THE POISON-TREES.
Following the rugged and winding path, the travellers had climbed to a
height of many thousand feet above the ocean level. There was very
little vegetation around them. Nothing that deserved the name of tree,
if we except a few stunted specimens of queñoa trees, and here and there
patches of the Ratanhia shrub, which covered the hill-sides. Both these
are used by the mountain Indians as fuel, but the Ratanhia is also a
favourite remedy against dysentery and blood-spitting. Its extract is
even exported to European countries, and is to be found in the shop of
the apothecary.
Now and then a beautiful species of locust was seen with its bright red
flowers. It was the "Sangre de Christo" of the Peruvian _flora_.
Don Pablo Romero was a naturalist, and I may here tell you a pleasant
and interesting fact--which is, that many of the earliest patriots and
revolutionists of Spanish America were men who had distinguished
themselves in natural science--in fact, were the "savans" of these
countries. I call this a pleasant fact, and you may deem it a curious
one too, because men of science are usually lovers of peace, and not
accustomed to meddle either in war or politics.
But the truth of the matter is this,--under the government of the
viceroys all books, except those of a monkish religion, were jealously
excluded from these countries. No political work whatever was permitted
to be introduced; and the people were kept in the grossest ignorance of
their natural rights. It was only into learned institutions that a
glimmering of the light of freedom found its way, and it was amongst the
professors of these institutions that the "rights of men" first began to
be discussed. Many of these noble patriots were the first victims
offered up on the altar of Spanish-American independence.
Don Pablo, I have said, was a naturalist; and it was perhaps the first
journey he had ever made without observing attentively the natural
objects that presented themselves along his route. But his mind was busy
with other cares; and he heeded neither the _fauna_ nor _flora_. He
thought only of his loved wife and dear children, of the dangers to
which he and they were exposed. He thought only of increasing the
distance between them and his vengeful enemies. During that day they had
made a toilsome journey of fifteen miles, up the mountain--a long
journey for the llamas, who rarely travel more than ten or twelve; but
the dumb brutes seemed to exert themselves as if they knew that danger
threatened those who guided them.
They belonged to Guapo, who had not been a mere servant, but a
cultivator, and had held a small "chacra," or farm, under Don Pablo.
Guapo's voice was well known to the creatures, and his "hist!" of
encouragement urged them on. But fifteen miles was an unusual journey,
and the animals began to show symptoms of fatigue. Their humming noise,
which bears some resemblance to the tones of an Eolian harp, boomed loud
at intervals as the creatures came to a stop; and then the voice of
Guapo could be heard urging them forward.
The road led up a defile, which was nothing more than the bed of a
mountain-torrent, now dry. For a long distance there was no spot of
level ground where our travellers could have encamped, even had they
desired to stop. At length, however, the path led out of the
torrent-bed, and they found themselves on a small ledge, or table,
covered with low trees. These trees were of a peculiar kind, very common
in all parts of the Andes, and known as _mollé_ trees. They are more
properly bushes than trees, being only about ten or twelve feet in
height. They have long delicate pinnate leaves, very like those of the
acacia, and, when in fruit, they are thickly covered with clusters of
small bright red berries.
These berries are used among some tribes of Indians for making a highly
valuable and medicinal beer; but the wood of the tree is of more
importance to the people of those parts as an article of fuel, because
the tree grows where other wood is scarce. It is even considered by the
sugar-refiners as the best for their purpose, since its ashes,
possessing highly alkaline properties, are more efficient than any other
in purifying the boiling juice of the sugar-cane. The leaves of this
beautiful tree, when pressed, emit a strong aromatic smell; and a very
curious property ascribed to it by the more ignorant people of the
mountains will be illustrated by the dialogue which follows:--
"Let us pass the night here," said Don Pablo, halting, and addressing
himself to Guapo. "This level spot will serve us to encamp. We can sleep
under the shade of the bushes."
"What! _mi amo_! (my master) Here?" replied the Indian, with a gesture
of surprise.
"And why not here? Can any place be better? If we again enter the defile
we may find no other level spot. See! the llamas will go no farther. We
must remain therefore."
"But, master," continued Guapo--"see!"
"See what?"
"The trees, master!"
"Well, what of the trees? Their shade will serve to screen us from the
night dew. We can sleep under them."
"Impossible, master--_they are poison trees_!"
"You are talking foolishly, Guapo. These are _mollé_ trees."
"I know it, señor; but they are poison. If we sleep under them we shall
not awake in the morning--we shall awake no more."
And Guapo, as he uttered these words, looked horrified.
"This is nonsense; you are superstitious, old man. We must abide here.
See, the llamas have lain down. They will not move hence, I warrant."
Guapo turned to the llamas, and thinking that their movements might
influence the decision of his master, began to urge them in his
accustomed way. But it is a peculiarity of these creatures not to stir
one step beyond what they consider a proper journey. Even when the load
is above that which they are accustomed to carry--that is to say, 120
lbs.--neither voice nor whip will move them. They may be goaded to
death, but will not yield, and coaxing has a like effect. Both knew that
they had done their day's work; and the voice, the gesticulations and
blows of Guapo, were all in vain. Neither would obey him any longer. The
Indian saw this, and reluctantly consented to remain; at the same time
he continued to repeat his belief that they would all most certainly
perish in the night. For himself, he expressed his intention to climb a
ledge, and sleep upon the naked rocks; and he earnestly entreated the
others to follow his example.
Don Pablo listened to the admonitions of his retainer with incredulity,
though not with any degree of disdain. He knew the devotedness of the
old Indian, and therefore treated, what he considered a mere
superstition, with a show of respect. But he felt an inclination to
cure Guapo of the folly of such a belief; and was, on this account, the
more inclined to put his original design into execution. To pass the
night under the shade of the mollé trees was, therefore, determined
upon.
All dismounted. The llamas were unloaded; their packs, or _yerguas_,
taken off; the horse and mule were unsaddled; and all were permitted to
browse over the little space which the ledge afforded. They were all
trained animals. There was no fear of any of them straying.
The next thing was to prepare supper. All were hungry, as none of the
party had eaten since morning. In the hurry of flight, they had made no
provision for an extended journey. A few pieces of _charqui_ (jerked or
dried beef) had been brought along; and, in passing near a field of
"oca," Guapo had gathered a bunch of the roots, and placed them on the
back of his llama. This oca is a tuberous root, of an oval shape and
pale red colour, but white inside. It resembles very much the Jerusalem
artichoke, but it is longer and slimmer. Its taste is very agreeable and
sweetish--somewhat like that of pumpkins, and it is equally good when
roasted or boiled.
There is another sort of tuberous root, called "ulluca" by the
Peruvians, which is more glutinous and less pleasant to the taste. This
kind is various in form, being either round, oblong, straight, or
curved, and of a reddish, yellow colour outside, though green within. It
is insipid when boiled with water, but excellent when dressed with
Spanish peppers (_Capsicum_). Out of the _oca_, then, and _charqui_, the
supper must be made; and for the purpose of cooking it, a fire must be
kindled with the wood of the mollé.
For a long time there was a doubt about whether it would be safe to
kindle this fire. The sun had not yet gone down, and the smoke might
attract observation from the valley below. If the pursuers were on their
track, it might be noticed; as upon this lonely route a fire would
indicate nothing else than the camp of some one on a journey. But the
stomachs of our travellers cried for food, and it was at length resolved
to light the fire, but not until after sunset, when the smoke could be
no longer seen, and the blaze would be hidden behind the thick bushes of
mollé.
Don Pablo walked off from the camp, and wandered among the trees to see
if he could find something that might contribute a little variety to
their simple supper. A small, broom-like plant, that grew among the
mollé trees, soon attracted his attention. This was the _quinoa_ plant,
which produces a seed, not unlike rice, though smaller in the grain,
whence it has received in commerce the name "petty rice." The quinoa
seeds, when boiled, are both pleasant and nutritious, but especially so
when boiled in milk. Previous to the discovery of America, "quinoa" was
an article of food, supplying the place of wheat. It was much used by
the natives, and is still collected for food in many parts. Indeed, it
has been introduced into some European countries, and cultivated with
success. The leaves, when young, can be used as spinach, but the seeds
are the most sought after for food.
Don Pablo having called Leon to assist him, a quantity of the seeds were
soon collected into a vessel, and carried to the place which they had
chosen for their camp; and, as it was now dark enough, the fire was
kindled and the cooking-pot got ready. The Doña Isidora, although a
fine lady, was one of those who had all her life been accustomed to look
after her household affairs; and this, it may be remarked, is a somewhat
rare virtue among the Peruvian ladies, who are generally too much given
to dress and idleness. It was not so, however, with the wife of Don
Pablo. She knew how to look after the affairs of the _cuisine_, and
could dress any of the peculiar dishes of the country with the best of
cooks. In a short while, therefore, an excellent supper was ready, of
which all ate heartily, and then, wrapping themselves up in their
ponchos, lay down to sleep.