So it happened that at nine o’clock they again departed from Huari, but this time they were four in number, instead of three. When beyond the confines of the village the travellers from the coast were surprised at being addressed by their new friend in the English tongue.
“I did not know you could speak our language,” exclaimed Ferguson.
“It has been long since I have used it,” was the reply, “or I should have a better accent and vocabulary. For ten years, until I was seventeen, I lived in New York City; but that was thirty-five years ago, and since then I have only met Englishmen and Americans occasionally.”
“Why didn’t you let us know before that you could speak English?”
“Because you are excellent Spanish scholars; and as my wife has not enjoyed the same advantages that I have, I prefer to converse in the tongue with which she is familiar. Now that we are away from Huari, however, and by ourselves, I should be very glad to use only the English and learn from you that which I have forgotten.”
They found the señor a most pleasant companion and also a valuable addition to the party. On the trip from Chicla to Huari, after the edibles which were stored in their knapsacks had been exhausted, they were compelled to live on game, and the diet became monotonous. But Señor Cisneros added to the daily bill of fare materially by his knowledge of the Peruvian vegetable world. He cut tender shoots from a certain palm tree, which, when boiled, tasted something like the northern cauliflower; from a vine that grew in and out the long grass, he made an excellent substitute for spinach: before he joined them they had feared to eat berries, not knowing which were poisonous; now they were able to enjoy a dessert of fruit after every meal. Their cooking utensils had also been added to at Huari, a pot among other articles, and in this the novel vegetables were cooked.
In lieu of a knapsack the Peruvian was provided with two commodious bags made of llama skins, which were fastened together by a broad strip of hide by which they depended from his shoulders. He carried a rifle of the muzzle-loading description, an old-time powder horn and bullet-pouch. He proved himself as good a shot as Ferguson, and a pleasant rivalry soon sprang up between the two.
Old Huayno had told them to push ahead for three days from Huari, to the forest of cinchona trees, and find the head waters of the Marañon, one of the rivers that are tributary to the Amazon.
At its source this stream is very small, and the travellers from Callao had wondered how they might recognize it from others, and had regarded this stage of the journey with some apprehension, lest they might fail in reaching the river on which the great white rock was located. But Señor Cisneros knew exactly the course to take, and without aid of compass he directed their steps.
“We shall be longer than three days on this journey,” he said. “Your Indian friend reckoned the distance as it was covered by those of his tribe who were able to move much more swiftly than we can with our numerous burdens. We shall be five days, rather than three.”