As a general rule, we found that if these Indians were treated in a frank, honest manner they were quite amiable. The little woman we had engaged to bring us milk trudged down from the mountain-top daily in faithful compliance with her obligations. She brought cheese also, and occasionally a few eggs. As it gradually dawned upon her that we really could be trusted, she became talkative and seemed to take an interest in our occupation. She spoke Quechua only in common with practically that entire tribe, which makes no attempt to learn Spanish; or, if they are able to understand it, will make no effort to speak the language. [Illustration: Quechua Indians wearing the costume used during the reign of the Incas, five hundred years ago.] Upon seeing a woodpecker we had collected, she gave a sigh of satisfaction; for, according to the Indian’s belief, they are birds of ill omen. If a pair of them make a nest near one of the huts, they are said to be excavating a tomb for a member of the family who will soon die. Oven-birds are looked upon with favor and are encouraged to remain in the vicinity of the dwellings. Should a pair of the cheery singers place their large, domed nest of mud near by, good fortune will follow in their wake. Any one guilty of robbing a bird’s nest will become violently ill; but as birds flock to the planted areas in such great bands that an appreciable amount of damage is done to the fruit and ripening grain, their increase in numbers is discouraged by filling many nests with small stones. After the seeds have been planted, a network of strings is stretched across the fields, and sometimes a dead hawk suspended from a post in the centre serves as a scarecrow to frighten away the marauding visitors. When the crops ripen, a small boy called the “_piscomanchachi_” is stationed in each sector. He is armed with a sling and keeps up an incessant fusillade of stones; fortunately his aim is poor, but he succeeds in killing a few birds each day. These Quechuas lead a sedentary life. There are no more long, arduous journeys to far-away Lake Titicaca and Cuzco to participate in solemn festivals and gorgeous pageants. Their fields supply potatoes as of yore, and they still convert the tubers into their beloved _chuño_ by simply allowing them to freeze and dry. From the wheat they have learned to cultivate, a splendid quality of bread is made. Their flocks provide flesh and milk, and the wool so essential to the preservation of human life and well-being in the high altitudes. _Tola_ bushes and a peaty growth known as _yareta_ furnish an adequate supply of fuel; but should these be lacking, dung is used. The demands of civilization, however, will alter this mode of existence until little remains to remind us of the contented nation which at one time willingly bowed to the rule of the Children of the Sun.