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Owing to the difficulty of obtaining food, Colonel Miller now sent most of our infantry back to Macas; the Indians were thrown forward to act as a screen in front; while the rest of us bivouacked in some meadows near the village. The next day the colonel and I rode to within five hundred yards of Huamantanga, where we saw the enemy formed up in marching order. "What restless fellows they are!"

This did not sound very promising; but we managed to satisfy our hunger, and the men, having eaten their scanty rations, were drawn up ready for the start. At nine o'clock we left the camp, and a rapid march brought us to the village of Macas, which the enemy had just abandoned.

A couple of dirty sheep-skins lay upon the ground. These were the bed. Nothing more was to be seen. Yes, there was one thing more, and this gladdened the eyes of Guapo. In a bag that hung against the wall, and on which he soon laid his hands, he felt something a collection of hard round objects, about as big as large chestnuts. Guapo knew very well what these were. He knew they were "macas."

Guapo knew that he had got his hands upon a bag of dried macas, and although their owner was absent, he had already come to the determination to appropriate them for himself and party. His joy at the discovery had not subsided when another bag drew his attention, and this was the signal for another delightful surprise. His hand touched the new bag in a trice. There was a rattling sound within.

Who was this deliverer? They were welcome to all it contained. The macas, and maize, and a fresh steak from the wild bull, enabled them to make a most excellent supper.

At Cuenza, in the kingdom of Quito, I met with some men, who were employed by the bishop Marfil to seek at the east of the Cordilleras, in the plains of Macas, the ruins of the town of Logrono, which was believed to be situate in a country rich in gold.

Macas, then, are tuberous roots that grow in the elevated regions of the Puna, where neither ocas, ullucas, nor potatoes, will thrive. They are cultivated by the inhabitants, and in many parts constitute almost the only food of these wretched people. They have an agreeable and rather sweetish flavour, and, when boiled in milk, taste somewhat like boiled chestnuts.

After having closely inspected the banks of the Orinoco and the Rio Negro, where the granite everywhere pierces the soil; when we reflect on the total absence of volcanoes in Brazil, Guiana, on the coast of Venezuela, and perhaps in all that part of the continent lying eastward of the Andes; we contemplate with interest the three burning volcanoes situated near the sources of the Caqueta, the Napo, and the Rio de Macas or Morona.

I was invited to partake of breakfast. My host, being a bachelor, was his own cook, and some parched maize and `macas, with a roasted chinchilla, furnished the repast.

Yes, there was one thing more, and this gladdened the eyes of Guapo. In a bag that hung against the wall, and on which he soon laid his hands, he felt something a collection of hard round objects, about as big as large chestnuts. Guapo knew very well what these were. He knew they were "macas." What are macas? you will ask.