one hundred and fifty feet, depth seventy, and anchored one mile above, having Pan de Azucar east of the anchorage. These detached, rounded elevations to which I allude are all on the east.. The monotony of the west plain is unbroken but by a solitary mountain, rising directly from the bank of the river, as if detached by a convulsion of nature from its opposite neighbor."

November 21st, 5 o'clock A.M. Accompanied by Lieutenant Powell, Dr. Carter, and the pilot Bernardino, I started for the ascent of Pan de Azucar. After wading for about a mile and a half through a sea of grass, we reached the foot of the mountain, and commenced the ascent. Making our way over volcanic rocks protruding beyond a shrubby growth, and at times through closely matted and almost impenetrable masses of vegetation, we had advanced about two thirds of the distance, when the doctor and pilot gave out, and decided to remain and keep each other company. Spoiled in a cruise of several months, where we had only to "dip alongside" for the luxury of fresh water, not one of us had thought of bringing a single bottle of the essential element. Thirst was excessive; but we continued the ascent, and by 8 o'clock A.M. Mr. Powell and myself were standing upon the rounded summit, where

164

VIEW FROM THE MOUNTAIN.

a stunted and scattering growth offered no obstacle to a clear and uninterrupted view of the country in every direction.

The day, fortunately for us, was not intensely hot. At 8 A.M. thermometer stood at 79°. The wind was then south; it had been prevailing during the last two days from southeast and southwest, within which time the lowest temperature was 65°, on the 20th at 6 A.M., and the highest 79°; a remarkable change from the reading of the 19th, which gave as a minimum and maximum 84° and 97°. We obtained a reading of the barometer, which, in connection with simultaneous observations made on board ship, gave the height of the mountain at thirteen hundred and fifty feet above the river. According to our observations, it is in latitude 21° 25' 10", longitude 57° 55′ 54′′ west, three quarters of a mile from the river on the east bank, sixty-three from the Rio Appa, and three hundred and ninety miles from Asuncion.

On all sides below us was a grassy palm-plain, relieved here and there by dark belts of forest, and by insulated mountains or hills, some peaked, others rounded, some rising precipitously for several hundred feet, others sloping gracefully to the plain. The southern horizon was bounded by the wavy undulations of the Cordillera de Amarbay and the sharp outlines of the Siete Puntas -Seven Peaks. In the Chaco, far away to the north, was the Techo da Morro.

There were no estancias in view, with their sleek herds, no orange groves, no green promise, no golden tints of ripening or matured cereals; not a habitation or sign of civilized or savage life. The solitude would have been oppressive but for the beauty of the face of the country, and the exhilaration caused by the delicious atmosphere, tempered by southern breezes.

May I be excused if, under its influence, or an imperious instinct of our nature-American nature-I found myself speculating upon the future of these favored regions; a great predestined future, none could doubt, who for many months had voyaged through such a valley of beauty, presenting, with the exception of that of our Mississippi, the fairest unbroken extent of cultivable land in the world. Is this wealth of creation to remain unavailable for the comfort and happiness of men, while the powers holding dominion over it invite immigration, and the over-crowded cities of Europe teem with millions whose cry is bread? When the dungeons of Southern Italy re-echo the sighs of men who have dared to aspire to political independence? and while the indus

THE FUTURE OF LA PLATA.

165

trial nations are seeking new sources of supply in raw material and new outlets for their manufactures? and while, even in Constitutional England, in underground dens, or within the shadow of palatial precincts, are hid, not sheltered, men, women, and children, crushed, not by vice, but a poverty that generates crime? Emigrants to the valley of La Plata may reach their homes in ocean steamers. No barren wildernesses are to be traversed. No long winters or autumnal exhalations are to be feared. There is much to allure, nothing to repel. No warring, as in the valley of the Amazon and Orinoco, with Indian, beast, and reptile, and, above all, with the great dragon, tropical miasma, which the mind and strength of the white race are impotent to conquer. If Bolivia, Paraguay, the States of the Argentine Confederation, and of Buenos Ayres, would unite and form, for great purposes, a community of nations, neither filibustering hosts nor imperial armies or fleets could be feared. Under the ægis of a liberal Constitution, which would reject all bigoted exclusiveness of political or relig ious doctrine, added to the facilities which climate and soil offer to new populations-above all, to cultivators and artisans-the face of these wilds would be transfigured into prosperous states, the parts of a South American Republic, which would advance to a zenith of unprecedented power. Spanish galleons, freighted with the "fifths" of majesty; the ships of Portugal and Great Britain, laden with the profits of illegal trade, will never again sail from La Plata. But the steamers of maritime nations, bearing the products of industrial power, will cover her interior water-courses, and, in return, pour into the lap of those nations the indigenous agricultural and mineral wealth of the Western Indies. No overthrow of existent governments, no political revulsions are necessary to place the inhabitants of these regions under the beneficent influences of a great republican civilization.

But my dreams and speculations were at an end as we went pitching down the steep, in many places precipitous sides of the mountain, here catching at a shrub, there resting against a rock. The descent proved far more difficult than the ascent had been. We found the doctor and Bernardino where we had left them. The former, oppressed with drowsiness, had kept awake, not relishing the idea of being caught napping by a jaguar, while the pilot philosophically refreshed himself with a long sleep. At last we reached the river, and relieved our thirst and fatigue by rushing into its waters.

We returned with some additions to our ornithologic collection -a few birds not before seen, among them a toucan; also some fruit of the "yatay guazu," a palm not found south of the Pan de Azucar, and differing somewhat from the trees of that family growing so extensively on the plains, being less lofty, and the trunk of greater diameter.

The width of the river at our anchorage off Pan de Azucar was about one third of a mile; temperature of water 84°. From Salvador, the general width is from a quarter to one third of a mile. Least depth since passing the Malo Paso, eighteen feet; greatest, ninety feet of line, and no bottom.

"November 22d. The character of the river, height of banks, and their growth, have varied but little to Olimpo, or Fort Bourbon, thirty-three miles from Pan de Azucar. Two miles above our last anchorage, near the mountain in view from the Chaco side, and distant about three miles from the river, was Round Top-Techo da Morro; opposite were a few detached hills. With these exceptions the country is low, with palms and grass. Here and there, where the banks are slightly elevated, are patches, but no extended reaches of good timber. Twenty-four miles above the mount, half concealed by a small island on the west bank, which rises twelve feet above the water, we saw on the east a toldo or wigwam, but no Indians-a good position whence to escape to the Chaco if molested by Paraguayans; of this, however, they could have but little apprehension, as no force has yet ventured such a distance-ninety-three miles from a frontier guardia. The range of the Sierra Olimpo, as here represented, is seen at the distance of two miles, bearing north by west in the Chaco. Upon its northern extremity, which slopes to the river, stands Fort Bourbon, according to our observations in latitude 21° 01′ 39", longitude 57° 55′ 40′′, and variation 1° east. Passing half a mile above, we anchored with the fort bearing S. 5° E."

Soon after coming to anchor we visited the now abandoned fort. It stands on the lowest point of the Olimpo range, not more than forty-five feet above the river, here one third of a mile in width, and forms a square of one hundred feet, having at each angle bastions, which alone were intended for guns, as the walls, fourteen feet high, and two and a half in thickness, are without embrasures. It is built of a sandstone found in the neighboring sierras, and its position is admirably chosen for commanding the channel of the river; but it is commanded, in turn, by the heights