ield three crops of
leaves in one year--that is, a crop every four months; and one hundred
plants will produce about an arroba (25 lbs.) at a crop. The coca-plant
will continue to give fresh leaves for a long period of years, unless
attacked and destroyed by ants, which is not unfrequently the case.

Now, why have I so minutely described the coca-bush? Because, that, in
the economy of the life of those Indians who inhabit the countries of
the Andes mountains, this curious plant plays a most important part.
Scarcely one of these people is to be met with who is not an eater of
cocoa--a "coquero." With them it is what the tea-tree is to the Chinese.
Indeed, it is a curious fact, that in all parts of the world some
stimulating vegetable is used by the human race. Tea in China; the
betel-leaf, and the nut of the areca palm, among the Southern Asiatics;
the poppy in the East; with tobacco, and many like things, in other
countries.

But the coca not only supplies the Indian with a solace to his cares, it
forms the chief article of his food. With a supply of coca, an Indian
will support himself five or six days without eating anything else. The
poor miners, in the Peruvian mines, are all "coqueros;" and it is
alleged that, without coca, they would be unable to undergo the painful
toil to which their calling subjects them. When used to excess, the coca
produces deleterious effects on the human system; but, if moderately
taken, it is far more innocent in its results than either opium or
tobacco.

The coca-leaf is not eaten alone. A certain preparation is necessary,
and another substance is mixed with it before it produces the proper
effect. But let us watch the movements of Guapo, and we shall see how
_he_ does it, for Guapo is a confirmed coquero.

Guapo, true to his promise, does not sleep under the molle trees. He
leaves the party, and, with a melancholy air, has climbed up and seated
himself upon a projecting rock, where he intends to pass the night. His
last glance at Don Pablo and his family was one of foreboding. He had
again remonstrated with his master, but to no purpose. The latter only
laughed at the earnestness of the old Indian, and told him to go to his
perch and leave the party to themselves.

It was still grey light when Guapo climbed up to the rock. Against the
sky his tall, lank form could be traced in all its outlines. For some
moments he sat in a serious and reflective mood--evidently busy with
thoughts