urtain them, and the
voices of the puma and the jaguar for their lullaby.

Strange to say, in crossing the higher parts of the Andes not one of the
party suffered from the rarity of the air. Many travellers experience
sickness, giddiness, and extreme exhaustion from this cause in those
regions. Some have even died of the effects experienced at the greater
heights, yet neither Manuela, nor Lawrence, nor Quashy was affected in
the slightest degree. We can assign no reason for their exemption--can
only state the fact. As for the guide, he was in this matter--as,
indeed, he seemed to be in everything--invulnerable.

One afternoon, as they rode along a mountain track enjoying the
sunshine, which at that hour was not too warm, Lawrence pushed up
alongside of the guide.

"It seems to me," he said, "that we are wandering wonderfully far out of
our way just now. We have been going due north for several days; at
least so my pocket compass tells me, and if my geography is not greatly
at fault, our backs instead of our faces are turned at present towards
Buenos Ayres. I do not wish to pry into your secrets, Senhor Pedro, but
if it is not presuming too much I should like to know when we shall
begin to move in the direction of our journey's end."

"There is neither presumption nor impropriety in your wish," returned
the guide. "I told you at starting that we should pursue a devious
route, for reasons which are immaterial to you, but there is no reason
why I should not explain that at present I am diverging for only a few
miles from our track to visit a locality--a cottage--which is sacred to
me. After that we will turn eastward until we reach the head-waters of
streams that will conduct us towards our journey's end."

With this explanation he was obliged to rest content, for Pedro spoke
like one who did not care to be questioned. Indeed there was an
unusually absent air about him, seeing which Lawrence drew rein and fell
back until he found himself alongside of Quashy.

Always ready--nay, eager--for sympathetic discourse, the negro received
his young master with a bland, expansive, we might almost say effusive,
smile.

"Well, massa, how's you gittin' along now?"

"Pretty well, Quashy. How do you?"

"Oh! fuss-rate, massa--only consid'rable obercome wid surprise."

"What surprises you?"

"De way we's agwine, to be sure. Look dar." He pointed towards the
towering mountain peaks and wild precipices that closed in