About five o’clock we arrived at Talca, and went straight to the Hotel Colon, kept by Gassaroni.  Every Italian who starts an hotel in this part of the world calls it, as a matter of course, ’The Columbus Hotel;’ for they are very anxious to claim the great navigator as a countryman, though the Spaniards dispute their right to do so, on the ground that Genoa, where he was really born, was at that time an independent State.  While we were waiting for dinner we walked about the town, which so exactly resembles Concepcion and Chilian in the arrangement of its streets, buildings, and trees, that I doubt whether any one familiar with the three places could tell immediately which town he was in, if transported suddenly to the middle of the Plaza, though I believe Talca is rather the largest.  It still retains its old Indian name, meaning ‘thunder,’ doubtless on account of the frequency and violence of the thunder-storms by which it is visited.

Monday, October 23rd.—­Soon after midnight I was aroused by a great noise.  At first I thought I was dreaming, but a very brief reflection convinced me of the existence of an energetically played big-drum, somewhere in the immediate neighbourhood of my bed-room.  I at once got up and, peeping through the window in the door, saw a military band of twenty-five performers, standing on the other side of the courtyard, blowing and hitting their hardest.  It must be confessed that they played well, and that their selection of music was good, but it was, nevertheless, rather annoying, after a long and fatiguing day, and with the prospect of an early start, to be kept awake until half-past three in the morning, while they serenaded and toasted the prima donna, and each of the other members of the theatrical company who are staying here.  The noise was, of course, increased by the reverberation from the walls of the courtyard, and, finding it impossible to sleep, I abandoned the attempt, and took to writing instead.  At last the welcome notes of the Chilian national air gave me hope that the entertainment was over for the night—­or rather morning—­and soon afterwards all was once more quiet.

We left Talca by the 7.30 train, Mr. Budge, who had business at Curico, accompanying us.  All the engines and rolling stock this side of Santiago are of American make and pattern.  Mr. Budge had secured one of the long cars, with a passage down the centre, and a saloon at each end, for us, so we were very comfortable, and he told us a great deal about the country as we went along.  Like all Chilenos, he is very patriotic, and is especially proud of the financial stability of his country.  He often said,’ If English people would only invest their money here, instead of in Peru or the Argentine Republic, they would get eight per cent, on good security.’  We heard the same thing from many other sources; and it certainly does seem that this country is the most settled, and the least liable to be disturbed by revolutions, of any in South America.  At Curico[7] we breakfasted at a little restaurant on Chilian dishes and the wine of the country.  The latter is excellent and of various kinds, but it is so cheap that none of the innkeepers can be persuaded to supply it to travellers, whose only chance of tasting it, therefore, is at some small inn.