the bull to madness; no banderilleros, with barbed darts; no heroic matador, ready with shining blade to give a mad and weary bull the coup de grace.  Here all is fun and frolic.  To be sure, the bull is duly annoyed by boastful boys or drunken Aymaras, who prod him with sticks and shake bright ponchos in his face until he dashes after his tormentors and causes a mighty scattering of some spectators, amid shrieks of delight from everybody else.  When one animal gets tired, another is brought on.  There is no chance of a bull being wounded or seriously hurt.  At the time of our visit the only animal who seemed at all anxious to do real damage was let alone.  He showed no disposition to charge at random into the crowds.  The spectators surrounded the plaza so thickly that he could not distinguish any one particular enemy on whom to vent his rage.  He galloped madly after any individual who crossed the plaza.  Five or six bulls were let loose during the excitement, but no harm was done, and every one had an uproariously good time.

Such is the spectacle of Copacabana, a mixture of business and pleasure, pagan and Christian, Spain and Titicaca.  Bedlam is not pleasant to one’s ears; yet to see the staid mountain herdsmen, attired in plumes, petticoats, epaulets, and goggles, blowing mightily with puffed-out lips on bamboo flageolets, is worth a long journey.

CHAPTER VI

The Vilcanota Country and the Peruvian Highlanders

In the northernmost part of the Titicaca Basin are the grassy foothills of the Cordillera Vilcanota, where large herds of alpacas thrive on the sweet, tender pasturage.  Santa Rosa is the principal town.  Here wool-buyers come to bid for the clip.  The high prices which alpaca fleece commands have brought prosperity.  Excellent blankets, renowned in southern Peru for their weight and texture, are made here on hand looms.  Notwithstanding the altitude—­nearly as great as the top of Pike’s Peak—­the stocky inhabitants of Santa Rosa are hardy, vigorous, and energetic.  Ricardo Charaja, the best Quichua assistant we ever had, came from Santa Rosa.  Nearly all the citizens are of pure Indian stock.

They own many fine llamas.  There is abundant pasturage and the llamas are well cared for by the Indians, who become personally attached to their flocks and are loath to part with any of the individuals.  Once I attempted through a Cuzco acquaintance to secure the skin and skeleton of a fine llama for the Yale Museum.  My friend was favorably known and spoke the Quichua language fluently.  He offered a good price and obtained from various llama owners promises to bring the hide and bones of one of their “camels” for shipment; but they never did.  Apparently they regarded it as unlucky to kill a llama, and none happened to die at the right time.  The llamas never show affection for their masters, as horses often do.  On the other hand I have never seen a llama kick or bite at his owner.