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carried a 12-gauge repeating shotgun and a Winchester .44. The firearms, excepting of course
the revolver, were strapped on top of the pack saddle; .45 ammunition being rather difficult to
obtain in many countries I added a .44 long (six-shooter) to my collection. Besides firearms,
I had to think about other important details; thus I added a cooking pot, a kettle, rice, beans,
coffee, tea, sugar, salt, biscuits, etc., to my little store, for they might come in handy in places
where it would be impossible to obtain food. At the same time I had to try to keep the weight
of the pack to a minimum. The horse I rode always carried the money, which is a consider-
able weight in parts where Indians will only accept silver coins. This animal also carried my
documents (letter of credit, passport, maps, etc.), compass, barometer, and a couple of topics
to pass away dull moments. Although the sheepskins of the saddle made quite a comfortable
bed, and knowing that we should encounter some very cold places in the mountains, I added
a big woollen blanket to my equipment. I also took a light rubber poncho, which is simply a
square sheet with a slit in the middle through which one puts one's head, making quite a good
of the horses were of the best quality and large enough so that I should be able to use them
as extra blankets during exceptionally cold nights. Of course I could not carry a tent, nor a
sleeping-bag, the weight and bulk of such being too much for the horses on so long a journey.
I had a net made to fit over the broad-rimmed hat and wide enough to fall over the shoulders.
time to protect the eyes against the glaring sun. Naturally I had very little use for these things
in the highlands of Bolivia, although I was worried by gnats and sand flies in several places
where I had never expected to find such.
Later, as I reached the low swamp regions in the tropics, these mosquito nets must have
saved my life. To protect my face and eyes against wind and sand I acquired a woollen mask
and green goggles, and these were most useful later. The horses shod, and many other details
attended to, I packed up and saddled, and confidently started out to tackle what I then thought
would be the toughest part of the whole journey, the part over the Andes down to the Pacific
Ocean. Had I guessed what obstacles and difficulties were in store for me after that, I really
believe I would never have started out, but then, 'fools rush in where angels fear to tread'.
Through Mighty Quebradas and over Windswept
Mountains towards the Bolivian Border
FromJujuyonwetravelled inavastanddeepvalleyleadingpractically duenorth.Everynow
and again Indians with troops of llamas, packed with rock salt and woven goods, passed us on
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