aws of the realm, or the bullets of the
soldiers."

The other Spaniards seemed to partake of the alarm of the padre; and as
we rode along, I saw them casting anxious glances around, as if they
expected every moment to see the robbers start out from behind the rocks
which skirted the road. After we had proceeded some distance, my father
called a halt, and summoning the guides, he inquired whether they were
acquainted with a road to the right, which he described. They replied
that they were, but that it was longer and more difficult.

"Never mind," he replied; "it is the road I intend to pursue. I shall
be glad of the company of those who wish to journey with me."

Though he did not give his reasons, the Spaniards saw that he had good
cause for his change of route, and agreed to accompany us. They
probably, however, attributed it to the Montoneros; as I observed that
the expression of apprehension on their countenances gradually wore off,
and they no longer cast the same furtive glances at every bush and rock
as before.

We travelled along the valley for many miles, sometimes passing over a
high ridge, and then again descending to follow up the course of some
stream which had its birth among the snowy ranges above us. My father
had formed the party into military order. Four armed men took the lead,
then came the baggage mules, while the main body of those on horseback
brought up the rear.

For three or four days we travelled on, each night sleeping at one of
the wretched _tambos_ kept by Indians, similar to that I have before
described. Every day we mounted higher and higher, the scenery becoming
more wild, barren, and desolate. We were now traversing that part of
the Cordilleras called the Puna, a region of level heights, some
fourteen thousand feet above the sea; nearly the only vegetation being a
short, dark yellow grass, scarcely a tree or a shrub to be seen, except
cacti, gentiana, and a few other flowering plants. There were animals,
however, in abundance--vicunas, huanacus, stags, and rock-rabbits; while
condors and other birds of prey hovered aloft, ready to pounce down on
any carcase they might scent from afar. We next entered the region of
the Sierra, the name given to the extensive valleys which either
intersect the Puna, or lie between the Cordilleras and the Andes. These
valleys are generally some thousand feet below the Puna, and the climate
is very pure and healthy. The soil is also very fe