to take us in nearer the shore, but, after all, we found ourselves
obliged to anchor again five miles off. No ship drawing more than ten
feet can get inside the sand-banks, which makes it a wretched place to
lie in, especially as the weather at this time of year is very
uncertain. You may go ashore from your ship on a fine clear morning,
and before you return a gale may have sprung up, accompanied by a
frightful sea. Open boats are therefore quite unsafe, a state of
things which has given rise to the existence of a class of fine boats,
specially built for the service, which attend all the ships lying in
the roads. They are half-decked, will sail in any weather, and can be
easily managed by two men.

About ten o'clock we went ashore again in the whale-boat, which Tom
had engaged to wait on us during our stay, and made the best of our
way to a warehouse to look at some ponchos, which are the speciality
of this part of South America. Everybody wears one, from the beggar to
the highest official. The best kind of ponchos are very expensive,
being made from a particular part of the finest hair of the vicuña,
hand-woven by women, in the province of Catamarca. The genuine article
is difficult to get, even here. In the shops the price usually varies
from 30_l_. to 80_l_.; but we were shown some at a rather lower
price--from 20_l_. to 60_l_. each. They are soft as silk, perfectly
waterproof, and will wear, it is said, for ever. We met a fine-looking
man in one of beautiful quality yesterday. He told us that it
originally cost 30_l_. in Catamarca, twenty years ago, and that he
gave 20_l_. for it, second-hand, ten years ago; and, with the
exception of a few slight tears, it is now as good as ever. Before we
came here, we were strongly advised, in case we should happen to go on
a rough expedition up country, not to be tempted to take with us any
_good_ ponchos, as the Gauchos, or half-bred Indians of the Pampas,