guided them. They belonged to Guapo, who had not
been a mere servant, but a cultivator, and had held a small "chacra," or
farm, under Don Pablo. Guapo's voice was well known to the creatures,
and his "hist!" of encouragement urged them on. But fifteen miles was
an unusual journey, and the animals began to show symptoms of fatigue.
Their humming noise, which bears some resemblance to the tones of an
Eolian harp, boomed loud at intervals as the creatures came to a stop;
and then the voice of Guapo could be heard urging them forward.

The road led up a defile, which was nothing more than the bed of a
mountain-torrent, now dry. For a long distance there was no spot of
level ground where our travellers could have encamped, even had they
desired to stop. At length, however, the path led out of the
torrent-bed, and they found themselves on a small ledge, or table,
covered with low trees. These trees were of a peculiar kind, very
common in all parts of the Andes, and known as _molle_ trees. They are
more properly bushes than trees, being only about ten or twelve feet in
height. They have long delicate pinnate leaves, very like those of the
acacia, and, when in fruit, they are thickly covered with clusters of
small bright red berries. These berries are used among some tribes of
Indians for making a highly valuable and medicinal beer; but the wood of
the tree is of more importance to the people of those parts as an
article of fuel, because the tree grows where other wood is scarce. It
is even considered by the sugar-refiners as the best for their purpose,
since its ashes, possessing highly alkaline properties, are more
efficient than any other in purifying the boiling juice of the
sugar-cane. The leaves of this beautiful tree, when pressed, emit a
strong aromatic smell; and a very curious property ascribed to it by the
more ignorant people of the mountains will be illustrated by the
dialogue which follows:--

"Let us pass the night here," said Don Pablo, halting, and addressing
himself to Guapo. "This level spot will serve us to encamp. We can
sleep under the shade of the bushes."

"What! _mi amo_! (my master) Here?" replied the Indian, with a gesture
of surprise.

"And why not here? Can any place be better? If we again enter the
defile we may find no other level spot. See! the llamas will go no
farther. We must remain therefore."

"But, master," continued Guapo--"see!"

"See what?"

"The trees, master!