Convent at Santiago.—Group of people on the outside whispering and speaking through the keyhole, the hinges and the cracks of the door—turnabout filled with old linen—door half opened by a janitress to take in two large models on wheels, the one of a brown cow, the other of a brown bull— door of the chapel open—chapel divided into two parts by a double grating, one of iron, the other of wood; the lattices about the size of those in a cottage window. At one end the altar glittering with silver, mummery, and candles; at the other side of the grating the nuns assembled at vespers— some were sitting at the sides and back of the chapel —others kneeling in the middle, even close to the grating, and with their faces towards the altar. They appeared to be almost all very old, fat women, short and thick—complexions stained with garlic and oil, and countenances soured by long confinement. They were praying as if they were sick and tired of it, and as if they neither cared nor knew what they were saying. Four or five were playing on fiddles, which they held up to their necks like men—one was sawing an immense double bass, and another was blowing with a large hand-bellows into the lungs of a little organ, on which a sister-nun was playing. They all sang together, and I never heard sounds less melodious.

I waited some time at the post-hut, talking with the old lady, who was always very kind and glad to see me, and was also extremely clever and entertaining; I then mounted my horse, and, after galloping nearly an hour, I overtook the coach just as it had reached the banks of the river Desaguadero, which was unusually deep and rapid. There was nothing but a small bark, but we lost no time in filling it with the luggage, and then made preparations for dragging the carriage through the river. I took off my clothes, and throwing them into the boat, I tied a silk handkerchief round my neck, and put my watch there to keep it dry. I had my pistols in my right hand, and I then rode into the river. The horse was instantly out of his depth, but he swam over very well. Just as I had scrambled up the bank, a man, dressed in a dirty-looking poncho, who lived in a hut about a hundred yards off, came up and asked to be paid for the boat; I told him I would pay him as soon as the coach was over, and I asked him to take care of my pistols for me, and he accordingly took them to his hut.

The mules were ordered at twelve o'clock, but did not arrive till four: we had been waiting for them with great impatience; at last we heard the tinkling bell approaching, and they then came into the yard of the Fonda (inn), driven by the capataz and one peon. The capataz was a tall stout man, with a bad expression of countenance: we found him cruel, lazy, insolent, cowardly, and careless of everything but eating, and all this easily to be read in his countenance. The peon was a handsome, slight-made, active young fellow.

There were sixteen mules of different sizes and colours; they were all thin, but looked very healthy and hardy. One or two of them had dreadful sore backs, which I pointed out to the capataz, who promised to change them as soon as he got out of Mendoza. As my party consisted of eight people, and as we had baggage sufficient for six mules, we had only two spare ones, and these unable to work; whereas I learnt afterwards, that the capataz was bound to provide a much larger proportion of extra mules, but he was as greedy after lucre as he was after food, and to save a few dollars he would have worked his poor mules to death.