The Only Sensation I Experienced Was A Slight
Tightness Across The Head And Chest, Like That Felt On Leaving
A Warm Room And Running Quickly In Frosty Weather.
There
was some imagination even in this; for upon finding fossil
shells on the highest ridge, I entirely forgot the puna in my
delight.
Certainly the exertion of walking was extremely
great, and the respiration became deep and laborious: I am
told that in Potosi (about 13,000 feet above the sea) strangers
do not become thoroughly accustomed to the atmosphere for
an entire year. The inhabitants all recommend onions for
the puna; as this vegetable has sometimes been given in
Europe for pectoral complaints, it may possibly be of real
service: - for my part I found nothing so good as the fossil
shells!
When about half-way up we met a large party with seventy
loaded mules. It was interesting to hear the wild cries
of the muleteers, and to watch the long descending string
of the animals; they appeared so diminutive, there being
nothing but the black mountains with which they could be
compared. When near the summit, the wind, as generally
happens, was impetuous and extremely cold. On each side of
the ridge, we had to pass over broad bands of perpetual
snow, which were now soon to be covered by a fresh layer.
When we reached the crest and looked backwards, a glorious
view was presented. The atmosphere resplendently clear;
the sky an intense blue; the profound valleys; the wild
broken forms: the heaps of ruins, piled up during the lapse
of ages; the bright-coloured rocks, contrasted with the quiet
mountains of snow, all these together produced a scene no
one could have imagined. Neither plant nor bird, excepting
a few condors wheeling around the higher pinnacles, distracted
my attention from the inanimate mass. I felt glad
that I was alone: it was like watching a thunderstorm, or
hearing in full orchestra a chorus of the Messiah.
On several patches of the snow I found the Protococcus
nivalis, or red snow, so well known from the accounts of
Arctic navigators. My attention was called to it, by observing
the footsteps of the mules stained a pale red, as if their
hoofs had been slightly bloody. I at first thought that it was
owing to dust blown from the surrounding mountains of red
porphyry; for from the magnifying power of the crystals
of snow, the groups of these microscopical plants appeared
like coarse particles. The snow was coloured only where it
had thawed very rapidly, or had been accidentally crushed.
A little rubbed on paper gave it a faint rose tinge mingled
with a little brick-red. I afterwards scraped some off the
paper, and found that it consisted of groups of little spheres
in colourless cases, each of the thousandth part of an inch in
diameter.
The wind on the crest of the Peuquenes, as just remarked,
is generally impetuous and very cold: it is said [3] to blow
steadily from the westward or Pacific side.
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