The Creoles chewed coca and smoked tobacco. The negro luxuriated upon oranges and bananas, which he guards from the ring-tailed monkeys, who fancy the same food. This was his only annoyance, for he naturally sides with the white man.
Of the three colors of men, the cold country suits the red, the hot the black, and the temperate the white. On the steppes of Cochabamba the white man flourishes best. In the snowy regions the Indians seem to be less sensitive to cold; while in the heat of the tropical sun the black shows his teeth to most advantage.
Crossing the Espiritu Santo, we encamped on the chocolate plantation, Minas Mayo, near the bank of a stream of the same name. We had to wade; the current was not very rapid, but with some danger of losing our baggage, for the bottom was filled with round slippery stones, which made it difficult for the mules to keep their feet.
The family on this plantation were gathering coffee in bags slung by a strap round the neck, like the Brazilians gather it. The coffee-trees here are about the same size as those of Rio Janeiro, and loaded down with grains. There were only a few trees; the amount raised is sufficient for the consumption of the people in the neighborhood. The chocolate-trees are larger than those of Northern Brazil, and seem to be well supplied with a plentiful crop of green nuts. Plantain and papaya trees stand thick about a wooden house thatched with palm leaves. While I was sketching, Don Cornelio looked on, with a sugar-cane stalk in one hand and a long knife in the other. He cut off large mouthfuls which swelled out his cheek. A Yuracares Indian stood by who had overtaken us on his return from Cochabamba. The frock he wore was the uniform established among the Indians by the Jesuits. It is of white cotton cloth, after the fashion of a dress made by the savages from the bark of certain trees. When this Indian and his companion first arrived on the top of the mountains, they suffered much from cold. They doubled their "camisas," but the winds whistled about their legs so freshly they say they were taken sick. When they had delivered their despatches to the Bishop of Cochabamba, from a padre in their country, they hid away in the warmest ravine they could find, and remained there several days waiting clerical orders. As soon as they received permission to return, they scampered back to warm weather as fast as they could. They left Cochabamba after us. We have not delayed a day, so that they have travelled faster than our mules. On these terrible roads the Indian moves up or down at a steady pace, while the mule stops to blow and to rest.