86 THE ANDES OF SOUTHERN PERU 



they may die or become so weakened that tuberculosis carries 

 them off. Only their rugged strength enables the greater number 

 to return in good health. 



A plantation may be as large as a principality and draw its 

 laborers from places fifty miles away. Some of the more distant 

 Indians need not come to work in the canefields. Part of their 

 flock is taken in place of work. Or they raise horses and mules 

 and bring in a certain number each year to turn over to the 

 patron. Hacienda Huadquina (Fig. 46) takes in all the land from 

 the snow-covered summits of the Cordillera Vilcapampa to the 

 canefields of the Urubamba. Within the broad domain are half 

 the climates and occupations characteristic of Peru. It is diffi- 

 cult to see how a thousand Indians can be held to even a mixed 

 allegiance. It seems impossible that word can be got to them. 

 However the native "telegraph" is even more perfect than that 

 among the forest Indians. From one to the other runs the news 

 that they are needed in the canefields. On the trail to and from 

 a mountain village, in their ramblings from one high pasture to 

 another, within the dark walls of their stone and mud huts when 

 they gather for a feast or to exchange drinks of brandy and 

 chicha — the word is passed that has come up from the valleys. 



For every hundred faena Indians there are five or six regular 

 laborers on the plantations, so with the short term passed by the 

 faena Indians their number is generally half that of the total 

 laborers at work at any one time. They live in huts provided for 

 them by the planter, and in the houses of their friends among the 

 regular laborers. Here there are almost nightly carousals. The 

 regular laborer comes from the city or the valley town. The faena 

 laborer is a small hill farmer or shepherd. They have much to 

 exchange in the way of clothing, food, and news. I have fre- 

 quently had their conversations interpreted for me. They ask 

 about the flocks and the children, who passed along the trails, what 

 accidents befell the people. 



"Last year," droned one to another over their chicha, "last 

 year we lost three lambs in a hailstorm up in the high fields near 

 the snow. It was very cold. My foot cracked open and, though 



