28 IN THE WILDS OF SOUTH AMERICA 



any tidings? I could have, but I did not. By a strange 

 and inexplicable coincidence I knew that her son had not 

 left the country. Instead of going to the coast he had 

 engaged in one of the revolutions common enough at that 

 time and had been captured and shot; but what right had 

 I to remove the only support that maintained the spark of 

 life in her aged body? It was only the hope of seeing her 

 boy again that gave her the strength to resist the onslaught 

 of advancing years. Doubtless, she still waits, hoping 

 against hope for the message that will never come. Hers 

 is the mother-love that never despairs. How clearly it 

 shows that human nature is very much the same the world 

 over, even among the lowly ! 



On June 23 I was fortunate enough, while in Popayan, to 

 behold one of the religious celebrations formerly all too nu- 

 merous in Latin America. It was the Fiesta del Sagrado 

 Corazon de Jesus. Troops of soldiers and bands were lined 

 up in front of the cathedral; all were quiet and orderly 

 while the sacred rites were being performed within. Sud- 

 denly the doors burst open, bells boomed and jingled, and 

 the contents of the vast church poured through the portals 

 in a steady stream. First came the altar-boys in white 

 surplices and red cassocks, carrying gilded crosses on long 

 poles and lighted tapers in silver holders, followed by the 

 small children, the girls with tinsel wings, resembling tiny 

 angels. Then came the governor of Cauca, the prefect of 

 Popayan and their staffs, each bearing a standard. Next 

 in line were the maidens, covered with large black shawls, 

 or mantas, with folded hands and downcast eyes which, 

 however, they were not averse to raising to meet the admir- 

 ing glances cast by some of the onlookers. The students 

 from the seminaries and a choir of singers preceded a life- 

 size statue of the patron of the feast, borne aloft on the 

 shoulders of stalwart youths; then came the archbishop 

 and the higher ecclesiastics in tall mitres and gorgeously 

 embroidered and glittering robes. Those of the general 

 public who chose to march fell in line behind the bands that 



