ed not only the retainer, but the
firm and faithful friend, of his benefactor.

Guapo's feet were sandalled. His legs were naked up to the knees,
showing many an old scar received from the cactus plants and the thorny
bushes of acacia, so common in the mountain-valleys of Peru. A
tunic-like skirt of woollen cloth,--that home-made sort called
"bayeta,"--was fastened around his waist, and reached down to the knees;
but the upper part of his body was quite bare, and you could see the
naked breast and arms, corded with strong muscles, and covered with a
skin of a dark copper colour. The upper part of his body was naked only
when the sun was hot. At other times Guapo wore a species of poncho
like his master, but that of the Indian was of common stuff--woven out
of the coarse wool of the llama. His head was bare.

Guapo's features were thin, sharp, and intelligent. His eye was keen
and piercing; and the gait of the old man, as he strode along the rocky
path, told that it would be many years before he would show any signs of
feebleness or tottering.

There were four animals that carried our travellers and their effects.
One was a horse ridden by the boy Leon. The second was a saddle mule,
on which rode Dona Isidora and Leona. The other two animals were not
mounted. They were beasts of burden, with "yerguas," or pack-saddles,
upon which were carried the few articles that belonged to the
travellers. They, were the camels of Peru--the far-famed llamas. Don
Pablo, with his faithful retainer, travelled afoot.

You will wonder that one apparently so rich, and on so distant a
journey, was not provided with animals enough to carry his whole party.
Another horse at least, or a mule, might have been expected in the
cavalcade. It would not have been strange had Guapo only walked--as he
was the arriero, or driver, of the llamas--but to see Don Pablo afoot
and evidently tired, with neither horse nor mule to ride upon, was
something that required explanation. There was another fact that
required explanation. The countenance of Don Pablo wore an anxious
expression, as if some danger impended; so did that of the lady, and the
children were silent, with their little hearts full of fear. They knew
not _what_ danger, but they knew that their father and mother were in
trouble. The Indian, too, had a serious look; and at each angle of the
mountain road he and Don Pablo would turn around, and with anxious eyes
gaze back in the d