This was in sharp contrast with the low Ecuadorian shore-line; that was bad enough, with its dense, dark jungles growing to the water’s very edge, its overhanging masses of black clouds, and its breathless heat and silence that seemed to exude all the fatal maladies of a tropical clime. Nevertheless, there was a suggestion of life of some sort--inhospitable though it might be. It was not as if an outraged divinity had seared the land with withering breaths of hate, annihilating everything that possessed or gave promise of life, and leaving only the scorched desert as a fearsome reminder of celestial vengeance. But if the land appeared forsaken, the ocean teemed with life. Flocks of gulls always remained in the vicinity of the ship, and occasionally we saw petrels, shearwaters, and albatrosses; whales were not particularly plentiful, but porpoises appeared practically every day. Toward the end of the voyage seals also grew abundant. There are numbers of ports along the Peruvian coast and the _Palena_ stopped at many of them. The enormous swell coming from the south and scarcely felt at sea spends its violence along the shore, making landing very difficult, and often impossible. Steamships dare not approach close to the jutting rocks. All freight is unloaded into lighters; passengers are lowered in a chair operated by a steam-winch and dumped into the huge, flat-bottomed freight-carriers, together with their belongings. This always causes a good deal of excitement and not infrequently slight injuries are inflicted, as the boats are low one instant and come racing up the next on the top of a mountainous swell. At noon on the eighth day out from Panama we reached Paita. The town lies on the beach and just below the edge of a high sandy plateau. This is the centre of Peru’s oil-fields. Tanks were visible in the country near the town, and a thin film covered the water for several miles off-shore. Salavery is a small town with flat, square board houses. In back of it rise high escarpments of rock and sand. It never rains, so water is brought from a little valley far distant in the foot-hills. A narrow-gauge railroad connects the valley with the port, and sugar is brought out for export. It seems as if most of the coastal towns are merely ports or outlets for products from the interior. There are many fertile little spots between the ridges branching off from the main range; they are well watered by melting snow on the lofty summits, and a great variety of fruit, vegetables, cotton, and cane are grown.