46 Annals of the Carnegie Museum. 



being taken. From here the valley and the heights of Chirua were 

 worked, as well as the valley of the Rio Ancha above the village, and 

 the foot-hills below it. 



For the continuation of the trip to San Miguel and the higher alti- 

 tudes, oxen were secured from the Indians of that village, negotia- 

 tions to that end having been made with the old chief Aragonesis. 

 It is a pleasant trip from Pueblo Viejo to San Miguel, the trail passing 

 almost entirely through open country up the Macotama Valley, so 

 that there is a constantly changing panorama of magnificent scenery. 

 I had gone up alone previously and selected a camp-site on the 

 plateau opposite the village, so that upon our arrival camp was rapidly 

 made. However, we spent the first night in the village itself, sleeping 

 in the " public house," reserved for travellers, and crossed over to 

 our camp early the next morning. Everything was made as snug as 

 possible, to be prepared for the icy wind which sweeps down the valley 

 during the night from the eternal snows above. We arrived at San 

 Miguel on March 23, at which time the village was practically deserted, 

 nearly all the inhabitants being far away in the mountains prepar- 

 ing land for the spring planting in April and May. However, we 

 were able to secure from the few who remained some fresh potatoes, 

 onions, squashes, aracache. and a few eggs, also panela, or crude 

 sugar, boiled down from caue-juice. Meat was unobtainable, and we 

 were perforce dependent on what edible birds we could kill and on 

 tinned meat brought from Santa Marta. 



Collecting conditions at San Miguel were very difficult. We were 

 camped in a deep valley, surrounded by grassy mountain slopes for the 

 greater part and with virgin forest far away; so far, indeed, that it 

 could not be reached in time to do any collecting and return the same 

 day. We were forced to pass many nights in some temporarily vacant 

 Indian hut or in the forest in order to get the early morning shoot- 

 ing, all of which meant climbing four or five thousand feet with a 

 load of twenty-five or thirty pounds, sleeping out, collecting until 

 noon, and then hurrying back to camp to care for the specimens se- 

 cured. Thus, Mrs. Carriker was left many nights entirely alone in 

 camp, while the writer and the native collector were off in the paramo, 

 or far away in the forest of the Cerro de Caracas. This arrangement 

 was made possible only because of the completely inoffensive nature 

 of the Indians, the like of which I have never seen before or since 



