The hut contained little furniture, but there was a pile of skins, the proceeds of the Indian’s hunting since his return from his last expedition. He took off three or four of them, threw them on the ground, and motioned Stephen to take a seat while he busied himself in preparing a meal. Nothing was said of business until this was served. When it was finished the Indian rolled three cigars, and when these were lighted, and three cups of excellent coffee made, Pita said: “Now, señor, in what way can I serve you?” “I want to go down the Amazon to the coast.” “It is a long journey, long and difficult; I have never been so far. The farthest point that I have reached has been Barra, where the Madeira falls into the Solimoes.” “That is the Amazon,” Gomez explained. “It is called the Marañon here in Peru, but from the frontier it is known as the Solimoes.” “As far as the frontier,” Pita went on, “there are no great difficulties, and there are many towns on the banks; beyond that to Barra there are but one or two villages. The Mozon begins at Llata, some two hundred miles north of this. The road is a good one, for we pass through Pasco and Huanuco; there you can take boat, which will carry you as far as the frontier, and beyond that you will have to take another, for no Peruvians will venture so far from here.” “The señor wishes to escape towns,” Gomez said. “He has no papers, and wishes to escape questioning. You know what Spanish authorities are, and how suspiciously they view the passage of a stranger. Could you not take him down the Madeira?” “It is a terrible journey,” the Indian said. “Very few white men have ever descended the river. There are bad falls and bad Indians. I myself have never gone down it more than a few hundred miles. It would need much courage, señor, and even then things might turn out badly. I would not undertake such a journey single-handed, though with a good comrade I might adventure it. You could not get a boat unless you bought one, and, as a rule, men travel on light rafts, as these are safer on the rapids than boats. That way has the advantage of being a good deal shorter than going round by the Marañon, but the difficulties and dangers are very much greater.” “Do you love the Spaniards?” Stephen asked. The Indian’s face darkened. “They have been the destroyers of our race,” he said; “the oppressors of our country. I hate them with all my heart.”