evel of the
then united lakes must have reached, in days gone by, some 150 ft. higher
than the plain on which we were travelling. The low undulations on our
left had evidently been formed under water in the lake bottom.

The junction of Oruro, from which the Cochabamba railway branches, was
quite a large place, of 8,000 inhabitants, but with no particularly
striking buildings. Tin and silver mining was carried on in the
surrounding mountains.

From Oruro I continued the journey to Antofagasta via Uyuni. Immense
deposits of borax were to be seen all along the line from the station of
Ulaca; then we came to a most beautiful sight--the volcano of Ollaguee,
12,123 ft. above the sea level. It looked like a giant dome, snow-capped,
and smoking on its southern side. Its slopes were fairly regular, and of
most brilliant colouring, red and blue. Near the volcano were mounds of
mud and shattered rock. Ollaguee stood on the boundary between Bolivia and
Chile.

[Illustration: On the Andes.]

After passing San Martin, the first station on the Chilian side, the
railway skirted the bed of an ancient lake, an immense circular flat
stretch with deposits of sand and borax, in which could be seen
occasional pools of stagnant water. On the west side stood a high
three-peaked mountain covered with snow, while at the southern end of
that plain was a charming lakelet. We had no sooner left this beautiful
view than we had before us to the south-west an immense conical mountain,
flat-topped. It looked just like the well-known Fujiyama of Japan, only
more regular in its sloping lines.

We passed the works of a Borax Company, which were between the stations
of Sebollar and Ascotan. There was to be seen another immense lake of
borax, some 40 kil. (24 miles) long.

I arrived that evening at Antofagasta, and was fortunate enough to get on
board one of the Pacific Mail Line steamers the next morning on my way to
Valparaiso. We were now in the height of civilization again--very hot,
very uncomfortable, very ambitious, very dirty, the hotels abominable.
Had it not been for the kindness of friends I should have fared badly
indeed in Valparaiso, for the place was invaded by a swarm of American
tourists, who had just landed from an excursion steamer and rendered the
place unbearable.

From Valparaiso, as soon as it was possible to obtain accommodation, I
travelled across the Andes and as far as Buenos Aires by the Trans-Andine
railway. The scener