A steam-launch had been sent to meet us, but it could not get near enough to the shore for us to embark.  A rickety, leaky small boat, half full of water, was therefore, after some delay, procured, and in this we were sculled out, two by two, till the whole party were safely on board.  Outside there was quite a swell, and a north wind and rain are prophesied for to-morrow.  Mr. Mackay returned with us to the yacht, and stayed to dinner.  Before he left, the prognostications of bad weather were to some extent justified; for the wind changed, and rain, the first we have felt for some time, began to fall.

Thursday, October 19th.—­We have been persuaded by our friends here to try and see a little more of the interior of Chili than we should do if we were to carry out our original intention of going on to Valparaiso in the yacht, and then merely making an excursion to Santiago from that place.  We have therefore arranged to proceed at once overland to Santiago, by a route which will enable us to see something of the Cordillera of the Andes, to have a peep at the Araucanian Indians on the frontier, and to visit the baths of Cauquenes.  Tom, however, does not like to leave the yacht, and has decided to take her up to Valparaiso, and then come on to Santiago and meet us, in about five or six days’ time.  The anchor was accordingly hove short, and the mizen hoisted, when we landed this morning, in a drenching rain.

A coach runs daily from Lota to Concepcion, the first stage of our journey, but a special vehicle was engaged for our accommodation, and a curious affair it was to look at.  It seemed to be simply a huge wooden box, suspended, by means of thick leather straps, from C springs, without windows or doors, but provided with two long, narrow openings, through which you squeezed yourself in or out, and which could be closed at pleasure by roll-up leather blinds.  Inside, it was roomy, well-padded, and comfortable.

The rain had made the road terribly greasy, and several times the carriage slewed half-way round and slid four or five feet sideways down the hill, causing us to hold on, in expectation of a spill.  At last we reached the bottom in safety, and, crossing a small river, emerged upon the sea-shore at Playa Negra, or Black Beach, along which we drove for some distance through the deep, loose sand, the horses being up to their fetlocks in water most of the time.  Then we forded another little river, and, leaving the beach, proceeded up a steep road, not more than three yards wide, with a ditch on one side and a steep precipice on the other, to the little village of Coronel, overlooking the bay of the same name.  While the horses were being changed, we walked down to the little wooden pier, on the sea-shore, and saw the ‘Sunbeam’ just coming out of Lota Bay.