BRIDAL TRIP ON THE ANDES. 29 



One of our arrieros — a Quichua Indian — has his wife ; being just 

 married, they are very fond. This appears to be her bridal trip. Mounted 

 like a man, on a white horse, her blue dress and scarlet manto show 

 to advantage. She wears a straw hat, with broad ribband. Her hair, 

 after their custom, is plaited and hangs in two braids over her shoulders. 

 The Indians all salute her as she rides by, and has something pleasant 

 to say to both ; she bows and receives it smilingly, while he looks 

 modestly, and becomes very much engaged tat tending to his duties ; 

 while nearly out of sight, among the mountains, he is constantly talking 

 by her side. 



Over these rough road's the arrieros generally travel on foot. They 

 walk for days with more ease than the mules, and quite as fast. On the 

 plains they trot along after the baggage for hours at a time. Messages 

 from the governors and sub-prefects are often sent to the prefect by 

 Indians, on foot, rather than by horse or mule. The man cuts across 

 the mountains and delivers his despatches long before they could arrive 

 by the road. I believe the Indians prefer walking to riding. Sandals 

 protect their feet from the rocky and gravelly road, being at the same 

 time cool. Whatever they have to carry is fastened to the back, leav- 

 ing the arms free. Sometimes they have a short cane in one hand for 

 protection against dogs, or for support over steep, irregular paths. I 

 have seen them crawling on all fours, up hill. 



We expected an extended view over lands to the east of our range', 

 but when we arrived at the ridge in the gorge, we saw mountains be- 

 yond mountains, snow peaks and rocky rounded tops, deep valleys and 

 narrow* ravines, all thrown about in confused shapes. After travelling 

 for hours, we made leagues by the road ; yet the distance from the Pacific 

 to the Atlantic is short on our map. 



In the small town of Ocron, the people were threshing barley and 

 twisting bark into rope. A good-looking young man arose from the 

 rope-making party of men and women, and offered us a glass of chicha. 

 It seemed impolite to refuse a kind offer when the people do you a favor 

 and wish you to consider it as such, but I cannot drink it ; so declining 

 with thanks, we pass on leaving Jose, who naturally leans the chicha- 

 way. After a long descent, we encamped by a lonely house, enveloped 

 in foliage. At 3 p. m., thermometer, 73°. We have sand flies, mus- 

 quitos, bugs, bees, and humming-birds. The whole scene is changed to 

 mid-summer ; cotton grows upon small trees, so do peaches and chiri- 

 moyas. 



The Peruvian mail passed by from Lima on its way to the southern 



