The second chain, or that of Parima, quits the Andes nearly at the same place as the former, but assumes im mediately an easterly direction along the north bank of the river Guavari. At the fifth degree of north latitude it crosses the Orinoco, and proceeds north-east to the source of the river Caronis. Beyond this we are for a long time unable to trace the progress of this range of mountains, owing to the savage ferocity of the native tribes, which deterred every traveller from attempting to explore these regions. This dangerous enterprise, however, has at last been effected by the singular cour age and address of Don Antonio Santo, who by assuming the dress, and speaking the language of the different tribes, was enabled to travel in perfect security from the Orinoco to the river of the Amazons. From him we learn, that the same chain, though considerably dimi nished in breadth, is found between 4" and 5° north latitude, and from this proceeds in a southerly direction to the Mao, a tributary stream of the Orinoco ; it after wards assumes a south-east direction, and loses itself among the granite mountains of Guiana.
The third chain, or the cordillera of Chiquitos, is known only from the accounts of some persons who have resided at Buenos Ayres, and travelled through the Pampas. It unites the Andes of Peru and Chili with the ridges of Brazil and Paraguay, and stretches from La Paz, Potosi, and Tucumon, through the provin ces of Moscos, Chiquitos, and Chaco, towards the go vernment of the mines of St Paul in Brazil.
Having given this short sketch of the geographical position of the different ranges of the Andes, we shall next proceed to detail some of the more interesting par ticulars connected with each range. Next to its sur prising length, exceeding, as we have already observed, 4000 miles ; the most remarkable circumstance relating to the principal chain is the peculiar form which it as sumes in the province of Quito, where, on the south of Cuenza it separates into two lofty ridges, which proceed northwards in almost parallel lines to Popayan, and again unite into one great trunk. This double chain, if we may judge from the surprising height of the moun tains which compose it, forms the centre and most in teresting portion of the Andes. Owing to the acciden tal circumstance of the French mathematicians having selected the plain of Quito as the ground for measuring a degree of the meridian, we are furnished with a greater number of facts respecting the Andes in this neighbourhood than in any other part of this great range ; and though the science of mineralogy had at that time made little progress, or at least excited little interest in the French mathematicians, of which no bet ter proof can be given than the attempts of Bouguer to describe the composition of these mountains, by inform ing us, that the bottom is clay, and the summit a mass of stones ; yet several particulars are mentioned by them which cannot fail to be interesting to our readers.
From the south of Cuenza, where the double chain begins, to the north of Popayan, where it terminates, the distance is generally reckoned about 500 miles. The western ridge is about 120 miles from the coast, and the space included between the ridges, or the plain of Quito, does not exceed 20 miles ; and at some points the mountains approach much nearer. In consequence
of the proximity of these lofty ridges, the long valley which separates them is perhaps the most elevated land in the world, and would, as Bouguer remarks, be itself considered as a lofty mountain, were it not encompassed by mountains still more stupendous. Though several concurring circumstances may lead the most unob serving to conjecture, that this plain is raised considera bly above the level of the sea, especially the appearance of the streams which are seen at every instant bursting through the intervals between the mountains, forming dreadful cataracts, and hastening either to lose them selves in the Western Ocean, or to swell the mighty rivers which water the interior of South America ; yet it is only after making the most correct barometrical ob servations, that we can bring ourselves to believe, that a plain, so well peopled and so richly cultivated, is found at the surprising height of 1400 or 1500 toises above the level of the sea ; an elevation superior to the summits of the Pyrenees.
The first aspect of this plain, which in many of its features bears a striking resemblance to the vale of Cha mouni, is described by travellers as peculiarly interesting and romantic. While traversing the woody deserts be tween the coast and the western ridge, and viewing its pointed summits clothed with perpetual snow, they sel dom anticipate the scene which lies beyond it. They imagine, that after scaling these mountains of frightful aspect, they shall be compelled to descend on the other side through forests like those they have passed ; they never dream of mountains beyond these equally lofty and terrific, forming the eastern wall of an extensive valley, in which nature bath chosen to scatter her richest beau ties with magnificent profusion. Nor is the delight felt by the traveller upon the first view of this romantic plain, more owing to surprise than to the pleasing contrast which it affords to the country through which he is com pelled to pass in his way to Quito. The approach to the Andes from the western coast, is every where through forests of the most luxuriant growth, through which it is often necessary to open a path with the axe, and where the ground, deluged by the torrents of rain peculiar to an equinoctial climate, and sheltered from the sun's rays by the exuberance of the foliage, becomes a swampy desert, which always proves extremely harassing and often fa tal to the inexperienced traveller. As the land begins to rise, the forest opens ; but the scene, still uninviting, presents the usual difficulties and dangers peculiar to mountainous regions. The narrow path by which the traveller is compelled to search his way, in general winds along the edge of some frightful precipice, or pas ses through a deep ravine, where a single mule can with difficulty force a passage, or leads across some deep im petuous torrent, over which he is obliged to pass by a bridge, of a strange and sometimes alarming aspect.