The voyager sailing from the Atlantic into the Pacific Ocean passes a
dark granite headland rising nearly three thousand feet out of the
water, and which may be distinctly seen at a distance of sixty miles.
It is Cape Horn--the southern end, broken off by the Strait of Magellan,
of that range of mighty mountains which runs in a northerly course along
the western coast of South America, rising into lofty pinnacles--the
summits of many covered with perpetual snow--sinking at length only at
the northern extremity, where the narrow Isthmus of Panama unites the
two continents. Again it gradually rises in Mexico, and runs on under
the name of the Rocky Mountains, at a less elevation and a greater
distance from the sea, till it sinks once more into the snow-covered
plains of the Arctic region. We must, however, confine ourselves to the
South American portion of the range. For the entire distance its
summits are distinctly seen from the ocean, many at a distance of
upwards of a hundred miles. Between their base and the shores of the
Pacific there is, however, a level tract, in some parts consisting of
arid plains, from fifteen to fifty miles in width. In crossing them the
traveller finds not a drop of water to quench his raging thirst, nor a
blade of grass to feed his weary steed. Among the rocky caverns of
those mountain heights the savage bear has its abode, the mighty condor
takes its flight from their rugged peaks into the blue ether, and the
cold-looking llama, the vicuna, and alpaca find ample pasturage. In the
lower, the fierce jaguar ranges amidst its forests of graceful
palm-trees, the terrible alligator dwells on the banks of its streams,
and the anaconda watches for its prey; while bananas, yams, mandioc, and
all the fruits of a tropical clime, attain perfection. This mighty
range, however, does not run its length in one distinct line, but
separates; in some parts with deep valleys between them, like that of
the Puncu of Avisca, while at others there are vast table-lands; again,
however, to unite and spread out into numerous rugged sierras.
The western portion of these ranges is properly the Cordilleras; while
the eastern, which slopes towards the wide-extending plains of Brazil,
forms the true Andes. The southern portion skirts the bleak shores of
Patagonia in a single sierra, for a distance of nearly one thousand
miles, in some parts rising to the height of seven thousand feet above
the ocean. Entering Chili, the mountains rise higher and higher, till
they culminate in the mighty peak of Aconcagua, the most lofty height of
the whole range.
At the boundary-line of Bolivia the chain separates into two portions,
enclosing the great table-land of Desuguadero, thirteen thousand feet
above the sea. At one end of this lofty region is the city of Potosi,
rising above the clouds--the highest in the world, erected amid the
groans and tears of the hapless natives compelled to labour at its
far-famed silver-mines. At the other is found Cuzco, the ancient
capital of the Incas. Between them lies the Lake of Titicaca, the
centre of bygone Peruvian civilisation.
Running still parallel with the coast, and looking down upon the modern
city of Lima, the range passes through Peru till it again divides in
three portions at the confines of the equator, where it once more forms
two lines, which rise in that magnificent congregation of mountains
which surround the famous Valley of Quito. Here no less than twenty-one
volcanoes rear their lofty summits, many of them crowned with perpetual
snow, amid which Chimborazo and Cotopaxi are pre-eminent.
To the north of the equator, the Cordilleras again form one vast ridge,
and passing through New Granada, spread out like the branches of a palm
through Venezuela and along the northern shores of the continent washed
by the Caribbean Sea.
The whole of this vast range, from Cape Horn to Panama, gives evidence
of the hidden fires which glow beneath its base, and by which it was
originally created. Fifty-one volcanoes are found along the line. Of
the twenty which surround the Valley of Quito, three are active, five
dormant, and twelve are supposed to be extinct. By far the larger
number rise out of the eastern range; indeed, the western contains only
one active volcano, but out of it tower the peerless Chimborazo, and
Pichincha with its deep crater. The whole region is subject to terrific
earthquakes, which have from time to time shaken down its cities, caused
huge waves to flow over the level land, and destroyed countless
thousands of its inhabitants. Chimborazo was long supposed to be the
most lofty mountain on the globe. It is 21,420 feet high; but Aconcagua
in Chili rises to the height of 23,200 feet. Several of the summits of
the Himalayan range in Asia are over 25,000 feet; and Kilima Njaro, the
most lofty peak in Africa, is about the same altitude as Chimborazo.
Chimborazo, for solitary grandeur--and from the excessive steepness of
its sides, which has prevented the foot of man from reaching its
summit--stands, however, unrivalled.
From the lofty heights over which we have thus rapidly passed,
numberless streams take their rise, rushing and foaming down their steep
sides to feed those mighty rivers which, flowing across the continent,
seek an outlet in the far-distant Atlantic. On the western side,
comparatively few and insignificant rivers cross the narrow plains into
the Pacific. Thus the inhabitants of the tropical portions have to
depend on artificial irrigation for the cultivation of the land.
What mighty force must have been required to raise those mountains to
their present elevation,--and how fearful must be the fires which still
rage beneath their bases! Gigantic, however, as they seem to human
eyes, the most lofty could be represented on a globe six feet in
diameter by a grain of sand, less than one-twentieth of an inch in
thickness. How insignificant then must the proudest works of man
appear--what a mere speck himself--to One who looks down from on high on
this earth of ours!
On examining their sides in various parts, proof is afforded that these
vast mountains have been heaved upwards from beneath the ocean. Shells
are found 1300 feet above the sea, covered with marine mud. On a beach
elevated 2500 feet above the Pacific, numerous species of patella and
other shells can be picked up, identical with those obtained on the
coast with the living animal inhabiting them. At Huanuco, in Peru,
there is a coal-bed existing at the height of 14,700 feet. Shells have
also been found at the height of 13,000 feet; and on the side of
Chimborazo there is a salt spring 13,000 feet above the ocean.
The surface of the great lake of Titicaca--the largest piece of
fresh-water in South America--is 12,795 feet above the Pacific; an
elevation greater than that of the highest peaks of the Pyrenees. In
the neighbourhood of this lake, remains exist which speak of the
advanced state of civilisation of the inhabitants before the appearance
of the Incas, with whose latter history alone we are acquainted. So
completely is the lake surrounded by mountains, that, though fed by
numerous streams, not the smallest rivulet escapes to find its way
either into the Pacific or Atlantic. One large river, however, the
Desaguadero, flows out of its south-west corner, and disappears in the
swampy Lake Aullagas in the south of Bolivia. Its superabundant water
must, therefore, be taken off by evaporation, excessive in that elevated
region. High above it, amid chilling mists and biting storms of driving
snow, are found the silver-mines of Potosi and Pasco.
However, before we wander further amid the giddy precipices and
snow-capped summits of this mighty range of mountains, we will descend
for a time to the lower world, and glance round its southern extremity
and along its western shores, bathed by the waters of the
wide-stretching Pacific.