100 
of a tree. And, as they move, each friction point tries to outdo 
the others in groans and creaks, while the drivers cry, “ Utsa! 
Utsa!, Hi! hi!” or “he! he! he!” as the occasion warrants. Sev- 
eral dried oxhides serve as a bed or body to hold the baggage and 
keep it dry when a swamp or a creek is crossed. When the water 
gets too deep, these carts float and the oxen swim. 
Through forests one travels with a motley caravan of half- 
naked, sweat-streaming, steaming barefoot Indian porters, each of 
which carries from 50 to 100 pounds. And it was in this manner 
that we journeyed to the other pampa region mentioned above, 
stopping at the Indian villages of Tumupassa and Ixiamas, the 
whole trip covering about three weeks. Along this forest trail the 
ground vegetation was largely a carpet of ferns and low-growing 
Acanthaceae with colored leaves, recalling some forms of coleus. 
On the flanks of some of the mountains were immense bamboo 
thickets. Among the more interesting forest trees were three or 
four fruit trees particularly worthy of note. Their Indian-Spanish 
names were nut, camaruru, uva del monte, and durasno del monte. 
The nui possibly is related to the cherries and is certainly one of 
the best wild fruits we found. When I once asked an Indian 
what the best fruit in these parts was, he answered immediately 
“El nui, senor.” It reminds one of a small juicy plum, sparsely 
covered with small hairs, perhaps an eighth of an inch long. The 
single seed is about the size and form of a pistachio nut and the 
juicy pulp is a sprightly sweet or sub-acid. Both yellow and red 
fruited forms occur, but the red is the better flavored. The 
camaruru in season is often offered you on entering an Indian 
house as a sign of hospitality, and its deep yellow-papillated, sub- 
acid, gelatinous-fleshed fruits are very refreshing on a hot day, 
even though the two or three seeds are so large that but slight 
accommodation remains for flesh. Uva del monte means “ grape 
of the forest,” and the heart-shaped blue fruits with their sweet 
gelatinous flesh do remind one of grapes, though the tree they 
grow on is probably a relative of the elms and nettles. Along the 
path one day, as we traveled, one of our porters picked up a fuzzy- 
skinned fruit reminding me very much, as to size and shape, of a 
peach, and the native name is durasno del monte, Bolivian-Spanish 
