Benee now crawled, stiff and cramped, out from his damp and dangerous hiding-place. He found a ford not far off, and after crossing, he set off once more at his swinging trot, and was soon supple and happy enough.
On and on he went all that day, to make up for lost time, and far into the starry night.
The hills were getting higher now, the valleys deeper and damper between, and stream after stream had to be forded.
It must have been long past eight o'clock when, just as Benee was beginning to long for food and rest, his eyes fell on a glimmering light at the foot of a high and dark precipice.
He warily ventured forward and found it proceeded from a shepherd's hut; inside sat the man himself, quietly eating a kind of thick soup, the basin flanked by a huge flagon of milk, with roasted yams. Great, indeed, was the innocent fellow's surprise when Benee presented himself in the doorway. A few words in Bolivian, kindly uttered by our wayfarer, immediately put the man at ease, however, and before long Benee was enjoying a hearty supper, followed by a brew of excellent maté.
He was a very simple son of the desert, this shepherd, but a desultory kind of conversation was maintained, nevertheless, until far into the night.
For months and months, he told Benee, he had lived all alone with his sheep in these grassy uplands, having only the companionship of his half-wild, but faithful dog. But he was contented and happy, and had plenty to eat and drink.
It was just sunrise when Benee awoke from a long refreshing sleep on his bed of skins. There was the odour of smoke all about, and presently the shepherd himself bustled in and bade him "Good-morning!", or "Heaven's blessing!" which is much the same.
A breakfast of rough, black cake, with butter, fried fish, and maté, made Benee as happy as a king and as fresh as a mountain trout, and soon after he said farewell and started once more on his weary road. The only regret he experienced rose from the fact that he had nothing wherewith to reward this kindly shepherd for his hospitality.
Much against his will, our wanderer had now to make a long detour, for not even a goat could have scaled the ramparts of rock in front of him.