Thinking it best to answer frankly (with one or two reservations), I said
that, having heard much of South America while campaigning in Spain, I had
made up my mind to voyage thither on the first opportunity.

"What! you have served in Spain, in the army of Lord Wellington!"
interposed the commandant with great vivacity.

"Yes; I joined shortly before the battle of Salamanca, where I was
wounded. I was also at Vittoria, and--"

"So was I. I commanded a regiment in Murillo's _corps d'armée_, and have
come out with him to Colombia. We are brothers in arms. We have both bled
in the sacred cause of Spanish independence. Let me embrace you."

Whereupon the commandant, springing from his hammock, put his arms round
my neck and his head on my shoulders, patted me on the back, and kissed me
on both cheeks, a salute which I thought it expedient to return, though
his face was not overclean and he smelled abominably of garlic and stale
tobacco.

"So you have come to see South America--only to see it!" he said. "But
perhaps you are scientific; you have the intention to explore the country
and write a book, like the illustrious Humboldt?"

The idea was useful. I modestly admitted that I did cultivate a little
science, and allowed my "brother-in-arms" to remain in the belief that I
proposed to follow in the footsteps of the author of "Cosmos"--at a
distance.

"I have an immense respect for science," continued the commandant, "and I