At three o'clock, P. M., we left Pisco. At first the road passed over very hard ground, then through deep sand, which continued till we got to Yca. Notwithstanding the heat, which in the month of February is insupportable, I was wrapped up in my woollen poncho. Experience had taught me that in the hotter districts the change of temperature which takes place at night, and causes fever, is least injurious when the traveller is protected in warm clothing. My Catalonian guide, who, with his arms covered merely by his shirt sleeves, nevertheless suffered greatly from the heat, could not comprehend why I had chosen such a dress. When I informed him that eleven days before I had, in the same clothing, passed a night on the Cordilleras, in the midst of snow, he shook his head in token of incredulity. Whilst the bell rang for evening prayers we rode into the Huilla Curin Plantation, which is surrounded by a charming grove of palm trees. We stopped for a few moments to gather some excellent figs. About midnight a heavy fog spread over the plain, and veiled from our sight a cross on the south, which had hitherto served to keep us in the right direction. We, however, advanced about a league farther. The Catalonian then often alighted to smell the sand, in order to ascertain whether we were taking the proper course. This is a very good practical method; for in deserts through which caravans frequently pass, the dung of the beasts of burthen mixed with the sand affords a sure indication of the track. When we had got about three quarters of a league farther on, we came close against a rock, which my guide--in whose acquaintance with the locality I had the most unbounded confidence--declared was quite unknown to him. There was therefore no doubt that we had got out of the right course. I lighted a cigar, and on examining, by its feeble light, my pocket compass, I discovered that instead of keeping to the south-east we had diverged to the west. As there was now no hope that the fog would clear away before day-break, we rolled ourselves in the warm sand, to await the coming morning.
I afterwards learned that in this very spot numerous travellers had lost their way, and had perished of thirst. In the year 1823, a ship stranded on this coast, with three hundred and twenty dragoons on board, under the command of Colonel Lavalle. The soldiers succeeded in getting ashore, but thirty-six hours afterwards they were lost in this sandy desert. When intelligence of the shipwreck reached Pisco, a cavalry regiment was despatched to search for the sufferers, and to supply them with provisions and water; but when they were found it was discovered that one hundred and sixteen men had died from fatigue and thirst, and a few days after fifty more perished from exhaustion. It is generally supposed that a healthy man can live four or five days unsupplied with food and drink. In the temperate climate of Europe, and with bodily rest, this, perhaps, may be the case; but in the burning wastes of Peru to be deprived of nourishment for only forty-eight hours, and at the same time to wander about in deep sand, would be followed by certain death. Severe thirst is the most horrible of torments, especially when the body is surrounded by a medium altogether of an arid nature. At sea it can be much longer endured than on a surface of sand.