common were the words of Spanish with which the palaver was thickly
interlarded. This was the first time the interpreters were put on
their mettle in a strictly professional sense, and the test was not
altogether triumphant. However, by a careful raising of the voice
in all difficult passages, and a wild, expressive pantomime, an
understanding was arrived at.

The visitors belonged to the tribe of Siriniris, inhabiting the space
comprised between the valleys of Ocongate and Ollachea, and extending
eastwardly as far as the twelfth degree. They lived at peace with
their neighbors, the Huat-chipayris and the Pukiris. For several days
the reports of the Christian guns (_tasa-tasa_) had advertised them
of the presence of white men in the valley, and, curious to judge of
their numbers, they had approached. They had formed a cunning escort
to the party, always faithful but never seen, since the encampment
at Maniri: every camping-ground since that particular bivouac they
faithfully described. They were, of course, in particular and direful
need of _sirutas_ and _bambas_ (knives and hatchets), but their fears
of the _tasa-tasa_, or guns, was still stronger than their desires,
and their courage had not, until they saw the strangers domiciled as
guests in their own habitations, attained the firmness and consistency
necessary for a personal approach. The three dancing ambassadors were
ministers plenipotentiary on the part of their tribe, located in a
bamboo metropolis five miles off.

The white men could not well avoid laying down their _tasa-tasa_ and
disbursing _sirutas_ and _bambas_. The savages, after this triumph
of diplomacy, suddenly turned, and, thrusting their fingers in their
mouths, emitted a shrill note, which had the effect of enchanting the
forest of rushes across the river, and causing it to give birth to a