inter is
beginning unusually early this year. Had we been a few days later we
should not have got through at all, and if it begins to snow it may go ill
with us, even yet. But to-morrow the worst will be over."

The cacique had so far behaved very well, treating me as a friend and an
equal, and doing all he could for my comfort. His men treated me as a
superior. Gondocori said very little about his country, still less about
Queen Mamcuna, whom he also called "Great Mother." To my frequent
questions on these subjects he made always the same answer: "Patience, you
will see."

He did, however, tell me that his people called their country Pachatupec
and themselves Pachatupecs, that the Spaniards had never subdued them or
even penetrated into the fastnesses where they dwelt, and that they spoke
the ancient language of Peru.

Gondocori admitted that his mother was a Christian, and to her he no doubt
owed his notions of religion and the regularity of his features. She had
been carried off as he meant to carry off the seven maidens of the Happy
Valley, for the _misterios_ had a theory that a mixture of white and
Indian blood made the finest children and the boldest warriors. But white
wives being difficult to obtain, _mestiza_ maidens had generally to be
accepted, or rather, taken in their stead.

We rose before daybreak and were in the saddle at dawn. The ground and the
streams are hard frozen, and the path is so slippery that the trembling
mules dare scarcely put one foot before the other, and our progress is
painfully slow. We are in a broad, stone-strewed valley, partly covered
with withered puma-grass, on which a flock of graceful _vicunas_ are
quietly grazing, as seemingly unconscious of our presence as the great
condors which soar above the snowy peaks that look down on the plain.

As we leave the valley, through a pass no wider than a gateway, the
cacique gives me a word of warning.

"The part we are coming to is the most dangerous of all," he said. "But it
is, fortunately, not long. Two hours will bring us to a sheltered valley.
And now leave everything to your mule. If you feel nervous shut your eyes,
but as you value your life neither tighten your reins nor try to guide
him."

I repeat this caution to Gahra, and ask how he feels.

"Much better, senor; the sunshine has given me new life. I feel equal to
anything."

And now we have to travel once more in single file, for the path runs
along a mountain spur a