INDIAN PROCESSION. 



1*17 



seeds from a bag of raw cotton. She gave us a specimen, but said she 

 did not know whence it came. From her external appearance, we 

 judged she had not travelled much about the country. 



The house stands on a barren plain ; not a living thing to be seen 

 growing, except a short tuft of grass here and there. The post-dogs 

 are miserably poor. The baggage-mules look as if they ate round 

 stones and drank bad water. As the dogs and children came to us for 

 supper, we are at a loss to know how it is the old woman keeps so enor- 

 mously fat. Possibly upon happiness, for she seems perfectly contented. 



It has been a matter of surprise how the globe is so well balanced, 

 while the greatest proportion of land appears on the north side of the 

 equator. After a view of the lofty mountains, corpulent bishops, and 

 portly postwomen, it seems more comprehensible. 



We are now travelling on the edge of the Titicaca basin. The water 

 on the west side of us flows into the Desaguedero river, and that on the 

 east side into the Beni. The rich copper district lies to the west of us, 

 near the Desaguedero. There is snow on the mountains in all directions, 

 the Illimani appearing high up in the east. Three vicunas were pas- 

 turing with some sheep near our path. At the small town of Calamarca, 

 at 4 p. in-, thermometer, 48° ; wet bulb, 40°. A rain-storm from south- 

 east, accompanied with thunder and lightning, hauled round by south 

 to the west, when the small drops of rain became frozen, and fell in 

 hailstones, the size of very small peas ; after which the whole country 

 in sight was covered with snow. 



The • scene is a cold and dreary one, made more so by the strange 

 noise of wind instruments and drums in the plaza, as the Indians march 

 through the church after the storm, dancing with war-clubs at the 

 doors, while a cracked bell chimes a deafening summons to prayers. 

 The wind instruments are made of a succession of reeds of different 

 sizes and lengths, upon which they blow a noise, little resembling music 

 to our ear, keeping time with the drummers, the slow-motioned dancers 

 respecting them both. The Indians are dressed in large feathered hats, 

 white cotton shirts, short trousers, decorated about the knees with red, 

 blue, and white ribbons, while one in deep black walks before the pro- 

 cession in the character of drummajor. Except a priest, not a creole 

 face was to be seen. 



In the morning the procession marched into the patio of the post-house. 

 After they had played and danced some time, the Indian women came 

 out, and being joined by the postillions, formed a ring inside the musi- 

 cians, and the dance was continued. We seated ourselves, with our tin 

 pots of tea, in the doorway, looking on. After the dance, the women 



