several miles from the San Juan it is a sluggish, muddy stream between steep slippery banks; higher up, flowing over a gravelly and then a rocky bed, it finally disappears in steep ravines filled with huge bowlders. The main San Francisco comes from the northwest, but a large tributary has its source to the eastward in a range of hills which separates the San Francisco basin from the immediate Caribbean water-shed. This range, unlike the ones already noted, is at heart an uninterrupted mass of homogeneous hypersthene andesite, and with one exception nothing but fragments of trap or trap in situ, is to be found in any of the streams descending from either its western or eastern slopes. The one exception is the Cañito Maria, a tributary of the San Francisco, entering it but little more than a mile from the San Juan. In the bed of this stream were abundant specimens of agates, jasper, and petrified woods of several varieties in a wonderfully good state of preservation.
This range of hills ends at the Tamborcito bend of the San Juan, four miles below the mouth of the San Francisco, and is the last easterly projecting spur from the mountain backbone of the interior. Between it and the coast there are, however, mountain masses of equal or greater elevation, notably "El Gigante" and the Silico hills, the former some fifteen hundred feet high, but these are simply isolated mountain ganglia, their innumerable radiating spurs speedily giving way to swamps or river valleys.
The streams that flow down the eastern slope of the Silico hills are, from their sources to the lowlands, of almost idyllic beauty. Beginning as noisy little brooks tumbling over black rocks in a V-shaped ravine near the summit of the hills, they rapidly gather volume and slide along in a polished channel of trap, tumbling every now and then as sheets of white spray over vertical ledges forming here and there deep green pools, and then after they have passed down among the foot-hills, rippling in broad shallow reaches over sunlit beds of bright yellow gravel. The water of these streams is clear and sparkling as that of an Alpine stream and apparently almost as cool. The insect pests of the tropics are unknown in the elevated portions of their valleys, and I have slept more than once beside one of these streams, several hundred feet above sea level, without a mosquito bar, while the delightful trades," rustling through the trees above me, brought the murmur of the Caribbean surf miles away, to mingle with that of the stream.
