Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1890-10-11

Politico who fourished nearly fifty years
ago; and in the opposite wall is queer
old fountain, with water running into the
adobe basin from some unknown source.
| Presently a. boy came along, leading a
donkey to the fountain trough. The little
beast scrambled up over the high seats, as
1 if accustomed to it, and drank thirstily,
while the unchin rested himself by lying
fiat on his stomach and kicking up his
bare, brown heels. A young cholo, with a
| baby in her arms and another olive branch
tagging at her heels, sat down near me.
The older child, whom she called CUTLER
mo Spanish for William), in common
with all Peruvian small boys, carried a
sling, with which he continually SHE'D
pebbles at birds, beasts, passing pedes-
TRANS, or whatever CHANGED to attract his
attention, generally hitting the mark
amazingly well Nobody paid the slight
est attention to him, however, and en-
dured the pelting quite as a matter of
course. / tried to talk with the mother,
who seemed to be inclined to be commune
cative; but as her vocabulary was an odd
able to get much information except such
as smiles, shrugs and gestures could con-
yey.
Indians were constantly coming and GO
| ing-silent, picturesque figures, hurrying
along bare-footed behind their troops of
llamas, the latter shy and voiceless as
themselves. There is never any stir or
sound of labor here as in other countries,
though busy Indians are everywhere, Gid
ing noiselessly on their errands, like the
stars, 'unhasting yet unresting." Close by
the fountain another road branches off, an
ancient Inca thoroughfare, as shown by the
carefully stoned terraces or steps leading
up the hillside. Along the highway to
Lima strange landmarks are visible at in
tervals in the distance each-half cairn,
half shrine-built so long ago that by
whom or for what purpose nobody now
living can tell. To this day the modern
Indians decorate them with garlands of
flowers on the recurrence of an annual
fiesta, with some superstitious notion of
pleasing the spirits of their departed an
cestors.
In the outskirts of Puno there is a mod
ern monument not unlike those of the an
clients in outward appearance, but with a
different history. A number of years ago
some rascal stole the crucifxes, candle
sticks and other ornaments OF the cathedral,
intending to enrich himself by melting
them up into one solid lump of silver
But to his infinite disgust they would not
melt at ALL being largely composed of
alloy. To get rid of the worthless things
he buried them in the vacant field where
they were afterwards found and by order
of the priests a shrine was built over the
spot, so that the sacrilege to the church
property might be atoned for by the
prayers of the faithful, and money depos-
tied with which to buy new candlesticks.
The midsummer time at home is the
midwinter season of Peru, and though far
within the tropic of Capricorn the nights
and mornings at this altitude are very
chilly. But between 10 A. NJ. and 4 o'clock
P. NJ. the weather is perfection. Wrapped
in shawls, we sit on the veranda, taking
care to keep well in the sun, though that
luminary burns and tans one here as sell
dom elsewhere. There is barley fell in
front, and for the last week lazy chola
has been pretending to cut it, with short
scythe that looks like an exaggerated table
knife, working perhaps five minutes at
time, and then requiring half an hours
rest. Dragon-hies are buzzing about and
birds in the barley field are singing short
half notes, as if they, too, were subject to
the prevailing sirroche. In the distances
Lake Titicaca, with its small amount of
shipping and sacred island and ruined
temples. To us the most sacred island of
all is that rocky eminence nearest to shore,
surrounded by the bluest of blue water, on
whose top poor Orion and his companions
await the resurrection morning.
FANNIE B. WARD.