“Our mules,” continued Don José, “are of no further use, for it would be almost impossible for them to make their way amid the tangled forest through which we must pass. We will therefore send them back to a solitary rancho or farm, the proprietor of which is my friend, where they will remain in safety till better times, when they can be forwarded to their owners.”
This plan being agreed on, the animals were unloaded, and our native attendants set to work to build huts, which might afford us sufficient shelter for the night. We all helped; but we found that they were so much more expert, that they had erected three huts while we had not finished one. Long stakes were first cut down. Two of them were driven into the ground and joined at their top, and about twelve feet beyond them, other two were driven in, and connected by a long pole. Against this a number of stakes were arranged to serve as rafters. Meantime a quantity of large palm-leaves had been procured, which were attached to the rafters by thin sipos or vines, beginning at the bottom, so that they overlapped each other in the fashion of tiles. They were so neatly and securely fastened, that it was evident the heaviest shower would not penetrate them. In a short time we had seven or eight of these huts up, sufficient to accommodate the whole of the party. The natives then descending into the forest, brought back a quantity of wood, which they had cut from a tree which they called sindicaspi, which means the “wood that burns.” We found it answer its character; for though it was perfectly green, and just brought out of the damp forest, no sooner was fire put to it than it blazed up as if it had been long dried in the sun.
We were still at a considerable elevation, where there was but little of animal life. Even here, however, beautiful humming-birds flew among the bushes. They seemed very like the hill-stars we had seen at Chimborazo—wonderful little feathered gems; but they flew so rapidly about that it was difficult to distinguish their appearance. Now a gleam of one bright colour caught the eye, now another. Now, as they passed, all their hues were blended into one.
“I should so like to have some of those beautiful little creatures as pets,” said Ellen. “I wonder if they could be tamed!”
“No doubt about it,” said Don José. “The difficulty is to catch them first. But, small as they are, they are in no degree timid; and if you could take some of them young, you would find that they would willingly feed off your hand; but, bold and brave, they love freedom, and will not consent to live in captivity. Perhaps Isoro may catch some for you. He knows all the birds and beasts of this region, and trees and herbs, as, at one time, did all the people of our race. The study of God’s works is a truly noble one, and such the enlightened Incas considered it; and therefore it was the especial study of young chiefs in bygone days. But, alas! in these times of our degeneracy, in that, as in many other points, we are grievously deficient compared to our ancestors.”
“Oh, thank you,” said Ellen. “I shall indeed be obliged to Isoro if he can show me how to tame some of these beautiful little birds.”
“I would rather have one of those fellows I see perched on yonder pinnacle,” observed Arthur, pointing to a rock at some distance, whence a huge condor, with outspread wings, was about to take flight. “What a grand thing it would be to get on his back, and make him fly with one over the mountain-tops. He looks big and strong enough to do it.”
“I am afraid that, with all his strength, he would find it a hard matter to lift a heavy youth like you from the ground,” observed Don José. “Yet even a condor can be tamed, and if he is well fed, becomes satisfied with his lot. Large as he is, he is a mean creature, and a coward.”
While Don José was speaking, the condor came flying by. Not a movement of his wings was perceptible. We hallooed and clapped our hands.
“He seems not to hear our voices,” I observed.