evated regions of the Puna, where neither ocas, ullucas,
nor potatoes, will thrive. They are cultivated by the inhabitants, and
in many parts constitute almost the only food of these wretched people.
They have an agreeable and rather sweetish flavour, and, when boiled in
milk, taste somewhat like boiled chestnuts. They can be preserved for
more than a year by simply drying them in the sun, and then exposing
them to the cold air, when they become hard and shrivelled. They thrive
best in this high region, for although they will grow in the lower
valleys, they are there very insipid and worthless. The Indians prepare
them for food by boiling them into a soup, or syrup, which is taken with
parched maize-corn.

Guapo knew that he had got his hands upon a bag of dried macas, and
although their owner was absent, he had already come to the
determination to appropriate them for himself and party. His joy at the
discovery had not subsided when another bag drew his attention, and this
was the signal for another delightful surprise. His hand touched the new
bag in a trice. There was a rattling sound within. Peas? No--maize.

"Good!" ejaculated Guapo; "maize and macas! That with what is left of
the charqui--we shall not fast to-night."

Guapo now backed himself out of the hut, and joyfully announced the
discoveries he had made. The travellers dismounted. The horse and mule
were picketed on lassoes on the plain. The llamas were left to go at
will. They would not stray far from their owner.

It was piercing cold in this highland region. Dona Isidora and the
children entered the hut, while Don Pablo and Guapo remained without for
the purpose of collecting fuel. There was not a stick of wood, as no
trees of any sort grew near. Both strayed off upon the plain to gather
the _taquia_, or ordure of the cattle, though no cattle were in sight.
Their tracks, however, were visible all around.

While engaged thus, the old Indian suddenly raised himself from his
stooping position with an exclamation that betokened alarm. What had
startled him? A loud bellowing was heard--it was the bellowing of a
bull. But what was there in that sound to alarm two full-grown men? Ah!
you know not the bulls of the Puna.

Coming around a promontory of rocks a large black bull was in sight. He
was approaching them in full run, his head thrown down, his eyes glaring
fiercely. At every spring he uttered a roar, which was terrific to hear.
A more horrid object it