llama-wool
poncho around him; and, leaning back against the rock, was soon buried
in a profound slumber.

CHAPTER V.

THE PUNA.

By early dawn Guapo was awake, but he did not immediately awake the
others. It was still too dark to follow the mountain road. His first
care was to have his coca breakfast, and to this he applied himself at
once.

Day was fairly broke when he had ended the process of mastication, and
he bethought him of descending from the rock to arouse the sleepers. He
knew they still slept, as no voice had yet issued from the grove of
molles. The mule and horse were heard cropping the grass, and the llamas
were now feeding upon an open spot,--the first they had eaten since
their halt, as these creatures do not browse in the night.

Guapo descended with fear in his heart. How it would have joyed him to
hear the voice of his master, or of any of them! But, no. Not a sound
proceeded from any one of the party. He stole nimbly along the ledge,
making his way through the molle trees. At length he reached the spot.
All asleep?--yes, all! "Are they dead?" thought Guapo, and his heart
beat with anxiety. Indeed, they seemed so. The fatigue of travel had
cast a sickly paleness over the faces of all, and one might easily have
fancied they no longer lived. But they breathed. "Yes, they breathe!"
ejaculated the old Indian, half aloud. "They live!"

Guapo bent down, and seizing Don Pablo by the arm, shook him--at first
gently, uttering, at the same time, some words to awake him. But neither
the shaking nor the voice had any effect. Guapo shook more violently,
and shouted louder. Still Don Pablo slept. None of the others
moved--none of them heard him. It was strange, for the Indian knew that
Don Pablo himself, as well as the others, were easily awaked on ordinary
occasions. Guapo, becoming alarmed, now raised his voice to its loudest
pitch, at the same time dragging Don Pablo's shoulder in a still more
violent manner. This had the desired effect. The sleeper awoke but so
slowly, and evidently with such exertion, that there was something
mysterious in it.

"What is it?" he inquired, with half-opened eyes. "Is it morning
already?"

"The sun is up. Rouse, my master! It is time we were on the road,"
replied the Indian.

"I feel very drowsy--I am heavy--I can scarce keep my eyes open. What
can be the cause of this?"

"The poison-trees, master," answered Guapo.

The answer seemed to impress Don Pablo. He