Front Cover
 Title Page
 Chapter I
 Chapter II
 Chapter III
 Chapter IV
 Chapter V
 Chapter VI
 Chapter VII
 Chapter VIII
 Back Cover

Group Title: Chambers's library for young people.
Title: Paul Arnold
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00054762/00001
 Material Information
Title: Paul Arnold a tale of life in Peru
Series Title: Chambers's library for young people
Physical Description: 1391 p., 1 leaf of plates : ill. ; 15 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Hoffmann, Franz, 1814-1882
Henderson, John ( Translator )
William and Robert Chambers
Publisher: William and Robert Chambers
Place of Publication: London ;
Publication Date: 1870
Subject: Poverty -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Miners -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Mothers and sons -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Race discrimination -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Youth -- Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction   ( lcsh )
Social life and customs -- Juvenile fiction -- Peru   ( lcsh )
Bldn -- 1870
Genre: novel   ( marcgt )
Spatial Coverage: England -- London
Scotland -- Edinburgh
Statement of Responsibility: translated from the German of Franz Hoffmann by John Henderson.
Funding: Preservation and Access for American and British Children's Literature, 1870-1889 (NEH PA-50860-00).
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00054762
Volume ID: VID00001
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: Baldwin Library of Historical Children's Literature in the Department of Special Collections and Area Studies, George A. Smathers Libraries, University of Florida
Rights Management: All rights reserved, Board of Trustees of the University of Florida.
Resource Identifier: aleph - 002231590
notis - ALH1969
oclc - 56903614

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page i
        Page ii
        Page iii
        Page iv
        Page v
    Title Page
        Page vi
        Page vii
        Page viii
    Chapter I
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
    Chapter II
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
    Chapter III
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
    Chapter IV
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
    Chapter V
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
        Page 89
    Chapter VI
        Page 90
        Page 91
        Page 92
        Page 93
        Page 94
        Page 95
        Page 96
        Page 97
        Page 98
        Page 99
        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
    Chapter VII
        Page 109
        Page 110
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
        Page 123
        Page 124
        Page 125
        Page 126
        Page 127
        Page 128
        Page 129
        Page 130
    Chapter VIII
        Page 131
        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
    Back Cover
        Cover 1
        Cover 2
Full Text

The Baldwin Library
* *; ; '. :" *










Secolh ,ries






Printed by W. & R. Chambers.



IN one of the smallest cottages, situated in the
poorest quarter of a small town in Germany,
lived, many years ago, a widow named Arnold,
with a family of five children. She was still
young, but care and grief had sharpened her
features, bleached her once dark and glossy
hair, and robbed her youthful figure of all its
grace and attractiveness. She was no longer
the happy and contented mother she had
formerly been; for although she loved her
children with the greatest tenderness, it was
they who formed the subject of her heaviest
care, and burdened her heart with the gloomiest
anticipations for their future welfare.

How changed her life had become! While
her husband was spared to her, she had known
nothing of poverty and distress. He had been
the manager of a mine, and his family lived in
the enjoyment of the greatest comfort, and
were complete strangers to want or sorrow.
But since his sudden and terrible death, every-
thing had been reversed. The support of the
house-the bread-winner of the family-had
been taken away, and the poor widow found
herself reduced from a position of comparative
luxury, to the deepest privation and misery.
When the unexpected blow came, Mrs Arnold
could scarcely bear up against it; and the terror
and grief which she experienced had been too
deep to be easily forgotten. The terrible picture
was always before her eyes of her husband
being brought home pale, covered with blood,
and scarcely breathing. An accident had over-
taken him while in the discharge of his duties;
a support in the mine had given way, and
buried him beneath the ruins. When rescued,
he was in a dying state, and was carried three
days afterwards to his last resting-place in the
churchyard. All the earthly hopes of his weep-
ing family were buried in his grave, and his


widow stood alone in the world without a friend
or supporter.
When the first bitter and heart-breaking
shock was over, the afflicted woman was enabled
to look up to heaven, and to cast her burden on
the Lord, and she experienced the help which
believing prayer never fails to bring. Friends
were raised up to supply the most pressing
wants of herself and her children. This help,
however, although so valuable and comforting
to the distressed family, did not last long;
there were very few rich people in the town,
and the stream of assistance which had flowed
so freely at first, began to dry up, and the
widow was at length reduced to a small pit-
tance, which barely covered her most pressing
Mrs Arnold was a brave woman though, and
determined not to forget the duty she owed to
her family; so, leaving her comfortable dwell-
ing, she took a cottage at the outskirts of the
town, and having saved only the most necessary
articles of furniture, sold all the rest. It was
not without a pang that she parted with so
many things which reminded her of the happy
past, but she said to herself: "I can do without

comfort, but my children cannot do without
learning; everything for them, nothing for
myself, must be my motto."
Thus saying, she went to her new home, and
worked with the greatest industry and perse-
verance day by day, and year by year. The
first beams of the sun aroused her to her daily
labour, and midnight frequently approached
before she lay down to rest; her food was of
the simplest kind, and she allowed herself no
recreation or amusement, in the earnest endea-
vour to live honestly, and provide her children
with all of which they stood in need.
Three years passed away in this manner, often
saddened with anxiety, and anon cheered with
hope, when another terrible event happened
which swept away all the resources of the
family. War broke out; the country was taken
possession of by foreign soldiers, who seized the
mine, and deprived the poor widow Arnold of
the small pension which she had received since
her husband's death.
This was a hard blow and a heavy loss to the
unhappy woman, and was soon after followed
by another. Paul, her eldest son, who was now
a strong lad, fourteen or fifteen years old, came


home one day from the mine, where he had
been working for about a year, looking so pale
and downcast, that his mother no sooner
saw him than she sprang from her seat in
Paul, my boy," she exclaimed, "what is
the matter ? Has anything happened ?"
"Nothing more, mother," replied the youth,
"than that the half of the miners have been
dismissed to-day, and I among the rest. I shall
now be a burden to you again."
The poor mother grew paler than her son,
the blood chilled in her veins, and with a sigh
of anguish she sank back upon a chair, and
would have swooned away had not her sorrow
found vent in a flood of tears.
God's will be done," said she faintly. "We
have fought hard against all our misfortunes,
but this last blow has taken away all my
strength ; I can struggle no longer."
But I can, mother," exclaimed Paul, who
forgot his own sorrow and vexation at the sight
of his mother's tears. "You have worked too
hard, and it is time now for you to rest, and
Ernest, Frederick, and I will work for you till
better times come."

But what can you do, Paul ?" inquired his
mother in astonishment.
"We will work at anything, mother. Boys
are always wanted in the mine to break up the
ore, and we will go there to-morrow morning
and ask them to employ us."
"What! Paul, will you become a pounding-
boy, after being a miner? It would be very
sad for you to turn to that after having had
such a good education."
"Not so sad as to see you killing yourself
with toil and suffering," replied Paul. Besides,
mother, you mustn't lose courage; we shall not
always be so badly off, and the poorest employ-
ment is better than beggary or starvation."
"But Ernest and Frederick haven't left
school yet," said the mother.
"That is very true," answered the youth;
"but as you have no money to pay for their
schooling, they must leave now, and go back
again when times are better. They are quite
strong enough, and it will be far better for
them to work than to do nothing."
Mrs Arnold was obliged to submit; but it was
a bitter humiliation to see her boys working
at such a common employment after she had

striven so hard to prepare them for something
better. The disappointment was great, but she
tried to bear it with patience and cheerfulness,
and thus the load was rendered lighter than it
would otherwise have been. She was glad to
see that her sons soon became as much accus-
tomed to the new work as if they had been used
to it from their childhood, and the love which
they felt for her was sufficient to make them
endure any amount of toil which would lessen
the burden of their support; but Paul, who had
grown very thoughtful, soon came to the con-
clusion that, however hard he and his two
brothers might work, they could earn very little
towards their own support. The great question,
however, was, what else could he do ? He might
become a soldier; but he knew that little or
nothing would remain over from his pay for his
Paul was turning these thoughts over in his
mind one day, as he sat in front of a heap of
ore which it was his work to break up into
small pieces, when he heard some one exclaim:
" Good-morning, Paul;" and looking up, he saw
an old miner with snow-white hair, who regarded
him with interest and sympathy.

"Good-morning, Father Lorenz," he replied,
without ceasing to ply his hammer.
I am very sorry for you," said the old man.
"When I think of your father, who was always
such a good friend and counsellor to us, and see
that nothing better can be done for his son
than to give him work which any boy of ten
years old can do, it makes me grieved and
But what else could I do, Father Lorenz ?"
replied the youth. You know that it wasn't
my fault that I was turned away from the
mine, although"--
Although you did your duty honestly; yes,
that I know well, my boy," said the old miner.
" But you mustn't think that I mean to blame
you. God forbid I have known you too long
to do that. No, no, Paul, nothing of the kind;
but I think you might do something better
than this, after the schooling you've had."
Paul listened attentively. The old man
seemed to have something good to recommend.
"What do you think I ought to do, then,
Father Lorenz ?" he inquired anxiously.
"Well, Paul, there is a good old proverb
which says: 'Every man is the architect of his

own fortune.' You are working very hard, but
I think you are not in the right place, or work-
ing at the right thing."
"But what is that, Father Lorenz ?-what is
that ?"
That you must know better than I do; but
you haven't thought of it yet, I suppose. When
I first saw you sitting here, and hammering
away, it was like a knife at my heart; for I
thought of your father, and wondered what he
would have said if he had seen you, and so I
began to think what I should do if I were in
your place, and it struck me"-
"What was it, Father Lorenz?" eagerly
inquired Paul.
"Well, I thought that America was not so
very far away, and that clever miners were
always wanted; and if one is in good health,
with nothing to lose, why, it would be the best
thing in the world to go to a country where so
many people have got a comfortable living, if
they haven't made their fortunes. That, thought
I, would be the very place for Paul Arnold to
go to. He has had a good schooling, is indus-
trious and honest, like his good father, and is
sure to get on if only he has a good chance.

So it seems to me, Paul, that you would succeed
far better if you were to go to Peru, where there
are rich silver mines, as I 've been told, if you
only have courage to face the long journey."
Paul sat lost in thought, and no answer
came from his lips. The words of his good old
friend had made a deep impression on his
mind, and opened up quite a new field before
his eyes.
I wouldn't give you such advice," continued
the old man after a pause, "if I had any hope
that you would be successful at home; but
there is very little likelihood of any improve-
ment taking place as long as the French are in
the country."
"And my mother, Father Lorenz ?-my
"Well, I know it would be hard work for
you to part from her, and she will not like you
to leave her; but what use can you be to your
mother, Paul, if you remain here? You can
scarcely earn enough to keep yourself, while in
America you would make as much in a month
as you can here in a year."
That is very likely," said Paul thoughtfully.
" But at anyrate I couldn't go away so soon as


you seem to think. The people there speak
Spanish, which I don't understand."
"Then learn it at once," replied the old man
in a cheerful tone. "I think I know some one
who will help you with it; a man who has
worked in the Spanish quicksilver mines of
Almada. I mean Fred Burgmuller: you know
him as well as I do."
"That is true, that is true," exclaimed Paul,
his eyes sparkling with delight. He can help
me, and I'm sure he will, if I ask him. But
then there will be another difficulty in my way
after that."
"Another difficulty ?" replied Lorenz. "Well,
it will be funny if we can't get over it. What
is it?"
"The long journey-the expense," answered
Paul with a sigh. "How will it be possible to
raise so much money ?"
Well, that is certainly a hard nut to crack;
very hard," said the old man, shaking his head.
" But you should set to work and learn Spanish,
and some plan may turn up in the meantime
for getting the money. Could you not ask your
mother for some? she must have some saved up
-if she would "-

"No, no, Father Lorenz," replied the youth,
interrupting him; "I will not take a penny
from her My poor mother needs every farthing
she has for my brothers and sisters. I would
rather beg my way to the sea-coast."
Certainly," said the miner; "I can't blame
you, for the poor woman has quite trouble
enough on her shoulders. So we must try
some other plan. Hm-hm-now I have it,
"Well, what is it?"
"The passage-money, my boy; or at least a
way of getting it."
Impossible, Father Lorenz," said the youth
"Impossible? Not at all! It seems to me
that it will be the very thing for you."
But how is it to be done?" inquired Paul.
"Well, it just strikes me," rejoined the old
man with a smile, "that I have got among the
lumber at home an old model of a mine, shew-
ing all the men at work, which used to belong
to my father. If it hasn't been broken up, it
could easily be repaired. I will look after it as
soon as I get home."
"But, Father Lorenz, what use would the

model be to me?" asked Paul with a dis-
appointed look.
"Don't you understand, my boy? Well, I
thought you were sharp enough for that. That
model was a regular silver mine for my father.
He took it on his back, and went all over the
country with it, shewing it to everybody for a
trifle, and made a lot of money. Things were
just as bad then as they are now, you know.
There was no work to be had, and those who
didn't wish to starve had to find some other
way of getting a living. So he set to work
and made this model, for he was very clever
at such things; and if you are not ashamed
to follow his example, I will make you a
present of it very readily, for it is of no use
to me."
"Father Lorenz," exclaimed Paul, whose eyes
sparkled, while his heart beat for joy, "you are
my good angel! Yes, yes; I see it all clearly
now: I must do as you say; and if you will
really "-
"Certainly, I will," broke in the old man,
"or I wouldn't have offered it. You and I can
look at the old thing, and patch it up together.
Yes, yes; it's a capital idea, although I say it

myself. If you only go at it in good earnest,
you will make something of it."
"It is a splendid idea," said Paul in the
greatest delight. That is just what I wanted.
As soon as winter is over, I will try and get off
to Peru to make my fortune. Rest assured,
Father Lorenz, that I shan't be idle, for my
fortune will be the fortune of my poor mother
and her children; but don't say a word to her
about it yet. She mustn't know till everything
is ready, for she would only distress herself
before the time, and she has plenty to bear as
it is. Don't you think, Father Lorenz, it will
be best to keep it a secret ?"
"Not a syllable shall escape my lips," said
the old man. "And now, good-bye, Paul. I
will go home and hunt up the model."
"Accept my thanks, Father Lorenz, my
warmest thanks. You have made me happy,"
said Paul, his eyes filled with tears. "I don't
know what reason there is to make you take so
much interest in me."
"Well, I'11 tell you, my boy," replied the
old man as he gave Paul's hand a hearty
squeeze. "You owe it to your good father,
who was always a kind and friendly man to the

miners, and helped a great many of us very
much while he lived. He sowed blessings, and
it is only natural that his children should reap
the benefit. That is one thing; and then,
without wishing to praise you, I must say that
I was glad to see that, although the son of the
overseer of the mine, you were not too proud to
take the poorest work, rather than be a burden
to your widowed mother; I have often thought
about you, and this is what has come of it.
Now, not another word about it; but come to
my house to-night, and we will see what can be
made of the old model Good-bye; God bless
you! "



THE spark which the old miner had kindled in
the breast of Paul soon burst into a flame, and
urged the courageous youth to the greatest
exertions. Burgmuller, who was generally sur-
named the Spaniard, from having lived several
years in Spain, became Paul's teacher with the
greatest readiness, and the lessons were com-
menced the next day. It was soon clear that
his knowledge of the language was not equal
to his willingness; but as he was thoroughly
acquainted with all the terms used by the
miners in their work, he proved of the greatest
use to his pupil.
Meanwhile the old model was not forgotten.
Old Lorenz had found it in the lumber-room in
a somewhat shattered condition; but as he and
Paul set themselves diligently to work to repair
it, it was as good as new in a few months;
and when spring returned with its birds and

blossoms, and all nature wore a gay and cheer-
ful appearance, nothing remained to prevent
Paul from starting on his travels, but the neces-
sity of breaking the news to his mother, which
distressed him so much, that he could hardly
make up his mind to the idea of parting with
her. But this difficulty was soon removed. His
mother had long noticed that he had something
on his mind, and when he returned wearied
from his work one evening, she took him by
the hand and led him out to the little garden,
that they might talk without being disturbed.
"Paul," said she, "there is something press-
ing on your mind. Have you so little confidence
in your mother, that you try to keep a secret
from her? Have I not always been a loving
and tender mother to you ?"
Paul looked at her with a smile of affection,
and his eyes filled with tears. "It is just
because of that," he replied. It is because
you love me so much, that I wished to spare
you pain; but now that you have asked the
question, I will tell you everything."
Encouraged by her loving words and glances,
Paul told his mother the whole story of his con-
versation with old Lorenz, and the consequences

which had followed it. More surprised than
grieved, she listened to his account of his plans,
and when he had finished, a beam of joy lit
up her eyes.
And so you have made up your mind to
leave me, Paul?" she inquired.
"Yes, mother; that is, if you have no objec-
tion, for I will never be a disobedient son."
"No; I am sure you never will," said the
widow as she pressed the hand of her brave boy.
" 0 Paul, I shall be sad when you are far away,
when I can only think of you and pray for you;
but it will at anyrate be better than to see you
in such a position as you have here, without any
hope or prospect. Go, my boy! You have
a long and perilous journey before you; but it
seems to be God's will, and He will protect and
bless you."
A silent but loving embrace followed this
conversation. Paul felt glad that his mother
approved of his plans, and she was comforted
in the thought that her son was about to leave
a place in which there was no scope for his
energies, for a country where he was pretty sure
of obtaining a good situation, and making his
way in the world. And then, the parting,

though a sorrowful one, would not be for ever.
She might look forward to the pleasure of seeing
him come back again older and wiser. He was
honest and good, an industrious workman, and
a devoted son; and she looked across the gulf
of years that would separate them, and in
imagination saw him come back again to
gladden her motherly heart.
It was on a bright spring morning that Paul
bade farewell to his mother, brothers and
sisters, and home. The model had received
the valuable addition of a hand-organ; and
with it strapped on his back, and a stout stick
in his hand, he started forth on the first journey
of his life. It was some time before he got over
the grief which his parting had caused. But
his heart was young and full of hope, and the
prospect of success in his enterprise soon dis-
pelled the dark clouds from his brow. The
weather was lovely, the sky cloudless, and all
nature seemed clothed in her gayest attire; the
music of the birds and the rustling of the breeze
through the woods cheered him on, and every-
thing seemed to smile upon him, and to promise
that his object would be fully accomplished.
"Courage !" he said to himself-" courage!

He that chooses the right course and honestly
follows it, may often be disappointed, but he
is sure, sooner or later, to reach the goal of
his wishes. I have not been rash or reckless,
and my mother has given me her sanction and
her blessing, so there must be no more fear or
trembling. 'Every man is the architect of his
own fortune,' as old Lorenz said; it will not be
my fault if I fail."
Having banished his desponding fears, he
pursued his way with greater energy and a
lighter heart, and soon reached a small town,
where he exhibited the model for the first time,
and succeeded beyond all his expectations. His
fine open countenance, and his modest and
unassuming ways, opened nearly every door, and
won for him expressions of friendship and good-
will. Of course, there were some people who
treated him roughly, and drove him away; but
he found that by far the greater number were
kind and good-natured, and their kindness
soothed all feelings of anger, and made him
forget the rebuffs which he met with. When
he left the place he found his pockets were
well filled; and he went on with a light heart
from town to town, and from village to village,

learning the value of his model more and more the
longer he carried it. It proved, in fact, a silver
mine to him as it had been to its former pos-
sessor; and when he reached the port of Bremen,
after travelling about for three months, he was
delighted to find that he had accumulated the
large sum of two hundred dollars. The money
looked very tempting when he had spread it
out before him; he had never had so much
before, and he was glad that at last he was able
to help his poor mother in her distress; so, like
a good and dutiful son, he sent half the sum
home, and kept the rest to pay for his passage
when he should find a ship bound for Peru.
It was not long before he met with a suitable
vessel; and having succeeded, by bargaining
with the captain, in getting a berth at a very
cheap rate, he waited, under the influence of
contending emotions of hope and fear, for the
day which should separate him for many years,
and perhaps for ever, from his native land and
his childhood's home. Commending himself
and his mother, with her family, to the care of
God, he went on board the ship; and when he
went on deck on the following morning, the land
was almost entirely out of sight.



THE sun poured down its burning rays from a
cloudless sky upon a young man of pleasant
appearance, whose somewhat sun-burned face,
fair hair, and blue eyes clearly betokened his
northern origin, who might have been seen pur-
suing the road leading from the port of Callao
to Lima, the capital of Peru. He carried a large
box, made of polished wood, on his back, and a
stout walking-stick, more for use than orna-
ment, in his right hand. His dress was simple,
and suited to the hot climate of that tropical
country. A light broad-brimmed sombrero
shaded his face from the sun, and a striped
nankeen jacket and trousers, with shoes of white
leather, completed his costume. Although he
seemed young and strong, the great heat ap-
peared to be almost too much for him, for he
often stood still to wipe the perspiration from
his face; and at last, after putting the box which

he carried carefully on the ground, he threw him-
self down under the spreading branches of some
mulberry trees, whose shade was too inviting to
be resisted.
In the broad valley which lay before him,
bounded in the distance by the mighty chain of
the Cordilleras, lay Ciudad de los Reyes, the
City of the Kings, as it was named by Pizarro,
its founder, divided into two unequal parts by
the river Rimac. The environs presented a
most charming appearance. Verdure and luxu-
riance abounded on every hand. Large fields of
maize and cotton, extensive plantations of olive,
fig, and pomegranate trees, besides plantains
and vines, bore testimony to the fertility of the
soil, and gladdened the eyes of the wanderer,
who for so many months had been obliged to
content himself with a prospect which was vast
indeed, but of which he had long been weary.
It seemed delightful to him to exchange the
monotony of the sea for such a splendid sight;
and as he lay on the grassy bank, and enjoyed
the scene spread out before him, the sound of
bells struck upon his ear, and increased his
delight. It was a holiday, and from the lofty
towers and spires which rose above the flat roofs

of the city, the bells called the people forth to
worship in the fifty-seven churches and the
numerous cloisters of Lima.
After some time the young man found vent
for his feelings in words. "Here I am at last,"
said he to himself, "thousands of miles from
home, solitary and alone, without friends or any
one to help me, and in a foreign land; but full
of hope, and confidence, and trust in Thee, O
God, who hast watched over me hitherto! Be
comforted, my good mother! Whatever diffi-
culties may be before me shall be met with a
stout heart and a steadfast determination to
overcome them all.-I wonder whether they are
thinking of me at home now," he continued,
while a smile played around his lips. "My
mother will at least never forget me. I feel
her presence always with me; her wishes and
prayers have followed me hither, and God has
answered them all. And my brothers and
sisters, and my good old friend Lorenz, and
Fred Burgmuller! None of them will forget
me, and therefore I have no reason to fear that
my enterprise will fail"
The youth lay for some time longer indulging
in these musings, until the sun had passed the

meridian and begun to sink slowly towards the
west; then springing up, he plucked some fruit
from the branches over his head, strapped his
box across his shoulders, and after a short and
cheerful walk entered the city.
From the glittering spires and domes which
had gladdened his eyes when he first came in
sight of the town, he expected to find broad
streets, and lofty and splendid houses, but in
this he was greatly disappointed. Narrow, dirty
lanes, with small and ruinous buildings which
were more like huts than houses, were the first
to meet his eye; and it was not until he had
reached the centre of the town that he found
the streets grow broader, and the houses assume
a more stately appearance, although there were
very few that were more than one story high.
Paul Arnold, however (for our young readers
need scarcely to be told that the wanderer was
no other than he), paid far less attention to the
streets and buildings of the town, than to the
people who surrounded him on every side. He
had never before seen such a mixture of colours
and costumes, although the vessel had stopped
for a few days at Rio Janeiro and Valparaiso.
There was every shade and variety of colour,

from the white creole to the ebony-skinned
negro. But in the market-place he found the
most varied assemblage of people and the
greatest bustle. The pale-faced creoles were
the most prominent in the crowd, and seemed
to regard all others around them with contempt.
They were of tall and slender figure, with sharp,
well-defined features, dark hair, and sparkling
and scornful eyes. Negroes, Indians, mulattoes,
and half-breeds wandered up and down, laughing
and talking, and in some cases wearing dark and
gloomy countenances. It was quite evident that
all hard work was over for the day with most of
the motley group, and that they had gathered
in the open square to enjoy the cool evening
breeze which swept down from the snow-covered
peaks of the Cordilleras. Some were seated
carelessly on the ground playing at cards, while
others lingered near the refreshment booths,
and enjoyed the various articles offered for sale,
consisting of lemonade, ice-cream, and other
cooling delicacies.
Paul was both hungry and thirsty, but he did
not venture to mix with the people who were
sitting at the tables partaking of the refreshing
drinks that were provided for them. The

company seemed likely to look with some sur-
prise and perhaps contempt at him, and being
unwilling to expose himself to any annoyance,
he left the market-place and turned down a
narrow street, in the hope of finding some quiet
and modest house in which he could obtain
the rest and food of which he felt himself in
Paul soon found himself in front of a house
which promised to supply his wants. It was
called, in the language of the country, a pican-
teria, and was overflowing with a noisy crowd
of guests, who seemed to be luxuriating upon
cancha, a kind of roasted Indian corn; picante,
a strongly peppered mixture of mashed potatoes
and meat; and chicha, a kind of beer. Having
nothing to fear from the appearance of this
company, Paul walked in boldly, deposited his
box on a seat in the corner, and sat down
beside it to wait until some one came to attend
to him. His patience was not put to a severe
trial; he had not been seated long before an
ugly old mulatto woman hastened towards him,
and without asking what he wanted, brought
a goodly quantity of roasted ears of Indian
corn in a hollow pumpkin, a plate of picante,

and a large glass of chicha, and set them
before him. After paying the small sum asked
for these dainties, Paul proceeded to quench his
thirst from the glass of chicha; but scarcely
had the glass touched his lips, and he had taken
a mouthful of the tempting liquid, than he
put it down on the table again with a shudder,
and pushed it as far away from him as he
"Don't you like chicha, my friend?" asked a
ragged mulatto who sat in front of him, and
seemed amused at the expression of horror and
fright with which he regarded the drink.
"No; it's most abominable stuff!" answered
Paul. "Detestably sharp and bitter! I shall
take good care never to try it again. What is
"It's made from Indian corn," replied the
mulatto. "If you don't like it, you can give it
to me."
"With all my heart, if you will only get me a
glass of water instead."
The mulatto jumped up, ran off, and soon
returned with a large glass of water. Then
seizing the glass of chicha, he emptied it
with such delight, that Paul was completely

astonished at anybody having any liking for
such a nauseous composition.
Paul's hunger now began to make itself felt,
and he set the plate of picante before him,
which sharpened his appetite by its savoury
smell. It struck him that his coloured friend
had a peculiar grin on his face; not suspecting
anything wrong, however, he began to eat, but
suddenly threw down his fork, coughed terribly,
and almost shrieked aloud. As may be imagined,
the mulatto broke out in loud laughter again,
and went nearly into convulsions with merriment.
"I thought so, I thought so," he said at last,
as soon as his boisterous fun permitted him to
take breath. "My friend is a stranger, and the
picante is a little too sharp for him. Don't
you like it, senor ?"
"Like it!" exclaimed Paul in a rage; "I
should think not indeed! That is not food, but
burning coals to scorch one's mouth and tongue.
How can people eat such things ?"
"I'll eat it in a moment, if you will allow
me," replied the obliging mulatto with the
greatest readiness, while his eyes sparkled with
"Take it, then; I don't envy you your taste."

"Oh, you will soon learn to like it, senor,"
said-the man confidently, hastily demolishing
the hot and savoury dish, and rolling his eyes
wildly as a proof of his satisfaction. This is
splendid, senor; and when you've been here a
couple of weeks you will not be so ready to give
away your chicha and picante."
Paul did not seem thoroughly satisfied with
this assurance, for he shook his head, and looked
with very little pleasure at the Indian corn,
which was the only portion of his meal remaining.
He succeeded, however, in eating one or two
ears, which, although not very tasty, stilled the
pangs of hunger without taking the skin off his
lips and tongue; and then quietly surveyed the
scene around him. The company presented a
more diversified spectacle even than that which
he had seen in the market-place. Round the
small tables sat people of all colours and of all
grades of society. Here a couple of serious-
looking Spaniards, whose fair complexions and
proud demeanour betokened ancient lineage;
there some monks with brown cowls; to the
right, a black African negro, surrounded by
mulattoes and half-breeds; to the left, groups
of soldiers, merchants, workmen, and muleteers

-men and women, white and black, yellow and
brown, wearing the strangest dresses, and all
eating picante, and drinking large glasses of
the detestable chicha, with a relish which
again called up Paul's astonishment.
After he had indulged himself in this survey
for about half an hour, the door opened, and a
tall figure entered, whose graceful and athletic
form instantly attracted Paul's attention. The
new-comer was a young man; long dark hair fell
thickly on his broad shoulders; he was copper-
coloured, and his countenance wore an uncom-
monly gloomy and reserved expression. His
dress was limited to a dark sack-like shirt
without sleeves, confined round his waist by a
girdle. He carried a heavy bundle on his back,
which he took off on entering, and put under a
seat, upon which he sat down without paying
any attention to the people sitting at the table.
What sort of a man is that ?" inquired Paul
of the mulatto who had helped him with his
dinner, and was still sitting near him. "Isn't
he an Indian?"
"Yes, senor," he replied with a glance of
contempt. "An Indio brato-an Indian beast
from the mountains, who trades in salves and


plasters, seeds, roots, and the bark of trees
which he has collected in- the woods. He is an
impudent fellow, and will soon be kicked out of
the house!"
"Impudent! How so?" asked Paul. "He
seems to sit there very quietly, and annoys
nobody with his presence."
"It is easy to see that you're a stranger in
this country, senor," responded the mulatto.
"Don't you see that he has taken his seat at a
table where there are only whites and creoles
sitting ? I wouldn't venture to do such a thing,
although I have got only a few drops of black
blood in my veins; but these stupid Indians
are impudent enough- Aha! there we are
-now he '11 catch it! I thought he wouldn't be
allowed to sit there long !"
Paul's curiosity was excited to the highest
pitch, and at the same time mingled with a
feeling of alarm for the poor Indian, as he saw
a gigantic fellow, whose dark colour shewedhim to
be an African negro, go up to the Indian, whom
he seized and shook violently by the shoulder.
"Indio brato !" he cried, "how dare you be
so forward as to sit down here, when even I,
Hercules, wouldn't do so ?"

A deep silence followed these words, and the
eyes of all the guests were turned towards the
Indian and negro, who, as it seemed to Paul,
had commenced the quarrel without the least
provocation. The Indian raised his head, cast
a look of scorn and contempt at the negro, and
with a rapid movement released himself from
his grasp.
Go !" said he with a commanding voice and
flashing eye. Hualpa has nothing to do with
Hualpa, Hualpa!" repeated the negro with
scornful mockery and laughter. "He call him-
self Hualpa, the son of a dog! Away with
Hualpa! Away with you, or you'll be sent
The Indian shrugged his shoulders in con-
tempt, and turned his back proudly on the
black man. Go !" he repeated with the same
tone of authority. Hualpa is a son of the
woods, and despises the common slaves."
Son of the woods, Hualpa !" growled the
negro, seizing the Indian again with both hands.
" Out with the Indio brato! Out with him!"
Twenty voices joined in the cry, and threaten-
ing glances were directed from all sides against

the son of thewoods,as Hualpahad called himself.
It seemed certain that a violent scene would take
place if the Indian did not go away quietly,
for the hatred between the two races that had
existed in the New World for hundreds of years
was stimulated by the fumes of the chicha, which
had been plentifully drunk by nearly the whole
company. Paul trembled more than ever for
the Indian, who, notwithstanding the tumult
that was rising against him, preserved, out-
wardly at least, the greatest calmness and
When the enraged negro seized him a second
time, he turned round, and Paul saw by the fire
of his eye and the trembling of his nostrils that
his anger was rapidly reaching the boiling-point.
"Back!" said he in a firm and quiet tone.
"Don't touch me a third time, nigger, or you
will be sorry for it. I don't wish to quarrel
with you, so leave me in peace."
The negro would probably have been cowed
by the threatening countenance of the Indian,
if the cries of the people around had not urged
him to renew his attack.
"Sambo laugh at Indio !" he exclaimed, and
seized Hualpa again.

The patience of the Indian was at last ex-
hausted, and a furious outburst of rage shewed
the anger which he had tried to suppress. With
a loud yell he seized his assailant by the body,
lifted him from the ground, and after swinging
him two or three times to and fro, dashed him
suddenly with such violence against the wall,
that he fell senseless to the ground, knocking
down a table and seat which was full of eager
spectators. A cloud of dust arose, and the
deepest silence reigned for a minute or two, as
if every one had been stunned by the proof
which the Indian had given of his extraordinary
But it was only the calm which precedes the
hurricane. All at once a wild uproar broke
"The Indio brato has killed the negro!"
cried a voice. Knock him down!"
"Down with him Murder him !" cried ten
other voices.
Several glasses of chicha were thrown at the
Indian, and the next instant Paul saw him sur-
rounded by a furious mob- of half-drunken men,
who attacked him with the greatest violence.
Have mercy upon the unhappy man; he is

innocent," cried Paul; but no one paid the least
attention to him.
Hualpa dashed two or three of his assailants
to the ground; but six or seven others flew at
him, roaring and howling like wild beasts;
daggers were brandished in the air, and it
seemed certain that in spite of his coolness and
strength the Indian would soon fall a victim to
the overpowering number of his enemies.
Suddenly Paul bethought himself of the
organ attached to his model, and a gleam of
happiness darted like lightning through his
soul To open his case, set the organ on the
table, and commence playing it, was the work
of a few seconds. The loud and musical tones
soon resounded above the uproar, and exercised
an almost magical influence on the angry multi-
tude. The enraged mulattoes and negroes
ceased their assaults on the Indian; the knives
and daggers disappeared; the general tumult
suddenly gave way to astonishment and sur-
prise; the eyes that had just flashed with
passion now sparkled with delight; and all at
once Paul saw himself surrounded by smiling
faces, with eyes and mouths wide open; while
the Indian, still panting from the exertions he

had made, stood as deserted as if his existence
had been entirely forgotten. He cast a wild
glance around, then, seizing his bundle, slipped
quietly out of the room, without being noticed
or followed by any one.
With quiet satisfaction Paul saw him depart,
and continued to play his organ, in order to fix
the attention of the listening crowd for a little
while, until a sufficient time had elapsed for the
Indian to make good his escape; he then
brought the performance to a close, and allowed
the wonder-working strains to cease.
Those who know the effect which music of
any kind, however discordant, has upon the
African race, will not be surprised that the
murmuring notes of the organ should have put
a sudden stop to the uproar and fighting, nor
that the moment Paul left off playing, instead
of thinking of the Indian again, they should
all have been filled with the desire to hear the
splendid music once more. When Paul ceased, a
strange scene instantly followed. The coloured
people pressed around him, fell at his feet, and
begged in the most earnest tones that he would
commence again.
0 senor, once more! Only a very little!

Oh, your grace, let us have the magic again!
Your grace, great magician! Nigger will
dance, jump, and be jolly. Beat nigger, kick
nigger, abuse nigger-only a little more music.
We all slaves when senor give more music!"
Such were the cries and appeals, mingled
with clapping of hands and screams of delight,
which came to Paul from all sides. Those
nearest to him kissed his hands, his clothes,
and even his feet, throwing themselves on the
ground; while tears stood in the eyes of others;
and Hercules, who had only a few moments
before been mad with rage, shewed himself the
humblest and most cringing of beggars. The
noise and confusion soon became so great that
Paul began to be concerned on account of the
excited condition into which the passionate and
hot-blooded children of Africa had been thrown
by his simple performance.
"Very well, then," he cried at last, in order
to free himself from the crowd that surrounded
him, like flies around a sugar-cask; "one tune
more, but then it will be all over for this
A universal shout of delight and satisfaction
followed these words; and when the music

commenced again, the black, brown, and yellow
faces could scarcely restrain themselves from
expressing the transports they felt. They
embraced and caressed each other, leaped over
the tables and seats, and at last joined in a
general dance, which raised so much dust that
the room became almost insupportable. Paul
seized this moment to slip away; and having
gradually approached the door, organ in
hand, suddenly disappeared before the excited
dancers observed that he had changed his
Paul had reached a distance of about a
hundred paces from the saloon, when a dark
figure suddenly appeared before him with out-
stretched arm, which so astonished him that
he started back in fright.
0 senor, don't be frightened," said a pleasant
voice with a soft expression. "You know me;
I am Hualpa."
"Hualpa! Are you here still ?" replied
Paul, stretching out his hand without any
further alarm to the young Indian, who seized
and pressed it to his breast, in token of respect.
"What are you doing here, Hualpa? Why
don't you make your escape? Your enemies

may find you out, and their rage and anger are
perhaps not yet cooled down."
"Hualpa fears no enemies, and least of all
the miserable blacks!" answered he proudly.
"I waited here to thank you, for you have
saved my life, senor."
"You have to thank your own bravery rather
than my assistance," replied Paul.
"The jaguar is brave, but he must yield to
the hounds when they come in great numbers,"
was the Indian's answer. Enough, senor;
Hualpa is your friend; you can reckon on him
in danger. The son of the woods never forgets
the person who has done him a service."
"Well, then, Hualpa, if you really think you
owe me any gratitude," replied Paul, smiling,
" I will lay claim to your friendship this very
Command me, senor," said the Indian, his
eyes sparkling like those of a panther in the
darkness, from joy at being able to shew grati-
tude to his deliverer. Hualpa is ready.
Demand his life, senor; it is yours."
No, my friend, it is not a matter of life and
death," replied Paul, laughing; "I only want
quarters for the night. I am a stranger in


Lima, and have only arrived to-day. If you
can shew me an inn where I can sleep com-
fortably, I shall be as thankful to you as you
are to me."
Be good enough to follow me, senor," said
the Indian, stepping out with a light and rapid
After a few minutes they reached a tambo, or
inn, where Paul got a pleasant room. When
he was comfortably settled, the Indian bade
him farewell, and expressed the hope of seeing
him again sooner or later. Paul then threw
himself on his mattress; and, tolerably pleased
with the events of his first day in Lima, soon
fell into that sound sleep which can only be
thoroughly enjoyed by those who have a good
conscience and a sound mind.



PAUL had at first the intention of staying only
a short time in Lima, and then pushing on to
Cerro de Pasco, where he hoped to find a
situation of some kind in the extensive silver
mines there. But the adventure in the pican-
teria altered his plans. A hand-organ was a
new and strange thing in Lima, and its harsh
and piercing tone, although not likely to please
a refined ear, found the greatest favour among
the coloured population of the capital of Peru.
Paul and his organ became celebrated in a few
days, and crowds stared with astonishment at
the box from which came the melodies that
charmed them so much. Not only the negroes,
mulattoes, and other people of colour, pure and
mixed, but even the Spaniards and Creoles,
seemed greatly taken with the novel and
unheard-of instrument. In a few days Paul
was invited to play at the houses of some of the


best families in the town; and when he opened
the case containing the model in a large party
composed of the richest inhabitants of Lima,
and shewed them the numerous figures engaged
at work, his fame reached its highest point.
The model was exceedingly neat, and well
worthy of the inspection it received. When
Paul turned the handle of the organ, all the
figures were set in motion. Some hammered
away at the rocks, others worked with pick-
axes, while others drew little wagons to and fro
filled with the ore which had been dug out.
Some were working down at the bottom of the
mine, others went up and down ladders leading
from one ledge of rock to another; in a word,
the whole work of a mine was shewn at one
view to the astonished beholders, and the
greatest delight was felt by them all.
When Paul began to grow weary of turning
the handle of the organ, a shower of small
silver coins rained down upon him from the
liberal hands of the company; and he received
so many pressing invitations, that it was
impossible for him to think of leaving Lima for
several days. He therefore prolonged his stay,
and found the exhibition a very prosperous

experiment; indeed, the success which lie
enjoyed would have satisfied even those who
were greedy of gain.
"I must strike while the iron is hot," said
he to himself, as he returned with well-filled
pockets to his little inn. "How my good friend
Lorenz would rejoice if he only knew how I am
getting on! He shall know it some day, though,
and I will prove to him that good fortune has
made me neither proud nor ungrateful."
Paul hammered away at the iron as long as
it remained hot, and reaped such a rich harvest,
that he was at last in some difficulty as to how
to guard the money he had acquired. It would
not do to take it to Pasco, and he did not like
to intrust it to any stranger in Lima. But as
the landlord of the house in which he was
lodging seemed to be an honest and well-
disposed man, he determined to ask his advice.
"What you have to do, senor," replied the
man, without much reflection, "is very easy
and simple. Go to some respectable merchant
and buy a bill of exchange upon Germany or
England, and then send it home, or change it
into money again when you arrive at Pasco."
"Thanks, senor; your advice is good, and

shall be followed on the spot," replied Paul,
who lost no time in going to a rich English
banker, who had been spoken of as very honest
and friendly. Mr Wilson received him kindly,
and soon settled the business, by giving Paul
notes which he could change for gold at any
moment either in England, Germany, or Peru;
and when he expressed the wish to send some
money to his mother, Mr Wilson undertook that
it should be given into her own hands through
a business friend in Germany.
"And now, my young friend," he added, "I
should like to have a few words with you. You
are a miner, are you not ?"
Paul answered in the affirmative.
Are you willing to make use of your know-
ledge here, or have you left your fatherland
with some other object in view ?"
In reply to this question, Paul related in a
brief and modest way the circumstances which
had led him to visit Lima, and delayed him
longer in the town than he had intended.
But what are your intentions and plans
"Now that you have been good enough to
send my money home for me, I shall try my

luck as a miner," replied Paul. "I see that
my organ has begun to lose the charm of
novelty, and I must try some other way of
getting a living."
"Well, I shall perhaps be able to help you.
I am very much pleased with your appearance
and your frugality, and especially to find that
you have not forgotten your widowed mother,
but have sent her something as a token of your
love, instead of wasting your money in folly, as
hundreds would have done were they in your
place. I have got a silver mine at Cerro de
Pasco, and although there is no scarcity of
workmen, a conscientious, diligent, and intelli-
gent young man would be of some service. I
know the extent neither of your knowledge nor
your diligence; but I feel convinced of your
integrity and good character, and if you will
enter my service you shall be welcome."
Paul's face beamed with joy. "I am quite
at your disposal," said he. "When shall I
leave for Pasco, and to whom shall I apply
there ?"
"You can leave as soon as you like, and I
will give you a letter to my manager, Don Jose
Ugarto. When will you be ready to start ?"


"To-day-to-morrow-or the day after;
whenever it will be most convenient for you."
"Very well. We will say to-morrow morn-
ing, then. You will find a mule and the letter
to Don Ugarto waiting for you. But you
haven't inquired what salary you are to
receive ?"
"No," answered Paul; I trust entirely to
your opinion of the value of my services; and
as it will be impossible at the outset to find out
what I can do, I think it would be well to wait
a little."
You are quite right. I will see that you
are comfortably provided for in the meantime,
and then we can make some other arrangement
afterwards. I shall expect you at ten to-morrow
morning. Good-day."
As the appointed hour struck, Paul found
himself once more at Mr Wilson's house, which
lie left an hour later, mounted on a good mule,
and carrying the letter to Don Ugarto in his
pocket, hoping it would open the way for his
future fortune. IIe proceeded at a sharp and
merry trot, for he was neither burdened with a
load nor oppressed with anxiety. He had left
his model and organ at the house of Mr Wilson,

as it would have been almost impossible to
carry it over a pass of the Cordilleras sixteen
thousand feet high; besides which, it was now
of no further use to him; he had other pros-
pects before him, and had determined to follow
out the new career so wonderfully opened with
all the abilities he possessed.
It was a difficult and rather dangerous road
which Paul had to traverse. At the commence-
ment of the journey the path lay through a flat
country, and everything went easily. Following
the course of the Rimac, he found numerous
farms, in which he was hospitably received, and
greatly enjoyed the abundance and variety of
the meals provided for him. But when the
road grew steep, and the lofty ridge of the
Cordilleras had to be crossed, the scene was
altered. He had to force his way along the
most break-neck roads, and the prospect be-
came wilder and wilder, notwithstanding its
magnificence. The farms disappeared, and
for many weary miles there was no human
dwelling visible except the wretched Indian
huts, whose miserable occupants had scarcely
a friendly look, and still less a hospitable
reception to give him. He pressed on, however,

without any fear, mounting higher and higher,
till he reached the elevation at which all
vegetation ceased, and only the naked rocks
were visible.
At last, as the short twilight was deepen-
ing into night, Paul arrived at the last ascent,
called by the natives the Piedra Parada, which
rose dark and threatening before him, covered
with huge and shapeless blocks of stone. He
encouraged his tired and- almost breathless
animal to make one last effort, and succeeded
in gaining the summit of the pass, which com-
manded a splendid view, and banished from his
mind all the fatigues and perils he had under-
gone. Towards the west, he saw the small
valleys gradually melting into the sandy coast-
line of Peru, washed by the Pacific Ocean. To
the north and south, the mighty and precipitous
Cordilleras extended as far as the eye could
reach, the peaks of which were covered with
perpetual snow. Turning eastward, his eye first
swept over the immeasurable grassy plains of
the table-land and the fertile valleys of the
Sierra, till the lofty chain of the Andes ter-
minated the prospect.
He stood for a long time absorbed in the

beauty of this magnificent panorama, till dark-
ness began to settle on the landscape, and the
sharp east wind reminded him of the necessity
of seeking shelter for the night. Refreshed by
the short rest, the mule jogged on till they
reached a little Indian hut, which, although
destitute of every comfort, afforded protection
from the raw night-wind.
After descending the terraced slope of the
eastern side of the Cordilleras for a distance of
between two and three thousand feet, the
traveller reaches an extensive and undulating
table-land, stretching away as far as Pasco,
called the Puna of Peru, the climate of which
is as severe and unpleasant as that of the
highest mountain regions. This Puna, Paul
was now obliged to cross before he could reach
the end of his journey.
Morning was breaking, and the rising sun
began to redden the snow-covered peaks of the
mountains around, as he left the hut of the poor
shepherd where he had passed the night.. He
raised the cow-skin at the opening of the
wretched dwelling, and stepped out to look
after his mule, which he found trembling with
cold. In spite of the advice of his host to stay

with him until some other travellers should pass
with whom he could travel in company, Paul
mounted his animal, and pressed forward on his
"Beware of the veta and the surumpe!"'cried
the shepherd after him. But Paul paid very
little regard to the warning, and hastened on.
A thick and heavy fog lay over the entire
landscape, and, mingling with the snow which
had fallen during the night, gave the scene a
melancholy and monotonous whiteness. He
pressed along over wretched roads until the
sun gained power enough to pierce through
the gloom and melt the snow. Cheered and
warmed by the increasing light and heat,
which gave new life to his half-frozen limbs,
Paul pursued his weary journey with renewed
interest and pleasure. On either side, the icy
peaks of the Cordilleras reared their lofty heads
fourteen thousand feet above the level of the
sea; behind him lay the darkening valleys of
the lower hill-country, dotted here and there
with scarcely perceptible Indian villages, while
before him stretched the bare and cheerless
plateau, only varied occasionally by low ridges
of rock and steep precipices.

Paul rode farther and farther, and the Puna
began by degrees to grow more lively and
animated; the monotony of the region dis-
appeared; herds of vicunas approached him, as
though urged by curiosity; in the distance,
large flocks of huanacos were seen; the wild
deer roamed about the rocky precipices uttering
a loud piping cry; the strangely horned Puna
stag came slowly from its cave, and looked with
astonishment at the solitary rider, about whose
path the frisky mountain hares gambolled
innocently, and nibbled the herbage which
sparingly covered the rocks.
When the sun had passed its mid-day height,
and began to descend westward, Paul's mule
shewed symptoms of weariness, and he dis-
mounted in order to give the poor creature a
little ease, and to stretch his own limbs, which
began to grow stiff and cramped after being so
many hours in the saddle. He walked on
rapidly up a steep ascent, but in a very few
minutes felt himself obliged to stand still and
take breath. It seemed, however, almost im-
possible for him to breathe, and he was alarmed
to discover that the thinness of the atmosphere
at such a height was beginning to have an

injurious effect upon him. He had never
experienced such a strange sensation before;
he tried to walk on, but his limbs refused their
office, and an indescribable terror overpowered
him. He could hear his heart beating against
his ribs; his breathing became short and
irregular; a tremendous load seemed to be
lying on his chest; his lips turned blue, then
swelled and burst; blood started from his eye-
lids, and his senses seemed to be forsaking him.
He could neither see, hear, nor feel anything;
a dark gray fog seemed to swim before his eyes,
his head grew dizzy, and he was compelled at
last to lie down trembling on the ground.
"This must be the veta," thought he, "of
which the shepherd warned me, and which has
proved fatal to so many travellers in this
desolate region. 0 God, have mercy upon
me and my poor mother, who has no other
support "
The thought of his mother and of his home
far away, seemed to inspire him with new
strength. After a few minutes, he roused him-
self, and, rising from the ground, managed with
some difficulty to remount his mule, It was
high time. Black and stormy clouds began to

shew themselves on the horizon, and the flashes
of lightning, and the roar of distant but ever
approaching thunder, threatened a terrible hur-
ricane. Fortunately, however, the storm was
attracted by the metallic masses of the Cordil-
leras, and the lonely traveller experienced only
a faint idea of what it might otherwise have
been. But it was followed by a driving snow-
storm, which covered the whole landscape in a
short time to the height of a foot, and by
destroying all traces of the road, made his
position every moment more and more dangerous.
The mule plodded slowly on, picking out its
own path, until it sunk at last in a morass, from
which it was unable to extricate itself. Paul
dismounted very cautiously, and after a great
deal of trouble succeeded, with the aid of the
dagger which he had with him, in freeing the
animal, and getting it once more on to solid
ground. He rode to and fro for some time
seeking the road, which he had great difficulty
in finding, although it was marked out here and
there with terrible plainness by the skulls and
bones of numerous animals which had sunk down
and perished under their burdens.
After the snow had ceased, the clouds suddenly

parted, and the tropical sun shone down with
such dazzling brilliancy upon the snow, that
Paul experienced terrible pain in his eyes, which
was only relieved by covering them with his
"Can this be the surumpe?" he sighed.
"Why did I not follow the advice of the friendly
shepherd ? Now, perhaps, I shall suffer for my
obstinacy with perpetual blindness "
After the interval of half an hour, the previous
spectacle repeated itself. The heavens grew
suddenly black, a terrific thunder-storm burst
forth, followed by heavy snow; then the sun
reappeared, but only to hide himself again under
renewed tempests. Paul struggled on with
great energy and trouble, but his poor mule
was becoming rapidly exhausted, and night was
fast approaching. Stiff with cold, and weakened
with hunger and the fatigue of the journey, the
unhappy rider could scarcely hold the reins,
and his feet were perfectly benumbed, although
protected to some extent by the large wooden
stirrups used in that country. In addition to
this, there was the distressing certainty that
the nearest house was several miles distant, and
that it would be impossible to reach it until

after nightfall. The wearied animal, which had
travelled fourteen hours without rest or food,
could not go on any longer, and Paul began to
give himself up for lost, and to fear lest he
should fall a victim to the increasing cold, or be
buried beneath a heavy fall of snow, when he
saw an overhanging rock on his right hand, in
the side of which there seemed to be a cave,
which promised some shelter, however poor.
God, to whom he had cried in his want and
despair, had heard his prayer-he was not to
fall a prey to the fury of the elements.
The joyful surprise caused new warmth to
flow through his frame, and he hastily dis-
mounted to examine the cavern. It did not
seem to offer a very comfortable place of abode,
but it would at least shelter him from the wind
and snow, and he determined to avail himself
of it. He unsaddled his mule, and spread the
saddle-cloths and his poncho on the ground, to
serve for a bed, and then fastened the animal
to a stone inside the cave, where it would be
protected from the storm.
Not less hungry than his poor mule, which
had begun to crop the scanty herbage growing
at its feet, Paul opened his saddle-bags, took

out some bread, some hard cheese, and a bottle
of wine with which he had provided himself,
and was just about to commence his frugal
meal, when he observed, as his eyes had grown
accustomed to the darkness of the cavern, the
body of a man stretched at full length upon the
ground, and motionless as if in death.
With a loud exclamation of surprise and
alarm, he started to his feet, and a cold
perspiration bedewed his face at the thought
of finding himself in the company of a dead
body in such a wild and desolate region.
But what if a spark of life should still be
in him?" he asked himself. "Can I do nothing
to save this unhappy fellow-traveller?"
With these words he pushed his untasted
food on one side, and took a taper from his
pocket and lit it; but what was his astonish-
ment, when he approached the body, to recognize
the features of the Indian, Hualpa!
Hualpa! he exclaimed. "What a wonder-
ful meeting! But he lives-his heart still
beats, although but feebly. If it is possible,
the poor man shall be saved."
The feeble taper, which had dimly lighted up
the darkness of the cave, soon went out, but

Paul did not require it longer. Filled with
sympathy, he devoted all his attention to the
Indian. He brought the bottle of wine, laid
the head of the poor man on his lap, poured a
few drops of wine into his mouth, rubbed his
cold and benumbed hands and temples, and had
continued these efforts for only a few minutes,
when a faint sigh convinced him that they were
about to be crowned with success. He redoubled
his efforts, and was delighted to observe that
the signs of life were increasing. In a few
moments, the Indian raised himself up, and
asked in a faint voice: "Where am I? and who
is the good spirit that has poured fire into my
veins, and thawed my frozen blood?"
"Ask afterwards," answered Paul in a soft
and friendly tone of voice. "Drink a little
more wine; and if you are hungry, take a little
bread and cheese."
The Indian took the food which was offered,
and was soon fully restored; while Paul, whose
hunger was greatly sharpened by his exertions,
joined him in the repast, reserving a little wine
for the following morning.
"Now, senor," said the Indian, after he had
tried in vain to pierce the darkness of the cave,


and to recognize the countenance of his deliverer
-" after you have not only restored me to life,
but permitted me to share your food, to fill up
the measure of your goodness-may I not learn
whom I have to thank ? I beg you to speak."
"Then you haven't found out who I am,
Hualpa?" said Paul "This is not the first
time that we have met."
Ah, that voice !-it sounds pleasant in my
ear !" exclaimed the Indian. "Senor Paulo-
it is you: you have a second time saved my
life. Yes, yes; it is you. Just now, when I
was starved with cold and hunger, I could not
remember your voice; but now-now I am
deceived no longer. Senor Don Phulo, Hualpa
owes you two lives."
"Say nothing about that, my friend. I am
very fortunate in having found a companion in
this terrible Puna, and now I only want to hear
how you came here."
Hualpa was seeking herbs on the bills and
ravines of the Puna," answered the Indian. He
had not slept for two nights; he was weary
and hungry; and the snow-storm surprised him
on the way to Pasco. The snow blinded him;
the hunger was stronger than his limbs; he

wandered about a long time, and knows not
how he came to this cave."
Tired, hungry, lightly clad, and with such a
terrible storm, it is no wonder that human
strength should fail," said Paul. "I am very
thankful that God has guided my footsteps to
this cave. God alone has saved us both. Had
I not found this shelter, I should certainly have
perished, and you also, my friend."
"And where are you going, Senor Paulo ?"
inquired the Indian, after Paul had described
all the dangers through which he had passed.
"The end of my journey is the same as your
own," replied Paul. I hope we shall reach
Pasco to-morrow in good time."
Hualpa knows the way," answered the
Indian. He will act as guide to his deliverer.
But what is Senor Paulo going to do there ?"
In answer to this inquiry, Paul related the
story of his life, of the poverty into which his
father's death had plunged the family, the
advice of old Lorenz, his travels through Ger-
many, and his arrival in Peru; so that Hualpa
soon knew almost as much about his young
friend as if he had been brought up with him.
"Senor Paulo seeks his fortune in Peru.

Good! He shall find it. It is now late, and
we must start early in the morning. Let us
sleep now, if it is agreeable to you."
Paul would willingly have asked Hualpa
what he meant by the prophetical assertion
that he should make his fortune, for the tone
in which the words were spoken had aroused
his curiosity, but the Indian did not seem
disposed to enter into any further conversation;
so, after bringing his mule into the cave, and
allowing it to lie down, he threw himself on the
ground, and feeling more comfortable by the
warmth of the animal beside him, soon fell
sound asleep. The fatigue and excitement of
the day had so exhausted the whole party, that
the two men slept as soundly as if they had
been stretched on comfortable beds, and the
mule seemed to enjoy the dark cave as well as
a snug stable.



THE distance to Pasco was still very great, and
the road rough and unpleasant; the Indian
therefore rose early, and prepared for the
journey. The breakfast was a very simple one;
and after Paul had shared the remains of the
wine with his companion, he mounted his mule
and set forth. Fortunately, the weather had
greatly improved during the night, and the sun
shone down upon the landscape, from which the
snow was rapidly disappearing.
"Everything seems promising, Senor Don
Paulo," said the Indian as he took a long
breath of the pure fresh mountain air. "In
less than six hours we shall be at Pasco."
He went forward with light and elastic steps;
and the mule, which had recovered from the
toil of the previous day, trotted merrily after
him. Although our travellers had many diffi-
culties to surmount, they reached the little

village of Pasco about noon, after having left
the flat and monotonous plateau of Bombon
behind them, and climbed the steep and marshy
road to the summit of the chain of hills, where
Paul suddenly beheld a populous city, which in
such a wild and desolate region produced a most
cheering effect upon him. It lay in a natural
amphitheatre, surrounded by steep and barren
rocks; and the stately houses, with their
smoking chimneys and gray roofs, seemed to
promise a pleasant and agreeable residence.
This, then, is the celebrated Cerro de Pasco,
my friend?" said he to Hualpa after a short
and silent glance.
"This is the Cerro de Pasco," replied the
Indian. "You cannot lose your way now, for
the end of your journey lies before you."
But what mean you?" asked Paul in sur-
prise. "Are you going to leave me, Hualpa,
as you say that I am at my journey's end?:'
"Hualpa leaves you," was the reply, "but
not for long."
"But you said you were going to the town.
Why will you not remain in my company ?"
Hualpa has changed his mind," he answered.
"He has something important to do, and must

seek his father in the mountains. Farewell,
senor. We shall soon meet again."
"I am sorry to part from you," said Paul,
"for your company has been very pleasant to
me; but if other duties call you away, I will
not hold you back."
"Yes; another duty calls me," answered
Hualpa, pressing with great warmth the hand
which Paul extended towards him. "I must
visit my father before I see you again, senor;
but I will be sure to come. One warning, how-
ever, Senor Don Paulo: beware of Don Jose
Before Paul had time to inquire the meaning
of this strange advice, the Indian had given his
hand a parting squeeze, and was already hasten-
ing down the hill which they had just ascended
"Hualpa! Hualpa!" he cried; but the
Indian either could not or would not hear, and
continued his flight without turning back to
take another farewell of his companion.
"What a strange man!" thought Paul, as
he watched him rapidly vanishing out of
sight. He seems to have a very great liking
for me, and to be very thankful for what

I have done for him; but he is so secret and
reserved, that I don't know what to make of
his sudden departure. And then this mysterious
warning about Jose Ugarto. Why did he not
tell me that during our long journey from the
cave ? However, he means well, that is clear;
so I shall pay attention to what he has said,
and wait for the explanation till we meet
Still wondering at the strange conduct of his
late guide, Paul put spurs to his mule, and
descended the hill towards Cerro de Pasco.
He soon reached the outskirts of the town, and
had little difficulty in finding the house of Don
Jose Ugarto, the manager of Mr Wilson's mine.
A few minutes later, he stopped in front of a
lofty and splendid building; a negro came out
to take his mule; and in answer to his inquiries,
directed him to the room in which his master
was to be seen.
Following the directions, Paul soon found
himself in a large and lofty apartment, very
richly furnished. Five or six clerks were seated
at large mahogany tables busily engaged in
writing; and in a comfortable arm-chair near
the spacious bow-window which lighted the

room, sat a tall thin man, with a pale counte-
nance, closely-cropped black hair, and piercing
eyes, which sparkled with, the gleam of a bird
of prey, over a nose resembling the beak of a
"That must be Don Ugarto," thought Paul,
feeling in his pocket for Mr Wilson's letter.
"Who are you? What do you want?" in-
quired the man in the arm-chair in a sharp
"I wish to see Don Jose Ugarto," replied
Paul with a polite bow; "and, if I am not
mistaken, I have the honour of speaking to
him, senor."
"Quite right. Well?"
Well, I have brought a letter for you from
Mr Wilson of Lima, which will introduce me,
and explain everything to you."
He had scarcely mentioned Mr Wilson's name
when Don Ugarto started from his scat, and
surveyed him from head to foot with a half-
suspicious, half-surprised glance. He then tore
the letter from his hand, turned with it to the
window, and remained standing in deep thought
after rapidly scanning its contents. When he
turned round again, Paul observed that he was

still paler than before, and that deep wrinkles
had formed themselves between his bushy
"You are Paul Arnold, a German by birth,
and have the intention of finding a situation
here," said he, in a cold and repulsive tone.
"Yes, that is my name; but I have not an
engagement to seek," replied Paul. "If you
will read the letter carefully, you will see that
Mr Wilson has provided me with one."
Hm-yes," said Don Ugarto with a still
more unfriendly look; "there is certainly some-
thing of that kind here; but nothing is said as
to what situation you are to have. We have
far too many people here already, and I can't
give work or money to every beggar that
chooses to come here. It will be far better,
young man, for you to look for employment
A deep blush of anger and surprise passed
over Paul's countenance; but instead of allow-
ing himself to be frightened by the rough
manner of Don Ugarto, he straightened himself
up proudly, and advanced a step nearer to
"I don't know, senor, who has given you the

right to talk to me in this way," said he. I
have not come here as a beggar, but under
directions from Mr Wilson, your employer, and
recommended to you in a letter written by his
own hand. But I shall force myself as little
upon you as I have done upon Mr Wilson, who
shall soon learn from me the way in which his
orders are respected here. Good-morning,
Senor Ugarto!"
Having come to the full determination to
leave such an unfriendly house, Paul turned upon
his heel, and walked towards the door. But he
had scarcely reached it, when he felt a hand
upon his shoulder.
"Wait, Senor Arnoldo," said Ugarto; "we
must exchange a few civilities before you go."
He turned round with some surprise, and was
astonished to mark the change which had
suddenly come over the features of Ugarto.
The deep wrinkles had vanished from his brow,
and the proud and scornful mouth was lighted
up by a friendly and pleasant smile.
"What can you possibly wish from me, senor,
after shewing me the door in such a plain and
unmistakable way ?" he inquired.
Nothing further at present," was the polite

answer, than the request that you will pardon
my harsh and repulsive behaviour. I must tell
you, Senor Arnoldo, that we are often overrun
with ignorant adventurers; and I must confess,
that at first I feared you were one of that class.
But your prompt and decided, even proud and
dignified conduct, has convinced me that I was
mistaken. None but those who know their
own value can manifest such decision of char-
acter; and now that you have so thoroughly
commanded my respect, I don't doubt that we
shall soon be very good friends. Your hand,
young man, and forgive my rashness and
If Paul had not been warned by Hualpa, he
would have certainly been led to accept Don
Ugarto's apologies as genuine, for his manner
seemed perfectly open and friendly, and the
reasons upon which his excuses were grounded
had all the appearance of truth. But the
warning of the Indian was not forgotten, and
Paul was rather inclined to regard the polished
courtesy of Ugarto as assumed and hypocritical,
than to think that the enmity which he had at
first displayed was merely to test his character.
He took the hand, however, which was stretched

out towards him, but determined to be on his
guard against Ugarto under all circumstances.
"Very well, senor," he replied, after a
moment's thought; "I am not in the habit of
weighing every word, and if we can become
good friends, I shall be very glad."
"Then you will stay here, my friend; that is
settled," said Don Ugarto. "I will set a room
apart for you, and it will, of course, be clearly
understood that you will always dine with me.
Mr Wilson has given directions to that effect,
and now that I know you, all his wishes shall
be strictly complied with.-Antonio !"
The negro who had taken charge of Paul's
mule, appeared in answer to this call.
"Take this gentleman to the green room on
the first floor," said Don Ugarto. "Take care
that everything is in proper order; I shall come
and see it myself. Sancho will attend Senor
Arnoldo!-And now, sir," said he, turning to
Paul, "have the goodness to follow this man,
and make yourself at home in your new
quarters. I shall expect you to dine with me
in an hour, and we shall then be able to talk
about your future post over a glass of wine.
Farewell for the present, Senor Arnoldo!"

Paul bowed politely, and followed the servant,
who conducted him up a broad flight of stairs
covered with a soft carpet, and ushered him
into an apartment, the luxurious furniture of
which struck the young man very much, who
had hitherto been accustomed to only the
poorest accommodation. He carefully avoided
any sign of surprise, however; and having
directed the negro to bring up the small amount
of luggage which he had brought with him,
resigned himself to his thoughts.
Hualpa was right," said he at length;
"this man is not to be trusted, and I
must keep a sharp look-out. But, after all,
what injury can he do to me if I perform my
duty ? He may perhaps try to slander me to
Mr Wilson, in order to get rid of me; but even
then I should have truth on my side, and that
is always stronger than falsehood. No, no,
Don Ugarto, an honest man doesn't fear you;
and if you seek a dishonourable quarrel, you
shall at least find a straightforward opponent
in me !"
Having arrived at this conclusion, Paul felt
his usual calmness gradually returning; and
after taking a little rest, he dressed himself, and

descended to the dining-room. He met with a
cordial reception from the head of the establish-
ment, who introduced to him the young men
whom he had already seen in the counting-
house, and then asked him to take a seat by
his side. He was exceedingly attentive to him
during dinner, loaded his plate with the finest
dainties, and kept his glass always filled with
the best and strongest wines, which seemed to
course through his veins like fire. The way in
which Don Ugarto urged him to take more and
more wine at last aroused Paul's attention, and
he put his glass on one side with the remark,
that he had always been accustomed to the
greatest moderation, and had no intention of
making any alteration in his habits. The
glance of vexation and surprise which passed
over Ugarto's features was observed by Paul,
but without the slightest change of counte-
nance. The repast was finished soon afterwards,
and all rose from the table, with the exception
of Paul, with whom Don Ugarto wished to have
some private conversation.
"Well, my young friend," said he, "I have
considered the question as to how you can be
employed in the best and most advantageous

way to yourself, and have decided to take you
as one of my clerks. Your duties will be light
and simple, and when you have grown used to
it, you can earn a very comfortable salary."
Had any one else than Don Ugarto made
this proposition, Paul would probably have
agreed to it without hesitation; but he felt so
little confidence in him, and had at the same
time so little desire to become a mere clerk,
which he felt sure was not Mr Wilson's inten-
tion, that he politely but firmly declined the
"I thank you, senor," said he. "Although
I don't doubt that you have my benefit and
advantage in view, I cannot feel it my duty to
accept your proposition. I have been brought
up as a miner, and as a miner I will live and
die. Besides this, Mr Wilson left it to my own
choice as to what special branch I should turn
my attention to; so, with your permission, I
will wait a little while and look around me, so
as to be able to make up my mind without
"But you forget, sir-you seem to forget
that I am Mr Wilson's manager and sole repre-
sentative here!" replied Don Ugarto, visibly

excited. "You will find it advisable to obey
my orders."
"Certainly, senor," returned Paul with cold-
ness. "You will always find me obedient as
far as your orders agree with those of our com-
mon master; but I must repeat to you that Mr
Wilson has engaged me for his silver mine, and
not for his counting-house, and you will easily
see that I must first follow his wishes."
"Very well, senor, as you wish," replied Don
Ugarto, with scarcely concealed anger. "But
you must permit me to remark, that as a miner
you can never hope to obtain any position here,
for you would either have to become one of the
barreteroes, who break up the ore, or one of the
hapiries, who dig it out, and work among them
with your own hands like a slave. You might
certainly have the good fortune to discover a
new vein of silver, which would entitle you to
a handsome reward; but such discoveries are
very rare; and you would only degrade yourself
by such work, and have none but wretched
Indians for your companions. As a book-keeper,
you would have a position in which you could
rise; and I would therefore, as a friend, strongly
recommend you to agree to my proposition."


Give me time for consideration, senor," said
Paul. "I will decide within ten days or a
fortnight at the furthest, but I cannot before.
Besides barreteroes and hapiries, there must
surely be several persons who superintend the
work in the mine, and I daresay I shall find
something to do in that direction that will
justify the confidence which Mr Wilson has
placed in my knowledge."
"Obstinate fool!" uttered Don Ugarto, as
he turned away in a passion. Have it as
you will have it.-All right, Senor Paulo," he
repeated, turning again towards him; "follow
your own opinion, and see how far you will be
able to get. You will soon regret not taking
my advice. Good-day, senor."
Paul withdrew, feeling glad that the con-
versation had ended thus; but scarcely had he
left the room, when Ugarto stamped violently
upon the floor, and pulled the bell with such
vehemence, that a servant answered it instantly
in great alarm.
"Let the major-domo Rivero come to me
immediately!" was his order.
The negro hurriedly obeyed the command;
and in a short time the person sent for entered

the apartment, and saluted Don Ugarto with
the greatest submissiveness. He was short and
crooked, and his countenance bore an expression
of slyness, cunning, and wickedness.
"What are your commands, sir ?" he in-
"Sit down, Rivero," said Don Ugarto, walk-
ing up and down the room in great excitement.
" Old Wilson has tried to play us a trick. If
we don't look out for ourselves, this fellow will
get upon our track, and we shall be driven out
in disgrace-unless we turn honest, and note
down every pound of silver that comes out of
the mine."
"But, sir, I do not understand your mean-
ing," replied Rivero, who was the major-domo
or head inspector of the mine. "What fellow
do you allude to ?"
"A German beggar that Wilson has sent
here. You can read his letter yourself. Old
Wilson recommends him to me, instructs me
to introduce him to all the details of the busi-
ness, and to leave him to choose his own work;
and the fellow seems to be so terribly honest,
and has so little respect for me, that I expect we
shall have enough to do to keep him in order."

"Honest, senor!" replied the inspector, with
a scornful laugh. "I should think there is
precious little honesty that would resist a few
silver bars."
"Ah, you judge of the fellow from yourself
and from me, but I can assure you, you're
mistaken. He is a German, and one of the
right sort. Would you believe it, that I offered
him a clerk's situation, with the prospect of
becoming first book-keeper, and instead of
jumping at it, he refused it with the greatest
contempt He will first see if he can't be
more useful in the mine than in the counting-
house He is a regular German bear that we
shall never be able to make a tool of."
"Well, well, senor, we must try him first,"
replied Rivero. We have managed so many
that I don't believe this fellow will prove any
difficulty. Anything can be done by bribery."
"Yes, with most people, but not with this
scoundrel. I can assure you he is a stiff-necked
"Every man has his price, and although we
may not be able to buy him over very cheaply,
we shall manage him at last. I have had too
much experience in this sort of thing."

"This fellow will baffle all your skill,"
repeated Don Ugarto, with a determination
that seemed to shut the mouth of the inspector,
whose only reply was a hateful grin.
"Very well," said he, "we must try; and if
we fail, there are plenty of holes and corners
here where people sit drinking and playing
cards to all hours of the night, and get their
daggers out occasionally; now, if one of these
should by accident happen to hurt our young
friend, we should have no particular reason to
regret it."
"But he will neither drink nor gamble. I
have tried him already, Rivero He would
only drink just what pleased him, not a drop
"That makes the matter worse than I
thought," replied the inspector, while his small
and wicked eyes gleamed with secret rage.
" A German that doesn't drink, and is honest,
and obstinate, and clever, as it seems to me-
for otherwise old Wilson wouldn't have sent
him-he will certainly be a stone of stumbling
to us. But, senor, all sensible men get such
stones out of their way, and that is what we
must do somehow or other. If we can't succeed


at the gambling-table, then we must send him
with an important commission to some place
forty or fifty miles distant; the roads are very
unsafe-all filled with Indians and other dan-
gerous characters; and if we only give the hint
that he would be a good prize, why, I would lay
anything that he wouldn't be allowed to go
very far without a hindrance. Many a fellow
has started on a good mule without being heard
of again."
"But that would not be much better than
murder," said Ugarto.
Murder! We shouldn't murder any one,
senor," replied Rivcro, with a loud laugh. "I
didn't think you had such a tender conscience,
my good sir! But just as you please. If we
are hunted away from here-well, I should
find another situation somewhere; while you-
I really don't know, my dear sir, whether you
would easily find such a comfortable post again.
I should certainly not give up such a situation
for the sake of a wandering German beggar.
But as you please, sir, as you please."
Rivero, you are right. I am a fool to think
so much about the affair," exclaimed Don
Ugarto, after a short pause. "But let us tempt

him first, before we take any severe measures.
If he is determined to be obstinate, then away
with him."
"Yes, yes; leave that to me, senor," replied
Rivero, with a cunning smile. But if I were
you, I should make short work with him. He
is a stranger now; nobody knows him, and
nobody will miss him. But later on, it will
be different, and-how are we to know that
he won't use his eyes, and report all our
secrets to old Wilson before we know where
we are? If he were only to have the least
suspicion "-
Oh, I have attended to that already," said
Don Ugarto, interrupting him. I have given
him the green room-where, you know, one can
hear and see everything-and besides that, I
have told Sancho to wait on him. He won't let
him go out of his sight; I have given him a
wink already."
"That is all very well for the present,"
replied Rivero; "but you know with certainty
that he hasn't a single friend or acquaintance
here yet. I don't need to tell you how people
whisper about us here in Pasco; and if any-
thing should occur to excite the suspicion of

this fellow, he might be more on the alert than
would be pleasant."
"Don't be afraid, Rivero; he is a stranger
here, and doesn't know a soul."
"Well, then, we will try what we can do;
and if we don't succeed, then-a short journey !
Farewell, senor. I suppose I shall soon make
the acquaintance of this honourable youth ?"
"He will be sure to visit the mine to-
morrow," replied Don Ugarto.
"He shall be welcome; but I fancy our
acquaintance will be rather short," said Rivero,
with a malicious smile; and with a deep bow
took his departure.



THE morning of tile following day had scarcely
dawned when Paul sprang from his bed, after a
refreshing night's sleep, and having dressed
himself, called his servant, who stood in readi-
ness to obey his commands.
"What is your name ?" he inquired.
"I called Sancho, your honour," was the
Sancho; very well. I am told you are to
be my servant. Will you serve me honestly
and faithfully ? Speak out, my friend."
"Sancho will be, yes," replied the negro,
quite confused by the friendliness and kindly
manner of his new master.
"Well, then, Sancho, I shall trust you," con-
tinued Paul, stretching out his hand to the
smiling negro, who scarcely ventured to put
it to his lips, being quite unused to such kind
treatment. "You will have very little to do,


Sancho, for I attend to myself as much as
possible; but whenever I give you any orders,
I must be able to depend on your careful and
immediate attention. Do you understand me,
friend Sancho ?"
"Yes, your honour," replied Sancho with a
happy grin.
Very well, then; we shall see," said Paul.
"If you please me, we shall be good friends
together; but if not, if I find any unfaithful-
ness on your part, we shall separate at once.
And now, Sancho, show me the way to the
Dolores silver mine. That is the name of Mr
Wilson's mine, isn't it?"
"Yes, senor. But will you not take breakfast
first ? Everything is ready."
"Look sharp, then, for time is precious, and
I have none to spare."
In a few moments, the table was spread; and
after a hasty meal, Paul set out for the mine,
escorted by his new servant. It was just six
o'clock when they reached Dolores; and the
Indians who had worked all night were leaving
to make room for the second division, or punta,
who worked during the day. About thirty
half-naked, miserable, starving, downcast-looking

Indians came along the road, with an inspector
at their head, and vanished in the entrance to
the mine, from which the others had just
emerged like ghosts. Paul could not look at
the poor creatures without sympathy, for their
wretched appearance shewed that they were
accustomed to very bad treatment.
"We must see who is to blame for that," said
he to himself; and after he had told Sancho to
amuse himself during the forenoon, and call for
him at twelve, he followed the punta into the
If Paul had expected to find the same order
and regularity that he had been used to at
home, where mining was carried on with the
greatest energy and skill, he soon found himself
thoroughly deceived. Even the shaft or entrance
of the mine gave proof of the grossest neglect.
The steep road led over half-rotten wood and
loose stones, which served as steps, and Paul
found it necessary to be very careful to avoid
falling as he made his way slowly along. But
bad as the entrance was, he found the mine
itself still worse, after he had succeeded in
reaching it with great risk to his life. All
the shafts and passages were in a wretched

condition, and he saw at every step that the
work had been carried on with the greatest
meanness and avarice. Nothing had been done
to render the mine safe; the most dangerous
parts had been left without any support; and
it was a perfect wonder to him that there had
been no accident through the mine falling in.
Full of anger at such carelessness, he went to
the inspector, who was idly smoking a cigar,
and looking at the workmen.
"Do you not think it is very dangerous and
wicked," said he, to carry on mining in this
reckless way ? You must know very well that
the lives of these unfortunate men are exposed
to the greatest risk: A slight accident at any
moment might destroy the mine, and bury you
all beneath the ruins, without hope of escape."
"You are quite right, senor," replied the
inspector with the greatest indifference. "We
lead a dangerous life here, but we can't alter
it: that belongs to the major-domo."
"And where is he ?" asked Paul. He goes
to work in a most careless way, either from
negligence or ignorance."
"Indeed, senor! Who are you, that you ven-
ture to speak in such a way of our major-domo,

Senor Don Rivero?" inquired the inspector in
the greatest surprise, while the Indians left off
their work to listen.
"Who am I? You will find that out soon
enough," replied Paul. It is high time Mr
Wilson sent some one here to put things to
rights. Where is the major-domo?"
Here. Have you anything to say to me,
senor?" inquired Rivero himself in a sarcastic
tone, coming out of a corner where he had been
hidden by one of the galleries of the mine. I
am Rivero, the major-domo of the Dolores mine,
and I ask who you are to take upon yourself to
talk here ?"
Ask your superior, Don Jose Ugarto,"
replied Paul quietly, looking at the major-domo
with such a severe and piercing glance, that he
was compelled to change colour. "It will be
sufficient for the present, if I assure you that
I have full right to be here, and see all that is
going on. My name is Paul Arnold; and now
to business."
Ah, Senor Don Arnoldo; yes, yes, I have
heard of you," said Rivero with a malicious grin.
"You are the German that Don Ugarto told
me of."


"Yes; and he will also have told you that I
have come here by Mr Wilson's orders," replied
Paul. "Don't you know, sir, that it is shameful
for property to be wasted as it is here? The
precious metal is destroyed, instead of being got
out carefully. There doesn't seem to be the
slightest thought of the future safety of the
The major-domo shrugged his shoulders in
contempt. "What do you know about mining
in this country?" said he. "When you have
been here for a year or two, and have got your
horns out a little, it will be quite time enough
to talk; but for the present it will be as well
for you to hold your tongue, young man."
Hold my tongue at such mismanagement as
this! exclaimed Paul in indignation. "Will
you deny, sir, that the way of carrying on the
work here shews the greatest neglect or igno-
rance ? Step this way, if you please. The
slightest shock of an earthquake would be
enough to bring the whole concern down about
your cars. Wherever I have been, there seems
to be the same neglect. Do you regard the
lives of these poor Indians so little, that you
expose them to danger in this way ?"

"Pah Indians! replied Rivero with ridi-
cule. "Who cares a straw for them? There
is no such scarcity of these miserable hounds.
Mr Wilson would be very little pleased if we
were to run up a lot of expenses, and ruin him
on their account."
"I think I know Mr Wilson better than
that," said Paul in noble anger. "But I see
very clearly that you are not disposed to make
any alteration; so it will be necessary to take
other steps. I will speak to Don Ugarto in the
meantime, and see what can be done."
"Speak to him, my good sir, and say what-
ever pleases you," was Rivero's answer; "but
for the present, if you please, don't hinder the
work, for these Indian beasts won't do a stroke
so long as they can catch a word of our friendly
conversation. Another time, Senor Arnoldo,
and up above, if you please."
With these words he turned on his heel;
and Paul left the mine full of anger, and
hastened to Don Ugarto, to whom he gave a
description of the recklessness and want of
order which seemed to prevail in all parts
of the mine. To his astonishment, Ugarto
listened to him with the greatest indifference,

and said that he would pay a visit to the mine
himself in a few days; and with this answer
Paul was obliged to be content.
Although always received with the greatest
coldness and unfriendliness by Rivero, Paul
visited the mine every day, observed the work
that was going on, spoke sometimes to the
Indians, who in the sweat of their brows hewed
out the silver ore, and carried it to the surface;
and waited patiently for the fulfilment of Don
Ugarto's promise to make a personal examina-
tion of the works. But the manager took good
care not to show his face, and the major-domo
persisted with the most contemptuous assurance
in his former method of carrying on the labour,
without paying the least attention to Paul's
presence. This circumstance aroused Paul's
attention, and led him to believe that Ugarto
and Rivero were in league together; and his
suspicions were confirmed by observing that
the ore was not taken to be separated from the
rock by the men belonging to the same gang
that had extracted it. He watched the opera-
tions carefully, but could not find out the reason
of this proceeding until he asked an old Indian,
who had worked in the mine for many years.

"Not now," the Indian whispered: "when
we leave work. Take care, senor, and follow
me: I will lead you to a safe spot."
Paul was struck by the man's words and
manner, but waited quietly till six o'clock,
when the men left off their work. Leaving the
mine a few minutes before them, he waited at
a little distance till the Indians made their
appearance. He then followed the old man to
a small hut, and took the seat which he offered
Now, senor, ask me any questions you like,"
said he, "and I will give you an answer."
But why do you make such a secret of it,
my friend ?" inquired Paul.
"For your safety, senor," replied the Indian
with a significant look. You don't know the
ground on which you stand. You neither know
Rivero nor Don Ugarto. You don't know that
you are surrounded by rogues and scoundrels,
who would put you out of the way without any
hesitation, if they had the least idea that you
watched them. Don't you guess where the silver
ore goes to that is left in the mine overnight ?"
"How should I? I shouldn't have asked you
if I had known."


"Well, Senor Don Arnoldo, you would not
have found it out from me, if you had not been
of a different stamp from those villains who
trample us poor Indians under foot, and wish
to keep us in perpetual slavery. You regard us
as men, but they treat us as mere beasts of
burden. We are all kept in a state of slavish
dependence, because we have been compelled to
borrow money from Don Ugarto when times
were hard. Once in debt, the poor Indian can
never free himself from the yoke, for he meets
with no justice from the white man who needs
his labour. If he runs away, he is pursued and
shot like a wild beast; if le struggles against
his fate, he is thrown into a dungeon, where
neither sun nor moon can be seen; if he com-
plains that he is cheated, he is laughed at,
beaten, and driven away, because he can't prove
the cheating; and so there is nothing else for
him to do but to drag along his miserable life
till death puts an end to his slavery. It's as
bad everywhere else as it is here; the owners
of the mines can't do without our labour, and
so they make us work either through cunning
or force."
"That is horrible!" exclaimed Paul, filled

with indignation and sympathy. "But if you
knew your fate, why did you plunge blindly
into misery by borrowing money from your
master ? "
"Distress, senor, and-I say it with sorrow-
the love of drinking," replied the old man with
a downcast look. "These sly men know that
our people can scarcely ever resist the tempta-
tion of strong drink, and so they lure the Indian
on from one thing to another, until he falls a
helpless prey to them."
"But Mr Wilson knows nothing of such
wickedness," exclaimed Paul. I could almost
swear that he is quite ignorant of such things
being done."
"You may be right, senor," answered the
Indian. Perhaps if you will take an interest
in our miserable condition, it may be improved.
We hope so, because we heard the way you
spoke to the major-domo, and our hearts were
rejoiced. You are not like him, and therefore
the Indians love you. None of them will lift
a hand against you, senor. But be cautious, and
remember what I tell you, for these wicked
fellows are very cunning, and you may not
always have any one to protect you."

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