Our sudden arrival at Tafí had caused much comment among the inhabitants. They found it impossible to believe that we had come to that remote region in search of a small, dull-colored bird, and after a few days it became an open secret that we were regarded as spies--though just what nature of information we sought, could not be determined. They even went so far as to refer to the matter occasionally in a good-natured manner; and when we were away on hunting excursions, it was their custom to put our cook, a Bolivian, through a sort of “third degree” in an effort to compel him to confess the real object of our visit. Therefore, when we planned to move to the high peaks bordering the little valley, the natives considered their evidence complete; we were going, they said, to prepare a diagram of the country from our new point of vantage. The only person who really understood the purpose of our mission was a man from Tucuman who had been sent up to vaccinate the Indians. He started out each morning accompanied by two or three soldiers, rounded up all the Indians of a given locality, and vaccinated them. The natives did not at the time realize the significance of this act; but when, a few weeks later, the inoculations had had time to become effective, they grew frantic, and grim-faced little parties began to scour the country in search of the person who had “poisoned” them. Fortunately, none of the scouting-parties came our way, for to them all strangers look very much alike, and there was the possibility that one of us might have been mistaken for the doctor. The _paramo_ above Tafí is a bleak region, almost perpetually enveloped in mist. Work in this type of country possesses its disadvantages, for in addition to the intense cold and the lack of fuel, there is always the possibility that one may be trapped far from camp by banks of clouds which roll in unexpectedly! The cold, penetrating mist is so dense that it is impossible to distinguish objects but a few yards away, and the most familiar landmarks assume strange and fantastic outlines. In the event that one is overtaken by this phenomenon, there is nothing to do but wait until the mist lifts, which may be in a few hours, or perhaps, not until the next day. Strange to say, the inhospitable _paramo_ supports a varied fauna. Herds of wary guanacos feed on the tall, wiry grass growing in the more sheltered places; when alarmed, they flee to the inaccessible rocky slopes. The _paja_, or grass, harbors also a species of large tinamou, but the bird is loath to leave its safe cover, for no sooner does it take wing than hawks, which are always hovering about, swoop down and carry it away.