While at Volcan we stayed at the house of an Italian trader. He asked if we had any recent reports of the war, and then expressed the hope that it would last years longer, as he owned part interest in a copper-mine, and was receiving war prices for the much-needed metal. We decided not to accept his hospitality any longer and took the train to Tilcara. I have often met foreigners in South America (including some from the United States) who were representative of anything but the better class of citizens of their respective countries; it is unfortunate that many Latin Americans base their estimate of a people upon the appearance and doings of these few misguided and objectionable characters. [Illustration: Ploughing at Rosario de Lerma.] [Illustration: Tilcara, showing the stream and valley and the snow-capped Andes in the distance.] At Tilcara we lived with another Italian family, but of an entirely different type. The village, the elevation of which is eight thousand feet, stands about half a mile from the railway-station. We were engaging _peons_ to carry our luggage there when the man stepped up and offered us the use of part of his humble home, which stood within a hundred feet of the spot. We accepted the invitation, and during our entire stay were treated with great courtesy. There is a narrow valley between high, rugged, barren peaks, some of which are snow-capped. Parts of the depression are dry and semiarid; others, marshy and covered with high, rank grass. Small Indian huts built of stones or adobe are strewn about, and there are numerous fields from which the rocks have been gathered through years of effort so that the land may be cultivated. There were many birds. They represented a fauna intermediate between that of the high, cold plateau and that found lower down at Rosario de Lerma. Large red-breasted meadow-larks (_Troupialis_) were common and always found in pairs. Of hummers there were numerous kinds, attracted by clumps of flowering shrubs that grew alongside the fences; the giant humming-bird and the gorgeous coppery-tailed comet were particularly plentiful. The former are very stupid. They came fluttering along like awkward swallows and often settled comfortably on a branch near to us, from which they would inspect us at their leisure, while they chirped and darted out the tongue like a snake. One of the comets that we collected had eaten quantities of gnats and small ants.