Señor Cisneros shook his head. “Perhaps there is gold,” he said, “but I have found no trace of any.”
Then he told that for years he had been engaged in silver-mining, and that his llama trains passed over the road which they had travelled.
“When the railroad pierces the interior,” he continued, “there will be much profit made by those who extract metals from the ground, but with the present method of transportation one does well to gain a livelihood.”
The señora was very anxious to hear about Lima. She had been there once, but only for a few days, soon after her marriage.
After a time the host ordered hammocks swung on the veranda, and in these Hope-Jones, Ferguson, and Harvey rested until a few minutes before dinner. It seemed good to sit down in chairs, at a table, and to taste other food than the game and fruits of the woods, to say nothing of having crockery dishes to eat from instead of the tin plates. They were early in bed, and after a refreshing night’s sleep between sheets, which, though coarse, were cool and clean, they awoke with renewed determination to continue their journey.
But while they were enjoying more of the señor’s delicious coffee—heated this time—rain commenced to fall; huge drops came in sheets and leaden clouds hung low; so they were nothing loath to accept an urgent invitation to remain another day and night. Señora Cisneros, learning of the scant stock of clothing they had taken with them, insisted upon overhauling their knapsacks, and she passed several hours of the morning with needle and thread, darning and mending. In the afternoon she packed them some food from her well-stocked larder, sufficient to last and add variation to their mountain bill of fare for several days.
The next morning dawned warm and bright, and the adventurers started early, after thanking host and hostess time and again; and they promised themselves the pleasure of a longer visit on their return. They were passing from the town and were waving their caps to Señor Cisneros, who had accompanied them to the outskirts, when Ferguson said:—
“He’s a splendid fellow. I wish he were going with us.”
“So do I,” said Hope-Jones. “He would be a jolly companion.”
Harvey came suddenly to a halt.