In spite of the ruggedness of the path, our horses progressed with wonderful alacrity, although occasionally impeded by the additional weight of the attendant burroqueros holding on by the tail, and laughing at our efforts to dislodge them.

On reaching the shoulder of one of the hills, we found the ravines and valleys below us filled with dense mist.
Here, at an elevation of 2500 feet, a species of spruce-like pine appeared to thrive well.

The path, which at times is not more than three feet wide, now winds along the sides of the mountain with many sharp turnings; heading numerous ravines, the frightful nature of which was partially concealed by the obscurity of the mist.
We halted at the Pass of the Curral, to which Captain Stanley's barometrical observations* assign an elevation of 2700 feet above the sea.

Shortly afterwards the mist gradually dissolved, unveiling the magnificent scenery below and around.

The Curral gives one the idea of a vast crater** of irregular form, surrounded by a rugged wall (upwards of a thousand feet in height) of grey weather-beaten rock cut down into wild precipices, intersected by ravines and slopes of debris mixed up with masses of crumbling rock, and towering upwards into fantastic peaks.