In the morning we followed the left bank of the Campucana for some time, scaling successfully on the way the famous "Carniceria,"[32] a very dangerous rock, high, slippery, and almost perpendicular, so-called because of the numerous people dashed to death down it. At ten o'clock, while crossing the river, we met Don Elias Jurado, Leonardo's brother, _en route_ to Pasto--the first traveller we had met since leaving that city. Continuing our journey through the dense forest, at one o'clock we reached Piedra Lisa,[33] another dangerous rock, along whose smooth, unbroken front, which stood at an angle of about fifty-five or sixty degrees, the trail passed. The passage of this rock, which is about fifty metres long, is very perilous and would be impassable were it not for some overhanging branches which one can grasp and hold on by. Piedra Lisa safely passed, the road continued fairly level, although very muddy on account of the thick undergrowth, and at three o'clock we entered Pueblo Viejo, a long string of scattered bamboo houses, intermingled with fields of maize, plantains and _yuca_, and large tracts of practically virgin forest. At one of these huts we stopped to take a few minutes' rest; the people received us very affably and immediately brought out a large jug of _chicha_,[34] which we soon emptied for them. After a little conversation about the probability of our getting lost in the "city" (of Mocoa), we again pushed on, and at four o'clock in the afternoon of November 21st reached Mocoa in a state of complete exhaustion. Here, after a great deal of inquiry, we secured a very dirty room in a still dirtier bamboo hut. Leaving our effects here, Perkins and I went to the little crystal stream, known as the Quebrada Mulata, which dashes past the back of the town, and indulged in a good bath. By the time we had finished this operation, the indefatigable Pedro had ascertained the whereabouts of the "restaurant," to which we immediately wended our way, for we were starving. After we had finished our dinner, which did not take very long, for it was composed only of a quantity of unripe plantains, a still larger quantity of overdone _yucas_, and a little thin, tasteless coffee, we invested in a couple of bottles of wine and, retiring to our hut, Perkins, Pedro, and I duly congratulated one another on the successful termination of the first stage of our journey--the trip over the Andes. This duty performed, we retired to dream of our approaching descent of the Putumayo.