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!"

"Well, what of the trees? Their shade will serve to screen us from the
night dew. We can sleep under them."

"Impossible, master--_they are poison trees_!"

"You are talking foolishly, Guapo. These are _molle_ trees."

"I know it, senor; but they are poison. If we sleep under them we shall
not awake in the morning--we shall awake no more."

And Guapo, as he uttered these words, looked horrified.

"This is nonsense; you are superstitious, old man. We must abide here.
See, the llamas have lain down. They will not move hence, I warrant."

Guapo turned to the llamas, and thinking that their movements might
influence the decision of his master, began to urge them in his
accustomed way. But it is a peculiarity of these creatures not to stir
one step beyond what they consider a proper journey. Even when the load
is above that which they are accustomed to carry--that is to say, 120
lbs.--neither voice nor whip will move them. They may be goaded to
death, but will not yield, and coaxing has a like effect. Both knew that
they had done their day's work; and the voice, the gesticulations and
blows of Guapo, were all in vain. Neither would obey him any longer. The
Indian saw this, and reluctantly consented to remain; at the same time
he continued to repeat his belief that they would all most certainly