the traveler that the place was quite inaccessible for a white man,
and that he had risked his own neck a score of times in descending the
ravine which separated the route from the hillside where the fortunate
plants were growing. He promised, however, to point out the locality
from afar, and to show, by a certain changeable gloss proper to the
leaf, the precise stratum of the calisaya amongst the belts of the
forest. This promise he forgot to execute more particularly, but it
appeared that the locality would never be excessively hard to find,
marked as it was by Nature with the gigantic finger-post of Mount
Camanti. Placing, then, in security these precious specimens among
their baggage, the explorers continued their advance along the valley.

The footing was level and easy. Rocks and precipices were left behind,
and were displaced by a soft, slippery sort of sand, where from space
to space were planted, like so many oases in a desert, clumps of giant
reeds. By a strange but natural caprice these beds of rustling verdure
were cut in an infinity of well-defined geometric forms. Seen from an
eminence and at a distance, this arrangement gave a singular effect.
In the midst of these native garden-beds were cut distinct and narrow
alleys, where the drifting sands were packed like artificial paths.
It is unnecessary to add that the soft footways, notwithstanding
their advertisement of verdure and shade, proved to be of African
temperature.

The last hours of daylight surprised the travelers among the
labyrinths of these strange gardens. A suitable spot was chosen for
the halt. As the porters were preparing to throw down their packs,
Pepe Garcia, who marched ahead, announced the print of a South
American tiger. The first care of the Indians, on hearing this news,
was to send forth a horrible cry and to throng around the marks. The