CHAPTER XV.
THE GUACO AND THE CORAL SNAKE.
It was Guapo himself that killed the llamas, and, having skinned them, he cut the flesh into thin strips, and hung it upon the branches to dry in the sun. This, of course, was necessary, as they had no salt to cure it with; but meat well dried under a hot sun will keep good for a long time. It is curious, that in all Spanish-American countries they preserve most of their meat in this way, whereas in North America, among the people of our own race, “jerked beef” (for that is the name we give it) is very rare.
Now, in Spanish-America there are vast depositories of salt—both in mines and on plains, with salt lakes—called salinas; yet, for want of a proper commercial activity existing among these people, in many places the valuable article, salt, is both scarce and dear. In Mexico dried or “jerked” beef is called “tasajo.” In Peru, as we have stated, it is “charqui;” but mutton cured in this way is distinguished by the name “chalona.” Now as the llamas are a species of sheep, it was “chalona” that Guapo was making out of their mutton.
The others were not idle; Don Pablo, assisted by Leon, was clearing a place on which they intended to build the house, while the Doña Isidora, with her soft slender fingers (for the first time in her life, perhaps), was acting as laundress, and the little Leona assisted her as much as she was able. Where did they get their soap, for they had not brought so much as a single cake along with them?
But Don Pablo was too good a botanist not to know the nature of the trees that grew around, and the uses to which they could be applied. Near by grew a curious tree, which is known among the Indians as the parapara. It was the soap-berry of botanists and Don Pablo knew that the bark of the berries, when rubbed, produces a lather that will wash linen equal to the best “Castile.” Doña Isidora was not long in making a trial of it, and found this to be true. The little round stones of the berries, when cleared of the pulp, are very pretty, and are much used by the missionaries in making rosaries. Leon found, dropping one of them on a stone, that it was as elastic as a ball of India rubber, for it rebounded several times the height of a man's head!
In the evening they all rested from their various occupations, and seated themselves upon the new-cleared ground, upon the trunk of a tree that had been felled. They were one and all quite cheerful. They felt no more apprehension of pursuit. It would have been a very revengeful enemy, indeed, who would have followed them so far into the wilderness. They had no fear of that. Doña Isidora had just cooked a kettle of coffee—they had both pots and kettles, for these were some of the utensils with which Guapo, even in the hurry of flight, had taken the precaution to load his llamas.
This coffee turned out to be of the finest quality. It was of a peculiar species, which has long been cultivated by the missionaries of Peru, and which yields a very high price. It used to be sent by the viceroys as a valued present to the kings of Spain. To sweeten the coffee some joints of sugar-cane had been crushed, and boiled in a rough manner; and for bread they had roasted plantains. During the repast they were all quite merry, and pleasant jokes were passed for the first time in many days.
While thus engaged a singular sound fell upon their ears. It was like a voice repeating the word “Guaco!” They all listened. “Guaco—Guaco!” again came the voice.
“Hola!” cried Leon, “Guapo—Guapo! there's some one calling you, Guapo. There again!—no—it's 'Guaco'—listen! Guaco—Guaco' What is it, I wonder?”