Untitled - The Alfred Russel Wallace Website

CH. xjx IN THE ECUADOREAN ANDES 189
with long lines of Cactus and American Aloe, the
fences of the country, against which the wind piles
up
the sand like snow-drifts. It is true that most
of this sandy country produces scanty crops of
barley, peas, and lupines, and that, where it is
accessible to irrigation,
it is rendered even very
at a distance it often looks quite naked.
fertile ; but
On account of the sand, and of the violent wind
that gets up as the sun approaches mid-heaven, it
is only in the early morning one can go out on foot,
and then not with much pleasure, for although
Ambato has such a coquettish appearance, and has
been built entirely anew since the great earthquake
of 1797, notions of cleanliness are so lax that it is
and slow
necessary to proceed with cautious steps
to avoid the "
"
quisquilia that are copiously strewn
about and salute the olfactory organs with an
odour by no means " sweeter than smell of sweetest
fennel "
(vide Paradise Lost}. At early dawn it is
difficult to avoid stumbling over the "bodies"
squatting down at the street sides, and even in the
principal square, like so many toads, and it is not
uncommon for a decent -looking woman in that
position to look up in your face as you pass her
and give you the " Buenos dias, Senor !
" with an
air of the most unconscious innocence. At 10
o'clock -or sometimes not until noon -- the wind
gets up from its sleep, and from that time till about
sunset blows over these high bleak grounds with
the fury of a hurricane, raising up the fine sand,
which obscures the landscape as it were with
volumes of mist, and penetrates the narrowest
chinks in doors and windows. Few people, except
the native Indians, stir beyond the precincts of the