Just below rises the silent mass of Sotará, crowned with the snow of centuries; the precipitous slopes are seamed and worn by the frequent slides of ice and stones from above, and deep, snow-filled gashes extend far down below the glittering dome in a ragged fringe. At night the moonlight steals softly up the frigid heights and reverently bathes the ancient head in a halo of dazzling splendor. As the sun mounted higher and higher the peaks of the Western Range appeared one by one, like islands in mid-ocean, led by the awe-inspiring Munchique and followed by his lesser satellites. Between the two ranges, in the fruitful valley of the Cauca, Popayán still slumbered beneath a blanket of billowy softness. By six o’clock the _arrieros_ had corralled the mules and riding-horses, and half an hour later we were on the march. Replacing the dry and barren _lomas_, we now found a bush-covered country with occasional long strips of low forest in the hollows; but the trail was an exceedingly difficult one, owing to the rocky nature of the country and the great boulders that obstruct the way. Frequently a small stream had to be crossed, such as the Rio Piendano, which is spanned by an arched bridge built of large, hand-made bricks, a curious relic of olden Spanish days. Down goes the trail five hundred feet or more at an angle of forty-five degrees, and then up again on the other side, the mules snorting and puffing as they creep along at a snail’s pace. All the rivers seem to flow through deep gorges. Only sure-footed mules are of service on this trail, each carrying not more than two hundred pounds. The distance from Morales to Popayán is not great; without cargo-mules it is an easy day’s ride, but with a caravan of tired, heavily laden animals that have come all the way from Cali it is the part of wisdom to spend the night at the little _posada_ La Venta and ride into the city early the next morning. Here a room and a good meal can usually be had on short notice, but one must carry his own cot and bedding, as luxuries of this kind are not furnished in Colombian inns except in the larger cities. We were up and on our way early the next morning, for it was market-day--the day when the inhabitants from miles around flock to the city to buy and sell and to have a good time generally. It was our first visit and we could not afford to miss such an interesting and typical sight.