At daylight on May 19th Paco complained of having to rise before the sun, although he must have been half-frozen. The mules had escaped, and we were fully three hours in catching them. The ground was covered with a crisp frost, and during the forenoon we were traveling over the same lofty wilderness, consisting of grassy undulating hills, with ridges of cliffs, and huge boulders here and there. The view was bounded on the north and east by the splendid snowy peaks of the Caravayan range, and to the north-west by those of Vilcañota. The only living things, in these wild solitudes, are the graceful _vicuñas_, which peered at us with their long necks from behind the grassy slopes, the _guanacos_, the _biscaches_ burrowing amongst the rocks, and the _huallatas_ or large geese on the margins of streams or pools of water. At about noon we began to descend a rocky dangerous cuesta, where there was much trouble with the mules, which were constantly attempting to lie down and roll with the plants. The steep descent led into the plain of Putina, which was covered with flocks of sheep, with small farms, shaded by clumps of _queñua_-trees, nestling under the sandstone cliffs which bound the plain. Crossing another range, we reached a swampy plain, with sheep and cattle scattered over it, and stopped at an abandoned shepherd's hut, the exact counterpart of last night's lodging. I had been ten hours in the saddle, and was faint from hunger, but had to go supperless to bed. Paco was nearly breaking down from a bad wound in his foot, but I bandaged it with lint, and he was able to proceed. He had an _alco_ or Peruvian dog with him, which was devotedly attached to its master. These dogs are something like Newfoundlands, only much smaller, generally black or white, and seldom bark.