“My dear fellow,” said the latter, “wait. You will encounter the mightiest mountains in the Western Hemisphere, mountains to dwarf your Rockies. You will disappear from all human habitation. You will cross trackless deserts; perhaps, you will find rivers never explored by white man. You may run foul of unconquered Indians. Perhaps, you may discover a new race. Anything is possible in this fascinating and little known land. All this that you see, all Santiago and Lima and our other cities—what, after all, is it? Nothing but the fringe of a vast continent. But, come, let us return, for this afternoon there will be something worth seeing.”
The prediction was borne out for, after luncheon, the band began to play and young folks from the estate appeared to dance the cueca. This is a dance peculiar to Chile, in which the dancers perform individually. It is reminiscent of other South American dances—the bolero, the habanera, the bambuco, the jota, the torbellino, and the fandango. It is danced with more grace and animation, and with deeper intensity than the tango, that dance peculiar to the Argentine.
“Look at that little Spanish senorita, Jack,” whispered Bob, mischievously, to his chum. “She certainly reminds me of your flame, Senorita Rafaela. Hey?”
Jack grinned at his comrade’s teasing. In reality, however, he never heard the name of Senorita Rafaela mentioned that he did not feel sentimental. And this dancing girl did have a coquettish lift of the fan, a twist of the head, a raising of the eyebrow, that reminded him of her. Senorita Rafaela, however, was far away, on the Mexican estate of her father, from whom Jack and Bob two years before had rescued Mr. Hampton when the latter was a political prisoner. It was no use to think of her now.
After the dance at the home, four hundred tenants, mounted on splendid horses, many with handsome Spanish saddles and spurs of silver, escorted the party to a nearby spot where two platforms had been erected for dancing. Here the men, young and old, participated in foot and horse races. Then the young folks went to dancing, while many barbecue fires for the cooking of meat were lighted, wine was distributed, and the tenants made festa. It was a truly patriarchal scene, and one never to be forgotten.
“This is a true example of life on the great Chilian estates,” Ferdinand told the boys, on their way back to Santiago.
CHAPTER IV—HO FOR THE ENCHANTED CITY!
“But, father, we thought you intended first to explore this town of Potosi for the buried treasure left there by the fugitive Incas before they fled to the South,” said Jack.