MAY 4, 1835.
Finding the coast-road devoid of interest of any kind, we turned
inland towards the mining district and valley of Illapel. This
valley, like every other in Chile, is level, broad, and very
fertile: it is bordered on each side, either by cliffs of
stratified shingle, or by bare rocky mountains. Above the straight
line of the uppermost irrigating ditch, all is brown as on a
high-road; while all below is of as bright a green as verdigris,
from the beds of alfarfa, a kind of clover. We proceeded to Los
Hornos, another mining district, where the principal hill was
drilled with holes, like a great ants'-nest. The Chilian miners are
a peculiar race of men in their habits. Living for weeks together
in the most desolate spots, when they descend to the villages on
feast-days there is no excess of extravagance into which they do
not run. They sometimes gain a considerable sum, and then, like
sailors with prize-money, they try how soon they can contrive to
squander it. They drink excessively, buy quantities of clothes, and
in a few days return penniless to their miserable abodes, there to
work harder than beasts of burden. This thoughtlessness, as with
sailors, is evidently the result of a similar manner of life.
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