoyas--the latter far inferior to those of Lima. The fruits mostly in demand and largely consumed are water-melons and musk-melons; both are delicious, and grow to a great size, and they are as cheap as they are good. "But I fear I shall weary you with this description of the city, and, besides, I must be moving to Valparaiso to meet the steamer bringing Dr. Bronson and Fred. The time-table says the voyage occupies twelve days; it is now ten days since I saw them leave Buenos Ayres, and to-morrow will be the eleventh day. To-morrow I will go to Valparaiso by the railway; it is a ride of four hours, or perhaps five, if the train is not in a hurry, and then I can get everything in readiness to welcome them to the soil of Chili." Frank went by the train the next morning, and soon after noon he arrived at the seaport. He found a bustling, active city, with a population of more than one hundred thousand, of whom less than three fourths were native Chilians. According to the statistics Valparaiso contains 15,000 German inhabitants, 7000 British, 4000 French, 2000 Italians, and 500 Americans, and a great deal more than half its commerce is in foreign hands. The city is on a bay which opens towards the north so capaciously that it was formerly swept by all winds from between north-northeast and west-northwest; ships anchored with springs on their cables, and were ready to put to sea at any moment to avoid the chance of being driven on shore. A mole, which was incomplete at the time of Frank's visit, gives more security, and when finished will make a fairly good harbor for Valparaiso. The name of the city indicates "Vale of Paradise," but Frank was unable to see where the appearances justified such a pleasing title. The bay is bordered by rugged hills, that, for more than half of the distance around the semicircular beach, leave only room enough for a single row of houses near the water. The fronts of some of these hills are so steep that you may almost step to them from the back windows of the upper stories of the dwellings. Facing the other half of the bay is a triangular plain of sand, formed by the _débris_ of the streams flowing from the hills, and the washings of the surf on the shore. The city is built on this sand, along the narrow beach, and up the sides and over the tops of the hills. It forcibly suggests a struggle for position where nature is in a repellent mood.