Each morning when starting upon a journey over an unknown country, with much uncertainty as to where quarters would be found for the night, there was a sense of satisfaction in seeing placed upon the pommel of the saddle the hammock in which you intended to sleep. It gave freedom from all anxiety with regard to the future. There was no cause to feel any doubts respecting the beds at a Spanish posada, or the rough interior of an Indian hut, and there was always the prospect of obtaining, after the fatigues of the day, a good night’s rest. In thus travelling and having at hand sufficient provisions and fuel to guard against being by any accident in want amongst these mountainous regions, there was a feeling of independence which was very exhilarating. This kind of gipsy, Bohemian life was singularly attractive, and the small element of risk from the possibility of meeting hostile Indians was too slight to have any influence upon the mind. There was a certain degree of solitude in thus riding without a companion, as the guide ran several hundred yards ahead, but this was not much felt, for there was a never ending change of scene, and every hour brought something new and unexpected. In the evening as we descended the slopes of the valleys, we met numbers of Indians carrying heavy loads on their backs. I had noticed when riding amongst the higher parts of these hills that crosses were placed upon all remarkable positions, and at the corners where paths branched off towards the hamlets. When passing these crosses the men invariably took off their broad straw hats, and showed by their manner great respect. I was surprised at observing in the valleys that the Indians suffered much from goitre. This unsightly growth seemed chiefly to affect the women. It was the same in size and appearance as that which exists amongst the inhabitants of several of the secluded valleys in Switzerland.