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Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 
 in 2011 with funding from 
 
 Research Library, The Getty Research Institute 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/journeyacrosssou01sain 
 

I'AUL MARCOY. 
 
A JOURNEY 
 
 ACROSS 
 
 SOUTH AMERICA 
 
 FROM THE PACIFIC OCEAN TO THE ATLANTIC OCEAN. 
 
 BY 
 
 PAUL MARCOY. 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH SIX HUNDRED ENGRAVINGS ON WOOD, 
 
 DRAWN BY E. RIOU, 
 
 AND TWELVE MAPS, PRINTED IN COLOURS, FROM DRAWINGS BY THE AUTHOR. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 ILAY— AREQUIPA— LAMPA— ACOPIA— CUZCO— ECHABATI— CHULITUQUI- 
 TUNKINI— PAKUITCHA— TDMBUYA. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 BLACKIE AND SON, PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS, E.C 
 
 GLASGOW AND EDINBURGH. 
 
 1873. 
 
GLASGOW : 
 
 W. G. BLACKER AND CO., PRINTERS, 
 
 VTLI.AFIELD. 
 
TEANSLATOE'S PEEEACE 
 
 The journey of M. Paul Marcoy across South America, from the Pacific Ocean to 
 the Atlantic, is one of the most remarkable of modern times; not so much for any 
 serious peril the author encountered, as for the curious information he gathered among 
 the mixed races and the savage tribes through whose territories he passed. To turn all 
 the opportunities to account presented by such a journey it needed that the traveller 
 should be as ready with his pencil as with his pen, and that he should possess some- 
 thing more than a general acquaintance with ethnology and several branches of natural 
 history. In all these respects M. Paul Marcoy is, as his compatriot M. Emile Darier 1 
 has observed, "a type of the model traveller," wanting no quality or talent which 
 would enable him to use to the best advantage the succession of objects and of 
 picturesque scenes that opened to his gaze. "A naturalist, he describes with a master 
 hand the fauna and flora of these countries; an archaeologist, he restores from the 
 ruins they have left the temples and palaces, shattered monuments of the power of 
 the Incas; an ethnologist, he carefully distinguishes each of the Indian tribes through 
 whose territory he passes; a linguist, he gives a specimen of their idioms, showing 
 the differences and analogies between them; a musician, he notes down their death- 
 songs, their laments, their dance tunes; a draughtsman, lastly, his album has furnished 
 the originals of the engravings with which, to the number of six hundred, M. Eiou 
 has enriched the published account of his journey." Further, I may be allowed to 
 observe as his translator, that M. Marcoy has told the story of his wanderings in a 
 very fair literary style, associating with exactness in detail a freedom of hand and 
 breadth of colouring which every lover of nature must appreciate ; and combining with 
 a good humour which is proof against every mishap, and is often heightened by a 
 grotesque incident, a sympathy with the "harmless savagery" of Indian life and char- 
 acter which shows his true manliness. How far I have succeeded in reproducing 
 these characteristics of the original narrative in English is for the reader to judge, but 
 I may at least claim to have performed a somewhat arduous task conscientiously. 
 
 M. Marcoy's narrative differs essentially from the important works of Mr. A. E. 
 Wallace 2 and Mr. H. W. Bates, 3 whose object in visiting the valley of the Amazons was 
 to make a collection of objects which might assist in solving the problem of the origin 
 
 1 In Le Steele. 2 Travel* on the Amazon and Rio Negro, 1853. 3 The Naturalist on the River Amazons, 1863. 
 
 b 
 
vi TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. 
 
 of species, and whose researches have added many thousands of new species to the 
 classified lists of science. Unlike those distinguished naturalists, M. Paul Marcoy is, au 
 fond, and always, the artist, in search of materials for his pencil; and the student of 
 humanity, observant of all that was new and piquant in social life and character. His 
 science was sufficient for the purposes indicated above, but it was after all accessory to 
 his main object — that of setting clearly before the reader what he had to describe as a 
 traveller who courted adventure, but who was as ready to sketch a typical portrait or a 
 gorgeous tropical landscape, as to gossip with the indigenes in their own habitations, or 
 to compare notes Avith the priests in the mission establishments over a glass of the 
 native rum. 
 
 In his character of geographer M. Marcoy has distinguished himself by giving exact 
 details, accompanied with carefully drawn maps, of the water system of the Amazons, 
 correcting numerous and important errors committed by more than one received 
 authority. Much valuable data, therefore, will be found in this work, bearing on the 
 question of the navigability of the great river and its tributaries. Commercial readers 
 will find their advantage in comparing what is here stated Avith the reply of the Brazilian 
 minister of foreign affairs, Don Antonio Limpo de Abreu, to the minister of the United 
 States in 1853, when the opening of the Amazon to foreign commerce was the subject 
 of debate between the two governments. His excellency then said: 1 
 
 " The basin of the Amazon being almost entirely a desert, its navigation could not, 
 under existing circumstances, be of any interest or advantage to nations other than those 
 on its borders. The greater part of the Amazonian territory appertaining to Brazil 
 composes two provinces: that of Para, at its embouchure; and that of the Amazon 
 strictly so called, in the interior. For the commerce of the province of Para the port of 
 Belen, which is open to the ships of all nations, amply suffices; the population of the 
 interior province does not exceed thirty thousand souls, who are for the most part 
 indigenes, and but small consumers of foreign produce. 
 
 "The department of Maynas, occupying the interior part of the basin of the Amazon, 
 is still more sparingly inhabited. The Peruvian population, which might otherwise give 
 some employment to foreign commerce, is separated by the wall of the Andes; and the 
 road which provisions must naturally take can hardly be any other for a long time to 
 come than the Pacific. The territories occupied by the Republics of Ecuador, Venezuela, 
 and New Granada, traversed by the (northern) affluents which debouch in this vast 
 reservoir, are also very thinly inhabited. The principal cities, the centres of population, 
 can never be advantageously supplied by fluviatile navigation. Were the Amazon 
 absolutely thrown open to commerce it is by the Atlantic and the Pacific Oceans that 
 these states would maintain their relations with the rest of the world. It must further 
 be added, that the affluents of the great river are only navigable by vessels of slight 
 draught quite unfit to sail the ocean; and in addition to this, they could scarcely be 
 utilized without the execution of great hydraulic works." 
 
 The reader of M. Marcoy's narrative will be disposed to think that the above 
 statement fairly represents the fact. It may be parenthetically remarked, however, 
 
 1 La Politique du Brisil, Paris, 1867. 
 
TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. vii 
 
 that notwithstanding the representations in this official document, tending to show that 
 neither the United States nor any other foreign power could allege sufficient reasons 
 for demanding the free navigation of the king of rivers, a decree of the Brazilian 
 government, dated December 7, 1866, professed to open the Amazon and its affluents, 
 the Bio Negro, the Madeira, the Tapajos, and the Tocantins, and also the river San 
 Francisco, to the Commerce of all nations. The same decree fixed the limits of 
 navigation as follows: — The Amazon was opened as far as the Peruvian frontier, the 
 Tocantins to Cameta, the Tapajos to Santarem, the Madeira to Borba, the Bio Negro 
 to Manaos, and the Sau Francisco to Penedo. How illusory was the privilege thus 
 limited will appear from a glance at the maps with which M. Marcoy has illustrated 
 his narrative. These rivers, too, had previously been declared free by the republics, 
 and it would really seem, as a French writer has stated, that the Brazilian government 
 was influenced by political considerations to follow their lead. 1 
 
 Setting aside the physical impediments to the navigation of the Amazon arising from 
 causes which are pointed out by M. Marcoy, it is not conceivable that this river should 
 ever play the part in civilization of the Nile or the Mississippi. Its embouchure under 
 the equator, and its general direction along that line, must always operate to its dis- 
 advantage. Expensive hydraulic works and canals of communication might, in the 
 course of years, overcome some of the impediments which a careful study of this 
 narrative will enable the reader to appreciate; but such works could only be executed 
 and kept in repair at a considerable cost to the State, and, after all, it must be a 
 question whether the free navigation of the Biver Plate is not of more immediate 
 commercial importance than the opening tip of the Amazons. 
 
 Another point of great interest on which authentic data will be found in the record 
 of M. Marcoy's wanderings is that of the geographical positions of the tribes which 
 formed the empire of the Incas, and their ethnological relations to each other. Students 
 of ethnology and geography are recommended to compare with the statements of the 
 author the paper read on the same subject by C. B. Markham, Esq., the secretary of the 
 Boyal Geographical Society, on the 10th of July, 1871, and subsequently published in 
 the society's Transactions. 2 The appendix on the name Aymara, and the classification 
 of tribes at the end of that paper, also furnish valuable data in direct relation to M. 
 Marcoy's elucidations. I will only further observe here, that M. Marcoy's conclusions 
 are opposed to the idea that no connection is to be found between the civilization of 
 North and South America; 3 while, on the other hand, they are consistent with the 
 remark of Lesley, 4 that " the most nobly organized races are the most migratory, 
 because they have the faculties of self-protection in the highest state of efficiency." 
 They also agree in general with the authorities quoted by Mr. C. Staniland Wake, 
 tending to establish the Polynesian or the Asiatic affinity of certain of the South 
 American tribes. 5 
 
 1 La Politique du Bresil, Paris, 1867. - Vol. xii. p 2S1, sqq. 
 
 2 An American savant, Mr. D. G. Brinton, says: "No connection whatever has been shown between the civilization of 
 North and South America ;" and again, "The most that can be said with certainty, is that the general course of migrations 
 in both Americas was from the high latitudes toward the tropics, and from the great western chain of mountains toward 
 the east" {Myths of the New World, pp, 01, 34). 
 
 4 .Van's Origin and Destiny, sketched from the Platform of the Sciences, p. 115. 6 Chapters on Man, pp. 200-229. 
 
viii TRANSLATORS PREFACE. 
 
 The well-informed reader will scarcely be surprised to find that the account given by 
 M. Marcoy of the manners and morals of the natives is not very dissimilar from the 
 reports of the same people given by travellers and residents in the country a hundred 
 years ago. From the earliest period of their history the inhabitants of the Iberian 
 Peninsula regarded commerce as a painful and servile calling; 1 and this prejudice 
 survived for a long while the foundation of the South American colonies, 2 if it does not 
 still exist. Their proud dislike of trade was in keeping with the natural indolence of 
 their character; and both were unhappily encouraged by the discovery of gold in the 
 New World, and the ease with which Peru and Mexico were conquered. The slothful 
 waste of their great opportunities, and of the material resources which were thus 
 placed within their reach, added to their religious bigotry and the tyranny of their 
 rule, could not fail to react on the native character. That civilization which ought to 
 have aroused in these children of nature the progressive instiucts which are common 
 to all mankind, excepting perhaps the aborigines of Australia, presented herself in 
 two aspects equally forbidding. In the one hand she held a sceptre of gold for the 
 conquering race; in the other a rod of iron for the indigenous population. 3 On the 
 one hand her favourites were demoralized by self-indulgence and superstition; on the 
 other, her victims were brutalized and sunk to the lowest depths of despair by the 
 hardness of their lot. A miracle must have been wrought, if in the course of a few 
 generations the results of the mixture of the two races, or of the perpetual subjection 
 of the one by the other, had been different from what they are. 4 
 
 ELIHU RICH, f.r. hist. s. 
 London, May 12th, 1873. 
 
 1 Memoires et Considerations sur le Commerce et les Finances d Espagne, turn. i. pp. 4. 14, sqq. 
 
 2 Strictly speaking the Spanish American possessions were considered in law, from the lime of the conquest, as integral 
 parts of the monarchy, not as colonies of the mother country; they were held in fief by the crown in virtue of a grant 
 from the pope, and their affairs were supposed to be regulated, not by the government of Spain, but by the king, assisted 
 by a special board, called the Council of the Indies. A separate code of laws also was established expressly for them, called 
 the Laws of the Indies {Journal -written on the Coasts of Chili, Peru, and Mexico, by Captain Basil Hall, vol. ii. p 233). 
 
 3 Histoire Philosophique et Politique des Etablissements et du Commerce des Europeens dans les deux Indes, iii. 248. 
 
 * No doubt the short-sighted and barbarous colonial system of Spain has in its turn reacted on the mother country 
 and contributed greatly to its degradation. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 FIRST STAGE. 
 
 ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Hay and its shores. — The Vicar oj Bray. — A bachelor's breakfast. — / pede fausto. — While the muleteers 
 drink, the author gossips. — The Pampas and their bones. — A tampu or h6tel bill in the desert. — 
 Bird's-eye view of the valley of Arequipa. — Scientific details in which the general reader will feel 
 but little interest. — Halting-places and peeps of scenery. — A pleasant little prospect from a bridge. 
 — Arequipa and its etymology. — Earthquakes. — An eloquent plea in favour of the volcanic cone 
 Misti. — Churches and convents of Arequipa. — Something about religious people in general, and 
 religious ladies in particular. — The sti'eets, the houses, and the inhabitants of the city. — The fair 
 sex of Arequipa. — Matrimonial traps. — Modes and fashions. — Indian carpet-bearers. — Impartial 
 coup-cCoeil from a fountain. — Pen-and-pencil sketches. — Joys of the carnival. — A capital of 800,000 
 francs represented by egg-shells. — Pleasantries of Shrove Tuesday. — Memento, homo, quia pulvis es. — 
 The author remembers that he has a long journey to go in a short time, 1-65 
 
 SECOND STAGE. 
 AREQUIPA TO LAMPA. 
 
 The Pampilla and its charcoal-burners. — Station of Apo. — What the traveller finds, and what he 
 experiences on arriving there. — The soroche. — Occasional gossips en route. — Disappointment at Huallata. 
 — A storm 15,000 feet above the sea. — Hospitality in a sepulchre. — Retrospective coup-d'osil of the 
 Aymara nation. — The Lake of Gold and Lake of Silver. — Elegy on a rooster. — A night at Uompuerta. 
 — The landscape and other things worth observing. — Cabana and Cabanilla. — A priest, according to the 
 gospel. — About a giant humming-bird and yellow Ranunculi. — Aspect of Lampa at nightfall. — An 
 importer of priuted cottons (rouenneries). — Manner of honouring the saints. — Effect produced on the 
 organs of vision by the sharp application of a bit of foie de volatile. — The strawberry of Chili, and its 
 use as a stimulant. — The day after a revel. — The author resumes his journey, reflecting on the past 
 history and the present state of the province of Lampa, 67-110 
 
 THIRD STAGE. 
 
 LAMPA TO ACOPIA. 
 
 The plain of Llalli. — How to soften the heart of the Indians and procure a dinner. —Affecting history 
 of a mother-in-law and a daughter-in-law. — Manibus date lilia plenis. — A royal courier. — If day 
 succeeds day in Peru with little in which they resemble each other, village succeeds village with little 
 in which they differ from each other. — Apachecta, a monument crowned with flowers. — Pucara, its 
 etymology and its fair. — A sick man and a doctor. — A new balsamic preparation recommended to 
 any good wife who has a bully for a husband. — Dithyrambic essay on the subject of streams. — Drunken 
 farewells. — The cure Miranda. — A pastoral with a curious accompaniment of stone-throwing. — 
 vol. i. c 
 
; CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Santa Rosa. — A fete in the midst of the snows. — The postmaster of Aguas-Calientes. — Something 
 that distantly resembles the marriage of Gamache le Riche. — The author discloses in a familiar epistle 
 the blackness and perfidy of his soul. — The temple of Huiracocha. — Two miraculous crucifixes. — 
 Useful notes on the beer of Combapata, and the manner in which it is brewed.— Remarks upon 
 the past history of the Canas and Canchis Indians. — The question arises whether Csesar shall pass the 
 Rubicon. — At Acopia, 111-150 
 
 FOURTH STAGE. 
 
 ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 Dissertation on the province of Quispicanchi, which the reader may pass by. — Acopia, its pretended 
 ruins and its tarts. — Compromising hospitality. — The widows Bibiana and Maria Salome. — A demon- 
 stration that if all men are equal in the sight of death, they are not so in the sight of fleas. — 
 A dream of happiness. — The Quebrada of Cuzco. — Andajes and its pistachio-puddings. — The Chingana 
 (or cave) of Qquerohuasi. — A quarry worked in the time of the empress Mama Ocllo Huaco. — 
 A botanical discourse which all the world may comprehend. — The traveller laments his spent 
 youth and lost illusions. — A muleteer may be at once a herbalist and a logician. — Quiquijana 
 and the great stones of its little river. — Something about Urcos, the chief village in the province 
 of Quispicanchi. — The Mohina lake and its lost chain of gold. — Zoology and arboriculture. — Huaro, its 
 steeple, its weather-cock, and its famous organ. — Valleys and villages characterized, en passant, by 
 a word. — The village of Oropesa. — Why called Oropesa the Heroic. — The traveller has another 
 squabble with his guide. — Sketch of San Jerouimo. — San Sebastian, and its noble families. — The 
 tree of adieux. — The convent of La Recoleta, its prior and its monks. — The Corridor-du-Ciel and 
 the Devil's Pulpit. — A monolithic chamber.— Three sorcerers of Goya in a holy- water font. — By 
 what road we arrived among the descendants of the Sun. — Silhouette of a capital. — Last words 
 of counsel from the lips of Wisdom in the person of a muleteer. — The author packs his trunks with 
 one hand, while writiug his memoirs with the other. — Cuzco, ancient and modern, 151-312 
 
 FIFTH STAGE. 
 
 CUZCO TO ECHARATT. 
 
 A few words about the road which leads from Cuzco to the Pampas of Anta. — Proof that a confidential 
 servant may be at the same time a rogue, a gourmand, and an impostor. — The clouds of heaven. — 
 Day-dreams of the traveller on arriving at Mara. — Intervention of Ahriman and Ormuzd apropos 
 of a cake of chocolate. — The duty of forgiving and forgetting offences. — The goddess of Pintobamba. 
 — Souvenirs and silhouettes. — The ravine of Occobamba. — Here lies a noble heart. — Bird's-eye view of 
 the ruins of Ollautay-Tampu. — The record and the tragedy. — The traveller who had counted on dessert 
 with his dinner gets nothing but dry bread. — Pass (port or natural road) of the Cordillera of Occo- 
 bamba. — Poetic monologue interrupted by a thunder-clap. — Philosophic reveries in a shady path. — 
 Arrival at Occobamba. — The traveller invokes the aid of Justice, represented by an alcalde. — Judgment 
 and execution done on Jos6 Benito. — To what lengths will go a mother's love. — Description of a 
 fountain. — A shoulder of mutton. — The author is compelled to make his own soup. — The alcalde and 
 his two better halves. — Essay upon local topography. — A dinner at Mayoc. — The bill to pay. — What 
 it costs to talk about marriage with widows of a certain age. — Idyl in imitation of Theocritus. — 
 Metarie and chickens at Unupampa. — Hacienda de los Camotes, or Farm of Sweet Potatoes. — Etymo- 
 logy not always common sense. — Something that recals Baucis and Philemon of classical memory. — 
 Sta, viator! — Hospitality of a storekeeper. — Portrait in pastel of a grand lady. — The hacienda of 
 Tian-Tian and its major-duomo. — Dissertation upon the Theobroma Cacao.— Ornithology. — Varied 
 aspects of the landscape. — Exploring the centre of a flower, the author's nose is seized by a pair of 
 pincers. — The hacienda of La Chouette. — The Hibiscus mutabilis. — Conversation through the laths of 
 a venetian-blind. — The forsaken one. — A flower, white in the morning, red at noon, and purple in 
 the evening. — Sor Maria de los Angeles. — How a man may be compelled to keep a secret. — Biography 
 and physiology of four young girls. — The traveller sups with the governor of Chaco. — At Echarati, . 313-306 
 
CONTENTS. xi 
 
 SIXTH STAGE. 
 
 ECHAEATI TO CHULITUQUI. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The hacieuda of Bellavista. — An old acquaintance. — Rehabilitation of a manager who had become a sot. 
 — Father Bobo and Father Astuto. — All the truth and nothing but the truth. — Visit to the mission 
 of Cocabambillas. — The glass of lemonade and the silver spoon : apologue. — Proof that a Franciscan 
 monk is the superior in diplomacy of a travelling artist. — Details and portraits. — The author accom- 
 plishes a pious pilgrimage across the hacienda of Bellavista. — A familiar epistle. — The secretary of 
 "a most serene highness." — Nee pluribus iurpar. — One of the lights of science. — " Vanity of vanities, 
 all is vanity." — Thanks to some glasses of orange-wiue, the author learns a good deal of which he 
 was before ignorant. — Meddle not with edge-tools nor with a man's amour-propre. — Departure for the 
 bauks of the Chahuaris. — The Antis Indians. — How the author tried to discover if the race of mute 
 dogs is extinct, as some of the learned believe. — While out botanizing, he finds not only flowers but 
 cartouche-boxes. — The mass at departure. — Exchauge of farewells between those who go and those 
 who remain. — Buen viage! — First rapids and first salutes of the waves. — Mancureali. — An enormous 
 capital represented by twelve iron hatchets of Biscayan manufacture. — Illapani. — Bivouac at Chuli- 
 tuqui. — A confidence which the author, and consequently the reader, were far from expecting, . . 397-442 
 
 SEVENTH STAGE. 
 CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 
 
 Hymn to Aui-ora. — Disastrous effects of a night passed in the open air. — The shore at Mapitunuhuari. — 
 In chase of a raft. — The situation is aggravated and becomes more complicated than ever. — We are 
 reminded, after an interval of three thousand years, of the wrath of Achilles and the pride of Aga- 
 memnon. — A raw ham regarded as poison. — While the Franco-Peruvian expedition is considering 
 which of the saints it ought to invoke, the author amuses himself by correcting some altitudes. — 
 Monograph on the cock-of-the-rock. — Copy of an authentic deed. — An oath taken on a breviary in the 
 absence of the Gospel. — Farewell for ever on the shores of Coribeni. — A bad night passed at Sirialo. 
 — The site of Polohuatiui. — Evidence that the theories of M. Proudhon are more widely diffused than 
 people generally imagine. — The Antis of Sangobatea. — Blue and purple dogs. — Anthropological studies. 
 — Simuco the bowman, and how he bought his second wife. — A geographical lesson on the shore at 
 QuitinL — A baptism. — A captain godfather, and a lieutenant godmother. — A musical phrase of Herold 
 confided to the echoes of Biricanani. — The calm waters of Canari. — A ready-made picture of genre. — The 
 ajoupas of Manugali. — How the Franco-Peruvian expedition, following the example of Nausicaa, the 
 daughter of Alciuous, hung its wet linen to dry on the shore. — The disaster of Pachiri. — The impossi- 
 bility of devoting oneself to a study in botany. — The rapids of Yaviro. — The orator of Saniriato. — 
 The rapid of Sintulini. — Death of Father Bubo. — How a captain of a frigate and his lieutenant lost their 
 shirts while preserving their presence of mind. — Date obolum Belisario. — Story of a double nightcap. — 
 Divine justice and vengeance follow crime. — From Charybdis to Scylla. — A chief of a scientific expe- 
 dition suspended bv the armpits. — The rapid of Tunkini. — Description of a gorge or jahon.— Sudden 
 passage from darkness to light. — The American plaius, 443-504 
 
 EIGHTH STAGE (first section). 
 TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 
 
 A disappointed hope. — A wonderful tree. — The Antis fashion of bidding farewell to their friends and 
 acquaintances. — The author avoids an imaginary danger only to fall into a real one. — Arrival at 
 Antihuaris. — Ituriminiqui-Santiago. — A sultan and his odalisques. — Geology, botany, and hydrography 
 combined. — A menagerie on a raft. — About the antipathy of apes for music. — Fall of forest trees.— 
 With what pleasure geographers will learn that the rivers of Paucartampu, Mapacho, and Camisia, 
 which they have believed to be distinct, are one and the same river, under three different names. — ■ 
 
 
xii CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Arrival at Bitiricaya. — First interview with the Chontaquiros Indians. — Jeronimo the tattooed 
 Christian. — The question of the preponderance of the Chontaquiros over the Antis is for the first time 
 discussed. — Lamentable history of the missionary Bruno, treacherously killed by a bell-ringer. — 
 Dissertation on the past and present history of the Antis Indians. — It is proved by the formula 
 of a + b that the Chontaquiros Indians are at once excellent rowers and queer fellows to deal with. — 
 Compulsory approximation of the chiefs of the united commissions. — How the Count de la Blanche- 
 Epine finds to his cost that there are haricots and haricots, as there are eggs and eggs. — A house 
 at Sipa. — Picture of the interior, with effects of light and shadow. — Collision with the trunk of a 
 Siphonia elastica. — The author and his ape have a scuffle on the river. — Hospitality in a canoe. — 
 Memorable combat between an Ateles niger and an Ateles rufus. — The shores of the Apurimac. — A 
 box of preserved sardines. — A coup d'oeil, en passant, of the river Tampu-Apurimac. — The mission 
 of Santa Rosa and its converts. — False Christians and genuine rogues. — Something about the Apu- 
 Paro and the mixed population of its shores. — Man regarded as an animated accessory of the land- 
 scape. — The three dwellings at Consaya. — How the chief of the French commission, when trying to 
 ride a winged chimera, receives a kick from a fantastic animal. — Arrival at Paruitcha. — Dissertation 
 on the past history and present state of the Chontaquiros Indians, 505-588 
 
DIRECTIONS FOR PLACING THE MAPS AND PORTRAIT. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 Portrait or PAUL MAECOY, 
 
 Sketch Map of SOUTH AMERICA, 
 
 Itinerary Map No. I. — ILAY TO SICUANI,. 
 
 Do. II. — SICUANI TO CHULITUQUI, . 
 
 Do. III. — CHULITUQUI TO CUNTAMANA, 
 
 Frontispiece. 
 . Tage 4 
 
 • „ 70 
 . „ 310 
 
 • „ 446 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 Itinerary Map No. IV. — CUNTAMANA TO NAUTA, 
 
 Do. V. — NAUTA TO TABATINGA, 
 
 Do. VI. — JURUPARI TAPERA TO FONTEBOA, . 
 
 Do. VII. — FONTEBOA TO COARY, .... 
 
 Do. VIII. — COARY TO BARRA DO RIO NEGRO, 
 
 Do. IX. -LOWER AMAZON 
 
 Do. X. —INDEX MAP to the Itinerary Maps, . 
 
 Frontispiece. 
 
 . Page 282 
 336 
 390 
 446 
 513 
 513 
 
FIEST STAGE. 
 
 TLAY TO AREQUIPA 
 
 (PERU). 
 
 Vul. I 
 
POKT AND VILLAGE OF ILAY. 
 
 FIB ST STAGE. 
 
 ILAY TO AEEQUIPA. 
 
 Hay and its shores. — The Vicar of Bra;/. — A bachelor's breakfast. — / pede fausto. — While the muleteers drink, the 
 author gossips. — The Pampas and their bones. — A tampu or hotel bill in the desert. — Bird's-eye view of the valley 
 of Arequipa. — Scientific details in which the general reader will feel but little interest. — Halting-places and peeps 
 of scenery. — A pleasant little prospect from a bridge. — Arequipa and its etymology. — Earthquakes. — An eloquent 
 plea in favour of the volcanic cone Misti.— Churches and convents of Arequipa. — Something about religious people 
 in general, and religious ladies in particular. — Tlie streets, the houses, and the inhabitants of the city. — The fair 
 sex of Arequipa. — Matrimonial traps. — Modes and fashions. — Indian carpet-bearers. — Impartial covp-d'ail from a 
 fountain. — Pen-and-pencil sketches. — Joys of the carnival. — A capital of 800,000 francs represented by egg-shells. — 
 Pleasantries of Shrove Tuesday. — Memento, homo, quia pulvis es. — The author remembers that he has a long journey 
 to go in a short time. 
 
 Ilay, situated on the coast of Peru, in latitude 17^ 1' south, and longitude 72° 10' west, 
 is the commercial port and headquarters of the customs of the department and town of 
 Arequipa. Its bay, of an irregular outline, may have a circuit of about three miles, and 
 is bounded by a double range of /omas or low hills, of a yellowish tint and dull aspect, 
 disposed in the form of an amphitheatre, and presenting to a third part of their height 
 
4 PERU. 
 
 a wall of traehytic rocks, forming a natural rampart which prevents the slipping down 
 of the sands and marine deposits. The continued action of the waves, driven 
 furiously against the coast by the south wind, has polished the surface of these 
 rocks, cut perpendicularly in many places like a cliff; and at their base masses of 
 porphyry, amygdalite, and syenite, half submerged, lift here and there their black 
 backs above the water. At the bottom of the bay a great rock, like a ruined 
 tower, is connected with the shore by a complicated arrangement of beams, and 
 planks, and rope ladders. This rock or artificial construction, call it what you will, 
 serves to the sea-faring population as a wharf or quay, and to the custom-house 
 officers as an observatory. The custom-house itself, represented by a mere shed built 
 of planks, occupies one side of the scaffolding, beyond Avhich a foot-path winding up 
 a steep ascent conducts us in about ten minutes to the village of Hay, built upon the 
 shoulder of a hill at an elevation of some 600 feet above the level of the Pacific 
 Ocean. 
 
 It woidd be difficult to conceive anvthing more desolate than the scene which 
 lies at the traveller's feet, when, having reached the summit of this hill, he casts 
 his eye over the surrounding country. From north to south nothing is visible but 
 sand-dunes and craggy cliffs, shores strewed with drift-wood, long stretches of salt- 
 petre and sea-salt, heaps of calcareous deposits, stony islets covered with guano, 1 
 and rocks of all forms and colours. The purity of the air, the intensity of the 
 light, the unalterable blue of sea and sky, bring out in sharp relief all the details of 
 the weird scenery and, leaving none of its features in shadow, impress the beholder 
 with a sense of blinding immensity, of melancholy splendour, and implacable repose. 
 
 The Bay of Hay when viewed from the offing is seen to be of a crescent 
 shape, the points sharp and bent back. VieAved from Cape Cavallo on the north, 
 or from the rocks of Ho to the south, it suggests the idea of an immense half- submerged 
 fish. Myriads of sea-birds, from the bloated pelican to the slender sea-swallow, which 
 all day long hover and wheel, rise on the wing and suddenly redescend in the dazzling 
 sunlight, complete the illusion. One might believe he was gazing on the carcass 
 of some stranded whale, on which these voracious birds had gathered together to 
 feast. 2 
 
 Every year some forty vessels, bound from Europe or North America to Valparaiso 
 and the intermediate ports, coast along the shore, and stay at Hay a short time to 
 receive the products of the country, which are there collected. On these occasions, 
 for a few days a sort of galvanized life is imparted to the port and its melancholy 
 village; the echoes, accustomed to repeat only the wailings of the wind, the murmur 
 of the waves, and the bellowing of the seals, are awakened by drunken songs and a 
 babble of strange tongues. Soon, however, the ship weighs anchor, and the accus- 
 tomed dulness resumes its empire. 
 
 1 Correctly, Imano. There is no letter g in tlie Quichua idiom. 
 
 2 Immense shoals of sardines are every year stranded on these coasts between the 14th and 22d degrees of latitude, 
 and they sometimes draw in their wake an unfortunate whale, which is left dry on the sand, a victim to its voracity. 
 The author himself observed this fact twice in five years. 
 
D'UTH AMEMO& 
 
 Ti i ill 11 si ! Lte die coute of 
 
 M" PAUL U AH TOY 
 
 ACROSS THE CONTINENT. 
 
 
I LAY TO AREQUIPA. 5 
 
 One line morning in the month of July — the season of winter in these latitudes — 
 I found myself on board the Vicar of Bray, an honest three-master hailing from 
 Liverpool, in company with the captain of the ship, the English consul at Hay, 
 and a few of the notables of Arequipa. The motive of our gathering was an invitation 
 to lunch with the captain, which was already of fifteen days' standing. It was 
 nearly eleven o'clock, and the breakfast or lunch, which had been announced for ten 
 sharp, was still delayed, the cook, in all probability, being hindered, like Vatel, by 
 some small detail in his arrangements. The faces and the teeth of the invited 
 
 POINT OB SPIT OF ILAY, FROM THE SEA, LOOKING E A ST -NO RTH - E AST ; DISTANCE FOUR MILES. 
 
 guests grew longer as time sped, nevertheless each tried to look as if he were 
 delighted with the prospect, and cheat his stomach into believing that all was as 
 it should be. While my companions conversed together, and their spirits rose from 
 grave to gay, or fell again from lively to severe, I leaned against the netting, and 
 gazed on the hills of Hay, thinking how the wintry fogs (known in the country 
 as garuas 1 ) would by-and-by clear away and bring to light, for a month or two, grass 
 and flowers, streams of water, birds, insects, and a thousand natural delights, which 
 are there as unknown during two-thirds or more of the year as the melon in the 
 steppes of Siberia. 
 
 At last our general anxiety was ended. One of those long drawn sighs which 
 relieve collectively the bosom of the public when, at .a theatre, the curtain is lifted 
 after a long entr'acte, was breathed by our little company, when, at the sound of 
 the bell, the steward was seen to leave the galley and traverse the deck, carefully 
 carrying with both hands a dish, softly reclining in which, on a bed of vegetables, 
 
 1 The rjnruas resemble the drizzly vapour commonly called a Scotch mist. They prevail on the coast of Peru from 
 May to November, and are followed by an abundant vegetation in the region of lomas or hillocks — the coast country — 
 during the months of July, August, and September. 
 
6 PERU. 
 
 appeared a boiled leg of mutton of a most respectable size. With hurried steps we 
 followed this welcome apparition towards the cabin. In a few minutes it would 
 have been difficult to distinguish any other sound than the familiar onomatopoeia 
 of the dinner-table broken by the furious click-click of the knives and forks, 
 each hungry guest being resolutely bent on making up for lost time. Apart from 
 the leg of mutton, which belongs to all countries and epochs, the repast was thoroughly 
 English in its character, consisting of beef and smoked fish, followed by various kinds 
 of puddings, rhubarb-tarts, and other strange preparations. For seasoning we had 
 cayenne-pepper, West Indian cacazouezo, Peruvian orocoto, Indian curry, and 
 Harvey's sauce. These fiery dishes were washed down with sherry and port, beer of 
 two kinds, and a very fair or unfair proportion of gin and brandy. Coffee that 
 would have made all the goats of Yemen dance with pleasure was afterwards served 
 to us in little bowls instead of cups. At length, when the sweet fumes of digestion 
 began to mount from the epigastrium to the brain of the revellers, and their richly 
 purpled visages expressed that beatitude peculiar to people when the craving of 
 their stomachs has been satisfied, and cares sit lightly on them, the captain rose 
 to speak: — 
 
 " Senores p amigos," 1 he said, in a rude but intelligible Castilian, "the repast 
 at which you have honoured me with your company is probably the last that wc 
 shall enjoy together. To-morrow, at eleven, I weigh anchor and sail for Santa- 
 Maria de Belem do Para, where my marriage with the daughter of one of my consignees 
 is almost decided upon. Once married, I mean to sell my ship, join my father-in-law, 
 and become a shipowner like him. So much for the future. But these events 
 are yet distant, and in the meantime, as the moment has arrived when Ave must 
 part, you will not wonder if I refer to the Avager Ave have before talked over, in Avhich 
 my conceit alone as a sailor would make me feel interested. Our friend Don Pabloy 
 Marcoy, Avho Avhile I am speaking is amusing himself, and at the same time Avasting 
 a good bit of bread, by modelling a caricature of my ship, has taken it into his head, 
 as you knoAV, to start for the same destination as myself, and has laid a Avager that 
 by crossing the continent from south-Avest to north-east, Avhile I sail round by Cape 
 Horn, he will arrive at the mouth of the Amazon before me. I have accepted the 
 Avager, but its amount is not yet determined. What sum shall Ave say then, 
 senores y amigos?" 
 
 " A hundred ounces of gold," said a citizen of Arequipa Avho had lost his fortune 
 by gambling, and reckoned upon a political revolution to recoup himself 
 
 "Done for a hundred ounces!" said the captain looking at me. 
 
 " One moment," said I ; " when I offered to make the bet, it was with the idea 
 that the sum Avould not be inconsistent with my resources, but now that it is fixed 
 at a hundred ounces of gold, a sum equal to about 8640 francs, I must AvithdraAV 
 my proposal, I can't shovel up gold like our worthy host." 
 
 "What sum then do you propose?" 
 
 " I Avill bet five francs." 
 
 1 Gentlemen and friends. 
 
I LAY TO AREQUIPA. 7 
 
 "Five francs! what a melancholy jest!" exclaimed my companions. 
 
 "Gentlemen," I replied, with grave affectation, "there is nothing either melancholy 
 or pleasant in what I propose; if the sum I offer to bet appears to yon and to our 
 worthy friend somewhat small, I will add to the amount a box of cigars." 
 
 " Do not add anything, my dear friend," said the captain, and thereupon broke 
 down in the endeavour to hide a grimace. " Keep your five francs, smoke your 
 cigars, and let us give up all idea of profiting by the wager, contenting ourselves 
 with the honour. You say then you mean to start immediately?" 
 
 " I say nothing, captain, but I think that in the circumstances a challenge would be 
 better than a wager. In the first place, the arrangement would be more satisfactory 
 to you, sir, whose family has once given a queen to England, and who in re- 
 membrance of that illustrious past can take but little pleasure in vile lucre. In 
 the next place, it would suit me very much better, who am but a poor devil of a 
 naturalist, deeply interested in that same lucre, but in a position which does not allow 
 me to risk a sum every farthing of which will be needed for the expenses of my 
 journey. Well then, let there be no longer any question of money between us, 
 and as you have well said, let us be satisfied with the honour, pure and simple." 
 
 " May lien, very well, very good, Senor French," said the English consul, " let us 
 say no more about it, and as you do not mean to bet, I propose that we drink." 
 
 The captain made a sign, and the steward removed the empty bowls and substituted 
 for them full bottles. The company then sat in for hard drinking; I should not like to 
 say how much they drank, the thing would appear incredible ; but when the sitting came 
 to an end, and the clear light of day had succeeded to the dim illumination of the 
 binnacle lamp, the cabin of the Vicar of Bra// presented the appearance of a field of 
 battle after an action. Not one of my jovial companions remained erect. The captain 
 had slipped under the table; the consul had fallen upon him; the notables of Arequipa 
 lay here and there sleeping in various postures; the glasses and the bottles had 
 been broken in the engagement, and their fragments, like so many mirrors, multiplied 
 the miniature scene of desolation. At my request the steward, aided by the cook, 
 interred each corpse in one of the berths to await the hour of his resurrection. 
 That done, I went ashore, and returned to my lodging in the house of a seal-fisher. 
 There I felt it necessaiy to change my linen, which was as thoroughly soaked as 
 if I had been in a bath with my clothes on. The brandy and gin which my 
 companions had pressed me to drink had been poured down the sleeve of my 
 coat instead of my throat, a trick which I had learned of a Limanian doctor, who 
 not being able to take a drop of liquor without feeling its effects, had invented, 
 he said, this mode of imbibition, which had enabled him to defy, glass in hand, 
 the strongest drinkers of the two Americas. 
 
 On the next day I again went on board the vessel, to ascertain how it had 
 fared with my companions. I found them all afoot, active and merry, and having 
 only a confused remembrance of their lethargy of the previous evening. Tea was 
 served upon the poop, while the sailors prepared to weigh anchor. A last toast 
 was proposed by the captain to the success of our journey, which the company 
 
8 
 
 PERU. 
 
 drank with every demonstration of good fellowship. Then followed the usual exchange 
 of hand-shakings and hearty farewells, and the captain having given me the address 
 at Para of his future father-in-law, the ship's boat conveyed me and my friends to the 
 landing-place, from which we watched the last preparations for departure. A quarter 
 of an hour later the Vicar of Bray, leaning to starboard, and her sails filled with a 
 rattling breeze, once more ploughed the waves of the Pacific. 
 
 Retracing the steep ascent which leads to the village of Hay, we accompanied 
 
 — s. \V 
 
 SEAI FISHERMAN WITH HIS BALSERO: TYPE OF THE PACIFIC COAST. 
 
 the English consul to his house. His wife and daughters, disquieted by his long 
 absence, expressed, in guttural monosyllables, their joy at his return. After this 
 effusion of tenderness, the ladies graciously invited us to pass the day under their 
 roof and partake of their family dinner. Anxious to continue my journey, I declined 
 the kind offer, and my companions, who would doubtless have accepted it, to judge 
 by the looks of disappointment they exchanged, followed my example. Then the 
 ladies, shocked at the idea of seeing us leave without partaking of refreshment, 
 instantly set themselves to prepare a dish of sandwiches, which a servant offered 
 to lis all round. We washed down these edibles with a glass of Devonshire cider, 
 and having thus concluded lunch, the consul's eldest daughter, a charming girl with 
 golden hair, who answered to the sweet name of Stella, seated herself at the piano 
 and gratified the national amour propre of her father's guests by playing the cantata 
 
ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 9 
 
 of Manco-Capac. My friends, the notables of Arequipa, applauded in a transport 
 of delight, One of them, after having the air encored, began to sing the words, 
 and the others were not slow to join the chorus. This patriotic hymn, little known 
 in Europe, but familiar in Pern, is composed of eighteen strophes, of fourteen verses 
 each, and ten syllables in each line, the rhymes being assonant. The words and 
 music are attributed to an ecclesiastic of the Sagrario of Ayacucho. The air in the 
 minor key, essentially plaintive and melancholy, is in harmony Avith the poem, in which 
 the author laments, like another Jeremiah, not over the hardness of heart of Jeru- 
 salem, but over the extinct glories of the Children of the Sun. The execution of this 
 national air lasted an hour and a quarter, yet we did not find it tedious: it must be 
 confessed, however, that after every strophe the singers refreshed themselves by 
 drinking a bumper, under the pretext of doing honour to the memory of him who 
 had redeemed Peru from barbarism. As the wine had excited their enthusiasm, and 
 I feared that these children of nature — avIio never know where to stop when once set 
 going — might take it into their heads to dance a quadrille when the song was finished, 
 I took advantage of the momentary silence which followed the conclusion of the last 
 strophe to rise and bid farewell to the consul and his family. My fellow-travellers 
 had no choice but to yield. Taking up their hats they saluted our host with an 
 awkward air and followed me out, evidently discontented because they could not 
 finish, in their own way, a day which promised to abound in pleasures of every 
 kind. Our mules had been kept ready saddled near at hand. Each selected his 
 own beast and hastened to mount. The muleteers and guides took their places at 
 the head of the party, and we left the consul's hospitable abode, saluted as far as 
 we could be seen by the voices and the waving handkerchiefs of the whole family. 
 It was now about mid-day. A blazing sun inundated the sands with its intense 
 light; every bit of mica, like the mirror of Archimedes, threw a burning ray into 
 our faces. The three rows of Avooden houses, roofed with thatch or reeds, which 
 compose the tAvo parallel streets of Hay, were soon left behind us. Reaching the 
 summit of the height Ave had on our right the village church, a mere shed closed 
 during three-fourths of the year and serving as an asylum for bats. On our left 
 Avere several inclosures formed by rough stones surmounted by crosses of wood, 
 which at a distance suggested the idea of burial places, but which in fact were 
 nothing but mule-pens. Having passed these points we descended the eastern side 
 of the lomas and entered upon a route equally dreaded by men and beasts. This 
 rough track, Avhich may be correctly described as a wheel-rut cut by some gigantic 
 vehicle, Avas covered to the depth of a foot with trachytic ashes swarming with 
 fleas. It is known as the Quebrada of Hay. A quebrada be it! but as the gloomy 
 heights which flank it on either side completely intercept the breeze, the tem- 
 perature is like that of an oven, and it is only the literal truth to say that it was 
 with difficulty Ave could breathe at all. As Ave plodded on our monotonous way 
 we absolutely panted for fresh air. 
 
 For tAvo hours Ave traversed the quebrada, marching in Indian file, and keeping a 
 melancholy silence, in strict harmony with the desolate aspect of the place, and imposed 
 
10 
 
 PERU. 
 
 upon us by the dread we felt of swallowing the dust raised by the beasts Ave were 
 riding. In the midst of the general lethargy the guides alone exhibited an occasional 
 sign of life by abusing the tardy mules. Their cries, mingled with abusive epithets and 
 blows of the stick, played staccato to the bass of the locusts concealed in the brush- 
 wood which occasionally bordered the road. 
 
 Happy were Ave to recognize some signs at last that our troubles approached 
 their end — the hills which bordered the horizon northward and southward began to 
 diminish in height, and open out wider and wider expanses, until in fine they sunk 
 to hillocks. Soon Ave felt the sea breeze on our faces; the rising lands and the 
 road presented a succession of steep ascents, which put us under the necessity almost 
 of climbing. According to the muleteers we were iioav approaching a place called 
 the Olivar, the natural frontier Avhich separates the quebrada from the pampas, the 
 
 valley from the plain, the belt of ashes from the 
 region of sands. The local Flora, represented by 
 the vanilla-scented heliotrope (Heliotropium aphyl- 
 luni), with here and there a stunted and twisted olive 
 and a feAV grasses, looked as if she meant to smile 
 upon us under the mask of dust which hid her vis- 
 age; but the smile had something so mournful in 
 it, "that instead of responding we pretended to look 
 elsewhere as Ave passed along, and the poor goddess 
 of flowers Avas snubbed for her advances. 
 
 The road continued to rise, and after passing 
 some difficult zigzags, it led us to a little plateau 
 of an irregular form which commanded a vieAV of 
 the surrounding country. An ajoupa, formed of a 
 ragged mat supported by stakes, occupied the centre 
 of the space. Under this tent, so to call it, Avere 
 some Avomen in rags, and children in the only 
 clothing furnished them by nature, squatting in the midst of their pots and pans. 
 A Ioav table or stall furnished with broiled fish, ground pimento, and a kind of sca- 
 Aveed called by the Indians cocha-yuyu (sAveetness of the lake), indicated one of 
 those open-air restaurants so common in Peru. These proA'isions, nicely sprinkled 
 with volcanic ashes, looked far from inviting; but muleteers are not, as a rule, dainty 
 folk, and do not trouble themselves about such details. In the roughest manner they 
 demanded of the hostess a double ration of these dusty viands, which they Avashed 
 down Avith a jug of chicha. As customary before commencing the journey across 
 the pampas, Ave stayed a few moments in this place to rest the mules, for which pur- 
 pose Ave dismounted. While our attendants devoted themseh r es to their repast, my 
 companions lighted their cigarettes. Leaving them to haA T e their smoke, I went to 
 the edge of the plateau, which, at an elevation of some 5000 or G000 feet, enabled me 
 to look upon the scenes through which Ave had passed, and Avhich I Avas noAv leaving 
 never more to return. 
 
 Vanilla-scented Heliotrope of the Lomas in the 
 Ashy Regioii of the Quebrada. 
 
1LAY TO AREQUIPA. 
 
 11 
 
 Far as the eye could see, from the foot of the plateau on which we stood to the 
 ocean, was one uniform gray, traversed by irregular veins of a brownish colour ; the 
 numerous hills which embossed its surface, resembling at this height and distance those 
 phlyctcence or blisterings of the soil which so frequently occur in the neighbourhood of 
 volcanoes. From the north to the south extended the line of saline hillocks (lomas) 
 which bound the shore between the tenth and the twenty-third degrees of Latitude. 
 
 RESTAURANT OF THE QUEBRADA OF ILAV. 
 
 Their summits and flanks presented in places a yellowish tint, which would be 
 changed to bright green by the first fogs of winter — those fertilizing vapours which 
 are formed during the night, and vanish again before the next day's noon. The 
 purity of the atmosphere enabled me to distinguish at an immense distance all the 
 features of that vast landscape. In the south I was able to make out, as a black line 
 traced on the horizon between the double azure of sea and sky, the point of Cola 
 and the rocks of the valley of Tambo, whose river, dry during the summer, rolls in its 
 wintry torrent, and under its muddy w T aves, enormous masses of rock detached from the 
 mountains. A little in front appeared the coasts of Mejillones and of Cocotea, with 
 their terrace of shelly banks, their beds of guano, and their hill-sides pierced 
 with sepulchres (huacas), in which, sleeping their last sleep, are thousands of mummies. 
 Every point upon which my eye fell recalled a halt, an episode, a discovery. 
 
12 
 
 PERU. 
 
 Here I head lived for weeks in the company of the Llipis Indians of the great desert 
 of Acatama, upon nothing but sea-weed, water-melons, and shell-fish, the only food to 
 be obtained in these regions; there I had witnessed from the height of the dunes, 
 and without the power of aiding but by useless shouts, the shipwreck of the Amer- 
 ican hermaphrodite-brig Susqiiehannah. Farther off, in midst of the shifting sands, 
 like a conical islet, the hill of Aymaras was discernible, with its ossuary older than 
 the Spanish conquest, where I had collected so many fine phrenological specimens. 
 
 AYJIABA OSSUARY, A FEW MILES SOUTH-SOUTH-EAST OP ILAY. 
 
 Still farther, in the south-east were the desolate lands of the Arenal, with their deposits 
 of guano composed of fish, 1 unknown till then, and to which I had made it my business 
 to call the attention of the learned. Around these spots— landmarks which enabled 
 me to appreciate the duration and the occupations of past years— extended craters 
 strewn with* the cinders, scoriae, and pumice of the ancient volcanoes which dominated 
 this shore at unknown epochs, and near which Captain Frezier in his survey of the 
 coast in 1713, Alexander Humboldt and Bonpland in 1804, and Monsieur A. d'Orbigny 
 in 1836, passed without discovering that they existed. 
 
 Looking towards the east the picture varies a little in its aspect. A region of 
 dreary sands, diversified with cerros or low rounded hills steeply inclined towards 
 the west, succeeds to the volcanic ashes, and closes the horizon like a barrier. 
 
 1 The stranding of fish, observed in the reign of the first Ineas, still occurs every year at fixed periods. The 
 inhabitants of the coasts of Atica, ninety miles north of Hay, and those of Mala and Chilca, under the fourteenth 
 degree of latitude, in former times fertilized their lands with these fish, not possessing, like the people of Hay, a 
 resource in the guano of birds. At present, all make use of the latter compost, even in the Sierra. The thousands of fish 
 stranded on the shores, not being utilized by the inhabitants, infect the air until they are dried by the sun. This 
 ichthyologic detritus has formed deposits a mile and half in extent, and from three to four feet deep. The sand, the 
 shells, the shingle, and the veins of sea-salt with which it is mixed, indicate that the sea must have covered these 
 lands before the formation of the existing shores. 
 
ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 13 
 
 These stony heaps, formed of blocks of a quartzose or silicious grit, and of the 
 debris of volcanic rocks and sediment, rolled, heaped up, and agglomerated by the 
 mighty waters in their retreat from east to west to regain their bed, had often 
 furnished me Avith curious specimens of the metamorphosis of rocks. Each of these 
 detritic masses is distinguished by some fantastic name, as the "razor," the "dove," 
 the "two friends," &c, which I had not yet had time to forget. At their base, on the 
 edge of some trench or furrow, might be seen perhaps a few ricketty cotton-trees, olives, 
 or figs, of a grayish tint rather than green, and scarcely distinguishable from the rocks 
 themselves but for the shadows which they cast. 
 
 An overwhelming sadness possessed me as I gazed on a scene barren even to 
 nakedness, dried up even to calcination, and which recalled, both by the character of 
 its soil and the form of its mountains, the struggle of the two elements which had 
 successively desolated it. The old and eternal conflict between the Dragon and the 
 Hydra, between fire and water, was inscribed in every possible character upon its melan- 
 choly surface, grotesquely striped with brown, gray, or dingy buff, and everywhere of 
 a cold, forbidding dulness in spite of the torrents of light which the sun, now in its 
 meridian, poured down upon it. In contrast with these dull and dusty hues, which no 
 doubt a geologist would have admired, but from which an artist would have turned 
 his eyes in despair, two smiling, luminous colours — the pure blue of the atmosphere and 
 the blue of the sea — could not fail to arrest the eye. At the moment when I turned 
 towards the latter to look a last adieu, two specks might be discerned, though scarcely 
 visible, in its vast extent, The one was a ship running almost due south — it was pro- 
 bably that of our friend the captain — the sails of which at this distance looked like a 
 bit of white down carried away by the wind ; the other was a steam-ship, which, with 
 her prow turned northward, left behind her an almost imperceptible trail of smoke. 
 
 The muleteers having finished their collation, clubbed together to pay the expense, 
 an operation which took up some little time, owing to the slowness with which each 
 reluctantly paid his part. We then remounted our beasts, and turning our backs 
 upon the group of hostesses, directed our steps towards the Pampas of Hay, a sea of 
 sand some 60 miles across and 180 in length, whose waves, so immovable yet so 
 mobile, resembled to the eye those of the ocean which once covered the plain. 
 With the view of crossing the plain in a diagonal direction Ave had set our faces 
 to the north-east, and given the rein to our steeds in order that they might choose 
 their OAvn pace, it being important above all things to economize their strength. 
 The intelligent creatures profited by the circumstance to break their ranks and re-form 
 in column, a strategic disposition which mules prefer, I know not why, to the square 
 of Ecnomus, the pig's head of Alexander, and even the famous Avedge of GustaA'US 
 Adolphus. This movement having been effected with remarkable precision, each 
 animal sniffed the air strongly, bent down his ears, sketched out his neck, and fell into 
 step behind his companion, the muleteers simply muttering their discontent. 
 
 A journey across this desert is not without its dangers. The wind of the ocean 
 ploughs its surface, and continually changes its aspect. From morning to evening, 
 from hour to hour, there is no more rest for these sands than for the Avaves themselves. 
 
U PERU. 
 
 Cavities open, hillocks are heaped up, ridges form, only to close, to fall in again, to be 
 dispersed, and succeeded by others like them. In order to steer their course over this 
 uncertain sea, the pilots of the pampas observe the position of the sun by day, and of 
 the stars by night. These are sure guides which never fail them, but their path is also 
 marked out by the bones of animals that have perished in the endeavour to cross the 
 plain. These sad landmarks indicate by their position to the right or to the left, their 
 proximity or their greater distance, that the traveller is more or less in the right track. 
 For this reason they are always descried with satisfaction, notwithstanding the mingled 
 disgust and pity which the sight of them provokes. I am speaking now of disinterested 
 and intelligent travellers. As for the mercenary and hard-hearted muleteers, these 
 bones, recalling so much lost capital, rather provoke their ill-humour than any show 
 of tenderness. 
 
 We had already continued our march a considerable time, often sounding the 
 depths of the pampas with a searching glance without discovering anything that 
 resembled a carcass, when a cry which parodied that of the antique sybil, "The bones, 
 see the bones!" was uttered by a veteran arrUro at the head of the column. All 
 turned their eyes towards the point indicated, and southward, at the visual extremity of 
 the plain, it was possible to discern a whitish belt which resembled those veins of salt- 
 petre or of sea-salt so frequently to be found in these latitudes. Acting upon the advice 
 of our leader, who asserted that we ought to pass to windward of these forsaken car- 
 casses, we bent our course to the right, and went to reconnoitre them. 
 
 Grouped in little heaps, and disposed in a single line which lost itself in the 
 horizon, these bones were more or less blanched, more or less polished, according to 
 the lapse of time since the death of the poor animal who had owned them. In a 
 certain symmetry which marked their arrangement I could not fail to recognize the 
 hand of man, although our attendants, when I made the observation, seriously assured 
 me that it was all the work of the wind. When, however, I showed them that some of 
 the heads of the horses and mules were adorned with thigh-bones stuck in the cavities 
 of the eyes or ears, and that there were other grotesque arrangements of the same 
 character, our facetious friends burst into a laugh, from which I concluded that these 
 mournful attentions which they had set down to the account of the wind, were really 
 the work of their own hands, or of comrades like them. 
 
 The further we advanced the more evidence we saw of recent debris added to 
 the old, which at length they entirely covered like an alluvial bed. Some of the 
 bones were still clothed with blackened flesh and dried integuments; some entire 
 skeletons, perfect models of the living form, recalled to my memory the horse ridden 
 by Death in the Apocalypse. Other carcasses still retained their skin, and under the 
 skin, which sounded like a drum, and was as tight as an umbrella, troops of vultures 
 {Percnopterus urubit), the accustomed guardians of these solitudes, had taken up their 
 abode. Following the example of the rat of La Fontaine, who made his nest in a 
 Dutch cheese, these rapacious birds, having first eaten the flesh of the beast, make a 
 house of his inside. At the noise caused by our approach they came out from their 
 dens one by one, fixed upon us their cruel, withered eyes, and returned into their holes 
 
 
ILAY TO AREQUITA. 
 
 1. 
 
 when we hail passed. The more curious or the more starved among them would perch 
 himself upon a rib or thigh-bone, as upon a branch, and with oblique looks seem to 
 watch the pace of our mules, as if speculating on the chance of one being left on the 
 road. If so, their expectations were disappointed; our poor beasts, although they 
 carried their tails between their legs and their ears bent, were able to continue their 
 journey without accident, to the no small satisfaction of their owners. 
 
 LANDMARKS OF THE ROUTE ACROSS THE PAMPAS TO AREyUIPA. 
 
 No incident occurred during our further progress. The sun, after it had almost 
 grilled our heads and necks, at last went down behind us, and had almost disappeared 
 when a gentle breeze from the Cordilleras began to blow across the plain. At 
 first our lungs inspired it with delight, but at the end of an hour the light wind 
 became a sharp cutting blast, and we were glad to wrap ourselves in a woollen cloak 
 in addition to the poncho of white cotton which we had worn during the day. 
 We marched thus till ten o'clock, through a deepening obscurity which the " clearness 
 that falls from the stars" changed into twilight. Just then a black mass loomed 
 before us a little in advance, and we recognized the tampu or caravansary of the 
 pampas. Our mules recognized it also, and lengthening their steps soon pulled 
 up at the threshold of that desert hostelry, where it was customary for travellers 
 to halt for the sake of restiiiG; their beasts rather than themselves. 
 
16 PERU. 
 
 The tampu, which the Quichua Indians now improperly call a tambo, 1 is a long 
 low wooden house, divided into several compartments and covered with a roof of 
 boards. The micaceous sand of the plain serves for a flooring, and as that sand 
 is the residence of myriads of microscopic but voracious fleas, the traveller, instead 
 of repose, should he attempt to rest, finds himself on a bed of torture, if we may 
 judge from his cries of rage and his angry movements. Setting this inconvenience 
 aside, the tampu has the merit of forming a central station in the desert which 
 separates the village of Hay from the city of Arequipa, and of standing 3917 feet 
 above the level of the Pacific Ocean. 
 
 The point we had reached gave us the exact measure of the distance we had 
 travelled. From noon till ten o'clock we had got over about thirty-three miles, or half 
 the length of the entire distance. This journey, short as it may seem, had nevertheless 
 pretty well used us up. The heat, the saltness of the atmosphere, the intense 
 reflection of the sands had produced on our persons the most deplorable effects. 
 We had red noses, cracked lips, and a pulse as furious as if we were suffering from 
 an attack of fever. An hour longer in that burning sun and we must have been 
 roasted to a nicety. The idea of a halt for only a few minutes gave us an infinite 
 sense of relief. Leaving to the guides the care of unsaddling our mules we entered 
 the inn, and found a profound silence reigning there. An opening in the wall of 
 the building, without a door, led into an apartment in which it was impossible to see 
 anything for the darkness. By beating a tatoo upon the Avails we endeavoured to arouse 
 any one who might be sleeping in the place ; and in fact, awakened by the noise, the 
 master of the hostelry was not slow to call out. To his questions we replied in 
 two words, "Fire! water!" A moment afterwards the man appeared carrying in 
 one hand a bottle with a lighted candle stuck in it, and in the other a pail of water 
 and a goblet, for the possession of which we almost struggled with one another. 
 Having quenched our thirst, we inquired if the place contained any victuals which 
 would prevent us from dying of starvation. It seemed long now since we had tasted 
 of the consul's sandwiches. Our host replied that his available provisions consisted 
 simply of six chickens, alive indeed, but ready to be sacrificed at a sign from us. 
 We, however, not trusting to his interpretation of any sign we could make, roared 
 our acquiescence in an unmistakable manner. Our host bowed, demanded an hour's 
 respite to awake his wife, light the fire, and kill, pluck, prepare, and serve the 
 chickens with an accompaniment of rice and pimento. We granted his request; and 
 by way of passing the time some of our company thought they could not do better 
 than cut with a knife upon the wooden Avails of the tampu, their names, and the 
 date of their visit; A\ T hile others cooled their faces with fresh water, and, in the 
 absence of cold-cream, anointed them with talloAv. 
 
 At the expiration of the appointed time our host reappeared, bearing an earthen 
 dish in which, in the midst of a plentiful supply of clear liquid, floated small morsels 
 of the devoted poultry. A Avooden spoon was then given to each of us, and seated 
 
 1 The Quichua idiom, altering by degrees through its contact with the Spanish language, has changed its terminations 
 cu, hua, pa, pi, pu, &c, into go, gua, ba, bi, bo, &c. &c. 
 
I LAY TO AREQUIPA. 17 
 
 in a circle round the smoking viands, we scrimmaged our best. Our host, discreetly 
 withdrawing into a shady corner, watched the repast, and no doubt felt his self-love 
 as a culinary artist immensely nattered by the ardour with which we wielded our 
 spoons. When the dish was thoroughly cleaned out we threw down our spoons 
 and asked for the bill. Our host had written it out in chalk upon a piece of wood 
 
 TAMPU, OR HOSTELRY OF THE PAMPAS. 
 
 while we were eating, and he now presented it with an obsequious air. It ran as 
 follows: — Vel-agu, 416 — Chup-suma, 60 - 80. Interpreted thus: — 
 
 Vela (candle), 4 reals. 
 Agua (water), 16 reals. 
 ( 'h a pe (soup), 60 reals. 
 
 iStima (total), 80 reals. 
 
 As we had not comprehended this little bill in its abbreviated form, we began 
 laughing, but when our host proceeded to explain the thing we laughed no longer. 
 The tallow^ candle in the bottle was charged four reals, 1 the pail of water two piastres, 2 
 the chicken-broth represented seven piastres and a half; in a word, the cost of this 
 sumptuous repast amounted to some two pounds sterling. A Euroj)ean unaccustomed 
 to the country would certainly have abused the landlord and made a great noise about 
 the matter; but my companions, born in the country, and myself, resident there for 
 many years, judged the matter differently, and paid without a word, but also without 
 giving the least pourboire. Our host appeared by no means hurt by the voluntary 
 omission, but pocketed the sum and went out,' im providently leaving his dish behind 
 him, which we carefully buried in the sand. 
 
 While this was passing in the interior of the tampu, our attendants, remaining 
 
 1 The value of a real is about 6}d. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 The value of a piastre is about 4s. 2d. or 4s. 3d. 
 
18 PERU. 
 
 outside, had managed to take a comfortable nap winked at by the stars, leaving the 
 mules which they had unsaddled to roll on the ground with their feet in the air, 
 and make up by such gambols for the fodder and water they wanted. We woke 
 the fellows up and made them saddle the beasts, a march through the pampas by 
 night being preferable to one by clay, as it enabled them to bear an amount of 
 hunger, thirst, and fatigue which would have been insufferable in the heat of the 
 sun. Our Palforio, who had not yet discovered the loss of his dish, assisted the 
 muleteers in their preparation for departure, and did not return into the house until 
 he had seen us in the saddle. 
 
 On leaving the tampu we headed for the east. The wind no longer blew from 
 the Cordilleras, but the air was fresh and bracing. Our mules, cpiite restored by 
 their short repose, were in capital spirits, taking advantage of which we made them 
 go at a fair pace. About five o'clock a clear whiteness appeared in the sky, the 
 stars paled their lustre, the day began to break. Soon a ruddy orange tint spread 
 over the soil of the pampas, now become firm and compact. In a few minutes 
 the disc of the sun appeared above the horizon, and as we marched full in the front 
 of the god of day, we found ourselves in the midst of a luminous torrent, which 
 so dazzled and incommoded us that to escape from this new torture we doubled 
 ourselves up like hedgehogs. This anomalous and inconvenient posture rendered 
 us unjust to the claims of the rising sun. Instead of welcoming his appearance with 
 transport, we were inclined to curse him; and in the meantime, notwithstanding 
 my own feeling about the matter, I could not help laughing at my Peruvian attendants, 
 who in so many words sent to the devil the god they worshipped. It was not till 
 eight o'clock that the star of day, now high above the horizon, permitted us to raise 
 our heads. The chain of the snowy Andes rose grandly before us, cut by a zone 
 of cerros, which bounded the pampas eastward. We now pursued, in Indian file, 
 the naiTOw, sinuous, and difficult path which wound at the base of these singular 
 formations. This barren region presented nothing living to view but tufts of cactus 
 [Cereus and Opuntia) shrivelled and cracked by the drought, with a few gray lizards 
 and a great number of turtle-doves. Of the latter we counted three or four varieties. 
 The turtle, like rats, lice, and fleas, must be reckoned among the plagues of the 
 country. It not only devastates the fields of maize and wheat, but fills the air with 
 its continual lamentations. This melancholy bird lodges and bewails itself indifferently 
 in any corner. One finds it in the midst of the volcanic cinders of the sea-coast, 
 in the quartzose sands inland, among the rocks of the Sierra, beneath the trees of 
 the sultry valleys, and even in the poetry of the Quichua rhapsodists, who, not contented 
 with calling the silly bird uirpilla-ehay (darling turtle), compare it to the women 
 of their nation, a figure of speech, by the way, of which I do not recognize the 
 propriety. 
 
 The singular region which we were now traversing, and which stretches from seven 
 to eight degrees in length by three miles in breadth at most (if one could fly across 
 it as the turtles do!), cost us the loss of two weary hours, to say nothing of the 
 heat and dust which we had to endure. But we were well repaid for these troubles 
 
1LAY TO AREQU1PA. 
 
 10 
 
 by the scene which lay before us when, having rounded the last cevro, we found our- 
 selves upon the esplanade which serves as the floor, if I may so speak, of these 
 mineral formations. At our feet lay the valley of Arequipa, a profound ravine, some 
 500 feet deep, about six miles in breadth, and forty-five miles long in the direction seen 
 from this point. Carpeted with green of various shades, it was dotted at every vantage- 
 point with villages, farms, and country-houses, while through its commingled light and 
 shade meandered two rivers which en- 
 tered the plain from opposite points, ap- 
 proached each other, lovingly wound their 
 way side by side for a certain distance, 
 and at length merged their waters in one 
 full stream. The whole eastern side of 
 the valley was bounded by the first pla- 
 teau of the Western Andes, that vast pile 
 of snowy heights whose higher pathways 
 seemed to scale the heavens. Two sierras, 
 connected with the principal chain of 
 mountains, to which they served as but- 
 tresses, loomed up in front. That on the 
 right named Pkhu-pichii, was serrated 
 like a saw, the other on the left, called 
 Ckachani, rose perpendicular as a wall. 
 A space of about sixty miles in circuit 
 separated the two masses, and from the 
 centre of that area, sloping from east to 
 west, sprang in all its native majesty and 
 its unrivalled configuration the cone of 
 Misti, 1 one of the finest volcanoes which 
 crown the Andes at various points from 
 Tierra del Fuego to the equator. 
 
 The valley of Arequipa was discov- 
 ered in the commencement of the thir- 
 teenth century by the fourth Inca, Mayta- 
 
 Capac, who, following the example of his predecessors, left his capital Cuzco with a 
 view of extending the bounds of the empire, and of rallying to the worship of the sun 
 the unsubdued tribes who peopled the littoral, and the snowy sierra. After subju- 
 gating the Aymaras of the plateau of Tiahuanacu in higher Peru, he had traversed 
 
 CEREUS CANDELARIS AND OPUNTIA. 
 
 1 Modern geographers have mistakenly substituted for the Misti, which rises above the valley and city of Arequipa, 
 the Huayna-Putina, which they call Guaga-Putina, and place on a branch of the Western Andes ; while, in fact, this 
 volcano is situated on the main chain, in the valley of Moquehua, above the village of Ornate — that is to say, about 
 uiuety miles south-east of Arequipa. Having pointed out this threefold error, I will only add that the Misti, which some 
 travellers have tried to ascend, is forty miles in circumference at its base. Its height above the sea is 15,223 feet; above 
 the Tampu and Pam pa of Hay it measures 11,306 feet; and above the central Place of Arequipa, S545 feet. 
 
20 
 
 PERU. 
 
 the double chain of the Andes above the sources of the Apurimac to reduce to servi- 
 tude those of the Aymara nation who lived in the environs of Pari Huanacocha 
 (Flamingo Lake), under the fifteenth degree. These two expeditions having been 
 completed, the Inca was traversing the foot of the Western Cordilleras when he came 
 by chance where the Sierra of Velilla opened to this valley of Arequipa, then unin- 
 habited and called Coripuna (the plain of gold), from the name of a volcano, now 
 
 REGION OF CEKKOS OR RUGGED HILLS NEAR AREQUIPA. 
 
 extinct and covered with snow, which rises on the borders of the provinces of 
 Cailloma and Arequipa, 1 
 
 We are ignorant, and the Spanish chroniclers were as ignorant as ourselves — for 
 they say nothing about it, and are not the people to keep a secret — what aspect that 
 valley presented, deprived of inhabitants and denuded of culture, at the epoch when 
 Mayta-Capac took possession of it in the name of the Sun, his divine ancestor. But 
 the continual rising of its level during the period of volcanic activity of the Huayna- 
 Putina — which, as explained on a previous page, must not be confounded with the Misti 
 
 1 By the side of this volcano, the cone of -which is perfectly regular, rises another named the Padre Etcrno, now 
 extinct like the Coripuna, and like it covered with snow from the summit to the base during the whole }'ear. They are 
 both situated in the same parallel as the volcano (Misti) of Arequipa at the foot of the chain of the Western Andes. They 
 are distinctly visible from the descent of the Recoleta, near the bridge of Arequipa. 
 
I LAY TO AREQUIPA. 
 
 21 
 
 — a period which comprises the eruptions of 1582, 1G00, 1G04, 1009, 1G87, 1725, 1732, 
 and 1738, allows us to suppose that in the thirteenth century the depth of its bed must 
 have been double what it now is, its slope from south to north very slight, its 
 temperature more elevated and more equal ; while as to its flora and fauna, they were 
 the same, with the exception of a few species, as they are at the present day. 1 
 
 The actual physiognomy of the valley is characterized by an inclination of 7113 feet, 
 reckoning from the Sierra de Characato, where it begins, to the vale of Quellca fronting 
 the ocean, where it terminates after a course of ninety-six miles. Its vegetation in 
 a temperature which varies from 39° to 90° Fahrenheit, presents successively barley, rye, 
 and the quinoa (Chenopodium Quinoa) of cold countries, wheat and maize, the fig and 
 
 PEONS OF THE VALLEY OP AREQUIPA. 
 
 the raisin, the olive and the pomegranate of southern Europe, and the sugar-cane and 
 banana of the tropics. To the traveller who arrives panting and covered with dust on 
 the threshold of that region of cerros, this long strip of verdure, sweetly softened by 
 the distance and varying its aspect each league, is like a land of promise, a peep of that 
 fertile Canaan which at length terminates the desert. It rejoices his soul, renews his 
 strength, and has the effect on his sight, scorched by the hot reflection of the sands, of 
 an extended shade of green taffeta. 
 
 This fertile valley, so remarkable on many grounds, so picturesque in its entire 
 aspect and details, has nothing, or next to nothing, to offer to the naturalist. Its 
 flora and its fauna, together Avith those of the environs of Arequipa, are meagre in 
 the extreme, and the catalogue of plants and animals which they comprise would not 
 take long to draw up. Let us take, hap hazard, and without troubling ourselves with 
 the methodic order established by science for the classification of families, the speci- 
 mens which present themselves to us in descending from the hills into the plain. 
 
 In the region of cerros, which bounds the valley on its western side, there grow 
 
 1 The Ardca alba, or white heron, and the Phcenicopterus, or flamingo, observed in the time of the first Incas, have 
 long since disappeared from these counti ■'.• 
 
22 
 
 PERU. 
 
 two varieties of cactus — the Cereus peruvianas and the candelaris. Every crevice in 
 the rock, every joint between two stones, gives foothold to a bundle of these cacti, 
 powdered with dust or ashes, and the gray rather than green tint of which adds to 
 the sadness with which the aspect of these places impresses us. Here and there 
 clamped at the base of the cerros in the sands a prickly pea? (Cactus dpuntia), rough 
 and deformed, vegetates in company with a few grasses and a dwarf caryophyllaceous 
 plant of the genus Silene. 
 
 Lower down, the order of the Malracece is represented by a single Hibiscus, with 
 a pale lilac flower, and three varieties of the genus Malm, having properties more or less 
 
 medicinal. The large Indian cress (Tropwolum majus) tap- 
 estries the moist rocks and the crumbling remains of old 
 walls. This is the ivy of the valley; its leaves, beautifully 
 green, are almost as large as those of the water-lily (Nymphcea) 
 of Europe. Nothing can be more charming than their foliage 
 when the rain of the night or the clew of the morning has 
 transformed every leaf into a casket of green velvet filled 
 with liquid diamonds. 
 
 The order of the Compositce counts in the valley seven or 
 eight very distinct kinds. At their head figure the chilcas 
 (Vernonia) and the callajas (Baccharis), the thickets of which 
 cover great spaces, and supply the inhabitants with wood for 
 fuel. After these come the genera Onoceris, Act i /tea, Aster, 
 Helianthus, and Chrysanthemum, represented by poor-looking 
 plants with sea-green almost rigid leaves, and flowers of a 
 more or less lively yellow, growing on the side of the roads. 
 An Onagraria, which the inhabitants call tumbo (Fuchsia gigantea), has a flower eight 
 inches long, of a delicate pink colour, and forms in some places masses of surpassing 
 elegance. In the neighbourhood of this plant, with its pendulous stalks, grows a 
 shrub, of from five to six feet in height, of the family of Papilionacece and the genus - 
 Amorpha. Its flowers, growing in loose spikes, are of a bluish lilac, and have only 
 one petal, the standard or vexillum. 
 
 The MirabiUs jalapa (rubra), or belle -of- the -night, is the only individual of the 
 family of Nyctaginacece. In the shallow water on the margins of running streams, and 
 mingled with Alismacea? and some Hydrocharacew, grow three varieties of Hydrocotyles 
 —the quinqueloba, the multiflora, and the gracilis— a celery and a cress, both eatable, 
 and some Juncece or reeds. Some additional specimens increase the catalogue as we 
 descend towards the valleys of Utchumayo and Victor, which continue under other 
 names that of Arequipa as we approach the Pacific. 
 
 The fauna of the valley is scarcely richer than its flora. In the order of Carnivora, 
 family of the Cheiroptera, we only know of an insectivorous bat, very similar to the 
 species in Europe known as the long-eared. It lurks during the day in holes of the 
 walls or under the thatch of roofs, and leaves its den at twilight to commence the 
 chase of its prey. 
 
 Farmer (Chacarero) of the Valley 
 of Arequipa. 
 
ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 23 
 
 The first group of the digitigrade Carnivora numbers only one individual of the 
 weasel species, which dwells in the crevices of the cerros, from whence in the night 
 its odour spreads far and wide. The country people call it the zorrino, or little 
 fox. I have nothing further to say of this animal, as I have not seen it; but I 
 have smelled it more than once, and feel justified in promptly dismissing it. 
 
 In the order of Rodentiu or gnawers, genus Cavea, the guinea-pig figures under 
 the name of coy, and has been famous since the time of the Incas. The natives 
 keep it in their dwellings, as did their ancestors, and eat it with all kinds of sauces. 
 Its flesh is most delicate; its fur, in the wild state, is of a bluish gray, with a 
 touch of white, something like the chinchilla. Other individuals of the order, less 
 appreciated than these by the natives, are the surmulots, or rats of the country. 
 These animals go in bands of ten or a dozen; their colour is a reddish broAvn; their 
 length about ten inches, without reckoning the tail. In a single night they have 
 been known to destroy a whole field of maize, by gnawing through the stalks and 
 wasting the gi-ain. Besides these surmulots we find the true rat, a little larger 
 than our domestic kind, and remarkable for its singular voracity, if I may judge by 
 the fact that one of them began gnawing my thumb when I was asleep, making a 
 wound the scar of which is still visible. 
 
 Passing from quadrupeds to birds, the order of Diurnal Raptures is represented 
 by a vulture, the Percnopterus urubu, which clears the country of carrion and every 
 kind of uncleanness. Next below him is an individual of the falcon tribe, of the 
 sparrow-hawk kind, who wages a war of extermination against young chickens. In 
 the order of Passe rinee Conirostres two individuals may be mentioned, a crested sparrow 
 of a dull colour like that of our common sparrow, and not less impudent in its 
 manners, and a warbler with ashen gray plumage, white eyelids, and a black patch 
 on its forehead. The tribe of Dentirostres comprises a blackbird with yellow beak 
 and claws, called by the natives chihuanco, and the chirote, with a breastplate of fire 
 (Tardus militaris). Of the wren family I have seen but one individual, whose plumage 
 is of a dull olive tint, varied with white and brown spots. 
 
 Two varieties of doves frequent the valley commanded by Arequipa: one the size 
 of a thrush, the other not bigger than a skylark. The plumage of both is very nearly 
 the same. It is of a bluish ashen colour, with some warmer tones of yellow and a 
 ring of rainbow hues around the neck. The eyelids are azure, the beak and feet 
 of a pinky orange. These birds commit great ravages in the barley-fields; as do 
 the troops of dwarf parrots, whose plumage is of a uniform green. 
 
 From October to February, the beautiful spring days and the heats of summer 
 attract into the valley two varieties of humming-bird (Trochilus) of a greenish-brown 
 colour, and a swallow with a white rump. These birds return to their homes 
 in the Victor, Majes, and Camana valleys, when the first autumn rains and the snows 
 which fall upon the Sierra have cooled the atmosphere. 
 
 In the frozen waters of the rivers and brooks, along the margins of which hops a 
 species of rail (Macrodactyle), is to be found a gray frog called by the inhabitants sapo- 
 de-agua (water-toad), no doubt to distinguish it from an enormous batrachian found 
 
24 
 
 PERU. 
 
 in the fields, and which they call the land-toad. These waters support, besides, 
 some very fine crayfish, and a single fish of the carp family (fiyprinus), called by the 
 natives peje-rey, the fish-king. 
 
 On coming to the end of this nomenclature, at which perhaps the reader has 
 scarcely deigned to glance, I find that I had almost forgotten the reptiles of the 
 country, and more especially the saurians. Yet the valley of Arecpiipa possesses 
 two little gray lizards of very lively habits. Their omission, indeed, would not have 
 been a very serious matter, as we do not usually keep a strict reckoning of our 
 friends, and for a long time the lizard has been recognized as the friend of man. 
 
 A narrow path, forming a steep descent, led down into 
 the valley on the left bank of the Tampu, one of the two 
 streams by which it is watered. We crossed by a ford opposite 
 Ocongate, a group of cottages shaded by a species of sallow, 
 pointed in form, and so closely set as to hide with a verdant 
 curtain the base of the hill on the summit of which stand the 
 church and houses of Tiabaya, a small town once renowned 
 for its drinking and dancing festivities. Till now the difficul- 
 ties of the ground had compelled us to march in column; but 
 on turning a hill we found it possible to deploy into line upon 
 a fine and perfectly level road, bordered by cultivated fields, 
 and the rauchos of the Indians. Henceforth we had to fear 
 neither hunger nor thirst, neither sunstrokes nor shifting sands, 
 and the sense of this relief gave to the conversation of our 
 friends a turn which became more and more sportive. The 
 muleteers, gratified at having brought their cattle in safety 
 through the difficulties of the way, bawled their delight in ear-splitting shouts and 
 melodies. One sang a ballad the subject of which was the delight of revisiting one's 
 family and friends after a long absence, and at each return of the refrain — for this ode 
 to native land had a refrain — the very mules neighed and threw up their heels, as if 
 they too had a domestic hearth and a family circle awaiting them. In this joyous 
 mood we arrived at the hamlet of Sachaca, composed of less than a score of poor 
 huts built in the sheltered crannies of a traehytie rock which bars the road. It is at 
 Sachaca, so say the legends, that the sorcerers, the goblins, and elves of the environs 
 are wont to assemble on moonlight nights. Unfortunates wearing cravat-wise the 
 rope with which they had been hanged; others who had been flayed alive, dragging 
 their bloody skins after them; and the decapitated carrying their heads under their 
 arms, figure in these reunions. All that is grotesque and revolting in the world of 
 imagination throng the paths, eat, drink, and dance, play with the bones of the dead 
 upon the gaping coffins, and vanish into thin air at cock-crow. In vain the inhabitants 
 of Sachaca have had recourse to the exorcists of the country to disperse these nocturnal 
 phantoms; in vain they have placed crosses and sacred bushes over their doors. The 
 sorcerers have burned the crosses to cook their broth, transformed the bushes into 
 brooms, and notwithstanding all the enchantments of their rivals in art, have remained 
 
 A Farmer's Wife (Chacakeba) of the 
 
 Valley of Arequiiia. 
 
1LAY TO 
 
 AREQUIPA. 
 
 So 
 
 masters of the place. To this day Sachaca is an accursed spot, at the sight of which 
 the good women sign themselves with the cross under pretence of kissing their thumb, 
 and which no man would dare to pass at midnight unless he had drank enough to 
 forget his usual prudence. 
 
 As it was now eleven o'clock in the morning, and sorcerers and owls do not 
 show themselves by daylight, our muleteers halted at Sachaca to drink a jug of the 
 native beer (chicha), which they say is excellent. Our friends, curious to verify the fact, 
 caused some glasses to be served; but notwithstanding their pressing entreaties, I 
 refused to drink, not from any repugnance to that particular beverage, which I prefer 
 to stagnant water, but because I feared — and the reputation of Sachaca sufficiently 
 
 VILLAGES OF o C O N G A T E, T I A B A T A, AND U M A K O. 
 
 justifies the fear — that its beer, brewed under a malign influence, might act upon my 
 reason like the juice of the lotus, or the moly of Homer, and detain me for ever in a 
 country which I had arranged to quit on the morrow about this very hour. 
 
 From Sachaca to Yanahuara, three miles distant, the road is admirable, and the 
 country cultivated with great care. Fields of maize, clover, and potatoes, squares of 
 golden grain, streams bordered with well-grown willows, mud-built houses coloured white, 
 blue, or pink, combined to form a landscape upon which the eye rested with pleasure. 
 Here and there, in arbours formed of trailing gourds loaded with their pale yellow 
 fruit, and surmounted with a pennon of the Peruvian colours, the sign of a rural 
 cabaret — town cabarets have only a Avisp of straw for their emblem — men and women 
 in many-coloured garments, with complexions like sepia, and hair flowing clown 
 upon their shoulders, swallowed their favourite drink, strummed their three-stringed 
 guitar, tootled a cracked pipe, and frisked merrily about, now embracing, now gourman- 
 dizing, now dancing again to the accompaniment of shouts and bursts of laughter, 
 mingled with oaths, and ending in their dropping off to sleep with their heads under the 
 shade of the arbour, and their feet in the sun, in such attitudes as would have sent a 
 painter of genre into ecstasies. These exhibitions of local manners, to which my com- 
 panions paid scarcely the least attention, familiar as they were with them from child- 
 
 VOL. I. 4 
 
26 
 
 PERU. 
 
 hood, gave me, I must confess, the greatest pleasure. My curiosity and my philosophy 
 were alike gratified. Pictures so artistically composed, so rich in colour, so alive with 
 movement, charmed my eyes at the same time that they supplied me with serious 
 subjects for reflection. I found myself surprised into silent disquisitions upon the 
 nature of man in general, and in particular upon that of these indigenes, happy under 
 the shadow of a gourd which served them at once for house, tent, and sunshade. 
 "Happy people!" I said to myself, as I jerked the bridle of my mule, "whose appetite 
 
 A 31 L E T OF B AC H AC A. 
 
 of hunger is satisfied with a pumpkin ; a people worthy of the age of gold, content 
 to dine on a potato roasted in the ashes, to sup on a raw onion, to forget the very 
 necessity of eating, provided they get something to drink, and pass through life to the 
 sweet sounds of the flute and guitar, without disquieting themselves about a battered 
 hat, or a ragged pair of breeches; who regret nothing, and are ambitious of nothing, 
 not even of a new shirt, though it may be the first of January, and the one that has 
 been worn for a year may be dropping off their backs; whose only fault — a very 
 innocent one — is to organize an Cmeute once a month, and set up a new president of the 
 republic. Alas!" I concluded with a sigh, "to what Nova Zeinbla, or what Papua, 
 innocent of civilization, would it lie necessary to direct one's steps to find a worthy 
 parallel to such a people!" 
 
 Beyond Yanahuara, a little village remarkable for nothing lint its name (black 
 breeches) and its springs of sparkling water running in granite channels, the houses are 
 closer together, and border both sides of the road. Drinking places now become 
 

ILA.Y TO AREQUIPA. 
 
 •29 
 
 more frequent, their white and red streamers waving in the air like the wings of 
 flamingoes. Troops of llamas laden with dried figs, pimento, charcoal, or rock-salt, 
 mingle in busy contact with convoys of asses and mules. Indians of both sexes pass to 
 and fro chattering with emulous loquacity. As we advance, the crowd and the noise 
 augment; songs, too, are heard in the distance, which, mingling with this tumult, 
 impart to it a joyous and holiday-making aspect. These people throng the approaches 
 of a great city. Suddenly, on turning from the Recoleta — an advanced post of squalid 
 and blackened houses, where the chicha brewers smoke night and day like chimneys — 
 a rapid fall of the ground brings to view, in a perspective of dazzling light and 
 pure azure, the city of Arequipa, lying at the foot of the great volcano Misti, and 
 crowned as with a diadem by the snows of the Sierra. 
 The coup d'ceil is magical. Nothing more beautiful was ever 
 seen at an opera. Mexico in its plain, Santiago du Chili, 
 backed by the Cordillera de Mendoza, could alone for splen- 
 dour of prospect furnish a parallel to it. 
 
 From the Recoleta we descended towards a bridge of 
 six arches by which it communicates with the city. This 
 bridge, which has somewhat the look of a Roman aqueduct, 
 crosses at the height of more than a hundred feet the bed of 
 the river Chile, the sister stream of the Tampu, which flows 
 by Ocongate. A furious torrent when swelled by the melting 
 of the snows, the Chile during the rest of the year is nothing 
 but a common brook haunted by carp and crayfish, where the 
 washerwomen of the city come to beat their linen, to a noisy 
 
 accompaniment of shouting and singing. As these admired "cholas" wear short 
 petticoats and chemises very loose about their necks, numbers of loungers {aficionados) 
 come every day between the hours of three and six, under pretext of a promenade, 
 to loll upon the parapet of the bridge and watch the women in the river. For three 
 mortal hours these genteel loiterers lean on the parapet ogling the women, and deliver- 
 ing themselves of observations more or less piquant, all the time spitting in the water 
 to make rings. There were none of these gentlemen on the bridge, however, when 
 we passed, nor did a single short-petticoated chola exhibit hei'self on the banks of the 
 river. This, however, surprised us little: just then all the clocks of the city were 
 sounding the mid -day hour, at which time, when the sun is beginning to glare too 
 fiercely, the citizens take a siesta in their houses, and the washerwomen, leaving their 
 linen and their soap to the care of Providence, go to enjoy a jug of beer under the 
 shade of the cabaret. 
 
 The first street into which we enter after leaving the bridge is the Calle del Puente, 
 a long narrow avenue of stone buildings, the trade of which chiefly consists in 
 provisions and drink. Every house in the street is a shop where black olives, unctuous 
 cheese, butter put up in bladders,, dried fish, fag-ends of salt pork prepared in fat, 
 salads chopped small like minced meat, and fritters soaked in treacle, are exposed 
 to the admiring gaze of the passengers in a state of mingled disorder, which is nothing 
 
 Chola "Washerwoman. 
 
30 PERU. 
 
 less than the effect of art. Leathern bottles of wine and tafia (a kind of rum) here and 
 there showed their rounded forms. The odour which exhales from these dens of 
 indigestion would make a European sick ; but the native sniffs it with delight, gifted 
 as he is by nature with a voracious appetite, and a stomach strong enough to digest 
 glass-bottles. 
 
 From the Calle del Puente we hastened with our mules at full gallop to the great 
 square (Plaza Mayor) of Arequipa. Several streets radiate like the spokes of a wheel 
 from this place as a centre. Having to proceed in opposite directions to regain our 
 respective dwellings, we halted at this spot as with common consent, conscious 
 that the hour of separation had at last arrived. The dinner on board the Vicar 
 of Bray rendered quite superfluous a farewell festivity, which, according to the custom 
 of the country, my friends had not been slow to offer me. Under the circumstances 
 they contented themselves with clasping me in their arms, while their eyes were more 
 or less filled with tears according to the degree of affection which existed between 
 us. "Write to us" — "Write to me"— "Yes, I will write" — were the last words which 
 we exchanged. A quarter of an hour after this affecting scene the door of my house, 
 situated in the Rue de Huanamara, closed upon me. 
 
 Here I find myself obliged to open a parenthesis to beg the reader's pardon if I do 
 not invite him into my parlour, for I wish it to be understood that I really enjoyed 
 that luxury. It was a vaulted apartment with two holes in the roof for the admission 
 of air and light; the walls, of granite, were three feet thick and Avere painted yellow. 
 The floor was paved in a geometrical pattern with black and blue and white stones. But 
 my parlour, otherwise not unworthy of notice, is at the moment of which I write turned 
 inside out, as the saying is. The furniture is concealed under packages; the floor is 
 encumbered with baskets and boxes, a fine layer of dust covers everything, and the 
 spider, taking advantage of my long absence, has stretched his web from angle to 
 angle of the walls. It being impossible, under these circumstances, to find so much 
 as a chair to offer my reader; and being unwilling to leave him standing in the street 
 till the hour of my departure, I beg permission to escort him through the city, and 
 substituting action for description, give him certain details about Arequipa which he 
 would seek in vain in geographies, itineraries, and guide-books. 
 
 Two Spanish chroniclers of the seventeenth century, Garcilaso de la Vega, and the 
 reverend father Bias Valera, explain the etymology of Arequipa in the following 
 fashion. When the Inca Mayta Capac, says Garcilaso, had discovered the valley of 
 Coripuna, some of the Indians who accompanied him, charmed by the beauty of the 
 sight and the agreeable temperature, expressed their desire to establish themselves here. 
 "Since the place pleases you," said the Inca, " ariqquepay," 1 that is, "by all means 
 remain here." 
 
 Three thousand men, it is said, remained. 
 
 'Those who are inclined to put faith in this etymology will at least permit me to observe that the word ari-qque"pay, 
 by corruption arequipa, formed from the affirmative particle art, and from qqurpay, the imperative of the verb, may be 
 understood in two distinct senses: the'verbs qqueparini (to remain behind), and qquepacani (to contain within certain 
 bounds, understood of capacity or extent), both make qquepay in the imperative. 
 

I LAY TO AREQUIPA. 
 
 :;:; 
 
 Valera simply observes that the word Arequipa signifies ''sonorous or loud- 
 sounding trumpet." In the idiom of the children of the Sun quepa does, in fact, mean a 
 trumpet, but the affirmative particle ari does not express any idea of sonorousness. 
 We believe in this etymological guess the least. 
 
 During two centuries, Arequipa, a simple Indian village, like its neighbours 
 Sucahuaya and Paucarpata, which date from the same epoch, was governed by curacas 
 or caciques nominated by the reigning Inca. In 1530, on the 5th of July, Pedro 
 
 THE AUTHOR S HOUSE AT AREQUIPA. 
 
 Anzurez de Campo Kedondo, one of the adventurers who followed Pizarro into 
 America, destroyed the village, and built a city in. its place. Since that period, 
 Arequipa, eight times partially destroyed, and thrice overthrown from its very founda- 
 tions by earthquakes, has twice changed its site. Let me, however, hasten to say, for 
 the honour of the Misti at whose foot the city is built, that this volcano is by no means 
 responsible for the calamities which have befallen the city. The author of all its evils is 
 the Huayna-Putina of the valley of Moquehua, a fire -belching mountain which 
 geographers of robust faith have transported into the valley of Coripuna. 
 
 The most violent eruption of Huayna-Putina took place in 1G09. The first signs 
 of the volcanic tempest were hollow rumblings beneath the earth's crust. These 
 subterranean disturbances, accompanied by ear-splitting claps of thunder, were followed 
 by torrents of rain, which continued to fall for fourteen days. Then the volcano began 
 to eject cinders, stones, and sand in such masses, and to such an extent, that the 
 light of the sun was obscured. This frightful tempest continued for forty-five days. 
 The city of Arequipa was completely destroyed, and, as well as its valley, was covered 
 
34 PERU. 
 
 with a thick bed of ashes. The neighbouring rivers, obstructed by sand and stones, 
 changed their course, leaving upon their shores thousands of dead fish, the corruption 
 of which occasioned a pestilence in the country. Beyond Quellea, at the mouth of the 
 valley, the Avaters of the sea, to a distance of ten miles, were turned to a grayish 
 colour; and Lima, the royal capital, at a distance of more than GOO miles, could count, 
 by the reports which from minute to minute shook the ground, every throe of the 
 agony suffered by Arequipa. 
 
 The present city, occupying an area of about 26,000 square yards, is far from 
 being symmetrically laid out. It is divided into five quarters, which are subdivided 
 into eighty-five blocks {ties or madras), giving a total of 20G4 houses for a popula- 
 tion of about 17,000 souls. The number of cabarets is 928, a figure which at first 
 may seem very high, but will not be thought extraordinary if we bear in mind the 
 burning thirst of a people who live and multiply over a volcano. The quarters of the 
 city, respectively named Santo Domingo, San Francisco, San Mercedo, San Agustin, 
 and Miraflores, have each a church and a convent for men; besides which, there are 
 three convents for women, a Beguinage under the protection of St. Francis, and a 
 house of spiritual exercise, where, during the "holy week," the fair sex of Arequipa 
 come to flagellate themselves in remembrance of the passion of our Lord. The idlers 
 of the city, aware of this circumstance, are accustomed at night to station themselves 
 under the windows of this pious abode, to listen to the blows of the whip which the 
 women apply to one another in the darkness, accompanying the operation with sharp 
 cries. f 
 
 - 
 
 The churches and convents, constructed for security against earthquakes, present 
 little that is remarkable in architecture. The Avails are built of stones to half their 
 height only; all the rest is woodAvork, plaster, or loam. The interior arrangement 
 of the convents is ahvays in the form of a square more or less perfect, with a quadri- 
 lateral cloister, from which open the cells. The plan of the churches is that of a 
 capital T, the ancient Tau, or a Latin cross. For the most part they have only a nave 
 without side-aisles. Their vaulted roofs, Avhich rise from forty to fifty feet above the 
 ground, are sometimes strengthened by double arches, and supported by Avails, generally 
 smooth, from seven to eight feet thick. In an architectural point of vieAV, the interior 
 of these churches is no doubt a little naked, but that nakedness is more than redeemed 
 by the ornamentation of their facades, where the architect, no longer fearing to 
 compromise the safety of his Avork, has combined, according to whatever rule he 
 finds most convenient, egg-and tongue mouldings, volutes, cauliflowers and chiccory, 
 fire-pots and balustrades, urns and columns, acroteria and terminals, such as charac- 
 terized the Hispano-Lusitanian taste of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. All 
 these toys, which at a distance one would think were turned rather than sculptured, are 
 whitened with lime-wash, and being placed on the salient points of the straight lines 
 as upon shelves, have the look of those ivory chessmen which are carved by the Chinese 
 and the people of Dieppe. 
 
 If art and taste are at fault in these monuments, they are supplemented by a 
 grand display of wealth. Gold and silver, precious stones and rich draperies, are 
 
ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 
 
 35 
 
 lavished with prodigality upon the altars and vestments of the images. The Christs — 
 there are many in the Peruvian calendar, such as the Christ of Earthquakes, of 
 Remedies, of the Faithful, Dead, &c. — are dressed in skirts of point-lace from England, 
 and have crowns of the Acacia triacanthus, each thorn in which is composed of an 
 emerald five inches long; the nails which fasten the image to the cross have diamond 
 heads, and furrows formed of rubies imitate the blood of the wounds. The blessed 
 Virgins, still more numerous, are dressed in farthingales or hooped petticoats, with 
 court mantles of velvet, brocade, or embroidered satin; head-dresses adorned with 
 streamers; turbans surmounted with feathers, collars of pearls, ear-rings of brilliants, 
 jewelled rings on every finger, watches with chain and charms, 
 brooches and scent- boxes, pocket-handkerchiefs of lace, and 
 fans covered with spangles. 
 
 Seeing such magnificence complacently exposed to the 
 public eye, a stranger who visits the country to seek his for- 
 tune is astonished that the petty thieves of Arequipa — who 
 are as numerous, by the way, as the shop-keepers and coster- 
 mongers themselves— have never yet thought of working this 
 rich mine. One cannot help asking, What scruple or what 
 motive can keep these chevaliers d'industrie with their hands 
 idly tucked in their pockets? It is simply their wholesome 
 terror of committing any outrage upon Holy Church. As for 
 the huaso, the cholo, or any other ordinary specimen of man- 
 kind, very little would be thought of strangling him, or 
 cutting his throat for the sake of emptying his pockets; but 
 to steal a wax candle from a church is what these conscientious vagabonds would 
 never dare to do, for fear of hell and eternal fire. Such an article of faith, let us 
 admit, is most admirable! Unhappily, sooner or later it is sure to be undermined. 
 The day will come, if it has not already arrived, Avhen these sons of the soil, civilized 
 by contact with packet-boats, steamboats, and transatlantic cables, will seek to rival 
 the pickpockets of Europe, and depend upon it, their first essay will be a master- 
 stroke. 
 
 The churches of Arequipa, often destroyed and rebuilt, are for the most part from 
 two to three centuries old. The cathedral alone, which occupies all one side of the Plaza 
 Mayor, is of quite modern date, having been built to replace the old structure 
 consumed by fire — the work of an incendiary — in 1849. This structure measures 
 about two hundred feet square, and is crowned by two wooden towers with rather squat- 
 looking pyramidal roofs. Eight massive columns of the Roman Ionic order, and many 
 smaller engaged columns, decorate the facade. The central entrance under this is 
 surmounted by a pediment suitably ornamented with an acroterium and other archi- 
 tectural devices. Two porticoes, decorated with numerous Corinthian columns, spring 
 from either extremity of the edifice, which is pierced with numerous windows, and 
 whose total height from the ground to the attic near the apex of the roof may be 
 from forty to fifty feet. This massive structure, square at the base, square at the 
 
 / 
 
 ..i 
 
30 PERU. 
 
 roof, virgin white with lime-wash, and glistening with cactus gum, stands out with 
 singular boldness against the ultramarine blue of a sky almost always unclouded. 
 
 Notwithstanding the imposing appearance of the modern cathedral, it is im- 
 possible not to regret the destruction of its predecessor, Avhose walls of mouse- 
 coloured gray harmonize so well with a style of architectural adornment on which 
 the architect had lavished all his resources of taste. There was no salient point 
 of the old edifice, however slight, which did not support a vase or some other kind 
 of finial. That erection, however, possessed a greater treasure than its wealth of 
 architecture, or the splendours of its sacristy, in its gallery of portraits of bishops, 
 which consisted of nineteen pictures magnificently framed, all destroyed by the 
 fire of 1849. The portraits represented the whole line of bishops who had suc- 
 ceeded to the spiritual government of Arequipa from the year 1614, arranged in 
 chronological order. The figures were of full-length size, painted by native artists, 
 and remarkable for this peculiarity, that the first of the series having served in 
 arrangement, design, and colour as a model for the painter of the second, the 
 subsequent artists had also thought it their duty to follow suit, so that every 
 picture during two centuries had been an exact copy of those which preceded it, 
 and the portraits were so scrupulously alike, so perfectly identical, that one might 
 have supposed only a single picture existed, which was multiplied nineteen times 
 by means of mirrors. While we grieve over the loss of this precious collection of 
 clerical Dromios seated on gilded thrones, all draped in the same fashion, placed in 
 the same attitude, holding the same book, and looking at the same spot, we 
 cannot but lament the indifference of the Peruvian government in regard to dan- 
 ger by fire. Such an institution as firemen are unknown in the great cities of this 
 republic. 
 
 After the churches come the convents, massive and commonplace buildings, which 
 owe nothing to architectural art but the semicircular arches of their galleries. 
 Without the stone cross over their gates, they might be easily mistaken for ordinary 
 private dwellings, their exterior appearance is so poor, cold, and naked. Let me, 
 however, hasten to say that this architectural poverty is not strictly symbolic; all 
 the convents are rich, and they do not conceal the fact. Why should they attempt 
 to do so? every one knows within a few reals the amount of their income, and 
 what profit they derive, one year with another, from the haciendas which they 
 possess in the valleys. 
 
 Besides its wealth in property and hard cash, in the costly ornaments and 
 jewels which adorn its chapels, every convent possesses in its archives and its 
 library, composed of some hundreds of works, often of a rare and precious char- 
 acter, a treasure of which the value is far from being appreciated. The monks, 
 occupied with divers cares, have no time or inclination to bestow a thought on 
 these dusty volumes. They are equally slow to offer any facility to others who 
 woidd care for them, and it needs a powerful recommendation to be admitted 
 with a view to literary research. By way of compensation, however, the convent 
 cloister is open to all the world. From the hour of six in the morning to six in 
 

ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 39 
 
 the evening any one who pleases may walk up and down in the agreeable shade, 
 and there read or smoke his cigar at pleasure. 
 
 From the containing vessel let us pass to the thing it contains, from the 
 monastery to the monk. Though under the ban in Spain, he enjoys in Peru the 
 highest possible consideration. As in the happiest days of his history, the monk is 
 the adviser of men, the confidant of women, the friend of every house, the welcome 
 guest at every feast. The sight of his frock, so far from inspiring sad and 
 mournful ideas, is the immediate cause of mirth and gaiety. The amiable and 
 tolerant religion of the monk is no hindrance to his enjoyment of the social board 
 or the dance, or of whatever besides that serves to make life pleasant. Like a man 
 of the world (from whom he differs only in costume), the monk comes and goes at 
 pleasure, and in all respects enjoys an unlimited liberty of action. Like other 
 people, he has his reception days and his circle of friends. In his cell, transformed 
 into a drawing-room, chocolate, liqueurs, and cakes go the round, politics and 
 music, religion and literature, take their turn; nor are the virtues of the fair sex 
 excluded from the conversation, which is accompanied with a guitar and cigarettes. 
 In a word, one enjoys in the monk's cell every lawful pleasure, though seasoned 
 with I know not what grain of ecclesiastical scruple, which only augments its savour. 
 
 The monastic rule, much more severe in the communities of women, does not 
 permit them under any pretext to cross the threshold of the convent where they 
 have pronounced their vows. Even for a doctor to visit them in case of illness 
 needs a dispensation from the bishop. A gardener is the only male individual 
 whose presence is tolerated in a convent, this happy exception to the general 
 rule not being a man in the eyes of the religieuse. Thus secluded beneath the 
 shadow of their lofty walls, these holy women, who one might suppose wearing 
 out their lives in prayers, tears, and mortifying ceremonials, nevertheless pass a 
 sufficiently agreeable time. Their little cell is a thoroughly comfortable apartment, 
 where each nun enjoys as much luxury in drapery and furniture as the for- 
 tune of her family (upon whom the cost of her installation exclusively falls) can 
 afford. Each has her library, her pet birds, her guitar, her little garden of rare flowers, 
 and even her bosom friend, or adopted sister, who shares in her secret ennuis, her 
 pleasures, and her confidences. A friendship of this kind, born in the shade of the 
 cloister, often becomes a passion. From nones to nones there goes on a constant 
 exchange of tender missives, containing endless vows of undying friendship, boucpiets 
 of flowers and serenades, sometimes interrupted by a terrible explosion, the cause 
 of which may be a smile, or a slight preference of some kind, shown to a rival. 
 Unconsciously to themselves, these poor recluses play with the profane love which 
 they fancy themselves to have renounced; and who would dream of imputing it to 
 them as a crime? 
 
 Although these devotees cannot leave the convent, they have the privilege of 
 receiving, and even of inviting to lunch, their relations of both sexes, and even the 
 friends of their relatives. The meal on these occasions is served in the parlour — 
 a great vaulted apartment, divided into two by gratings, and the table is placed so 
 
40 PERU. 
 
 near one of these gratings, that the nun seated at the other side can see and dis- 
 course with her guests. The conversation habitually turns on the recent gossip of 
 the city; every kind of small talk about love-makings, marriages, births and deaths, 
 is mingled with epigrammatic observations and bursts of laughter. When gentle- 
 men are present they do not forget to season their pleasantries with a little of what 
 I may call Attic salt. By merely shutting the eyes one may imagine himself in 
 some ordinary drawing-room in the midst of an animated and fashionable company. 
 
 Sometimes a stranger is invited by the family to one of these monastic but savoury 
 breakfasts. After the ordinary compliments, the nun at once begins to inquire, with 
 an amiable show of interest, as to the birthplace and parentage of her guest, She 
 even questions him as to his orthodoxy and the state of his heart; as to the illusions 
 which time has dispelled, and those which he still cherishes; as to the countries he has 
 visited, and the adventures of which he has been the hero. If the stranger's answers 
 are satisfactory, she makes him promise that when he next passes the convent he will 
 call in to take a glass of sherbet, and exchange a friendly good-day with the desgraciada 
 (unfortunate) who inhabits it: so she styles herself. At the end of the repast, in the 
 general bustle of parting, if the stranger has talked himself into her good graces, a 
 beloved brother, or an influential uncle, undertakes to induce her to raise her vail, 
 that the friend of the family, who has never yet seen her, may carry away her image 
 engraved on his memory. After a little hesitation — for that action so simple is a 
 mortal sin — she yields to their entreaties, not without first assuring herself, by a rapid 
 glance round, that the mother and the sisters have their backs turned. Of course the 
 only way in which a favour of this kind can be acknowledged is to express the most 
 lively admiration, murmuring aside, but so as to be sure that the nun hears, Que faz 
 encantadora ! (What a sweet face!) It may happen that the vestal is snub-nosed, has a 
 jaundiced skin, and but five teeth in her head, but it is-the intention she values; and 
 the stranger gains by his harmless flattery the reputation of being a man of taste and 
 a gentleman. 
 
 In a country where pastry-cooks and confectioners have not yet penetrated, these 
 communities of women monopolize the manufacture of sweets, cakes, and ornamental 
 pastry. They supply to order the necessities of every ball, wedding, or other party, 
 sparing no pains to satisfy the public and increase the number of their customers, 
 and this not so much for the love of gain, as for the pleasure of outdoing some other 
 community, because, say they, you may stone us to death for the indiscretion, yet it is 
 undeniable that there exists between the various convents a bitter rivalry, the cause 
 of which is as yet unknown to the physiologist, though the fact is daily attested by the 
 petty annoyances which these religious ladies inflict on each other, and the abuse, 
 nay, blows, which their servants resort to wdien they meet in the streets. 
 
 Each community is noted for some speciality in cookery, which recommends it 
 to the appreciation of the public. The convent of Ste. Rose has its m.azomora au 
 carmin, a preparation of the consistency of pap, and of a reddish colour; it is 
 exposed at night on the convent roof, where the cold imparts some peculiar quality 
 to it. The Ste. Catherine's sisterhood excels in petits-fours (little patties), and in a con- 
 
ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 41 
 
 fiture of chicken stewed in milk of almonds: this is the manj'ar bianco or blanc-mange 
 of the country. In fine, the Carmelites are proud of their fritters of honey, sprinkled 
 with powder of dried rose-leaves and spangles of gold; and of their imperiaux, or 
 yolks of eggs beaten up with powdered sugar, and curdled by a process unknown 
 to us. Let it be observed that it is not to the community that any particular order is 
 addressed, but to one of the nuns, who, on sending home the cakes, takes care at 
 the same time to send in her bill, as would be done by an ordinaiy pastry-cook. 
 
 Some of the nuns whose friends cannot afford to assist them, make up a certain 
 amount of income by the sale of their cakes; others, whose friends are wealthy, 
 and who are above profiting in this way, content themselves 
 with making and cooking these dainties from the pure love 
 of the art, and the pleasure they give to their friends and 
 acquaintances. The latter, whom we may call the finer porce- 
 lain of the convent, receive from their friends every Monday 
 enough provisions to last them a week, and which generally 
 consist of a quarter of beef and a whole sheep, to say nothing 
 of tender chickens, choice fish, seasonable game, eggs, fruits, 
 and vegetables. After having selected from these viands the 
 portion they prefer for their own particular cuisine — for our 
 nuns have the privilege of using the pot an feu in their cells 
 whenever they do not wish to go into the refectory — they 
 give the rest to the community, which by this means is enabled Ca0LA 0F AKEQD , PA . 
 
 to keep its commissariat on a war-footing at small cost. 
 
 Thanks to the troop of cholas, more or less active, more or less acute, that 
 each nun entertains at her cost in the character of domestics, scullions, messengers, 
 and the like, who are in and out of the convent from morning till evening, she 
 knows better than the inhabitants themselves what is going on in the city and 
 suburbs. If a stranger has put up at some tampu, if a citizen has loitered too long 
 opposite some other window than his own, if two drunken senores have fallen foul of 
 each other in the streets instead of singing the office and the Ave Maria, the inhabi- 
 tants of the convent are sure to be the first to hear of the fact. Though she has shut 
 herself up in a tomb, the nun of Arequipa has cleverly kept its roof open to the world. 
 
 Besides the saint day of their convent, which the nuns celebrate by mass with 
 music, and a display of fireworks let off between eleven and twelve in the day 
 according to the custom of the country, there are certain festivals of the church 
 which are solemnized by masquerades, accompanied by songs and dances. Christmas- 
 eve is one of these. Before the episode of the Nativity, theatrically represented 
 by means of painted decorations and pasteboard dolls acting the various parts, 
 the nuns divide themselves into two parties, the one of shepherds, the other of 
 peasants, and carry on a dialogue to the sound of the guitar and accordion, while 
 dancing quadrilles de circonstance. 1 Eight days previously, such of the nuns as had 
 
 1 Quadrilles for the occasion, in which some appropriate action is introduced : known to some of our readers, perhaps, 
 as "improved quadrilles." — Tr. 
 
42 
 
 PERU. 
 
 to play in the character of shepherds had borrowed from their relations and friends 
 of the male sex the handsomest articles of their attire, so that they might have 
 time to alter them to their own height, and embellish them with tinsel, ribbons, and other 
 trimmings in the correctest taste. We ourselves remember to have taken on one of 
 these occasions a satin waistcoat, a frock-coat, and a pair of black pantaloons, which 
 had certainly neither a very pastoral nor a very scriptural look, but which, nevertheless, 
 were received with pleasure on account of their elegant French cut. Alas! after 
 Christmas-day we received back our patched garments in a most deplorable condition, 
 
 f Iff I k 
 
 - \ v \ \,s^' 
 
 
 APPEARANCE OF THE HOUSE-TOPS OF AREQUIPA. 
 
 but as they had been worn by a holy sister, and sanctified by monastic quadrilles, 
 in place of pitching them into the river, as an indifferent or irreligious person would 
 have done, we have preserved them with great care under the name of relics. 
 
 The conventual ride which interdicts the public from admittance into these com- 
 munities of women, the reception-room or parlour excepted, is relaxed in a time of 
 emeute or revolution. In such dreadful times the feminine aristocracy of the city 
 find a welcome and sure asylum in these monasteries, the gates of which are thrown 
 wide open for their reception. It is to them that every family flees for refuge, 
 carrying Avith them gold and jewels, plate, and whatever precious objects they possess, 
 and leaving the house almost without furniture to the care of a father or a husband 
 who barricades himself in with the customary precautions. After staying a month 
 in a monastery under these circumstances, women have been known to refuse to 
 return under the conjugal roof, captivated by the amiability of the nuns, and the 
 sweetness of intercourse with them. 
 
ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 43 
 
 After death, if the souls of these holy women are borne to heaven on angels' 
 wings, their bodies, which for a long period it was customary to bury in the churches 
 with those of the citizens, are now carried away by men into a vast cemetery, adorned 
 with funereal monuments, at the distance of two leagues southward from Arequipa. 
 Each religious community has in that asylum, which they call an apacliecta (place 
 of rest), a special vault. The aristocracy of the city make use of certain parts of the 
 Avails, six feet in thickness, pierced with three rows of cells. Each cell is occupied 
 by a single body, the head of which is introduced first as into a sheath, and the 
 entrance of this narrow sepulchre being finally closed with bricks and plaster. As 
 for the Indians of Arequipa, men and women alike are thrown negligently into a 
 great trench, Avhere all the rats of the country come to visit them. 
 
 Now that Ave have done with the convents of men and women, let us take a 
 stroll through the city haphazard, not in the expectation of discovering any remarkable 
 monuments — Arequipa has nothing of the kind — but to get a notion of the arrange- 
 ment of its streets and the aspect of its houses. In general, the streets are broad 
 and Avell paved, laid out at right angles, with side-walks for foot-passengers, sep- 
 arated from the road by gutters of granite (aceqitias), in which the torrents of 
 water Avhich pour down from the Cordilleras roll noisily along to the river. The 
 houses resemble each other in all but a feAv details. They are all built of stone, some- 
 times of gray trachyte, have vaulted roofs, and are pierced Avith large bay-Avindows, 
 Avhich are protected by bars of iron, and shutters inside covered with sheet-iron, 
 as a precaution against burglars and the shots of aneit tiers. The entrance -gate, 
 generally arched, has tAvo leaA r es formidably adorned with great S's of iron and heads 
 of nails. Their width is sufficient for tAvo carriages to pass without touching. These 
 houses have only a ground -floor and sometimes one story aboA T e, Avhich is nearly 
 always uninhabited, and opens upon a balcony like a long and clumsy chest of carved 
 wood, painted red, brown, or dark green, and capable of being opened or closed at 
 will by means of movable panels. These balconies, in AAdiich the women do not 
 appear except on special occasions, throw deep shadows over the facades of the 
 buildings. 
 
 The interior of these dAvellings is composed of two courts en suite, paA r ed with 
 pebbles, and bordered Avith broad foot-paths (veredas). The walls of the first court 
 are white-washed, and sometimes ornamented with monochromes in a primitive style, 
 and of a design more primitive still; representing naval combats, impossible situations, 
 and stations of the cross. The reception-rooms and bedrooms of the family are aiTanged, 
 in most houses, upon the tAvo lateral faces of this entrance-court, and the bed is 
 placed under the arch of an arcade, Avhich is not less than from four to six feet thick. 
 This peculiar arrangement is a measure of precaution on account of earthquakes. 
 These apartments have no windows, but massive folding-doors, pierced with a judas 
 or a small wicket, which serves to give air and light. Beyond the courts there is 
 generally a garden, bounded by the semicircular arches of a large apartment paved 
 with tiles or flag-stones, which seiwes as a dining-room. 
 
 It cannot be said that the houses of Arequipa are luxurious abodes. With the 
 
44 
 
 PERU. 
 
 exception of those belonging to foreign merchants and distinguished citizens, where 
 paper-hangings are used in the principal rooms, they all have white-washed walls, 
 ornamented with Greek borders, love-knots, and caligraphic nourishes in red ochre 
 or indigo blue. The little furniture they contain is of two kinds: it is either in the 
 Spanish taste, cut out of the solid wood as with a hatchet, coloured white or 
 sky-blue, besprent with roses and china-asters, and relieved by gilded lines; or in 
 
 A BED-ROOM AT AREQUIPA IN THE OLD STYLE. 
 
 the Greek-imperial style, such as Jacob Desmalters was celebrated for manufacturing 
 in 1804; sofas of mahogany (the Indian acajou) with sphinx heads and griffins' feet; 
 chairs with their backs pierced in imitation of a lyre, surmounted with a helmet or 
 a trophy of arms; and all covered with dove-coloured kerseymere, or with silver-gray 
 kerseymere printed a rose pattern. While inspecting these doubtful splendours, the 
 eye discovers here and there, lost in the shade, or dismissed into some obscure 
 corner, a beautifully carved chest, a crddence-table of black oak sculptured like lace, 
 an abbatial chair covered with cordovan, of which the floral decorations in cinnabar 
 and gold are nearly obliterated. These articles, which date from the Spanish conquest, 
 seem to protest against the miserable taste of the furniture with which they are found 
 in company. 
 
 A few Parisian lithographs in mahogany frames complete the decorations of the 
 
ILA.Y TO AREQUIPA. 4.3 
 
 modern drawing-room in Arequipa. Chief among tliese works of art shine the Souvenirs 
 and Regrets of Dubuffe; the Poetic Alphabet of Grevedon — ideal representations of 
 Amanda, Bianca, Cecilia, Delia, and so on; the Four Quarters of the World, and the 
 Four Seasons, by the anonymous geniuses of the Iiue St. Jacques. In other houses, 
 where civilization has not yet extended its enlightening rays, the walls are embellished 
 with smoke-dried pictures, representing the beheadings, crucifixions and burnings of 
 martyrs. These works of art, painted some half century ago by certain artists of Quito 
 and Cuzco named Tio Nolasco, Bruno Farfan, and Nor Egidio, are in general 
 wretched daubs. Good paintings of the Spanish school, once so common in the 
 country, have now become extremely rare, in consequence of the avidity with which 
 they have been hunted up by connoisseurs and speculators of all nations. At the 
 present time, were one to rummage all the churches and convents of Arequipa, it is 
 very doubtful if ten passable canvases could be found. 
 
 The private life of the Arequipanians is restricted, in the case of women, to gossip 
 on the politics of the day, or the small-talk of the city, conveyed by cholas, chinas, 
 negresses and chamber-maids, who constitute the always numerous domestic household. 
 Some ladies embroider, prepare sherbet, or play the guitar, but the greater number 
 pass away the week longing for Sunday: first, on account of mass, which is always 
 a pleasant change for these women, afterwards to enjoy the privilege conceded by 
 etiquette of opening on that day the parlour-windows, and of passing the afternoon 
 squatted upon carpets, and making remarks, more or less charitable, upon persons 
 in the street, In general, the women of Arequipa make few visits, but content 
 themselves with keeping up a verbal communication by means of their chamber- 
 women, and of perpetually exchanging flowers, fruits, and sweets, accompanied by 
 compliments sweeter still. Nothing less than a musical festival, a Palm Sunday, a 
 carnival, or a marriage would be needed to bring together a dozen of the fair sex 
 under one roof in this city. 
 
 The women of Arequipa, whose personal portraiture has been rather neglected 
 by travellers, are for the most part distinguished by that happy roundness of form 
 so favourable to beauty. In this respect they preserve a just medium between the 
 ampler majesty of the Chilians and the impassioned grace of the women of Lima. 
 Though but of middling stature, they carry themselves well, their shoulders are finely 
 formed, their feet small, their movements distinguished by that rhythmic balancing of 
 the hips which the Spaniards call meneo, from the verb menear, and which the French 
 remuer translates with sufficient point, If to these charms we add that of their 
 intelligent and lively looks, features delicate but irregular, black eyes whose glances 
 are like winged arrows, their vermilion lips, from which repartees and sparkling 
 conceits, seasoned with a touch of Andalusian salt, are poured out like apples and 
 raisins from the horn of plenty, the reader may form some idea, perhaps, of these 
 charming creatures who are allied to Spain by their ancestors and to Peru by their 
 ancestresses. 
 
 To a taste for perfumes and flowers they unite an equal penchant for music, 
 the song, and the dance. Dainty and disinclined to exertion, they are nevertheless 
 
4G PERU. 
 
 characterized by a singular restlessness of spirit, and pass at once from the warmest 
 enthusiasm to the most complete indifference. Their religion is neither highly spiritual 
 nor austere; they are devout rather than pious, always ready to prefer pleasure to 
 devotion, in the persuasion that a signing of the cross and a Padre nuestro will 
 compensate for any faults they commit. For these charming women love is not a 
 passion, but an agreeable pastime, a pretext for romancing, a mere something for a 
 change. They have studied it deeply and know all its resources, they take it up and 
 lay it down at pleasure, they invite it or repel it as caprice dictates, and display 
 in all these different manoeuvres the coolness and ability of an old band-master 
 conducting a symphony. 
 
 These love-sports, in which the fair sex of Arequipa show themselves first-rate 
 adepts even by the side of the Limanians, are indulged in by married women only, 
 who, as one does or does not know, enjoy in this country, as in France, absolute 
 liberty. Love is for them the daily game of whist or boston, which diverts their 
 thoughts from the bondage of wedded life. The maidens of the country, confined to 
 their barred chambers, and under the immediate surveillance of their family, never 
 cease, poor turtle-doves, to groan and sigh for a union by which alone they can 
 expect emancipation, and be permitted, in their turn, to taste of the forbidden fruit. 
 This natural desire, transmitted from Eve to all her offspring, and sharpened by 
 the precocious maturity of the girls of Arequipa, causes them to cherish at a very 
 tender age the most vehement matrimonial aspirations. In a cosmopolitan spirit, 
 very flattering to the -self-love of Europeans, they prefer foreigners to their own 
 countrymen, with whatever eminent qualities the latter may be gifted. A foreigner, 
 though he may have neither youth nor beauty in his favour, and nothing whatever 
 may be known of his antecedents, instantly throws into a flutter the whole crowd of 
 mammas and marriageable daughters. They dispute possession of him one with 
 another, they snatch at him as at a morsel of the true cross, bouquets and recados 
 (presents) of all kinds, from the toilet-soap of Piver to the silk handkerchiefs of 
 Lyons — such are the tokens of friendship peculiar to these countries — pursue him 
 even to his private apartments. Flasks of eau-de-Cologne, little attentions, flatteries, 
 everything is done to catch in the net of marriage this fine bird from distant Europe, 
 whom innocently cruel hands would pluck alive perhaps soon afterwards. The houses 
 at which he calls are for ever beating to arms, the furniture is relieved of its covers, 
 jewels are taken out of their boxes, the family plate is displayed iqion the sideboards 
 and tables, the servants, properly trained, have orders to make themselves agreeable 
 to their future master, the cats are commanded to purr and the dogs to wag their 
 tails when he approaches. From the venerable grandmother to the youngest child 
 in the family, the only question is, who shall show the highest appreciation of the 
 stranger's merits, who shall flatter him the most with sweet Avords. The claws are 
 hidden in the velvet paw, the lips distil choice honey, the tenderest rose colour and 
 the bluest azure is spread over all, guitars tuned to the hymeneal pitch twang 
 incessantly the happiness of two devoted hearts. Everything, in fine, even to the 
 air impregnated with the perfume of burning pastiles, conspires to charm the soul 
 
ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 47 
 
 and the senses of the stranger. In the midst of this mise en scene, of which our 
 poor prose can hardly convey an idea, the goddess of the fete, the virgin of the hearth, 
 is prepared like a shrine. Seated upon a sofa, her arms supine, her hands modestly 
 crossed, her eyes apparently fixed upon a flower of the Atuncolla carpet, she is in 
 reality devoutly attentive to the effect produced upon the visitor by the marriage- 
 making programme. Some Europeans, whose hearts are cuirassed in that ces triplex 
 of which Horace speaks, come out victorious from these trials ; but the greater number 
 succumb, and meekly bowing their shoulders to the conjugal yoke become established 
 in the country, where they presently lose not only their illusions, but their hair and 
 their teeth. 
 
 An account of the manners and customs of the fair sex of Arequipa would be 
 incomplete if we did not relate in what fashion the women dressed their hair and 
 shaped their garments, and of what materials they make choice. We know well 
 enough details of this kind will arouse the anger of classic spirits, and will cause 
 grave men to raise their shoulders with a shrug of disdain; but then their wives and 
 their daughters will be interested, and that is sufficient for me. A French woman, 
 above all a Parisian, is always glad to learn whether a woman abroad surpasses her 
 in beauty or grace, in dress or intelligence, and is equally ready to commiserate or 
 revile her according to circumstances. 
 
 Dressmakers, modistes, and hair-dressers being as yet unknown in Arequipa, 
 it is the ladies themselves who cut out, sew, and trim their garments and fripperies; 
 who disentangle, arrange, and curl their hair. To say that these arrangements are 
 made in exquisite taste, and copied from the engravings of the latest fashion, would 
 be to gloss the severe truth. To speak frankly, there is generally in the cut of the 
 corsage and the sleeve, in the shortness and scantiness of the skirt, that mysterious 
 something which characterized the fashions of the Restoration, and gave to the women 
 of that epoch a certain resemblance to birds of the order of waders. Some fashionable 
 ladies of Arequipa wear, along with the high tortoise-shell comb of the Andalusians, 
 bunches of borrowed ringlets imported from England under the name of anglaises, 
 the shade of which is not always exactly the same as that of their own hair. These 
 lionesses also generally adorn their heads with a bird of paradise, one of those aigrettes 
 of glass-thread made in Germany, or toy butterflies mounted upon a spiral wire, 
 which they name tembleques, and which vibrate at every movement. The climate of 
 the country renders the fan almost useless; instead of it the ladies have a silk or 
 velvet bag with steel mountings or chains. This they carry in their hands and balance 
 coquettishly when they make their visits. Some of our matrons whose memories 
 reach back to the fashionable whimsies of the period from 1815 to 1820, will smile at 
 these souvenirs of bygone times. 
 
 The materials most affected in the city and province of Arequipa are plain or 
 figured silks in lively tints, prints with large spots or sprawling flowers, and muslins 
 with broad stripes or flowers of many colours. I ought to add that the prints 
 and the muslins in which the shopkeepers' and farmers' little daughters disport them- 
 selves are only worn at home in neglige by the women of the aristocracy. On great 
 
48 
 
 PERU. 
 
 occasions and gala -clays the latter abandon the rebos or mantle of Castilian wool 
 which they carry about with them during the whole year, to display themselves in 
 cuerpo, that is to say, decollete as for a ball, and with bare arms. Those of the women 
 whose delicacy would suffer from cold or pleurisy after an exhibition of this kind, 
 or those whose shoulder- bones are a little too obtrusive, cover themselves with a 
 light scarf, or a China crape shawl of some striking colour. Their feet, very small 
 and prettily shaped, are always covered with silk stockings and white satin shoes, an 
 
 LADY OF AREyUIPA IN FULL DRESS. 
 
 elegant little detail of dress which gives to their carriage I know not what grace, 
 lightness, or poetry of motion by which the eye and the imagination are equally 
 charmed. 
 
 The presence and the carriage of Peruvian women, that garbo and that meneo which 
 they derive through their fathers from the Spaniards, are but ill-suited to tight stays 
 with steel busks, with hoops and wires, which make the glory and triumph of the 
 women of Paris. The generality of these charming women also — one's hand trembles 
 to write the profane accusation — -wear our French fashions very awkwardly; and now 
 that this fatal adverb has escaped us we will even brave the wrath and indignation 
 of the lovable creatures whose monograph we have attempted to write, by avowing 
 that the woman of Arequipa, traversing the street en grande toilette, reticule in hand, 
 and butterflies or crystal feathers fluttering on her head, is by far less charming in our 
 eyes than the same woman en deshabille, with her large comb, her orange or flame coloured 
 
ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 
 
 49 
 
 shawl, worn carelessly like a veil, a rose in her hair, and reclining negligently upon a sofa 
 or squatted on a carpet, and puffing the smoke of a cigar heavenwards. Besides their 
 out-door toilets, their negliffS costume at home, and their riding-habits — for most of 
 these ladies are good equestrians — they have a church -going costume, invariably 
 black, composed of a jupe of silk and a mantilla of the same stuff trimmed with 
 velvet and lace, which they fold back from their foreheads. This article of apparel, 
 of Spanish origin, suits them to admiration, a fact which they themselves do not 
 
 3 ^«s|>v, L ; '":-=•. 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 
 
 
 LADY OF AREQUIPA IN RIDING COSTUME. 
 
 '\» <V\1 
 
 seem to suspect, if Ave may judge from the haste they are in to throw it off when 
 they return from church. The use of hassocks or prie-dieus being unknown in the 
 churches of Peru, the women are followed at a distance by a young servant carrying 
 a carpet upon which they kneel. For a fashionable woman of Arequipa the very 
 height of bon ton is to have for her carpet -bearer a little Indian from the Sierra 
 Nevada; whether a boy or a girl is of no consequence, but the little dwarf should be 
 as round as a tub, and clothed in the traditional costume, Avhich is designedly 
 exaggerated to render it grotesque. To be followed by a couple of these marmots 
 is the very tiptop of fashion. The gift of a young Indian of from four to five years 
 old is such a present from a man to a woman as shows the very best taste. The 
 sweetest of wheedlings, the most express commands, are brought to bear upon the 
 traveller who leaves home for the Sierra. Vicla mia, no se olricle U. Mandarine nil 
 Indiecito! (My life, do not forget to bring me a little Indian!) Such is sure to be 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
50 
 
 PERU. 
 
 the parting phrase, and if the traveller has no reason to decline compliance, he 
 selects from some family of the Indians one or two children of the required age, 
 whom he purchases from the father for a few piastres and a supply of cocoa and 
 brandy. The mother, who has received nothing, of course raises a great outcry at 
 
 LADY OF AKEQCIPA DRESSED FOR CHCRCH, ACCOMPANIED BY HER CARPET -BE ARER. 
 
 the idea of parting with the Benjamin of her family, but the traveller consoles her 
 with a new petticoat, and for a little rum even obtains her consent. Possessed of the 
 prize, he profits by the departure of the first caravan to pack him off like luggage 
 to the lady of his heart. The arrival of the young autochthone exites no end of 
 transports; they lift him down from the mule upon which he is perched, they admire 
 him, and laugh over him till they cry. Then he has to be undressed, soaped all 
 over and his skin scraped, nay, almost stripped off; lastly, he is clothed in a costume 
 
ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 
 
 51 
 
 with which he is delighted and proud. After a certain amount of indigestion, for 
 the child cannot be expected to change with impunity the poor living of his home 
 for the cakes and other luxuries which he gets among his new friends, his stomach 
 acquires the necessary dilatation, and the little actor plays, to the general satisfaction, 
 his double part of page and lap-dog. 
 
 Unhappily, nothing is stable here below. Our little Indian finds this to his cost 
 when he reaches his twelfth year, and his owners finding that his legs have grown 
 too long for the office of carpet-bearer, banish him from the parlour and deprive 
 
 TYPES OF THE VALLEY OF AK EQ UI P A— A RPET- BE AREES OUT OF OFFICE. 
 
 him of his livery. He is then passed on to the kitchen, where the domestics, of 
 whose little secrets he had so long been the tale-bearer, make him pay by many a 
 twitch of the nose for his past indiscretions and prosperity. 
 
 Although these Indians are sold away, or given up by their good parents, and 
 are in some degree brutalized, they are not slaves, for on arriving at age they dispose 
 of themselves as they please, and no one has any claim upon them. Sometimes the 
 young man will remain in the character of domestic in the house where he had 
 grown up, sometimes he quits it and offers his services elsewhere. Women stay 
 voluntarily. In course of time they contract out-door relations of a too temporary 
 character, and the offspring which results, as used to be the case with the negro girls 
 among the planters of the Antilles, increases by so much the number of domestics 
 attached to the house. These children of love, once parted from their mothers, 
 are trained by their mistresses to become carpet-bearers, but they have never the same 
 attraction in their eyes as the little Indian of pure blood from the Sierra Nevada. 
 
 At Arequipa, as in all great cities, the men are more occupied out of doors than 
 
52 
 
 PERU. 
 
 at home; a man is always called away by some business or other. These Arequipanians 
 pass much of their time in going from house to house with political objects in view, 
 in smoking an indefinite number of cigarettes, mingled with games of monte or dice, 
 in taking a siesta, in riding on horseback, in love-making, and in dreaming of the 
 glorious future of the republic. But if, from this manner of passing their time, the 
 reader should infer the want of intelligence or instruction among the natives, he 
 would greatly deceive himself; they have all learned much if they have not retained 
 much, and run through successively the vast fields of theology, jurisprudence, canon 
 
 
 TTPES OF AREQl'IPA— INDIAN OF THE PACIFIC COAST. 
 
 and civil law, and medicine and surgery, these sciences being held in honour at 
 Arequipa and preferred to all others. These men, apparently occupied with trifles, 
 have nevertheless publicly sustained the theses necessary to acquire the diploma 
 of Bachelor of Arts. They have, besides, a great faculty for versification, and are 
 clever in gallant and elegant turns of bouts-rimes, in which they are exercised in- 
 cessantly by their fair friends. If they show themselves indifferent to intellectual 
 pursuits it is not then through ignorance, but the effect of philosophy, of instinct, and 
 from that never-enough-to-be-admired laziness which they have inherited from then* 
 fathers, and which they cherish as a sacred fire. Every idea of innovation or of pro- 
 gress which would disturb the quietude which they so much enjoy is antipathetic to 
 them. The moral and physical activity of the European is a phenomenon at which 
 they can only marvel like savages gaping to hear the ticking of a watch, the cause 
 of which they cannot explain. It is necessary to add, that they do not even try — 
 Para que sirve eso? (Of what good is it?) is the unfailing question with which they 
 meet everything that they either disdain or fail to comprehend. 
 
1LAY TO AREQUIPA. 
 
 53 
 
 Scientific establishments, colleges, and schools are numerous in Arequipa. Its 
 faculty of medicine, whose sheet-anchor is bleeding, rivals that of Chuquisaca in Upper 
 Pern. The university of St. Augustin, the two academies, and the college of In- 
 dependence, founded by the great Marshal Gutierez de la Fnente, enjoys an undisputed 
 
 CHURCH OF SAN FRANCISCO AT AREQUIPA. 
 
 celebrity. The public library, which dates from 1821, owes its existence to the zeal 
 of a friend of learning named Sieur Evaristo Gomez Sanchez. It possesses some 2000 
 volumes of theology and jurisprudence, the map of Pern prepared by order of the 
 liberator Simon Bolivar, the atlas of M. Vangondy, hydrographer to Lonis XV., a 
 volume of caricatures by "Gavarni," two theodolites and an armillary sphere, not to 
 forget a librarian and a porter. Let us add to these clivers establishments two printing- 
 offices, each publishing a small journal which records the acts of the government. 
 
54 PERU. 
 
 Let us mention also the philanthropic institutions of the city, the hospital of San Juan 
 de Dios, a foundling hospital, a charitable institution, and an office of vaccination; and 
 we shall have completed the list of the charitable, scientific, and literary institutions of 
 the city. 
 
 Aristocracy and commerce, which in America have always lived on the best terms, 
 occupy in Arequipa the seven or eight streets which radiate from its great square 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO STREET IN AREQtIIA. 
 
 (Plaza Mayor) as a centre. This place, of which the cathedral occupies all the north 
 side, is bounded on the other sides by the commercial buildings, galleries or corridors con- 
 structed of stone with vaulted arcades, where calicoes, printed cottons, woollen stuffs, 
 and ribbons are exposed in the open air in festoons and fillets of various colours. In 
 the middle of the square is a bronze fountain with three basins, supported by moulded 
 balustrades. This hydraulic monument, which very much resembles a reel, is crowned 
 with a figure of Glory or Fame — for one cannot decide in a matter so doubtful — the 
 pose, and, above all, the emaciated look of which recalls the classic work of Houdon. 1 
 This allegorical beauty is blowing a trumpet, and looking very stubbornly in the 
 direction of the Calle de San Francisco. It has been shrewdly suggested that the 
 
 1 One of this sculptor's most celebrated studies is a figure represented without its skin (the ecorche), which images 
 with wonderful fidelity to nature the muscular structure of the human body. — Tr. 
 
ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 
 
 55 
 
 sculptor, by leaving nothing but skin and bones to this figure, and putting a trumpet 
 to its lips, meant to teach his contemporaries and future ages that glory or fame is 
 nothing but an empty phantom, an intangible breath. 
 
 It is in this square, the accustomed scene of public rejoicings, of revolutionary 
 proclamations, and of criminal executions, that for five horn's in the middle of every day 
 a market for vegetables is held. The indigenous population which flock thither from 
 all parts of the city and country, offers to the observer but two distinct types,, 
 that of the Indian of the Pacific coast, with a round countenance, flattened nose, 
 blubber lips, narrow eyes of a yellow sclerotic hue, oblique and contracted at the 
 
 TYPICAL PORTRAITS OF THE POPULATION OF A REQUI P A— QUI CHU A INDIANS. 
 
 corners like those of the Chinese and the Mongol races, 1 and the Quichua type, with an 
 oval face, high cheek-bones, a nose like an eagle's beak, oblique but well-shaped eyes, 
 abundant and soft black hair, seeming to connect them with the great Indian family 
 of the eastern Aryans. From the mixture of these two races of the coast and of the 
 Sierra there has resulted, in course of time, a goodly number of hybrids, whose 
 distinctive trait is that of stupidity and ugliness combined. 
 
 The costume of these indigenes, always of striking colours, recalls at once the 
 Spanish modes of the seventeenth century and the primitive taste of the Incas. With 
 the once fashionable coat with three square skirts, the long -flapped waistcoat, and 
 breeches ornamented at the knees {culottes a canons), the Indians wear their hair in two 
 falling plaits or tresses in the ancient Egyptian manner, and complete their toilet with 
 a loose cloak (llacolla) and sandals of undressed leather.- The women add to the 
 tucked petticoat and the round or triangular Spanish hat, the tticlla, a piece of woollen 
 stuff two feet square, which they wear on their heads like the pschent of the Sphinx, 
 
 1 The Indian of the Pacific coast descends from the Llipis, Changos, Mnquehuas, Quillcas, &c, tribes of one and the 
 same race, who once peopled the littoral between the sixteenth and twenty-fifth degree of latitude. 
 
50 
 
 PERU. 
 
 or fasten over their shoulders as a kerchief with a pin {tiqm) shaped like a spoon, 
 the use of which can be traced to the times of the first Incas. But let us leave a 
 subject which can have no interest except for ethnographers or costumiers, to consider 
 for a moment the strange effect produced, when seen from a distance and from any 
 elevated point, by the accidental mingling of striking colours perpetually in motion. 
 An adept in comparisons and figures of speech, were he by chance to look out from 
 some loophole of the cathedral spire, might without exaggeration compare the great 
 
 TYPES OP THE POPULATION OF AREQUIP A— WOMEN OF THE QUICHUA INDIANS. 
 
 square of Arequipa at market time to a prairie studded with gay but common flowers. 
 The cabbages, lettuces, and other kitchen vegetables spread on the ground may be taken 
 for the carpet of grass, upon which the garments of the men and women with their 
 predominant blue, scarlet, and yellow, stand out like corn-flowers, poppies, and dande- 
 lions fluttering in the wind. 
 
 Beyond the great square and the arterial streets branching from it, commence 
 the suburbs and their unpaved alleys, where dwell the metis or mixed caste, and the 
 small shopkeepers, impertinently called people of no account {gens de deml-poil). 
 There flourishes the whole world of small commerce, represented by sellers of groceries 
 and liquors (pulperos), dealers in fried fish, and keepers of cabarets. In Peru the 
 cabarets where chicha is sold are always kept by two or three women, relations 
 or friends. 
 
 We have already described the rustic cabarets; it remains to speak of those in 
 the city of Arequipa. These establishments, frequented only by the Indians and the 
 cholos of both sexes, are dismal and smoky dens, Avith no opening for air or light but 
 the door, encumbered with jars and pots of various forms, strewn with broken straw, 
 
I LAY TO AREQUIPA. 
 
 59 
 
 the debris of vegetables, bones, and leavings of animals, which cover the floor with 
 a thick litter. Fowls, chickens, and guinea -pigs cluck, squall, grunt, and have 
 unlimited scratching right in these diggings. Like the country cabarets these poor 
 abodes possess neither chairs, benches, nor stools, so that their customers sit on the 
 ground, holding in one hand the dish of ground pimento which serves as an incentive 
 to drink, and in the other the jug of chicha, that concoction of maize imported into 
 Peru in 1043 by the empress Mama Oello Huacco (brooding mother), the sister and 
 wife of the first Inca Manco-Capac. While the company gossip and laugh, or eat 
 
 TTPES OP AREQUIPA — A CHICHA BREWER. 
 
 and drink to their content, fresh chicha is being brewed under their eyes in a corner of 
 the cabaret by a process very simple and inexpensive. Into a hole six feet square 
 and a foot deep a certain quantity of maize has been shaken from the stalks, and 
 being slightly damped is covered with boards loaded with heavy stones. At the end 
 of eight days the heat and moisture combined have determined the germination of 
 the grain, which then takes the name of gunapo. This gunapo is taken from the hole 
 and dried in the sun, and then sent to the mill, where it is crushed small by great 
 stones without being ground. From the mill it comes back to the brewery, where the 
 women throw it into great jars full of water and make it boil for an entire day. In the 
 evening they strain the thick liquid through a cloth, which they wring by holding the 
 two ends; they then leave it to cool until the next day, when it is ready for use. 
 The dregs remaining in the cloth, called afrecho, serve to feed the pigs and poultry. 
 As for the liquor itself I know not what to say, but its colour is like the water of the 
 Seine after a thaw or a fortnight's rain. 
 
 This local brew is not drunk by the common people alone; the aristocracy of the 
 country, while ostensibly repudiating it as a vile beverage, enjoy it secretly. So our 
 
60 PERU. 
 
 white Creoles of the West Indies speak disdainfully of fried cod and pumpkins (calalou 
 de gornbauds) and Angola pease as negroes' victuals, yet all the same enjoy them in 
 private. The Peruvian bourgeoisie, more candid than the aristocracy, proclaim openly 
 their decided taste for chicha, which they designate by the elegant diminutive chichita. 
 To hear them talk, life's sweetest and best employed hours are those which are passed 
 under the shadow of the gourds in a rural cabaret between a fritter of turkeys dressed 
 with allspice and an amphora of chicha brewed the day before. 
 
 Arequipa, which modern travellers copy one another in depicting as a flourishing 
 city, enlivened by commerce and industry, by pleasures of all kinds, and by the spirit 
 and gaiety of its inhabitants, is in all these respects only the shadow of its former self. 
 Political revolutions and commercial bankruptcies have reduced the city almost to 
 poverty, and singularly cooled that verve and gaiety with which it is so often credited. 
 The town, which long rivalled Lima the king of cities in pomp and brilliancy, is at 
 the present time no more than a chrysalis inclosed in its humble cocoon awaiting the 
 transformation which the future is to bring about. Its balls, its routs, its much-vaunted 
 cavalcades, its mad orgies at the nil des Poiriers exist only as a tradition. Formerly, 
 any trifle was made a pretext for a lavish expenditure and indulgence in pleasure. 
 Now, an event of the first importance or a great solemnity is needed to unloose the 
 purse-strings of the inhabitants. Hand in hand with poverty has come economy. It 
 would be easy to prove by figures what we now assert, but to do so would be to 
 encroach on the rights of the statistician. Let us therefore confine ourselves to the 
 mere statement of the decaying condition of Arequipa, a setting star which optimist 
 travellers, or those barely acquainted with the facts, have taken for a star in its zenith. 
 
 Further, in order to efface the melancholy impression with which our revelations in 
 respect to the commercial, industrial, and financial position of this town are calculated 
 to impress the minds of our readers, we will describe one of the annual festivities, 
 when Arequipa, forgetting for a while its habits of calculation and economy, borrows 
 for a few hours its ancient mask of folly, and, as in the days of its splendour, scatters 
 gold by the handful, certain to regret it on the morrow. 
 
 This solemnity is that of Shrove-Tuesday, in which hens' eggs play so great a part 
 that we feel constrained to devote a parenthesis to the fact. The mathematicians of 
 the country who pass their time in counting the A's, B's and C's repeated in the Old 
 and New Testaments, have calculated that on Shrove-Tuesday 800,000 francs are spent 
 in Arequipa on eggs, an amount the more extravagant considering that the edible por- 
 tion of the eggs has long since disappeared, the shells only remaining. It is of these 
 shells that the religious communities and the greater number of housewives make so 
 good a thing. To do this, they are careful during the whole year to break the eggs, of 
 which the consumption is enormous in Spanish American kitchens, at one end only, 
 and being thus emptied, the shells are carefully preserved in a heap. The week which 
 precedes Carnestolendas is occupied in preparing them. Three women unite in this 
 employment : one of them dilutes in a tubful of water some gamboge, indigo, or 
 carmine, the second fills the egg-shells with this tincture, whilst the third closes the 
 opening by means of little squares of cloth fastened with a liquefied wax which con- 
 
ILAY TO AREQUIPA. G3 
 
 geals immediately. Thus prepared, these shells are offered for sale at the price of one 
 cuartillo, and even half a real each. Basketfuls of them are exposed at the corners 
 of every street, so that those who engage in the sport can provide themselves with 
 ammunition without difficulty. 
 
 Hardly have the gates of heaven been opened on the morning of Shrove-Tuesday, 
 when the two sexes clothe themselves in white from head to foot. Those who are first 
 up hasten to the bedside of those still asleep to give them the matutinal accolade, which 
 consists, on that day, in the application of three or four eggs of various colours broken 
 on the face of the sleeper, who is immediately sprinkled with flour. The unlucky 
 victim removes his pasty mask as he can, clothes himself in his turn with the white 
 armour of the combat, and supplied with eggs and flour revenges on all around 
 him the affront he has received. The morning is employed in these skirmishes; all 
 alike, the masters in the parlour, the servants in the kitchen, are engaged in bombai'ding 
 and flouring each other, to the best of their ability. Neither old age nor infancy are 
 excepted from these saturnalias. The egg of Shrove-Tuesday, like the satire of Jean 
 Racine, knows neither sex nor age. His illustrious highness the bishop himself, 
 the autocrat of Spanish towns, is rolled in flour from morn to eve of Carnesto- 
 lendas. 
 
 This memorable day is almost the only one of the year on which the balconies of 
 the houses are opened. After mid-day a battery of syringes is established in each, 
 and the inmates mutually flood each other with water, to the music of the flying eggs 
 and the papers of starch-powder which describe white trajectories in the air. The 
 excitement increases with every succeeding hour. Whilst the aristocracy continue the 
 combat from their housetops and balconies, the bourgeoisie, too much cooped up in their 
 homes, rush about outside like a torrent breaking through its banks. Men and women 
 going in couples and furnished with umbrellas to protect them against the showers from 
 the balconies, traverse the town to the music of guitars, and, over-excited by copious 
 libations, accompany their cries and refrains with the most extravagant grimaces and 
 contortions. This crowd, which one might suppose to be struck with epilepsy, yells 
 and struggles as one man. About three in the afternoon, Arequipa is one immense 
 mouth, from which escapes a continuous roar. 
 
 At this moment troops of horses, decayed, one-eyed, foundered, dropsical, con- 
 sumptive, are brought from the Pampilla, a desert situated to the north of the city, 
 and offered for sale on the Plaza Mayor. There those who want them have them. 
 The price of these Shrove-Tuesday coursers varies from five to twelve francs, according 
 to their degree of vitality. In the twinkling of an eye detachments of cavalry are 
 organized to besiege the enemy in the balconies whose liquid artillery has caused the 
 greatest ravages amongst the crowd. Each cavalier having mounted his jade, takes on 
 his arm a basketful of eggs, which active boys are commissioned to fill again when they 
 are emptied. Then the detachment posts itself before the balcony specified, which is 
 habitually defended by persons of the gentler sex. These armed with pumps and 
 syringes, boldly sustain the assault; to the eggs of the enemy they oppose torrents of 
 water more or less limpid. The combat often lasts more than an hour without victory 
 
64 
 
 PERU. 
 
 declaring for either of the combatants. The men drenched like Tritons, the women 
 dishevelled like Bacchantes, rival each other in the hardihood and fury with which they 
 hurl defiant epithets one against another, in the true Homeric style. In the heat of the 
 engagement a piercing shriek, issuing from the besieged balcony, rings like the note of a 
 fife in a charivari. This cry, received by the men with a general roar of laughter, 
 comes from some Marfisa, who has been struck in the eye, or otherwise hurt by a pink 
 or blue egg thrown by a vigorous hand, and who falls temporarily into the arms of her 
 companions. This victim of Shrove-Tuesday is conveyed to a safe distance from the 
 
 I 
 
 
 ENVIRONS OP AREQDIPA— CHOLO OP TINGO. 
 
 ENVIRONS OP AREQUIPA — CHOLA OF TIABAYA. 
 
 field of battle, and the action, suspended for a moment, is recommenced. But as our 
 Amazons have now to deplore the defeat of a sister and to avenge her hurt, it is not 
 with a gentle shower that they reply to the enemy, but with flower-pots and broken 
 fragments of plates, indeed anything that comes to hand. Under this shower of 
 hardware, which wounds all it touches, and of one-eyed horses makes so many blind 
 ones, the dismayed warriors disband themselves and go to besiege another balcony. 
 
 In the villages near Arecpiipa the carnival is carried on in a different manner. 
 At Paucarpata, at Tingo, at Sabandia, bands of men and women, whose drunken- 
 ness amounts almost to fury, traverse the country dishevelled and foaming, yelling 
 Carnavo in the manner of Evohe, and driving before them the leanest ass they can 
 procure; any individual they may meet, of whatever age or sex, is taken possession of 
 bodily, despoiled of his clothes, perched on the angular back-bone of this Al-borak, and 
 driven across the country for an hour. A pot of water occasionally emptied on the 
 shoulders of the victim, combine for him the luxuries of the bath with the pleasures 
 of the promenade. 
 
 The natives of Sachaca and of Tiabaya celebrate Shrove-Tuesday perhaps in a less 
 
ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 65 
 
 ridiculous, though, oil the other hand, in a more warlike manner. After having 
 despoiled the apples and wild fig-trees of their green fruit, they fill baskets with them, 
 which they carry on their arms, and scatter themselves along the pathways in quest of 
 adventures. The first face they see serves as a target at which to aim their projectiles. 
 At these times timid people who are terrified at the idea of a wound remain shut up in 
 their dwellings. Those whose curiosity leads them to cross their threshold to see what 
 is going on out of doors, receive in their eye, and at the moment they least expect it, 
 some green fruit the size of a fist. The next day the greater part of the inhabitants of 
 these localities are enveloped about the head with bandages. When they are ques- 
 tioned on the subject, they answer that, while perhaps getting a little mauled, they have 
 so amused themselves that the pain they feel is nothing compared to their enjoyment 
 of the sport. 
 
 In town and village the first stroke of the bell of the evening angelus brings these 
 street orgies to an end. The Shrove-Tuesday revellers all take refuge in their houses, 
 where, with hair disordered and clothes soiled, they continue to drink, to yell, and to 
 fight until daybreak of Ash-Wednesday. At that hour each one hastily doffs his absurd 
 disguise, washes his face and hands, combs his hair a little, and runs to kneel at the 
 feet of a monk, his partner of the evening before, who, after having marked him on the 
 forehead with a gray cross, recalling to him the fact that he is but dust, sends him 
 about his business duly absolved of his folly. 
 
 A chapter on the Mysteries of Arequipa, if we consented to write it, would offer 
 details as piquant and as full of interest even as the Mysteries of Paris and of London. 
 But for one fraction of the European public who might thank us for raising the veil 
 which hides the sores and turpitudes of a society on which weigh heavily the example 
 of past corruption, the population of both sexes of Arequipa would rise en masse to 
 throw the stone at their accuser. We will therefore limit ourselves to this ethno- 
 graphical notice, which completes the good or evil information furnished up to this day 
 by geographers, travellers, and tourists, respecting the city of Pedro Anzurez de Campo 
 Kedondo. Further, as our baggage, already made up, has been placed on the backs of 
 the baggage mules, and our arriero is impatient to start, we will close the door of our 
 lodging, return the key to our hostess, mount our animals, and following the cordilleras 
 we will continue our journey across the American continent. 
 
SECOND STAGE. 
 
 AREQUIPA TO LAMPA 
 
 (PERU). 
 
GENERAL VIEW OF THE PAMPILLA. 
 
 SECOND STAGE, 
 
 AKEQUIPA TO LAMPA, 
 
 The Pampilla and its charcoal-burners. — Station of Apo. — What the traveller finds, and what he experiences on 
 arriving there. — The soroche. — Occasional gossips en route. — Disappointment at Huallata. — A storm 15,000 feet above 
 the sea. — Hospitality in a sepulchre. — Retrospective coup-d'ceil of the Aymara nation. — The Lake of Gold and Lake 
 of Silver. — Elegy on a rooster. — A night at Compuerta. — The landscape and other things worth observing. — 
 Cabana and Cabanilla. — A priest, according to the gospel. — About a giant humming-bird and yellow Ranunculi. — 
 Aspect of Lampa at nightfall. — An importer of printed cottons (rouoineries). — Manner of honouring the saints. — 
 Effect produced on the organs of vision by the sharp application of a bit of foie de volaille. — The strawberry of Chili, 
 and its use as a stimulant. — The day after a revel. — The author resumes his journey, reflecting on the past history 
 and the present state of the province of Lampa. 
 
 Northward of the city of Arequipa, at the extremity of its suburb of Sau Isidro, 
 renowned for its drinkmg-places, extends a desert of sand called the Pampilla. 
 The Indian charcoal-burners, who pass to and fro between the mountain and the 
 valley, have made this place their camping -ground and erected their huts on it. 
 One might take them for a band of gipsies encamped at the gates of the city, and 
 the more so, because in respect to their idiom, 1 their clothing, and their hah', like 
 
 1 They speak only Quichua, but they understand Spanish. The first of these idioms, which M. Huot, who con- 
 tinued the Annales of Malte-Brun, informs us was the idiom of gallantry and good society at Lima, is not only 
 unused, but is depreciated and turned into ridicule, like all else that relates to the manners and customs of the 
 Sierra. It would not be possible to find five persons either at Lima, Arequipa, or any other city of the coast, 
 moving in good society, able to understand, much less to speak, Quichua, unless they were originally from the 
 Sierra, which they would not care to avow after some years' residence on the coast, but which one discovers without 
 difficulty from their guttural accent and their bad pronunciation of the Spanish. 
 
7o PERU. 
 
 horse-tails, which gives them a wild aspect, these Indians differ entirely from the 
 mixed caste of Areqnipa, with which they always hold some transient relation of a 
 business character. 
 
 A half hour's march at the ordinary pace of a mule sufficed to traverse this 
 desert, at the end of which commenced a zig-zag road leading to the heights. 
 After a slow and troublesome ascent, which afforded time to study the configuration 
 of the volcano (Misti) and the aerial perspective of the villages and cultivated grounds 
 of the valley of Arequipa, we reached the tampu of Cangallo, 10,554 feet above the 
 sea; higher still, 3046 feet, we came to a heap of bones of horses and mules, known 
 in the country by the name of El Alto de los Huesos, and at length arrived, bent 
 with fatigue, with our faces blue from the effects of the air and cold, at the station 
 of Apo, the first halting-place of the Sierra Nevada. 
 
 Here the traveller who stops to pass the night and rest his beasts may admire 
 at leisure the beauties of a hyperborean landscape. Looking northward, the ground 
 is concealed by hard snow, the silent streams sleep under the ice, the waterfalls are 
 only a confused mass of stalactites, the crystals of which taper off at their lower end. 
 From the north-east to the north-west the snowy peaks of the Andes hover round 
 the horizon like white phantoms. The thermometer marked from twenty-one to twenty- 
 five degrees below the freezing-point (Fah). 
 
 This station of Apo, at which I arrived about nightfall, resembles all establish- 
 ments of the kind in Peru, which are nothing but huts, of greater or less size, 
 divided into two or three apartments, and more or less dilapidated according to 
 their remoteness from civilized places. A square space, sub Jove crudo, inclosed by 
 stones piled on one another, serves as stabling for the horses and mules. As for the 
 travellers themselves, they have to manage as well as they can in one of the com- 
 partments of the hut, sleeping on the bare ground if they have neglected to provide 
 themselves with a mattress or a sheep-skin, shivering with cold all the night, and 
 rising as early as possible to fly to the fresh torture which awaits them at the suc- 
 ceeding post. 
 
 On awaking in the morning after having fulfilled the conditions of this pro- 
 gramme, I entreated the arriero, who had accompanied me, and who had been my 
 chamber comrade, to saddle our beasts without delay. While he obeyed my orders 
 with the nonchalant activity of his profession, I went into the kitchen of the estab- 
 lishment, where a little fire of llama's dung (takia) was burning, to prepare for 
 myself the cup of chocolate which invariably composes the breakfast of the traveller 
 who crosses the Andes. Nor Medina, my muleteer, finished his task as I swallowed 
 the last mouthful of my beverage. We had only to settle our accounts with the 
 postillions, and to get into the saddle. The sun had risen in a serene sky; the day 
 promised to be a magnificent one. We urged on our mules, and soon left the post 
 of Apo far behind us. 
 
 At the end of an hour's march, during which we had ascended some hundreds 
 of yards, I began to feel a general uneasiness, which I attributed to the insufficiency 
 of the atmospheric pressure. This phenomenon, which the Quichuas of the moun- 
 
NPI. 
 
 SarAolam ■ --. i_ 
 
 . 
 
AREQUIPA TO LAMPA. 71 
 
 tain heights call the soroche, and from which they do not themselves suffer — having 
 lungs one-third larger than those of the European — is attributed by them to some 
 mcphytic gas produced by antimony — in Quichua soroche — even in places where that 
 metal does not exist. A contraction of the diaphragm, a dull pain in the dorsal 
 region, shootings in the head, nausea and giddiness, sometimes followed by faint- 
 ing, are the symptoms of this singular malady. I, however, did not suffer to that 
 
 PART OF THE PAMPILLA OR SANDY DESERT NEAR AREQUITA. 
 
 degree. Nor Medina, to avert what my livid countenance and my efforts to keep 
 in the saddle betrayed I was suffering, gave me a clove of garlic, and advised 
 me to chew it as I would a sugar-plum. I obeyed, but not without grinding 
 my teeth. This antidote, which my Esculapius pretended to be a specific against 
 the soroche, not having produced any effect, he advised me to make my nose bleed 
 by striking it with my fist, which he said would give me instant relief. This 
 I thought too heroic a remedy, and preferred to crunch another clove of garlic, 
 notwithstanding the very slight fancy I had for the smell and taste of that species 
 of the Liliaceee. 
 
 About twenty minutes elapsed, and whether it was that the remedy began to 
 operate, or whether my lungs became accustomed by degrees to the ratified air, 
 
72 PERU. 
 
 I began to feel better. Soon I was able to talk with my companion about the road 
 he had taken to reach Cuzco, the route that I had marked out deviating from the 
 direct line and from the stages which divided it so unequally. The man enumerated 
 the various posts between Arequipa and Cuzco, calculated their respective distances, 
 and concluded by assuring me that the Lampa road which I had chosen in preference 
 to the common route, known in the country as the Carrera real de los Andes, 
 possessed the disadvantage of seven fewer stations and eighty more miles of road, 
 which meant, in other words, that after a hard day's work across a difficult country, 
 the elevation of which varied from 10,000 to 18,000 feet, we should find no other 
 shelter than a shepherd's miserable x>ascMna} where we should be compelled to sleep 
 on the floor, with scarcely room enough to stretch our legs. He ended by asking 
 why I chose to go so far about to obtain my end, when it would have been natural 
 to prefer the straight line and the common road? I told him that as I was about 
 to quit the country never to return, I did not mind lengthening my journey by 
 a few leagues for the purpose of visiting a priest, whom I had heard had been 
 very skilful in cross-breeding certain species of the Camelidse. The arriero looked at 
 me with great astonished eyes. 
 
 "Is it the cure 1 Cabrera that monsieur means?" he asked. 
 
 " Precisely," said I. " That worthy priest, formerly curate of Macusani in the 
 province of Carabaya, and now domiciled at Cabana, in the province of Lampa." 
 
 " And monsieur will go eighty miles to see an old man who, people say, is 
 a little cracked!" 
 
 " My good fellow," I replied to Nor Medina, " he of whom you speak so lightly 
 is one of those men to whom, in my country, they would long since have erected 
 a statue of bronze, as to a benefactor of the human race. I cannot therefore regret 
 a journey of eighty miles to shake hands with him, especially as I shall easily 
 recover the lost time by shortening my stay at Cuzco." 
 
 " As monsieur pleases," said the muleteer. " A curious idea," he added in a 
 lower tone, yet not so low that I did not hear the remark, though I thought it 
 best to make no reply. 
 
 We continued to push our way through the snows, my companion pinching his 
 nose to warm it, and I breathing on my fingers to prevent them from being numbed. 
 In vain the grandeur of the horizon, the sparkling blue of the heavens, and the 
 sense of liberty which one respires with the air on mountain heights, gave to the 
 landscape I know not what of greatness and sublimity, so calculated to elevate 
 the soul and command enthusiasm. The coldness of the temperature rendered all 
 such emotion impossible to me. To this grand book of earth and heaven opened 
 before my eyes I would have preferred a close chamber and the warmth of a stove. 
 
 The day passed without a single living thing having presented itself except some 
 vultures hovering high in the air, or some vicugnas (a species of llama) on the 
 mountain slopes. At five o'clock we discovered, hidden in the rocks, the station 
 of Pachaca. where I proposed to pass the night. But it is above all when travelling 
 
 1 From the Quichua verb pascani, to feed or pasture. 
 
AREQUIPA TO LAMPA. 
 
 73 
 
 that "man proposes and God disposes;" the station Mas shut and silent, and notwith- 
 standing the outcry we made to announce our arrival no postillion in the national 
 head-band appeared to receive us. We were thus compelled to make two stages, and 
 pushing on to Huallata we arrived there at nine o'clock in the evening. 
 
 Built upon a solitary mamelon surrounded with snows and precipices, besieged 
 by every wind, battered by every tempest, often shrouded in frosty mists, this station 
 of Huallata is one of the most fearful sites in the whole chain of the Andes, from 
 the Tierra del Fuego to the equator. Five times the chances of my life had led 
 me to this wild spot, and each time I regretted that I had not, like Joshua, the power 
 to arrest the sun, in order to prolong the day, and to proceed further. 
 
 A POSTING STATION, OR TRAVELLER'S HALTING-PLACE, IK THE SIERRA NEVADA. 
 
 The sensation that I now experienced was less disagreeable than formerly. Fatigue, 
 hunger, and above all, the dread of passing the night under the stars, had disposed 
 me to look at the bright side of things. The welcome of the postillions completed the 
 satisfaction with which I submitted to circumstances. When I had supped on my 
 cup of chocolate and toasted bread I entered the apartment kept for travellers, 
 and commenced my nightly toilet, whilst Nor Medina did his best to stop the holes 
 and cracks in the walls. A fire of llama's dung was kindled in the centre of 
 the apartment, and an Indian, for a small remuneration, undertook to watch it, 
 while chattering to himself, during the night. Thanks to the vigilance of our vestal 
 in drawers, we enjoyed a sufficiently pleasant temperature. On the morrow we 
 emitted the station of Huallata suffering from one of those colds which circle the 
 forehead with a band of iron and provoke an abundant secretion of the lachrymal 
 glands; and leaving on our left the road to Cuzco, marched in the direction of the 
 rising sun. After having descended a succession of rapid slopes we came to the 
 great plain called the Pampa de los Gon/ites (Sugar-plum Pampas), on account of 
 
 10 
 
74 PERU. 
 
 the ground being strewn with little pebbles rounded by the action of the primitive 
 waters. This plain, which we crossed in two hours, is bounded, from north-east 
 to south-east, by an entanglement of trachytic peaks, rough, sharp, and disordered. 
 Under the snow which partly covers them were discernible long bands of yellow, 
 black, and red, which produced by contrast a singular effect. Had a painter trans- 
 ferred such a scene to his canvas no doubt the critic would have laughed in his 
 face in virtue of that axiom so euphonically formulated by Boileau: " Le vrai peut 
 quelquefois n'etre pas vraisemblable " — The truth may sometimes not be like truth. 
 
 It is possible to cross the chain of the Andes in any season, since I have 
 made the journey some thirty or forty times at various points, and at different 
 periods of the year. Still the most favourable times are the months of April and 
 September. In April the snow has not yet fallen, and only appears in the regions 
 where it is eternal. In September the fallen snow, which from June to August covers 
 the roads, is already melted, and having flooded the torrents and rivers, is bearing 
 away its annual tribute to the two oceans. 
 
 As it was now July, that is to say, the depth of winter, Ave were in danger of 
 being surprised by one of those tempests which generally burst in the afternoon, unless 
 the heavens — and this was little probable — should show themselves merciful, on our 
 account, for a day or two. At this moment we were traversing a stony and jagged 
 region where, had I relied on my own topographical knowledge, I should most 
 certainly have lost my way; but Nor Medina was an experienced pilot, and the 
 manner in which he manoeuvred to pass the ravines and quagmires banished all 
 fear from my spirit. In narrow and perilous passages he went on before without 
 speaking, and I, following him, imitated his silence. "When the breadth of the 
 way permitted us to keep side by side we charmed away the ennui of the journey 
 by talking, not of love and war, like La Mole aud the Count de Coconnas, but of 
 the probability of finding at the end of the day an hospitable cabin and something 
 to eat, 
 
 Two hours had passed when some bulging white clouds of the kind which sailors 
 call " cotton -balls," and the learned cirro-cumuli, appeared floating in the air like 
 a flock of doves. In a few instants these clouds increased, closed up their ranks, 
 and at last quite hid the face of the sun. A storm was brewing. We looked 
 round for some kind of shelter, but all was desolation. Even the mountains presented 
 no grotto or crevice in which we could take refuge. Then we hurried on our 
 mules, scarcely knowing in what direction to continue our forced march, moved 
 solely by that apprehension of danger, and the need of escaping from it, common 
 to all living creatures. At the moment when our fast trot had increased to a gallop, 
 the wind began to blow in sudden gusts, so that the clouds were heaped together 
 like floating ice on the breaking up of a river, and grew dark in our faces. Lightning 
 and thunder immediately joining the melee warned us that the storm was near, 
 and had the feet of our beasts been gifted with the swiftness of Achilles they would 
 have tried in vain to outstrip it in speed. 
 
 Nevertheless we continued to flee before the tempest, now and then raising our 
 
AREQUIPA TO LAM PA. 
 
 75 
 
 heads to judge of the state of the atmosphere, but again burying them almost 
 immediately in the immense wrapper called a tapacara, which everyone is obliged 
 to wear in these latitudes. Meanwhile the distant rumblings of the thunder succeeded 
 at more frequent intervals, the lightning traced lines of fire in the heavens, the 
 clouds sinking by their own weight, approached rapidly towards the earth, and a livid 
 light illuminated the landscape, which stood out in bold relief against the deep neutral 
 tint of the horizon. 
 
 HOSPITALITY OF A SEPULCHRE. 
 
 A sudden thunder-clap filled us with fear and made our mules tremble upon 
 their hocks. The clouds bulged like overfilled leathern bottles, and a shower of hail- 
 stones beat upon our heads. To protect ourselves as much as possible we huddled up 
 in our cloaks; our unhappy beasts, unable to follow our example, whined with the 
 pain caused by the rough contact of the projectiles with their poor noses. We quite 
 pitied their condition, and did all we could to excite them by voice, spur, and bridle. 
 The hailstorm was succeeded by a fall of snow, such as one never witnesses but 
 at this elevation. It fell so fast and thick that it was impossible to see ten steps 
 in advance. In an instant the whole landscape was wrapped in one great winding- 
 sheet; the mules profited by the stupefaction we felt to slacken their pace and 
 proceed to their own liking. We had thus felt our way for a quarter of an hour, 
 when a dark mass seemed to cross the moving curtain of snow. "God be praised!" 
 
76 PERU. 
 
 exclaimed Nor Medina, drawing rein by the side of this construction, of which 1 
 could not yet divine the character. As I approached he cried out to me to dismount. 
 I obeyed Avith the more promptitude seeing that the door of this lodge was wide 
 open, only it was so low, that to enter I was obliged to go on my knees. In the 
 meanwhile Nor Medina relieved the mules of their harness, which he covered with 
 a waxed cloth (or oil-skin), and gliding through the cat's hole very soon rejoined 
 me. The snow continued to fall like pressed wool. 
 
 The shelter we had found so opportunely was an edifice formed of enormous 
 blocks, and covei'ed in with a single stone. A little window looking eastward, at about 
 a man's height, scarcely lighted the interior. This sepulchre, for such it was, might 
 measure ten feet on each side by eight feet in height. Its walls, sloped in the Egyptian 
 manner, and of tremendous thickness, had probably seen many centuries and endured 
 many tempests. I asked my guide what he thought of this sepulchre, and if any 
 tradition attached to it, But the snow which had soaked through the man's clothes 
 had dried up his habitual loquacity; he replied with a yawn, "It was the work of 
 the heathen Aymaras." I ought to have been satisfied with this reply; but reflecting 
 that it might happen to me, as to so many others, to tell a traveller's story to the 
 public, and reflecting further that the public would not be satisfied with Nor Medina's 
 laconic explanation, I used my flint and steel, lighted a bit of wax-candle, and 
 wrote the following lines: — 
 
 " When the Children of the Sun first appeared in Peru, the great Aymara nation 
 possessed the country which extends from Lampa to the frontiers of Desaguadero, 
 and comprises under the name of Collao the region of the Punas, or plateaux 
 situated eastward of the chain of the Western Andes. In various parts of this country, 
 which is some 270 miles in length and of an average breadth of 90 miles, were 
 temples, palaces, and monuments of various kinds, some intact, some already in 
 ruins, the architecture' and statuary of which bore witness to an advanced state of 
 civilization. The Aymaras, who ascribed to these constructions a very remote date, 
 attributed them to the Collahuas, whose descendents they boasted themselves to be. 
 According to them, that nation had come from a far-distant country, situated to the 
 north of Peru, and had occupied different places for a long period before advancing 
 to the region of the Peruvian plateaux, which in memory of them had since borne 
 the name of Collao. These ancestors of the Aymaras, so to speak of them, believed, 
 according to hieroglyphic pictures, of which their chiefs alone possessed the secret, 
 that previous to the sun which gave them light there had been four others which 
 were successively extinguished by a flood, an earthquake, a general break up, and a 
 great tempest which annihilated at the same time all created beings. After the 
 disappearance of the fourth sun the world had been immersed in darkness for twenty- 
 five years. In the midst of that profound night, and ten years before the appearance 
 of a fifth sun, the human race was regenerated. The great Creator, when he formed 
 anew a man and a woman, created also this fifth sun, which had lasted already a 
 thousand years. This astrological fiction, which the Aymaras derived from the 
 Collahuas and which has served as the basis of a particular system of cosmogony, 
 
AREQUIPA TO LAMPA 77 
 
 was common to the whole group of peoples speaking the same language: the Toltecs, 
 the Cieimecs, the Nahuatlaques, the Acolhues, the Tlascaltecs, the Aztecs, &c., who, 
 about the beginning of our era, inhabited the country of Anahuac in New Spain. 
 These peoples are said to have received their civilization, their architecture, their 
 quipos, 1 and their hieroglyphics from the Olmecs and the Xicalanques, two powerful 
 nations who preceded them, and who themselves boasted of their high antiquity. 
 
 "To return to our Aymaras. The establishment of the Incas in Peru, as it caused 
 a displacement of most of the Andean nations, so it dispossessed this people of 
 the country which it had so long occupied. In the time of the second emperor, 
 Sinchi-Poca, it had abandoned the Condesuyos* of Cuzco, and had withdrawn more 
 and more westward to escape from the domination of the Children of the Sun. 
 The third Inca, Lloque-Yupanqui, carried his arms into that part of Collao of which 
 the Lake of Titicaca and its monuments are the historic centre. Occupied in sub- 
 jugating the Aymaras established in the south, he left in peace such of them as lived 
 to the west. Mayta-Capac, his successor, attacked them at two opposite points of 
 their territory. Having subdued the Aymaras of Tiahuanacu in Upper Peru, he 
 marched against those of Parihuanacocha (the Flamingo lake), situated almost under 
 the fifteenth degree, and they also fell under subjection to him. 
 
 "This circle of conquests, successively enlarged by each emperor, and touching at 
 the several points indicated above, had pushed towards the coast of the Pacific 
 the Aymaras who were still free. Some families of that nation were stopped from 
 advancing beyond the entrance of the western valleys, where their relics are still 
 found. 3 Others were driven as far as the sea, where they mixed with the fish -eating 
 tribes who at that epoch inhabited the shores of the ocean between the fourteenth and 
 the twenty-fourth degrees of latitude. 4 In the fifteenth century, the conquests of the 
 Inca Capac-Yupanqui extending even to Chili, and causing the almost total extinction 
 of these peoples, the Aymaras disappeared with them from the littoral; only those 
 individuals of that nation who had previously bent under the yoke of the Incas con- 
 tinued to occupy in the Sierra a part of the ancient territory of their fathers. At 
 present we count about 200,000 of these indigenes spread along the Bolivia-Peruvian 
 frontier, and in the seven departments of Higher Peru. 
 
 "Among the ancient customs of that nation, a custom, so singular that it may assist 
 the ethnographer to recover the traces of its passage across the two continents, was 
 that of deforming the skull at birth, giving it a conical form, by means of boards 
 padded with cotton and compressed by ligatures. The skeletons of Aymaras, found 
 
 1 The qtiipos, or strands of coloured wool, which the Peruvians used to record their dates and traditions, was not 
 invented by them, as so long supposed. It was used by the Canadians, and was known to the Chinese at a very remote 
 period. It was also used by the nations of Mexico, referred to in the text, by whom it was called nepolmaltzitzin. 
 (See Bottitrini.) 
 
 2 From the Quiehua cunti (west) and suyu (direction): one of the four divisions of the empire established by 
 Manco-Capac. 
 
 3 The Aymara ossuary, the existence of which we are the first to make known, is situated at the distance of a few 
 miles S.S.E. of Hay, in the midst of the zone of traehytic ashes, which extends from that port to the entrance of the 
 valley of Tambo, called the Arenal. 
 
 4 The Quellcas (now Quilcas), the Moquehuas, the Llipis, and the Chancus (now Changos). 
 
78 
 
 PERU. 
 
 in the neighbourhood of the coast between the sixteenth and eighteenth degrees, are 
 perfectly recognizable by their oblong or egg-shaped heads. An egg, of which one end 
 should form the face, would give an exact idea of their shape. 
 
 "The mode of burial practised by these Indians, at the epoch of their splendour, 
 was also very strange, and unlike anything found among the nations of South America. 
 
 INTERIOR OP AN AYSIARA CHULPA. 
 
 Their tombs, called chulpas, have the shape of a truncated pyramid of from twenty 
 to thirty feet high. This pyramid, constructed of unbaked bricks (tapias), was formed 
 in several retreating courses, recalling by its general configuration the Mexican 
 teocallis, the first idea of which would seem to have been borrowed from the temple 
 of Bel. Sometimes the tombs of the Aymaras were simple monuments of Cyclopean 
 structure covered with a single stone, and forming, in the interior, a square chamber — 
 such as that wherein I write these lines — with a low entrance, and a little window 
 looking to the rising sun. Sometimes, again, these tombs took the form of an obelisk, 
 the elevation of which, from twenty-five to thirty feet, was twice the dimensions 
 of their base. These were covered with an inclined roof, and built of mud. Each 
 tomb of the kind was adapted for the reception of a dozen individuals, whose bodies, 
 embalmed with the Chenopoiliiun arnhnmoiilcs of the neighbouring valleys, and clothed in 
 their own garments or wrapped in a sack woven with the leaves of the totora. and sloped 
 
AREQUIPA TO LA MP A. 
 
 79 
 
 oft* to let the face appear, were seated in a circle, their feet touching one another, 
 resembling the felly of a wheel. Each of the dead had near him, under the pretence 
 of provisions and household utensils, some spikes of maize, a jug of chicha, a bowl, 
 and a spoon. If it was a man, they added to these objects a sling, a macana or club, 
 hunting or fishing implements, and a weft of wool. If a woman, they placed near 
 her a basket made of the stalks of jarava, some balls of llama's wool, and a few 
 shuttles and knitting-needles made of the long black thorns of the Cactus quisco. 1 
 When once this tomb was in possession of the number of guests it was meant to 
 
 AY MARA INDIAN MCMHT. 
 
 contain it was closed up, the window alone being left open, probably with the idea 
 that passers-by might look in and perhaps derive instruction and consolation from 
 
 1 In the hillocks of Cocotea, of Tambo, aud of Mejillones, in the neighbourhood of Iquique, in the Jforro of Arica, 
 aud other places near the coast, are mauy huacas or burial-places of Chango, Ayniara, and Quichua Indians, dating from 
 a period anterior to the Spanish conquest, in which we tind objects of the same nature. The nationality of the 
 mummies is apparent at first sight, both from the construction of the huacas in which they are found, and from the 
 position of the bodies. Thus, the huacas of the Changos are as much as eight feet high inside, and the dead are laid 
 upon their backs. Those of the Aymaras are circular cavities, at the bottom of which the corpse, wrapped in a woollen 
 mantle, a mat, or a sack made of rushes, is simply seated. The huacas of the Quichuas, which are scarcely four feet 
 high, are of an ellipsoidal figure, and liued in the interior with small flat stones. The corpse is placed like a child in 
 its mother's womb ; that is to say, squatting upon its heels, its knees raised to the level of the chin, its elbows resting upon 
 the thighs, and its fingers doubled up against the eyes. 
 
 The garments and the woollen tissues which envelop these mummies, as well as the articles placed near them, are 
 in all cases very much alike, aud are coarsely made. In most of the huacas we have found spikes of maize, and what 
 was once chicha. The grain had become the colour of old mahogany, but it preserved its gloss. The little chicha that 
 remained at the bottom of the cantaros, made of baked clay and hermetically sealed, had acquired the colour and con- 
 sistency of treacle. 
 
80 PERU. 
 
 the calm spectacle of the dead, seated side by side, and, so to speak, regarding each 
 other with hollow eyes. Every morning the rising sun darted a golden ray into the 
 interior of these sepulchres, and warmed for a moment, without reanimating, the 
 yellow parchments which once were men. Some of these chulpas exist still, but 
 empty and desecrated. French, English, Germans, have -with one accord broken 
 into these monuments, and the mummies which they inclose, disturbed from the 
 rest of ages, have been transported into the museums of Europe, where they grin in 
 some glazed show-case awaiting the day of resurrection " 
 
 As I finished writing the last word, Nor Medina, who had kept his eye on the 
 weather, told me the snow had ceased falling, and that it was necessary to resume our 
 journey. It was four o'clock. We went to mount our beasts, whose manes, stiffened 
 with frost, recall to mind the horses of Odin Hrimfaxi and Skinfaxi with frozen hair. 
 The poor beasts had not moved from the spot where we left them. My guide patted 
 their flanks to console them for the wretched quarter of an hour they had passed. 
 Then, having saddled and bridled them, we were soon far from the Aymara sepulchre. 
 
 After an hour's march I discovered on my right, hidden by the undulations of the 
 ground, a pretty river winding its joyful way among the rocks which it fringed with 
 a border of foam. I pointed it out to Nor Medina, who told me it was the same 
 thread of water that I had seen bubbling from the hollow of a rock near the station 
 of Apo. A course of sixty miles in the midst of the snows of the Sierra had worked 
 this prodigy. "So are born and so grow societies and empires," said I to my guide; 
 Avho smiled his approbation. 
 
 The road we were following presently wound along by the river, so that we kept 
 close to its banks. In places destitute of stones, it spread its water deliciously over a 
 bed of quartzose sand, so white, so fine, so pleasant to the eye, that for a moment I 
 Mas tempted to dismount, to take off my shoes, and wade in it to the unknown gulf 
 into which it flowed. The day however, which already drew near its end, prevented me 
 from giving effect to this idea. I contented myself with dipping into it, by the aid of 
 a bit of pack-thread, the tin pot which when travelling served me at once for a glass, a 
 bowl, and a cup, and I drank some draughts of its limpid and icy water. 
 
 As there was no station in the neighbourhood, nor eveu a shepherd's hut, where we 
 could pass the night, and as the hamlet of Compuerta — the only inhabited place, as 
 my guide said — was still some leagues distant, we urged our beasts to a lively pace. 
 The storm of the afternoon had cleared off, and left no trace in the heavens. Nothing 
 stained the immense vault of azure, save that the setting sun tinged it with an orange 
 purple. Proceeding on our road we came to a lagune, something less than a mile in 
 circumference, on the borders of which grew large-leaved totoras {Juncus peruvianas). 
 That " drop of limpid water which glassed the heavens," as the poet says, served as the 
 home of several kinds of aquatic birds, such as grebes, divers {Colymb'uhe), and teals, 
 which sported and quacked at each other as they prepared for rest. A sluice at the 
 outlet of this basin allowed its surplus water to flow into a ravine which communicated 
 with the river. Two hundred paces from this lagune I discovered another exactly like 
 it, but situated upon the right bank of the watercourse which we were following. Nor 
 
AREQUIPA TO LAMPA. 
 
 81 
 
 Medina was particular in explaining to me that beyond these two lagunes — the first of 
 which was called the Lake of Gold (Coricocha), and the second the Lake of Silver 
 (Colquecocha) — the river, which we had seen to take its rise at Apo, and which even 
 then was called the Rio do Cuevilla, took the name of the Rio de Compuerta. I noted 
 the fact, and just as I questioned the man if the hamlet of Compuerta was yet far 
 distant, he showed me, at some bow-shots from the second lagune, a group of ruined 
 
 THE LAKE OF GOLD AND LAKE OF SILVER. 
 
 houses backed by a hill. We crossed the river on a sand-bank, which seemed to be 
 placed there expressly to facilitate the passage from one shore to the other, and 
 directed our steps towards these houses, which, from their tumble-down appearance, 
 one could not have supposed to be inhabited, if the thread of smoke which rose from 
 the roof of one of them had not revealed the presence of man. 
 
 At the noise made by our arrival the door of the smoking house opened, and the 
 head of a woman appeared. She regarded us with a scared look, but apparently re- 
 assured by our pacific exterior, asked my guide what good wind had blown him here; 
 as for me, I obtained no more notice than if I had been one of the bags carried by 
 our mules. However, I was accustomed to the manners of the Quichuas, and this 
 indifference did not trouble me. After exchanging a few words with this woman, my 
 guide requested me to dismount, and seek for a room in the house that would suit me. 
 
 n 
 
S-2 
 
 PERU. 
 
 I looked at the Indian to judge by her expression if she were agreeable to this or not. 
 As soon as she caught my eye she faced about and turned her back upon me. 
 " Silence gives consent," I said to myself, as I passed her haughtily and entered. 
 
 That which Nor .Medina — no doubt from regard for the sex — had called a house 
 was a square space, black, smoky, and sordid. Tattered garments were everywhere 
 hanging from the rafters. The original colour of these rags was hid under a covering 
 
 HAMLET OP C05IPUERTA. 
 
 of soot. A fire of llamas' dung was burning in the centre of the place, spreading an 
 odour like musk, which, added to the thick smoke it emitted, offended both sight and 
 smell. A pot placed before the fire indicated that some kind of supper was in pre- 
 paration. I lifted the cover, and saw one of those broths composed of water and the 
 flour of maize, which the Indians highly relish in defect of anything better. To me it 
 seemed but poor stuff. I drew a stool before the fire, and while I reflected, as I 
 stirred up the embers, on the meagre fare which awaited me, a cock which was roosting 
 in a corner of the hut began to crow. I started up at this unusual sound, and signing 
 to Xor Medina, who entered just then followed by the Indian, he came near me. 
 
 "I do not care for glagua," 1 said in a low tone, showing him the Lacedaemonian 
 broth that was stewing in the pot, "but the cock I heard crow just now is exactly to 
 my mind: is it possible, do you think, to get it for supper?" 
 
AREQU1PA TO LAMPA. 83 
 
 " Nothing is more easy," he replied, in the same low tone. Then turning to the 
 woman, "Mamita," said he, "go and see if the nudes are all right," .She went out, 
 and returned in a minute or two to utter a cry of rage at the sight of Nor Medina 
 seated before the fire, his legs wide apart, and in the act of plucking her favourite 
 rooster, whose jugular lie had already cut, 
 
 "Mamita," he said, in reply to her ciy of rage, "this fowl is very thin." 
 
 "Monster!" she cried in Quichua, "dog of a Metis, thief, murderer! To kill a 
 cock that I myself reared, anil that told the time so well by his crowing. What had 
 the poor thing done to you?" And thereupon she began to cry. 
 
 "Silence! woman," said Nor Medina, gravely. "The Uagua that yon were cooking- 
 is not to the taste of this traveller, and, as it was absolutely necessary he should 
 have something to eat, your old rooster will have the honour of satisfying his hunger. 
 Besides we mean to pay you for the skinny brute! How much may it be worth? 
 A real? Two reals?" 
 
 The Indian, accustomed like others of her caste to exactions, often accompanied 
 with violence, from the descendants of the Spaniards, appeared so surprised and 
 delighted at the idea of being reimbursed for what, till then, people had contented 
 themselves with taking from her, that her tears suddenly ceased. Nevertheless, from 
 the singular manner in which she looked at Nor Medina, it was evident she thought the 
 offer was made in derision; so to end her anxiety, I took from my pocket apiece of 
 four reals, and putting it in her hand, begged her to excuse the rough manners of my 
 guide. She received the money with a sort of doubtful astonishment, turned it over 
 and over, as if to assure herself that it was not bad; then, convinced of the goodness 
 of the metal, she smiled, and slipped it into the hem of her petticoat. 
 
 "In fact," said she, drying her eyes, "it is better so: the apuhualpacuna [literally, 
 lord of //ens] prevented Juan from sleeping, and sooner or later he would have wrung 
 its neck." And to show the muleteer that she bore him no malice, she sat down by 
 his side, took one wing of the fowl, and set to work plucking it, while Nor Medina 
 devoted himself to the other. Thanks to their emulation, the cock was soon despoiled 
 of his coat of many colours, singed, cleaned, dismembered, and thrown into an earthen 
 pan which the woman furnished with the best grace, as she did also some beef-dripping, 
 and some onions which she took out of a hole in the wall that appeared to serve as a 
 larder. A few pleasant words which I addressed to her by way of acknowledgment, 
 and two or three friendly slaps on the back which Nor Medina gave her, restored to 
 the Indian all her good humour. 
 
 While my supper was cooking the sound of voices was heard without, " That is 
 Juan and his friends come from the mine," said the woman. As she finished speaking the 
 door opened, and four Indians enveloped to the eyes in their striped ponchos entered. 
 At the sight of the strangers they could not hide a grimace; but Nor Medina having 
 welcomed them home, and the woman having shown her husband the half-piaster 
 which she had received, their physiognomies, for a moment hostile, brightened, and 
 they smiled in unison. Whilst the Indians took off their cloaks the woman lighted 
 one of those resinous torches, done up in the s'pathe of the banana-tree, and which 
 
84 PERU. 
 
 they obtain from the eastern valleys. In its light— though, by the way, it emitted 
 more smoke than flame — the Quichuas, seated on the ground, took from their wallets 
 a wooden porringer, which they handed to the hostess, and which she filled to the 
 brim with smoking elagua. 
 
 Then commenced a most amusing pantomime, the notion of which would have 
 delighted Pierrot-Debureau. Each Indian, on receiving his full porringer, balanced it 
 on the tips of his five fingers, then making it revolve, began to sup that portion of 
 the soup which had been slightly cooled by its contact with the wood. The dexterous 
 rapidity with which these honest fellows manoeuvred their bowls, the twinkling of their 
 eyes, and the play of physiognomy which accompanied the operation, combined to form 
 a spectacle so new and curious, that while I watched it I quite forgot I had eaten 
 nothing since the morning. 
 
 The fact however was recalled to me by Nor Medina's announcement that supper 
 was ready. He had spread my saddle-cloth on the ground like a table-cloth, and set 
 in the middle of it the earthen dish and its contents, sharpened a piece of wood to 
 serve as a fork, and provided a jug of iced water. I had nothing to do but to fall to 
 work. My repast finished, and observing that my muleteer was disposed to appro- 
 priate all that was left of the' supper, I desired him to offer the mistress of the house, 
 as a token of my perfect esteem, a portion of the fowl whose tough flesh had made my 
 jaws ache. The man eagerly obeyed, only instead of a wing or a thigh which I had 
 wished to see him offer my hostess, it was the wreck of the carcass that the rascal gave 
 her, which however she sucked with evident pleasure. 
 
 "Poor apuhualpacuna" said she, as she licked her fingers, "if anything could 
 console it now, it would be to think it had been eaten by a Spanish cavalier!" 
 
 The sitting soon came to an end. The Quichuas, after consulting together in a low 
 tone, disappeared, saluting us with Quedense con Dios — Rest with God! By the 
 rummaging which followed in the adjoining hut, I concluded they had bestowed them- 
 selves there for the night, and had given us entire possession of the apartment Ave 
 occupied. This was confirmed when the woman, having added some handfuls of fuel 
 to the fire which was on the point of going out, went to rejoin her husband. Left to 
 ourselves, we spread our skin-cloaks at some little distance from the hearth, and threw 
 ourselves upon them with all our clothes on. In five minutes we were sleeping like the 
 blessed. 
 
 At six o'clock in the morning we resumed our journey. The ground fell away 
 rapidly from west to east. The landscape which lay at our feet was concealed by 
 a thick white fog, the borders of which were feebly illumined by the rising sun. 
 In the measure we descended the fog lifted, and very soon all the lower part of 
 the plateau stood out well defined and clear, whilst the heavens Avere A^eiled by a 
 thick mass of vapours. After a moment these vapours began to move in masses 
 that rolled over one another, and from opaque Avhite changed to transparent red; 
 then the immense curtain Avas rent, and Ave beheld in all their splendour the ethereal 
 blue and the orb of the rising sun. 
 
 The distance from Compuerta to Cabana, which Ave intended to reach before 
 
AREQU1PA TO LAMPA. 85 
 
 night, is estimated at six leagues; but these six Hispano-Ameriean leagues are equal 
 to nine French leagues, or twenty-seven miles. Moreover, the landscape, a very 
 unimpressive one, ottered nothing to the casual observer but short grass and stones, 
 so that the tourist in search of recreation would more likely have found himself 
 wearied to death with its monotony. Xot so, the learned devotee of Flora or of Cybele. 
 For him there was no lack of subjects for delighted admiration. Thanks to the 
 spectacles he habitually wears, which enlarge objects, and occasionally make them 
 appear double, he discovers in the grass beautifully branched fragosas of liliputian 
 size, little stemless flowerets, gentians, wernerias, loasas, lysipomias, lobelias, &c, for 
 the most part white, justifying the local saying, Oro en la costa y jrfata en la sierra. 1 
 
 If from the vegetable kingdom the same learned traveller turns to the mineral, 
 where the tourist sees nothing but stones, there is visible to him, always aided by 
 his spectacles, mighty masses of trappean porphyry, composed of nitrous feldspar and 
 amphibolite, in which he recognizes the character of the materials employed by the 
 Incas in their beautiful constructions of the eleventh and twelfth centuries. 
 
 As it was neither in the character of a savan nor that of a tourist that I was 
 travelling, but as a man occupied with his own affairs, I neither looked for discoveries 
 nor for diversion in the landscape. All my attention was concentrated upon my 
 mule, urging him on by voice and spur, while listening, without replying, to the 
 perpetual chatter of my guide. 
 
 Since leaving Compuerta we had kept steadily along by the river bank, with the 
 view of avoiding the mountains and declivities that lay in the direct line to Cabana. 
 This had been decided on by Nor Medina, not out of consideration for me, as one 
 might have thought, but for the sake of his beasts, who, he said, were almost done up 
 with these perpetual transitions from the nadir to the zenith. Any one else in my 
 place would have remonstrated, and compelled the worthy muleteer to follow the 
 more direct line, especially as the curve of the road we were following lengthened a 
 little the stage. My amour propre, however, prevented me from grumbling. I feared 
 to give the honest man occasion to laugh at a traveller who should complain 
 of a league more or less of road, when he had himself gone eighty miles out of the 
 way to gratify a mere whim. 
 
 The sun rose high ; hour after hour passed by. The river of Compuerta changed its 
 course from south-east to east, and then north. The ground fell away in a more 
 decided slope. At that moment, to speak nautically, we were off Chucuytu, at 
 the distance of forty-five miles from which stretched the immense basin of the Lake of 
 Titicaca, and if there had been a high mountain at hand we might have looked from its 
 summit upon the sacred lagune, the thirteen isles dotted over its surface, and the 
 fourteen rivers which assist to swell its waters. In the impossibility of delighting my 
 eyes with the spectacle of that alpine sea, by turns so calm and so furious, the eleva- 
 tion of which is nearly 12,800 feet above the level of the two oceans, I recalled to 
 
 1 Gold on the coast and silver in the sierra. Almost all the flowers which grow in sight of the Pacific Ocean, and 
 which are of the Aster, Hclianthus, Hieraeium, Actinea, and Chrysanthemum characters, are in fact of a golden-yellow colour ; 
 while those which we meet with in the Sierra are silver-white. 
 
86 PERU. 
 
 mind, day by day, the happy time when I wandered without care on these banks, 
 seeking to surprise in their aquatic sports, but never finding them, the "green spider," 
 the "gyrinus" (a species of water-beetle), and the "bearded triton," of which Father 
 Valera speaks in his Histoire Naturelle du Perou. I remembered, too, how vainly I 
 had rummaged among the reeds and rushes to find the Polygonium amphibium, 
 mentioned by the same learned writer; and how, disappointed in my fruitless researches, 
 I had stopped to crunch a biscuit, or make ducks and drakes with the white and black 
 stones on the river side. Alas ! that the memory of the past should bring with it so 
 much that is sad and melancholy. 
 
 At the moment of leaving for ever these elevated regions, about which many closet 
 savans had written so learnedly without having seen them, I felt myself drawn to them 
 by every bond of habit and sympathy. I would gladly have carried in my hand, as 
 Charlemagne carries his globe, this historic country, of which the ancient civilization of 
 India, in its inarch round the world, had made a centre of light. With what ethnogra- 
 phical fervour, with what archa'ological enthusiasm, I could have deposited it in some 
 European museum, under a glass case, in order that our savans, by studying it close 
 at hand, might agree, once for all, as to its origin and history ! 
 
 These memories of the past absorbed me so completely for some hours, that I felt 
 neither the hunger from which I was nevertheless suffering, nor the cold caused by a 
 penetrating wind which blew from the snowy Andes of Crucero, as the sun set behind 
 us. Neither did I remark that at the extremity of the plateau we were crossing, there 
 appeared, like white and black points, the houses of two villages, built opposite each 
 other, and separated by the breadth of the river Compuerta. Nothing less than an 
 exclamation from Nor Medina that we were drawing near the end of our day's march, 
 would have served to dispel my reverie, and overthrow the scaffolding of hypotheses 
 that I had been so busily erecting. 
 
 I had scarcely realized the fact that the villages in sight were those of Cabana 
 and Cabanilla, when my stomach reasserted its long disregarded rights. A moment 
 afterwards we entered the village of Cabana, leaving on our right that of Cabanilla, 
 which a roughly constructed bridge of three arches, built of gray trachyte, unites to its 
 neighbour. 
 
 Cabana, to which the makers of Peruvian statistics, with a modesty which savours 
 of good taste very rare among them, simply allude in their little compilations, without 
 attaching to its name any striking epithet, is neither an illustrious capital, a well-deserv- 
 ing city, nor a heroic town! It is a cluster of small houses constructed of broken stones 
 and mud, thatched with ichu, the stiff straw of the Cordilleras, and disposed in the 
 form of a Z. The middle of the downward stroke of this letter forms a kind of plaza 
 or square, occupied by the church, a modest structure of mud, with a square belfry, 
 the projecting roof of which, supported by pillars bent with age, is turned up at the 
 edge like the roof of a pagoda. On this little belfry, lit up for a moment by a ray of 
 the setting sun, a dozen black vultures {Percmopterus urubu), like undertakers in feathers, 
 had aligned themselves in that immobility of pose which is the characteristic of this 
 obscene bird. 
 

AREQUIPA TO LAMPA. 
 
 so 
 
 Notwithstanding the neighing of our mules, who had scented the stable, and the 
 clamorous manner in which Nor Medina announced our arrival, not a soul appeared at 
 the doors of the houses. The melancholy village seemed to be enchanted, or unpeopled 
 by a pestilence. On remarking this to my guide, he explained that the inhabitants had 
 probably gone to explore the quebradas, rivers, and brooks of the neighbourhood, in 
 search of gold-dust or fragments of silver-ore, with which to pay their dues. 
 
 THE VILLAGES OF CABANA AND CABANILLA. 
 
 "But," I objected to the man, "the abolition of tribute has been decreed, and con- 
 sequently the Indian has no longer anything to pay to the state!" 
 
 "Cabal" (just so!) he replied; "but if the Indian pays no tribute to the state, he has 
 always his little accounts to settle with the sub-prefect of the province, the governor, 
 and the alcalde. I say nothing of the lord-bishop, of the cure, of the vicar, and of the 
 monks of our convents, holy men, who care so little for silver that they content them- 
 selves with deducting a tithe from the crops of potatoes, chuno, quinoa, oats, or what- 
 ever the Indian may grow. Perhaps he has no crop at all; but his wife has a distaff, and 
 she spins and sends to the tithe-collector (diezmero) a few balls of llama's wool, which 
 are always received with pleasure. In default of wool she has perhaps a guinea-pig, a 
 few eggs, a cake of tallow, or other article: any of these will do, and the little presents 
 she makes serve to keep up a good understanding. Our Indians know this so well, 
 
 VOL. I. IS 
 
90 P £ RU. 
 
 that although they may grumble a little, they take care not to neglect these little duties 
 when the time comes to pay court to the civil and religious authorities." 
 
 "But this is frightfully tyrannical," I exclaimed. 
 
 "It would be impolite to contradict your lordship," replied the mule-driver, "but 
 assuredly the Indian looks at these things from a different point of view. He may 
 grumble, sometimes, but he does not raise a clamour. Habit counts for much in so 
 many things. I will even venture to say that most Punarunacunas 1 view these 
 excursions into the quebradas as nothing more than a party of pleasure. They would 
 like to enjoy the outing alone, and at liberty; for all are lawfully married, and a 
 married man is never sorry to be free for a moment. But Scripture having ordained 
 that the wife is to cleave to the husband, the Indian wife, caring nothing whether it 
 pleases her lord and master or not, follows in his wake, under the pretext of preparing 
 his food and mending his clothes, but really only to vex him. Then, as the children 
 could hardly live without their mother, and as the dogs would die of ennui without 
 the children, it comes to pass that both man and beast absolutely abandon their 
 village for a time; considerations which will explain to you the complete solitude we 
 have found here. 
 
 "Our Indians will remain ten or twelve days afield. At the end of this time, if 
 they have filled their chuspa with metal, they set apart the few piastres which are due 
 to the superior authorities, and lay out the rest in the purchase of brandy and coca. 
 At home once more, they will dance merrily to the sound of a tin trumpet and a 
 charango; drink, get drunk, and soundly beat their wives, as a lesson not to leave the 
 conjugal roof another time. But this is labour lost. A woman is by nature incor- 
 rigible, and an Indian woman has a taste for being beaten. It flatters her amour 
 propre. A good shower of blows from a stick or a knotted cord, administered now and 
 then by him she calls her palomadiay*" or "cherished dove," is a better proof to her 
 than any number of protestations and oaths that the man in question has chosen her for 
 his companion, and continues to cherish her above all other women. . . ." 
 
 Here the dissertation of Nor Medina was interrupted by the baying of a dog which 
 seemed to be affected with laryngitis. 
 
 "It is the alcco of the cure," he said, "a poor animal that has grown as useless as 
 his master." 
 
 At this moment we turned the angle of an almost broken-down wall, and I 
 discovered a miserable house built against the apsis of the church, of which the 
 projecting thatched roof protected it from the north wind as the foliage of a tree 
 protects the nest of a bird. This dwelling, furnished with one window and one door, 
 was so low that a horseman by rising upon his stirrups could rest his elbows upon its 
 summit. 
 
 1 Ritna, man; puna, plateau; cuna, the; — the men of the plateau. This is the name given to the indigenes of the 
 region of Collao. 
 
 2 The word paloma, pigeon or dove, is Spanish, this bird not being found in the wild state in South America, but 
 having been naturalized there by the Spaniards. On the other hand, there are seven or eight varieties of turtle-doves, of 
 which the largest is the size of a wood-pigeon, and the smallest that of a common sparrow. The first is called urpi; the 
 second cuculi. It is the urpi that, under the name of urpi-lla and urpilla-ckay, sweet turtle-dove, darling turtle-dove, 
 figures in the greater number of yaravU and poems of the Quichuas. 
 
AREQUIPA TO LAMPA. 
 
 91 
 
 Alstp.cemeria, 
 Called by mistake the Lily of the Incas. 
 
 The front of this humble abode was somewhat enlivened by being whitewashed. 
 On the window-sill, in a common earthen pot, but of such a shape as to recall the art 
 of the Etruscans, blossomed one of those alstrcemerias which European horticulturists 
 improperly call the Lily of the Incas, 1 and of which the variety tomentosa, which I 
 recognized at a glance, flourishes in the shady thickets in certain sheltered spots of the 
 Entre-Sierra. The sight of these pretty flowers, with their petals of greenish pink, 
 spotted with a brownish red, gave me much pleasure. They 
 indicated on the part of their possessor a certain delicacy of 
 organization, which seemed a good augury for the refreshment 
 and shelter which I designed to beg of him. As the dog, 
 a miserable cur, toothless, blear-eyed, his hair bristling, re- 
 doubled his noise on seeing us alight, an old woman made 
 her appearance on the threshold, regarding us with an 
 astonished air. 
 
 " Dios bendiga a U. mamita" (God bless you, little mother), 
 cried my guide, in a tone at once respectful and familiar. 
 
 "Alii llamanta Hueracoc/ta" (Good day, signor), the woman 
 answei'ed in the idiom of the Quichuas. 
 
 The manner of the salutation, and the difference of idiom 
 between the two personages, testified not only to a greater 
 degree of civilization in the one than in the other, but the 
 title of honour which the woman had accorded to the muleteer in answer to the 
 qualification of "little mother," seemed to imply an inferiority of position, with which I 
 could not help being struck. I had no opportunity of asking my guide about this. 
 The old woman on learning from him that I desired to see the cure" Cabrera, imme- 
 diately invited me to enter the house. I therefore followed her in, leaving Nor Medina 
 to unsaddle our mules. 
 
 Having crossed the first room, which appeared to serve as ante-chamber, kitchen, 
 and dining-room, my conductress stopped and asked me timidly if my business with the 
 cure was of so pressing a nature as to make it necessary to Avake him out of the siesta 
 in which he was just then indulging. 
 
 To this inquiry I courteously replied that it was not necessary to interrupt 
 the holy man's slumber, that I could very well wait, more especially if to wile away 
 the intervening time, my hostess would give me something to eat. Hardly had this 
 sentence escaped me than the curd, who was not, as the good woman believed, 
 asleep, and had heard me through the partition, called out in Quichua, "With 
 whom are you speaking, Veronica?" 
 
 "With a white-skinned Hudracocha, who says he has business with you, my 
 brother, and who asks for something to eat. . . ." 
 
 " For he is faint with hunger," added I, raising my voice, and using purposety the 
 idiom employed by my hosts. 
 
 1 It is the JTarcissics amancais, not the Ahtroemeria, which the natives call Lily of the Incas. 
 
92 PERU. 
 
 "Eh! my sister, to work quickly," replied the curd: "kill a guinea-pig, beat 
 some eggs and make an omelette; do you not hear that this poor traveller says he 
 is hungry \ And you, sir," said he, addressing me, " be so good as to walk in here 
 where we can converse with more comfort." 
 
 I left the good dame Veronica to her culinary preparations and took advantage 
 of the cure's invitation. When I had opened the door which formed the communi- 
 cation between the two apartments, I found myself in a room of some size, though 
 with a low ceiling. A Verenguela stone, transparent like glass and cut square, 
 was fixed between the rafters of the roof and illuminated the room after the manner 
 of an artist's studio. 
 
 The cure was seated on one of those square blocks of masonry which serve among 
 the common people the purposes of chair, table, and bed. A pile of fleeces, with 
 coarse woollen coverings over them, modified the hardness of this couch. The pastor 
 was saying his rosary, which he suspended to a nail when I entered. Then as I drew 
 near, he stretched towards me in an uncertain manner, as though seeking mine, his 
 two hands. 
 
 "Help me, dear sir," he said with singidar sweetness of expression, "I know 
 you are there, but cannot tell your exact position ; four years since God deprived 
 me of the light of the sun, and now I cannot see earthly things except in thought." 
 
 I eagerly took the old man's hands, who drew me towards him and made me 
 sit on his bed. I was so moved by the discovery of an infirmity so unexpected, 
 that I was unable to offer the slightest attempt at consolation, or even a word of 
 politeness to the venerable father. As I stealthily examined him he caressed my 
 hands with an effusion quite juvenile, felt the stuff of which my clothing was made, 
 and seemed to give himself up to a physiological examination of which I coixld not 
 imagine the aim. 
 
 "You do not belong to this country," he at length said, "you have neither the 
 tone of voice nor the exterior of my countrymen; tell me, dear sir, whence you come, 
 whither you go, and what kindly wind has drifted you to my humble dwelling?" 
 
 "With great willingness," I answered. "I left Hay last week, and I am on my 
 way to Brazil, which I hope to reach before three months are out. My motive in 
 coming to your home is a very simple one. Nearly five years ago, when visiting 
 en amateur one day the museum of Lima, I perceived in a corner of the hall which 
 contains the genealogical tree of the Incas, a portrait of Don Juan Pablo Cabrera, 
 the curd of Macusani. This portrait, painted in oils, by an artist of the country, was 
 of small value as a painting, and my attention would have been immediately turned 
 from it if I had not read the biography of the original inscribed in a corner of the 
 canvas. I was so impressed by this account of a holy and laborious life that I vowed 
 to myself I would not leave America without seeing the original of the portrait, 
 It is in fulfilment of this determination, reverend father, that instead of taking the 
 road to Cuzco by the Andes I have come by way of Lampa, feeling almost certain 
 that I should find in the village of Cabana him whom I wished to see, and whom 
 I had long loved without knowing." 
 
AREQUIPA TO LAMPA. 
 
 93 
 
 "You have done that for me!" exclaimed the poor priest, raising my hands 
 to his lips with such eagerness that I could not prevent this demonstration of pro- 
 found gratitude and wonderful humility. "Ah! sir, ah! my child — because I guess 
 from your voice you are young — God will bless 3011, since you remember those who 
 suffer and arc forgotten." 
 
 A thoughtful silence prevailed between us for some minutes. 
 
 " Europe is a noble country and her sons have noble hearts," said the cure, at 
 length, as if in reply to some anterior meditation. It is to Europe we owe the great 
 
 THE CCRE OF MACUSANI, A TKUE PRIEST ACCORDING TO THE GOSPEL. 
 
 ideas that have been disseminated among us. If those ideas have produced nothing, 
 if the good seed has dried up in the ground, or has given but the stubble without 
 the ear, it is because our hearts and our understandings were not prepared to receive 
 it. When I dwelt at Macusani I knew Europeans who were drawn to these 
 countries simply by their love for science. Although my relations with them were 
 of the shortest duration, their memory has been deeply engraved in my heart." 
 
 Whilst the priest spoke I studied his physiognomy and mentally compared it with 
 the horrid portrait I had seen of him. His features presented the type of the Iranian 
 race, but without the projecting cheek-bones and prominent curvature of the nose 
 which characterize that race. A constant habit of thought, instinct with human 
 charity and divine love, seemed to have still more ennobled and refined the contours 
 of a face that was already noble and perfectly formed by nature. The old man's 
 eyes, closed, as he himself had said, to the light of this world, and not communicating 
 to the spirit any reflection from exterior nature, imparted to his face the noble calm- 
 ness of a beautiful antique mask. The Quichua idiom, with its ornate expressions 
 and high-flown metaphors, which he employed in preference to the Spanish when 
 conversing, had added spirituality, so to speak, to that plastic beauty by taking from 
 
94 
 
 PERU. 
 
 his thought I know not what mysterious grace, what sustained elevation, which had 
 nothing in common with the habitual language of men. 
 
 The costume of the priest consisted of a kind of loose gown or wrapper 1 made of 
 bayeta, a coarse cloth manufactured in the country. His shirt was made of unbleached 
 cotton cloth, and a handkerchief of cotton stuff with a square pattern served him for 
 a cravat. As for the room itself, it was, like the old man's garments, simple almost 
 to bareness. Whitewashed walls, a bolster for his head, a linen cloth representing the 
 Virgin Mary des sept douleurs; a holy-water vessel, and a rosary by the side of the 
 image; here and there a few benches and stools, a leathern trunk, and some objects 
 of no value ; on the right side of the chamber, in the shade, a second couch, probably 
 that of the priest's sister Veronica, completed the humble furniture, and brought to my 
 memory these lines of a poet— 
 
 "La croix de bois, l'autel de pierre, 
 Suffit aux hommes comme a Dieu." 
 
 The worthy pastor had been silent for some time when I asked him, with suitable 
 apologies, to relate some details of his past history and the life which he led in this 
 solitude. 
 
 " My child," he replied, with a beautiful smile, " did you not tell me you have read 
 the inscription on my portrait?" 
 
 "That inscription," I replied, "has only told me of the virtues of the priest and 
 the labours of the man. It has told me nothing of his sufferings, and it is of them 
 I wish to hear, because, if I had not gathered as much from your words, I should have 
 divined, on seeing you and hearing you speak, that you had suffered." 
 
 An expression of bitterness passed over the old man's face, as the shadow of a 
 cloud over still water. But he promptly replied: 
 
 " The day is far advanced, and it is fifteen miles to the nearest estancia. Will you 
 give me your company this evening and pass the night under my roof? On that 
 condition I will tell you the story of my life, not as you have read it in the museum 
 at Lima, but as God alone knows it. ..." 
 
 " I will not quit you till to-morrow morning," I replied. 
 
 "Veronica!" he cried, leaning towards the door of communication, " will it be 
 long before the supper of our guest is ready?" 
 
 "A little patience, brother," replied Veronica; "the com/ 2 is only done on one side, 
 and I have still my omelette to make." 
 
 As I apologized to the cure for the embarrassment and trouble I had occasioned 
 to his sister with these preparations for a meal, when a morsel of bread and cheese 
 would have sufficed: 
 
 "Oh!" he said, "we are not in Lent and to-day is not Friday, that you should be 
 half-starved ; I am only vexed that there should be any delay in serving you. The fact 
 is, Veronica has no one but herself in the house. Our sister Epifania is gone to Lampa 
 
 1 Hovppelam.de in French ; it has neither a collar nor sleeves fitted to the figure, and is generally wadded. — Tr. 
 
 2 The Quichua name of the guinea-pig (Cavia minima). 
 
AREQUIPA TO LAMPA 95 
 
 to sell the wool which the poor girls have spun together during the past week, and I do 
 not expect her back till the evening." 
 
 "That is a journey of six leagues" (eighteen miles), I observed. 
 
 "Six there and six back," replied the cur£; "making twelve leagues (thirty-six 
 miles) that our sister will have to walk to-day, so that she will return thoroughly 
 tired. Thank God the river of Lampa Avill not be flooded, for Epifania will have 
 to cross it by a ford, and the current is very strong. . . . 
 
 "With a good mule she has nothing to fear," I remarked. 
 
 "Alas!" said the priest, "we have neither horses nor mules, and our sister is 
 obliged to go afoot. This is one of my greatest troubles. My poor sisters, whom I 
 would willingly surround with every comfort in their old age to recompense them for 
 their past labours. . . . But God will know how to reward them in my place. ..." 
 This conversation was interrupted by Dame Veronica, who called out that supper was 
 ready. 
 
 " Give me your arm," said the ciu-e, " and let us go to the table. Whilst you eat 
 I will finish saying my rosary." 
 
 After I had satisfied my hunger, and Nor Medina had also had his wants supplied, 
 the cure" proposed that we should walk out to enjoy for a moment the evening air. 
 As we left the house a joyous chime of bells struck up in the direction of Cabanilla. 
 "Already the oracion!" said the priest. Dame Veronica, who had followed us to the 
 door, looked at the summit of the hills, which were reddened by the last rays of 
 the setting sun. "My brother," she said without hesitation, "it is six o'clock. I will 
 put back my watch: it makes three minutes past six." " That woman," I said to myself, 
 " is a veritable chronometer." 
 
 The cure having passed his arm within mine, we walked through the village, all the 
 houses of which were closed, and out on the plain. A silence unbroken by the voice 
 of man, the song of bird, or the chirp of an insect, reigned around. The sun had 
 sunk to rest in a winding-sheet of violet, fringed with purple and gold; in these lati- 
 tudes, where there is no twilight, night follows day suddenly. Already the distance 
 was gathering darkness, vapours ascended from the bottom of the ravines and rose 
 in the air like smoke from the tripods of antiquity. The nearer cerros greAV dark as we 
 gazed, the stars began to twinkle, yet daylight had not completely disappeared. A 
 vague and charming glimmer of rose-coloured light, reflected from the purple of the 
 setting sun, tinged the snows of the Crucero which bounded the horizon in the east. 
 These snows so delicately coloured and so life-like in the midst of the dull, gray, sleepy 
 landscape, might be compared to the smile which lingers upon the mouth of a beautiful 
 woman whose eyes have already closed in sleep. In presence of this calm and radiant 
 spectacle of the earth hushing its noises and heaven kindling its stars — a spectacle 
 which God gives every evening to his creatures, and which it was my privilege 
 to contemplate — I felt a sense of inexpressible pity for the poor priest to whom for 
 four years all this glory had been but a memory. 
 
 We continued our walk in silence. From time to time my companion dropped 
 a short sentence, to which I replied in the same laconic manner, and then we again 
 
96 PERU. 
 
 relapsed into meditation. We continued to walk thus, purposeless, dreaming rather 
 than talking, until the night grew cold, when the old man manifested his intention 
 to return home. Half an hour afterwards we were seated on his bed. Dame Veronica 
 had taken her distaff, and, squatted on a bit of carpet a few steps from us, was 
 occupied in spinning by the smoky flame of a lamp. 
 
 "The moment has arrived," said the cure, "to tell you that part of my history 
 of which men are ignorant and God alone knows. I was born at Canima, a small 
 village in the department of Puno, and not at Macusani, as my biographers have said. 
 I was a priest at twenty-five, officiating in the cure of Macusani, in the province 
 of Carabaya. My two sisters, Veronica and Epifania, left alone after the death of 
 our parents, had come to live with me. Impressed with the greatness of my office, 
 and thoroughly alive to the obligations it imposed on me, I had resolved to raise from 
 the brutedike condition to which they were reduced the wretched Indians whom God 
 had given me for my flock. To open the eyes of their spirit to the true light, to bring 
 hope to their withered hearts, to make of the poor slaves, whom fear of the whip kept 
 in subjection to their masters, freemen, brothers in Jesus Christ united indissolubly 
 by the bonds of affection and devotedness, such was the dream which I had cherished 
 before taking orders, such was the idea to which, when I became a priest, I resolved to 
 consecrate my life. 
 
 "After a first year passed in the exercise of my functions, and during which I 
 rebuilt, by the aid of my own money, the church of Macusani, which had fallen to 
 decay, I realized all the difficulty of my apostolic mission, of which I had previously 
 regarded only the end without embarrassing myself with the means. Brutalized by 
 the oppression of three centuries, the men who surrounded me were incredulous or 
 indifferent to my words. They saw nothing in the future but a fatal continuation of 
 the past. Accustomed to seek oblivion of their sorrows in the fumes of drunkenness, 
 they did not comprehend that it might be found in the renunciation of self and devotion 
 to others; in love, charity, and fraternity; in a word,, in the soul's life. 
 
 " For a long time I studied these unhappy beings, degraded by long suffering and 
 abject fear, seeking a vulnerable place where the sword of the Word might penetrate. 
 But I gave up the study in despair, as I recognized its utter inutility. No longer 
 hoping to convince them by reason, I substituted sentiment for logic, and gave them 
 the evidence of a life absolutely devoted to their welfare. In acting thus I expected 
 to awake their gratitude, to draw their affection to myself, and to reach their spirit 
 through their hearts. But in this again I was cruelly deceived. In return for all my 
 efforts in their behalf I met only with doubt and suspicion, often irony, malice, or 
 falsehood, almost always baseness under apparent mildness. Ten years of the best 
 part of my life were devoted to this thankless work — ten years, which fell into the gulf 
 of the past, Avithout having caused to grow a single blade of grass upon its borders. 
 
 "Ob, my child! how disenchanted, how wearisome life appeared to me when thus 
 thoroughly convinced that my idea of regenerating this degraded race proved to be a 
 chimera, in the pursuit of which I had laboured in vain! During a considerable period, 
 the exact duration of which I cannot fix, I felt thrown back upon myself and indifferent 
 
AREQUIPA TO LAMPA 97 
 
 to everything. If I was sustained in this trial, it was by the loving care of my poor 
 sisters, avIio sympathized with my sorrows without understanding the cause. 
 
 " Cast down by the loss of my illusions, hurt in my dearest sympathies, yet without 
 auger or hatred for the men to whom I had opened my arms and my heart only to be 
 repulsed, I gave myself up to the study of nature, expecting to find a cure for my 
 sorrows, and at the same time food for my thoughts. I trusted that the contemplation 
 of the Infinite, by exciting a new order of ideas, would draw me away from the troubles 
 of this world and open to my sight the glories of heaven. I became an observer of the 
 wonders of creation, trying to follow nature in her various transformations and to 
 penetrate her secrets. I listened in ecstacy to her capricious harmonies, I tried to 
 penetrate their hidden sense, I was filled with enthusiasm for the order and beauty 
 of the universe and the regularity of the laws which govern it, After having thus 
 marked effects, I tried to ascend to causes, I aspired to know the thought which had 
 presided at the creation, and often uttered a fervent prayer to God that he would 
 satisfy my longing. By-and-bye I perceived that this constant strain of admiration 
 exhausted my powers, without recruiting them. My spirit floated with no guiding 
 hand in this immensity, like a vessel without oars and without a compass, and my eyes, 
 blinded by the light of the stars, closed in very lassitude. I understood then by the 
 strange void which opened in me that I was not meant for a contemplative life. To 
 enjoy instinctively these serene and mysterious scenes, an organization more poetic 
 than mine had been necessary; to study the mechanism of these spheres, and explain 
 in a satisfactory manner the laws and affinities which govern them, had needed an 
 intelligence matured by studies of a more substantial kind than those which are 
 customary with us. 
 
 "Again I was thrown back upon myself, and felt anew my soul crushed by the 
 weight of ennui. The study of nature, which had smiled upon me for a moment, had 
 become hateful. For months, for years, I lived this sad and languid life, doing 
 scrupulously all my duties as a priest and a Christian, but never finding that inward 
 satisfaction that is given by the certainty of a duty accomplished. The errors and the 
 evils for which I had been unable to find a remedy were like so many phantoms which 
 still pursued me when I was awake, and still returned to trouble me in my sleep. 
 
 "The revolution of 1824 broke out, Royalty had to yield to the republic. 
 Great institutions were shaken in a day, the ruins of which encumbered every 
 path. For a moment I hoped that something great and useful would result from 
 this political and social catastrophe — that a happy era had commenced with our 
 populations. But my hope was of short duration. The word 'Liberty' emblazoned 
 on the banner of Simon Bolivar labelled the new power with a lie. As in the past, 
 despotism reigned without control. Instead of viceroys there were presidents, and 
 that was all. The people remained as they were, and as you see them at this 
 moment, miserable, ignorant, brutalized, and, what is worse, either satisfied with 
 their condition, or consoling themselves with drunkenness. This is a phase of my 
 life which you do not read of in the inscription on my portrait, because men are 
 ignorant of it. If I have concealed it from them with the solicitude that one con- 
 
 VOL. I. 13 
 
98 PERU. 
 
 ceals certain private afflictions, it is because it would only have excited their incre- 
 dulity, irony, or indifference, instead of the sympathy which I had a right to expect. 
 
 " I now come to a circumstance of my life which has caused my name to be 
 widely spoken of, and gained for me the honour of a place in the museum of Lima 
 as one of the benefactors of Peruvian industry. The facts are these. When strolling 
 about one day in the hilly region which separates Macusani from the first valleys of 
 Carabaya, I found in the hollow of a rock a male alpaca just born; the mother, who 
 was cropping the grass a few steps off, fled at my approach. I brought away the 
 little creature in my cassock, and on arriving at home gave it to my sisters to 
 bring up. The alpaca grew in company with a vicugna which we had domesticated. 
 At the end of fifteen months these animals presented us with a kid, of which the 
 wool was remarkably fine. A specimen of it having been sent to the merchants of 
 the province attracted so much attention that my sisters saw in the crossing of the 
 pacocha and vicugna breeds a means of recovering the little fortune of which San 
 Martin and the Independents had deprived us. 1 I assisted the poor girls in the exe- 
 cution of their project rather from affection for them than for anything I cared for 
 the fortune. With much trouble we succeeded in procuring several alpacas and 
 vicugnas, and at the end of seven years our flock of hybrids numbered sixty heads. 
 But what pains we had taken to arrive at that result! 
 
 " Meanwhile the news of our enterprise had spread to Lima. The president of 
 the republic, impressed by the advantages which might accrue from it to the com- 
 merce and industry of the country, interested himself in our success. He conde- 
 scended to write me a flattering letter, and as a proof of his particular esteem he 
 wished to place my portrait in the museum of Lima, and to strike a golden medal 
 in my honour, besides giving me the choice of any living I preferred in the depart- 
 ment of Cuzco. That offer I declined. For thirty years I had lived at Macusani, 
 and should have felt it too painful to remove elsewhere. Subsecpiently, how- 
 ever, circumstances compelled me to beg the bishop of the province to allow me to 
 remove. The favour of the great had excited a feeling of hatred against us in the 
 country; peoj)le who had hitherto regarded our enterprise with indifference grew 
 jealous, and as they dared not lay hands on us personally, they attacked our poor 
 beasts, and poisoned them one by one. My sisters, deeply affected by their loss, 
 and not knowing where the malice of our enemies would stop, entreated me to 
 abandon Macusani. In fine, we established ourselves at Cabana, of which Ca- 
 banilla, the neighbouring village, was then an adjunct. We had lived here two 
 years when the hand of God was again heavy upon me. I lost my sight. As I 
 could not fulfil my ministerial duties, the bishop transferred the seat of this cure 
 to Cabanilla, and sent a priest there to supply my place. Left without resources, 
 I addressed a memorial to the government, which concluded with a statement of the 
 disti*ss to which we were reduced, and begged, in place of the honours which the 
 chief of the state had offered me, that he would allow to each of my sisters a 
 
 1 Dim Jose de San Martiu commanded the liberating army of Peru, and assumed the title of Protector, 
 August 3d, 1821.— Tr. 
 
AREQUIPA TO LAMPA. 99 
 
 piastre a day to assist us to live. My petition had the honoiir of being presented 
 to the Chamber, where the deputies made it the text of many fine speeches; but 
 time passed, and no reply came. As we had no means of living, my sisters, with 
 their own hands, cultivated a small field; besides which, Ave bred chickens and 
 guinea-pigs, and thus obtained food and the means of barter with our neighbours. 
 By-and-bye my sisters conceived the idea of spinning and knitting for the charitable 
 people of Lampa, who recompensed them suitably for their work. Little by little 
 we enlarged our resources, and without rising above poverty succeeded in getting 
 enough to keep us alive. For four years we have lived 
 thus, one consoling the other, and drawing closer the bonds 
 of our mutual affection in the degree that we approach 
 the time when death will unravel them." 
 
 The cure ceased to speak; his head slowly inclined as 
 if some thought, brooding in secret, had caused a stupor. 
 Perhaps the recital of his history had been too much for 
 his strength. I looked at Dame Veronica, who continued 
 to spin. Her countenance expressed nothing but a serene im- 
 passibility. Had the habit of suffering blunted the sensibility 
 of the poor old soul, or had she learned from her brother's 
 example to bear her cross patiently? I know not; but her 
 whole attention seemed to be concentrated upon her spinning, 
 as from time to time she examined the thread by the lamp- DAME Veroxica . 
 
 light, as if to assure herself that it was of equal thickness. 
 
 The hour had come to retire; the good priest desired them to make my bed in his 
 chamber. Some sheepskins, which his sister spread on the ground, formed a soft 
 couch. As Nor Medina brought in my saddle, which was to serve me for a pillow, the 
 dog outside began to bark and the voice of a woman replied. "God be praised!" 
 exclaimed the priest, "that is our poor Epifania returned from Lampa!" Dame 
 Veronica went out to meet her sister, and an instant afterwards the two women 
 reappeared together. Epifania took her brother's hand, kissed it, and placed it on her 
 head according to the ancient custom of the Quichuas. "God bless you, my sister, as I 
 bless you!" he murmured. 
 
 "You must be very tired after such a journey," I said to the poor woman, whose 
 dusty feet were cased in sandals of untanned leather, such as are worn by the common 
 people of the country. 
 
 "Bah! I shall sleep all the better for it," she replied gaily; and then placed in her 
 brother's hand some pieces of silver, no doubt the produce of the sale of her work, 
 which the old man slipped under his pillow; then the two women hastily collected 
 some fleeces and woollen coverlets and left the room, closing the door behind them. 
 I was thus left alone with the cure, who having wished me good night and desired 
 me to extinguish the lamp, turned round to the wall. For a moment I heard him 
 praying in a low voice, and sighs were mingled with his prayer. Then my eyes closed, 
 and I fell into a profound sleep. 
 
100 PERU. 
 
 I was up early in the morning, but not before the two sisters had prepared a bowl 
 of porridge made of the flour of maize, of which they insisted I should eat some 
 spoonfuls as a protection against the morning damp. While I was supping my 
 breakfast Nor Medina came to announce that the mules were saddled. I gave him my 
 porringer, half full, that he might finish it, which he did in three mouthfuls. My host 
 and his sisters came to the door to witness our departure. I took the hands of the old 
 jn-iest in both mine 
 
 "Reverend father," I said, "I have nothing to offer you in exchange for your cordial 
 welcome and touching confidence. I am about to quit this country, never to return; 
 but I have at Lima, at Arequipa, and at Cuzco influential friends, who I am certain 
 would receive favourably any request that I might address to them in your behalf. Tell 
 me what they can do that would be agreeable to you?" 
 
 "Absolutely nothing," he replied; "my time upon earth is too short for any- 
 thing that men can do to be available. Go, my dear child, and may God guide 
 you! You will be remembered in the prayers of the old man whom you have 
 come so far to see." The venerable priest folded me in his arms, and the two 
 women shook hands with me as if I were an old acquaintance. 
 
 At the moment of quitting for ever these unfortunate but noble souls, I felt my 
 heart swell and the tears come into my eyes. " Good-bye," I said abruptly 
 as I jumped into the saddle. "Good-bye, and bon voyage," replied all three. Nor 
 Medina was already mounted. " Vamos!" he cried, urging on his mule, whom mine 
 immediately followed. In five minutes afterwards the villages of Cabana and Ca- 
 banilla, and the three-arched bridge which tied the one to the other, had vanished 
 behind us. 
 
 I was too completely absorbed with the remembrance of my hosts to interest 
 myself in the locality we were traversing, or in the always glorious spectacle of a 
 sunrise in the Cordillera. Nor Medina, while respecting my silence, appeared desirous 
 of ending it by making occasional remarks in a high voice. Now it was the girth 
 of my mule which appeared too loose; now my saddle-cloth which hung too much 
 on one side; or, again, he had something to say about the distance to Lampa. 
 I let him talk without replying. When he saw that his indirect endeavours produced 
 no result, he adopted another method, aiming straight at the mark. 
 
 "Was not monsieur pleased with his reception at Cabana?" he asked with an 
 obsequious air. 
 
 "Why that question?" said I. 
 
 "Because monsieur has not opened his mouth since we started, and his silence 
 makes me suppose he is discontented. However, I told you that old Cabrera was 
 a little cracked, and if he has wearied you it is not my fault." 
 
 At these irreverent words I rose in my saddle, and standing in my stirrups in 
 order to crush my interlocutor with the whole height of my stature and my scorn, — 
 
 " Nor Medina," I said, looking like thunder at him, "you are, and you will 
 never be anything else than a — muleteer ! " 
 
 "Indeed, I hope so, monsieur!" he replied, raising his hat to show how he 
 
AREQUIPA TO LAMPA 101 
 
 respected himself; "my grandfather was a muleteer, my father was a muleteer, 
 and I have succeeded my father, as my boy will succeed me some day. Muleteer, 
 carambal is it not the finest thing in the world?" 
 
 Before such a profession of enthusiastic faith, it was impossible to remain serious. 
 The wrath which had been boiling in my veins exploded in a burst of laughter. 
 The ice was broken. Seeing me laugh, my guide laughed also; and becoming good 
 friends on the spot, we recommenced our gossip of the evening before just where 
 we had broken off. After following for two hours the course of the river of Cabana, 
 which now ran with a gentle current, now hurried on its course, according to the ever- 
 varying level, we left it flowing eastward, and took the northward direction to Lampa. 
 The sky was beautifully serene, the landscape was lighted up by a glorious sun; 
 but in about two hours all this glory was hidden behind a curtain of dark clouds. 
 These dense vapours, of the nimbus kind, looked as if they would burst in thunder, 
 hail, and snow, and we had prepared ourselves to receive the shock as philosophically 
 as possible, when Providence took pity on us. The ' black whirlwind passed like a 
 waterspout over our heads, satisfied with having filled our eyes, nose, and ears 
 with dust, and swept along to burst in storm over the Titicaca, to the great terror 
 of the web-footed inhabitants of the sacred lake. An instant afterwards, the sky 
 resumed its serene azure, and the sun shone brilliantly over our heads. 
 
 It was four o'clock when we crossed the shoulder of a hill, over which were 
 scattered fragments of a blackish green obsidian, so sparkling that it pained our 
 eyes. Here and there were erratic blocks of a rectangular shape, and of enormous 
 dimensions, looking like the ruined walls of some fallen edifice. As we passed within 
 a few steps of these masses I noticed a bush of the tolas kind (Baccharis obtusifolia), 
 with stiff and dark -looking foliage. It grows in spots sheltered from the north 
 wind. Round about it, half hidden in the fine shiny grass, some dwarf eranthis 
 (herbaceous Ranunculaceae, known as winter -aconite) peculiar to these latitudes, 
 opened their white petals. I was about to dismount and collect a bouquet of these 
 alpine flowers, which recalled to my memory the golden-hearted daisies that April 
 scatters over the green sward of Europe, when a bird, coming from I know not 
 where, darted like an arrow upon them, and without letting his feet touch the 
 ground, passed from one to another, dipping in their chalice his curved and sharp 
 beak, which was of an extraordinary length. In the buzzing flight of this bird, in 
 his quick and jerky movements, and his peculiar configuration, I recognized an 
 individual of the humming-bird species (Trochilus). But a humming-bird of this 
 size, measuring almost a foot from tip to tip of its expanded wings, appeared to me 
 so prodigious that for a moment I doubted the evidence of my eyes, which opened 
 wide with wonder. However, it Avas impossible to doubt that this was truly a 
 humming-bird, though a giant one, compared with which other individuals of his 
 species was as the sparrow to the dinornis, if the dinornis still exists. 
 
 While the humming-bird balanced himself for a few moments over every flower, 
 which he tore with strokes of his beak when he could obtain nothing from it, I 
 fancy I remarked that the plumage of his back and wings was of a blackish green, 
 
102 
 
 PERU. 
 
 having a metallic glitter, and that his breast was of a blue or blackish gray, 
 passing to a dirty white on reaching the belly. His repast of honey finished, the 
 bird disappeared by a movement of the wings which reminded me of the whirling 
 flight of dried leaves which an autumn storm carries far away from the woods. 
 
 As I had nothing better to do I took out my note-book and wrote the fol- 
 lowing lines in pencil, now so nearly obliterated that I am obliged to use a mag- 
 nifying-glass to decipher them. 
 
 '■ This day, July 7th, the festival of San Firmin, Bishop of Pampeluna, who lived 
 
 BACCHAEIS OBTOSIFOLIA. 
 
 in the fourteenth century, I observed between Cabana and Lampa, at an altitude 
 of about 12,000 feet, a humming-bird of extraordinary size. This humming-bird, 
 brought by the wind, was also carried away by it. The naturalist Tschudi has already 
 established the fact that humming-birds have been found seeking their food at an 
 elevation of 13,700 feet above the sea. But he has said nothing of the flowers which 
 the bird sucks at that altitude. Now the humming-bird which I have this day 
 accidentally seen sucked the honey from an Eravthis gracilis, the nectarium of which, 
 or the petalloid scale which serves as a nectaiy, can contain nothing but an acrid juice 
 of venomous properties like that of the Banunculacese. Submit to the judgment of the 
 first savant I meet this curious case, as it seems to me, of humming-birds flying 
 above the limit of perpetual snow and feeding on poisons." 
 
 An hour after the appearance of the humming-bird, which my guide had taken for 
 a swallow, Ave crossed by a ford the river of Lampa, a stream of no importance in 
 the dry season, but which becomes a furious torrent on the melting of the snows. 
 Already the sun had sensibly declined; the atmosphere, of wonderful purity, seemed 
 to be saturated with gold-dust. The lichens and the lepraria which covered certain 
 rocks took from the reflection of the declining sun tones of reddish brown like the 
 
AREQUIPA TO LAMPA. 103 
 
 iridescent hues of a dove's neck. The eastern hills assumed a bluish hue, and as 
 evening approached were shrouded in an atmosphere like gauze; while those of the 
 west, coloured like ochre and bitumen, stood out with surprising boldness against the 
 purple back-ground of the heavens. At the instant when the sun disappeared a dark 
 and serrated line barred the horizon before us. We were approaching the end of our 
 day's journey; that line was formed by the houses of Lampa. We pushed resolutely 
 forward, and in half an hour more were crossing the stone bridge of three arches which 
 spans the river of that city. 
 
 This bridge, which has been built some fifteen years, replaces an old one of mimbres, 
 the invention of which is attributed to the Incas. The present chief of the state, 
 feeling that a mere swing of osiers recalled injudiciously the past barbarism of the 
 province, had it taken down and replaced by a bridge of stone. This was very speedily 
 done, thanks to an extraordinary contribution of 5000 piastres (about £1000 sterling) 
 which the Lampenos, anxious to beautify their river and to please their president, 
 heroically imposed on themselves. 
 
 Having crossed the bridge I found myself surrounded with low houses grouped 
 without the least order. A pulperia or liquor and grocery store, of the most dilapi- 
 dated aspect, its interior walls covered with soot, threw a livid light upon their squalid 
 facades. I shivered from head to foot without knowing why. A profound silence 
 increased the depression caused by the gloomy aspect of the place. The town seemed 
 to have lost all its inhabitants. Nevertheless as Ave advanced further I could just 
 distinguish some passengers gliding along by the walls like shadows, and here and there 
 a ray of light shone through the cracks of the shutters. This was little enough, yet it 
 was something, and I felt a renewal of hope. At last we came to the grand square 
 occupied by houses tolerably well built. The heavy mass of a church with square 
 towers loomed above their roofs. A few shops badly lighted, but still open, proclaimed 
 that this was the commercial centre of the place, which counted about 2300 souls. 
 I pulled rein at one of these tiendas or tradesman's stalls, the proprietor of which was 
 busy taking in piles of plates, salad bowls, and other articles of crockery, which had 
 been exposed at his door, and begged him to direct me to the house of a certain 
 Seiior Don Firmin de Vara y Pancorbo, a trader in printed cottons, to whom I had 
 a letter of introduction. The man pointed out at the further end of the plaza a 
 house with a wooden balcony, its well-lighted windows contrasting cheerfully with 
 the darkness of the neighbouring dwellings: "You will find the company very merry," 
 he said. 
 
 I thanked the crockery merchant for his information without dreaming of asking 
 for an explanation of his words. On arriving before the house I heard a noise of voices 
 and laughter. My guide and I dismounted. The door was opened by a pongo, whom 
 I sent to inform his master of my arrival. An instant afterwards the wooden staircase 
 of the house creaked under the foot of a man who threw himself down rather than 
 came to meet me. "I am Don Firmin!" he cried on perceiving me, "and you, senor, 
 who are you, and what do you want with meV From the singularity of this reception, 
 and the flushed face of the draper, I concluded that I had interrupted him in his 
 
104 
 
 PERU. 
 
 worship of the " divine buttle," to quote Rabelais. But as his brusqueness appeared 
 to be kindly meant I did not stand on ceremony, but took a letter from my pocket-book, 
 containing a few lines which recommended me to his attention, and presented it to 
 him with a smile. 
 
 " You are Avelcome," he said, after having read it, " my house is at your service 
 as long as you choose to stay. I am a bachelor. To-day is the festival of San Firmin, 
 and I have invited a few of my friends, merchants like myself, and some charming 
 women. You will assist us to keep the festival of my blessed patron." 
 
 Without waiting for my acknowledgments the merchant took my arm and walked 
 
 VIEW OF LAMPA. 
 
 me upstairs. Arrived on the landing he opened a door and ushered me into a large 
 apartment, slenderly furnished but brilliantly lighted, where I judged there were some 
 fifteen persons of both sexes seated round a table. The dirty cloth, the disarranged 
 viands, and the empty or overturned bottles, indicated that precise moment of a 
 Peruvian entertainment when the hunger of the company is completely satisfied, but 
 their thirst is only just beginning to enforce its demands. On seeing me enter arm in 
 arm with the amphitryon of the feast, men and women set urj a loud hurra, which the 
 passengers in the streets — if there were any — must have heard to the extremity of the 
 city. When this sudden excess of enthusiasm had calmed clown, each began shoulder- 
 ing his neighbour aside to make room for me. I squeezed in between two lovely 
 women, a little ]xtsse, but charmingly decollete, who with that graceful assiduity 
 which is the exclusive privilege of their sex, devoted themselves to my comfort; one 
 loading my plate with various kinds of eatables, the other urging me to drink. While 
 doing full justice to these viands, for I was as hungry as a clog, I did my best to answer 
 the questions which these straightforward people at once plied me with. By my dusty 
 and dishevelled costume, and the clank of my Chilian spurs, the gentlemen had judged 
 that I had arrived on horseback, and they wished to know whence I had come, whither 
 I was going, whether I was wholesale or retail, and Avhat articles I traded in. When 
 I told them that I was travelling through America with nothing but an album and a 
 
AREQUIPA TO LAMPA. 105 
 
 few crayons, for the purpose of sketching anything remarkable that I might discover, 
 these Philistines looked at each other out of the corners of their eyes and bit their 
 lips to avoid laughing. I saw that I had failed in my intended effect, but I consoled 
 myself by eating all the faster. 
 
 However, if the avowal I had made had alienated from me the sympathies of the 
 men, it had piqued the curiosity of the women, as I judged from the singular glances 
 they directed towards me. The sweeter half of the human race loves the mysterious 
 and the unintelligible. In this respect a woman is like a child. Anything odd or out 
 of the way pleases her, the complicated charms her, the obscure and incomprehensible 
 takes her whole soul captive. It was sufficient that the beauties who surrounded me 
 could not understand why a man should cross America with no other baggage than 
 an album, to be instantly interested in him. At least I judged so from the toasts 
 which these charming women proposed to what they called " my journey en deshabille." 
 I acknowledged the favour with becoming warmth by raising my glass to the height 
 of my shoulder, passing it from right to left, and, according to the custom of the 
 country, drinking to her who had so honoured me, after having expressed a wish that 
 she might live a hundred years longer. 
 
 This exchange of courtesies with ladies evidently younger than themselves was not 
 very pleasing to my companions. I was made aware of this fact by two rather sharp 
 nudges of the elbow which they gave me simultaneously. Women of a certain age 
 have strange manners sometimes! However I bore the shock bravely; seeing which, 
 the ladies quickly filled their glasses to drink with me, and counterbalance if possible 
 the rising influence of their companions. In addition to this polite attention, they 
 thought it the right thing to ply me with boeaditos, or choice little morsels of food 
 which they put in my mouth with their forks, or more often with their fingers. All 
 this kindness was mingled with arch looks and flattering remarks whispered in soft 
 tones close to my face. From regard for their sex, rather than respect for their 
 experience of the world, I allowed them to have their way. At last they grew so eager 
 in their rivalry that I was at a loss which to attend to; the one invariably interrupting 
 me at the very moment I was about to speak to the other. As I drank a glass of wine 
 with my Clotho — I had given this mythologic name to the lady on my right, not 
 knowing what she was really called — the lady on my left, whom I called my Lachesis, 
 whispered in my ear, " Sweet friend, this last mouthful for the love of me," and, turning 
 quickly round, I received the said mouthful, which I afterwards found to be a bit of 
 fowl's liver, in my eye instead of my mouth. As it had previously been peppered with 
 ground pimento I felt as if a thousand needles had been thrust in my eye. At the 
 howl I set up all the company laughed, and every one wanted to know what the joke 
 was. The author of my mischance told the simple fact. Her calm manner, while I 
 was suffering the most dreadful torment, completed my exasperation. At that moment 
 I felt the fury of Othello, and could have strangled the silly woman ! 
 
 Meanwhile the burning and inflammation caused by the pimento had become 
 worse. Unable to remain in my chair, I rushed across the room, with my napkin 
 to my eye. A mozo (man-servant) brought some cold water, in which a woman — an 
 
 VOL. I. 14 
 
10G PERU. 
 
 angel in comparison with the society in which she was — beat np the white of an egg, 
 and dipping her cambric handkerchief in this salve, she applied it to my bum like 
 a compress. I soon felt quite revived, and b) r repeated applications the irritation 
 was so much lessened that at the end of ten minutes I was able to open my eye 
 and direct a look of thunder at the abominable woman who had done the mischief. 
 
 The humour of the company, damped by this incident, resumed all its hilarity. 
 The servants carried away the remains of the repast, removed the cloth, and set on 
 the table one of those huge cut-glass tumblers, as big as a pail, which are manu- 
 factured in Germany and imported into this country. Our amphitryon emptied into 
 it six bottles of Bordeaux, four of sherry, and two of rum, sweetening and season- 
 ing the whole with sugar and nutmeg. Into this fiery amalgam, called cardinal, 
 he threw a strawberry, 1 which sunk and disappeared, but rose again to the surface 
 of the liquid. Then each of the company, taking from their host the gigantic 
 tumbler, and dipping his lips in the beverage, tried to drink up the strawberry, 
 either by suddenly snatching at it, or by drawing it into his mouth with the help 
 of a perfidious eddy. The little strawberry, however, knew its business, and turning 
 on itself, disappeared every time that an open mouth approached too near it. 
 After several vain attempts, and the absorption, voluntary or otherwise, of copious 
 mouthfuls of liquor, the poor victim passed the glass to his neighbour, who fol- 
 lowed the same tactics with no better success. This pleasant pastime, called "fish- 
 ing the strawberry," of which a bishop, Melchior de la Nava, who lived at Cuzco 
 in the beginning of the eighteenth century, is said to have been the inventor, is for 
 the Peruvians of the Sierra merely an honest pretext to drink. The poorer classes 
 fish the strawberry in a great glass of chicha (the local beer already described), 
 the rich make a heterogeneous and expensive mixture of fine liqueurs and foreign 
 wines. The means, as one sees, may differ, but the result is always the same. 
 Drunkenness is the port at which these strawberry fishers all alike fatally arrive. 
 
 When the glass reached me in its round, I was obliged, whether I liked it or not, 
 to dip my lips and pretend to catch the strawberry. But I was careful to keep my 
 teeth so close shut that no drop of the liquid, in which so many indigenous mouths 
 had dabbled, could get clown my throat. This local amusement lasted as long as any 
 liquor remained in the vessel. Then the strawberry, which had settled at the bottom 
 of the glass, was eaten by one of the drinkers. 
 
 Under the inspiration of the traitorous drink, which soon fermented in their brains, 
 all the company rose. The guitars strummed a triumphant razgo; the women attended 
 
 1 Fraga reniformis, one of the five varieties of strawberries cultivated in Cliili and Peru. It is not a native of 
 these countries, as our horticulturists still believe, but was imported from Spain about the end of the seventeenth 
 century, as other plants, which botanists call after Cliili and Peru, were also originally brought from Europe ; such 
 are the Scilla, or Peruvian hyacinth, the Pancratium ringens and P. latifolium, the Crinum urceolatum, and the 
 Aimin/llis aurea and A. fiammea, originally found in the Azores and the Philippines, but naturalized in Europe by 
 the Portuguese. Some plants of the F. reniformis variety, taken from the island of Mocha or Conception, on the 
 coasl of Chili, by Captain Fruzier, to -whom we owe an account of his visit to these countries, were carried by him 
 to France in 1712. As the reader may be surprised to find strawberries in the midst of the snows of Collao, it is 
 necessary to state that twice a week conveys of asses and mules provision the markets of the principal cities of the 
 Sierra with European and tropical fruits. 
 
AREQUIPA TO LAM PA. 
 
 107 
 
 for a moment to the flying frippery of their garments; the men flourished their hand- 
 kerchiefs; the zauiiiriiccd called on the dancers. A couple renowned for the agility 
 of their movements opened the ball with one of those character dances which the 
 Spaniards call simply troche y moche, but at the sight of which a Parisian sergent de 
 cille would hide his face for shame. Instead of the enormous glass tumbler, they 
 now produced a leathern bottle of brandy, a bacchic bagpipe, from which each in turn 
 
 AN ENTERTAINMENT AT LAM PA — PREPARATION OP THE CARDINAL. 
 
 drew sweet sounds. The orgie now assumed the proportions of a Babel, and I 
 watched my opportunity to slip out of the room. On the landing I found a mozo, 
 whom I collai'ed in a friendly way, and drew into a corner. "Listen," said I, "it is 
 necessary that I should leave here early in the morning, and I want to get a little 
 sleep; show me into a room where, to make all safe, you can lock me up, and take care 
 of the key. If by any chance the master asks for me, tell him I am gone. Take this 
 pourboire and be discreet," I added, slipping into his hand a piastre; "for if you tell 
 Avhere I am, the muleteer who accompanies me will not fail, under some pretext or 
 other, to give you a thrashing before Ave leave the house." The mozo was sharp 
 enough to understand. "Come, monsieur," he said, pocketing the money, "this is 
 the festival of San Firniin, and the master will not dream of going to bed. I will 
 therefore put you in his own room, and if he should want to go in, I will tell him 
 the key is lost." 
 
108 PERU. 
 
 A moment afterwards I was comfortably stretched between two white sheets which 
 the mozo had substituted for those of his master, an attention which I took kindly of 
 him. The worthy mozo presently left me to my reflections, taking away the key 
 as I wished. At first it appeared strange to be occupying the chamber and bed 
 of a man whom I had not known at sunset, and without his knowledge; but this 
 scruple, if I may call it one, soon vanished. I considered the thing philosophically, 
 and admiring the secret ways by which Providence supplies the birds of the air with 
 food, and the benighted traveller with rest, I laid my head on the pillow, and at the 
 end of five minutes, notwithstanding the roaring of the human tempest a few steps 
 from me, I was fast asleep. 
 
 I had not awoke in the morning when my careful jailer came to open the door. 
 "Your mules are saddled," he said, "and the arriCro awaits you in the street." I 
 sprang out of bed, and while dressing asked the mozo if the night had been a bois- 
 terous one. "You shall judge for yourself before you leave," he said. When I had 
 finished my toilet I was going to rejoin my guide, but as I passed the chamber where 
 the banquet and the ball of San Firmin had been held, the mozo who preceded me 
 opened the door. "See!" said he. I put my head in, and a sorry spectacle presented 
 itself. The whole company of the previous evening, then so gay, so noisy, so full of life 
 and health, were lying one over another on the ground. The faces of the women had 
 assumed a greenish hue, while those of the men were purpled. Some, with their mouths 
 open, showed their teeth. Broken chairs, stringless guitars, empty leathern bottles, here 
 and there articles of clothing and objects of the toilet, a net of false hair, a tumbled 
 head-dress, formed the accessories of this picture. A ray of sunlight entering by the 
 window enabled me to see more clearly; but it did not revive these bodies, chilled and 
 stiffened by drunkenness. "Horrible, O horrible, most horrible!" I exclaimed like 
 Macbeth, as I shut the door and sprang down the staircase four steps at a time. 
 Nor Medina was waiting at the door. The mozo who had followed me held the 
 stirrup while I settled myself in the saddle. "Give my compliments to your master 
 when he awakes," I said to the honest garcon : " I will not fail," he replied, laughing. 
 
 As we passed the last houses of Lampa, northward, I recalled to mind that the 
 episodes of the evening had caused me to neglect entering in my diary certain details 
 relative to the commerce, the industry, and the inhabitants of the province. I im- 
 mediately filled up this lacuna, not so much from a love for statistics, or to put myself 
 en regie in respect to learned societies, as to deprive travellers present and to come, 
 commissioned by the latter, of all pretext for dazzling the public by a pompous display 
 of authentic documents, official evidence, and accurate figures. 
 
 The province of Lampa, inclosed by those of Arequipa, Chucuytu, Puno, Azangaro, 
 and Canas y Canchis, occupies an area of about 4000 square miles. In this extent of 
 country, completely denuded of trees and shrubs, but diversified with hill and dale, 
 with ravines and gullies, and furrowed by three rapid streams, 1 are contained one 
 capital city — the town we have just left — forty-three villages — read hamlets of the most 
 
 1 The Puoara-Ayaviri, the rivers of Lampa and Cabanilla, and some streams of less importance. The three first 
 named debouch in the Lake of Titicaca. 
 
AREQUIPA TO LAMPA. 
 
 109 
 
 wretched description — and 108 pascanas or shepherds' lints. The population of 
 the province is about 57,000 souls, and the number of sheep about 400,000. Thanks 
 to the vast deserts carpeted with moss and yarava, interspersed with lagunes of 
 stagnant Mater from one to three leagues in circumference, which characterize the 
 provinces of Collao in general, and that of Lampa in particular, sheep, cattle, and 
 Camelidse cross and multiply marvellously. Butter in bladders, cheeses shaped like 
 
 THE MORNING AFTER THE FESTIVAL OF SAINT FIR.MIN. 
 
 gray ere, smoked mutton (sessina), the beef of oxen and llamas cut into strips (charqui), 
 candied batatas 1 (chuno) — of which we count three varieties, the tunta. the moraya, 
 and the mosco — form the most important branch of the commerce of Lampa with the 
 neighbouring provinces. As for their external trade, the annual shearing of sheep and 
 alpacas, whose wool is bought on the spot by two or three speculators from Arequipa, 
 and by them sent into Europe, enables the Lampenos to boast that their commercial 
 relations extend to the two ends of the world. 
 
 Mining, from which the country once derived large revenues, has decreased year 
 by year. A number of productive mines have been abandoned, others have been 
 submerged by incessant infiltrations from the Andean lakes. Among those which are 
 still worked may be mentioned the eight socabons or galleries of the Cerro of Pomasi, 
 
 1 Biitatat are the "sweet potatoes" that were commonly used m England three centuries ago, not only as pot-herbs, 
 Lut candied, and made into sweatmeats. — Tr. 
 
110 PERU. 
 
 the annual produce of which has decreased from 35,000 marks at the commencement 
 of this century to 8000. This enormous difference in the result is not occasioned, as 
 one might suppose, by the exhaustion of the metallic deposits, but simply by a 
 parsimonious application of the means of working. For a long time labour and capital 
 have both been wanting. Where they once employed entire populations and large 
 sums of money, they are now contented with spending a few hundreds of piastres, and 
 employing a very few labourers. As to the surface workings of minerals, so celebrated 
 in the financial records of the country, when virgin gold and silver were obtained by 
 the simple operation of a chisel or pick, it is now only a thing of memory. Those 
 splendid bolsons, nevei'theless, abound in the mountainous parts of Collao; only the 
 Indians who discover them by chance, or who know of them by hearsay, do not care to 
 reveal their existence to the descendants of the Spaniards. Knowing by tradition all 
 that their ancestors had to suffer from the insatiable greed of their conquerors, and 
 fearing to be employed like them in the labour of the mines, they keep their knowledge 
 to themselves. 
 
 The commerce of Lampa, as we have seen, is very limited. Its industry is 
 confined to the fabrification of the coarser kind of pottery, and hair rugs or coverlets, 
 of which the village of Atuncolla has had the monopoly some two centuries. As 
 to the vegetable products of the soil, they owe nothing to botanical science nor even 
 to culture. In this rigid climate two kinds of potato, the sweet and bitter {papa 
 franca and papa lisa), grow with difficulty. The country also produces a variety of 
 oats, and very poor barley which does not develop spikelets, but is eaten by horses 
 and mules as grass; two Chenopocliums — the one sweet, called quinua real, 1 the other 
 bitter, called cahahua, the grains of which are eaten by the indigenes in their soups, 
 and the leaves in their chupc. 
 
 The statistics I have been able to give, if in all respects trustworthy, are not 
 very flattering; one might even, speaking with strictness, pronounce the account 
 a beggarly one. Yet notwithstanding this poorness of the country, or perhaps by 
 very reason of it, Lampa is of all the sixty-three provinces of Peru, that in which 
 the indigene is best satisfied with his lot and does not count the hours as they roll 
 by. Without ambition and without desires impossible of fulfilment — exempt from 
 cares and disquietudes, disdaining sickness and laughing at death — he lives from 
 day to day in a philosophic calm. In vain insects devour him, and oppression crushes 
 him; in vain his natural masters, the presidents, the bishops, the cures, the sub- 
 prefects, the governors, and the alcaldes, squeeze him like a lemon,— all in vain the 
 military despoil him, and citizens abuse him; he consoles himself for all by a fresh 
 draught of chicha and brandy; by fishing the strawberry and dancing the zapateo. 
 Some pessimist or badly informed travellers have mistaken this quietude of spirit 
 which characterize the Lampenos for brutishness; I avow that it has always appeared 
 to me the highest result of worldly wisdom, and therefore as the height of carnal 
 felicity. If some Jerome Paturot, in his search for happiness, were to travel the whole 
 world over, it is in the province of Lampa that he would certainly find it. 
 
 1 By corruption quinoa. 
 
THIKD STAGE. 
 
 LAM PA TO ACOPIA 
 
 (PERU). 
 
THE PCNA OK PLAIN OF LLALLL 
 
 THIRD STAGE, 
 
 LAMPA TO ACOPIA, 
 
 The plain of Llalli. — How to soften the heart of the Indians and procure a dinner. — Affecting history of a mother- 
 in-law and a daughter-in-law. — Manibus date lilia plenis. — A royal courier. — If day succeeds day in Peru with 
 little in which they resemble each other, village succeeds village with little in which they differ from each other. — 
 Apachecta, a monument crowned with flowers. — Pucara, its etymology and its fair. — A sick man and al doctor. — 
 A new balsamic preparation recommended to any good wife who has a bully for a husband. — Dithyrambic essay 
 on the subject of streams. — Drunken farewells. — The cure Miranda. — A pastoral with a curious accompaniment 
 of stone-throwing. — Santa- Rosa. — A fete in the midst of the snows. — The postmaster of Aguas-Calientes. — Something 
 that distantly resembles the marriage of Gamache le Riche. — The author discloses in a familiar epistle the blackness 
 aud perfidy of his soul. — The temple of Huiracocha. — Two miraculous crucifixes. — Useful notes on the beer of 
 Combapata, and the manner in which it is brewed.— Remarks upon the past history of the Canas and Canchis 
 Indians. — The question arises whether Ca?sar shall pass the Rubicon. — At Acopia. 
 
 If the town of Lampa looks dull when we enter it at nightfall by the pampas of 
 Cabana, it does not present a more brilliant aspect when one leaves it at sunrise 
 by the puna of Llalli. Such was the judgment I formed as the last houses of that 
 capital disappeared from my view, and the two cerros, or low hills, behind them 
 sank in the horizon. 
 
 The puna of Llalli, which Ave now prepared to cross from south to north, is a vast 
 and gently undulating surface, carpeted with moss and short grass, and with a few small 
 sheets of water interspersed, on the margins of which grow thin, rigid, and blackish 
 looking rushes. A silence like that of death reigns in this plain, which is bounded 
 on the west by the first snowy ridges of the Cuesta de la Einconada, 1 and on the east 
 by the rapid stream of Pucara. I should remark that, journeying as we did through 
 the middle of the desert, we could discover neither watercourse nor mountain, and 
 
 1 Recoin, nook or corner: that is to say, the nodus formed by the reunion of the Sierras of C'ailloma aud Huilcanota 
 and the chain of the Western Andes. Junctions of this kind are called porco by the people of the country. 
 vol. i. 15 
 
114 PERU. 
 
 that the landscape as far as we could see embraced nothing but a greenish and far 
 from attractive horizon. Twice or thrice Nor Medina, disquieted by my dulness, 
 had spoken to me, but as all conversation is antipathetic to a fasting man, I had 
 taken no notice of his questions, and the poor fellow, repelled by my obstinacy, 
 began to whistle an air of the country. 
 
 From Lampa to Llalli, the first stage of our route, was about nine miles. We 
 arrived there between eleven and twelve o'clock. Llalli is a little nest of hovels, 
 eight in number, constracted of fragments of stone cemented with mud. The door 
 of one only was open. When we pulled up at the threshold Nor Medina wished to 
 enter alone, fearing that the apparition of a Hueracocha 1 like me would frighten the 
 inmates and deprive us of whatever little chance there was to get a dinner. I let him 
 have his way. A murmur of voices greeted his entrance, and as I listened attentively, 
 thinking them of bad presage, two cries rang in my ears, which I knew to be 
 the cries of women. Forgetting Nor Medina's advice, I sprang from my mule, and 
 entering the house saw indeed two women, one old, the other still young. The old 
 woman, scared and trembling, was hastily closing a sack, in which something was 
 crammed, whilst the younger, w T ith arms extended and flashing eyes, seemed to be 
 saying to Nor Medina, "Stir another step if you dare!" 
 
 " What is the matter?" I demanded of him. 
 
 "The matter is," he replied in Quichua, that the mistresses of the house might 
 understand him, " how to compel these two devilish women here to give us something 
 to eat, and I see no better way," he continued, with an assumed air of severity, " than 
 to tickle their shoulders with my lasso." 
 
 "Wretch, dare to touch either of these women!" I exclaimed, stepping before 
 the arriiro, and menacing him with my clenched fist. 
 
 "Don't you see that I am joking!" he said in Spanish, that the women might not 
 understand him. " I know well enough that a man who deserves the name should 
 never beat any woman but his own, and what I said was only meant to frighten the 
 good old souls and make them agreeable. Already our tigresses have drawn in their 
 claws; see if they have not!" 
 
 The old woman, in fact, was leaning comfortably with her elbows on her sack, 
 and the arms of the younger had fallen supine by her side, whilst the expression 
 of her face had considerably softened. 
 
 "O sovereign law of the whip!" I murmured aside; "dura lex, sed lex; here are 
 two women who, a moment ago, were on the point of flying in our faces like wild 
 cats, suddenly become affable, and almost smiling on us. After all, as La Fontaine 
 has remarked, the reason of the strongest is the best." 
 
 Seeing the happy result of his little comedy, Nor Medina advanced to the old 
 Indian, and opening the sack took from it successively a smoked shoulder of mutton, 
 
 1 This name, say the chroniclers, was at one time given by the Indians of Peru to their Spanish conquerors, 
 whom they believed to have come from the sea like their ships. Huera in the Quichua idiom signifies foam, and 
 cocha or atun-cocha the great lake. This expression, diverted from its original meaning, is now a title of nobility 
 given to the first comers (and their descendants), and eqxiivalent to caballero in Spanish. 
 
LAMPA TO ACOPIA. 
 
 115 
 
 some onions, some dried pimento, and some handfuls of frozen potatoes, 1 which the 
 honest woman had tried to hide from us. Now that the pot of roses was discovered 2 
 it was useless to feign any longer, and the threat of the lasso made resistance next 
 to impossible. The two women, therefore, neither pretended nor resisted; but yielding 
 to the situation, acted their part with something like graciousness. One of them 
 knelt before the fire and revived the embers, whilst the other filled an earthen pot 
 with water and threw into it pell-mell the various ingredients which compose a Peruvian 
 son}) (chape). To the sentiment of repulsion which our appearance had provoked 
 in the two serranas (mountaineers) soon succeeded a touching confidence. Whilst 
 
 A MOTHER-IN-LAW AND HER D AUG H TER-I XL A W — QUICH D A INDIANS. 
 
 the chupe was in preparation they ingenuously told us all their little affairs. The 
 old woman had been long a widow, and longer still a spinster! From morning to 
 night she was employed in spinning the wool of the brown sheep, which she sometimes 
 sold to the inexperienced for llama's wool. Each ball of this caytu-llama, weighing 
 a pound, brought her four reals. With this money she would buy at Lampa — it might 
 be maize to make acca — the chicha of the moderns — or it might be brandy, thirty 
 six degrees above proof. A handful of coca leaves and a few glasses of alcohol 
 restored, for a moment to the poor woman, her past youth and her lost illusions. 
 Speaking in her figurative language, it was, she said, "like pale flowers that she 
 threw upon the setting 3 of her sad life." While listening to her the date Mia of Virgil 4 
 came into my mind and awakened a feeling of tenderness. 
 
 1 Potatoes slightly crushed and exposed for some nights to the frost. Boiled with cheese they are much relished 
 by the inhabitants of the Sierra. 
 
 2 An allusion to a French proverb: dccouvrir le pot aux roses, is to find out a secret. Its equivalent in English 
 is to let the cat out of the bag. — Tr. 
 
 3 The French couchant, used figuratively for the decline of life, cannot be rendered in correct English without 
 spoiling the pathetic beauty of the old woman's expression. — Tr. 
 
 4 jEaeid. vi. 883. Manibus date lilia plenis — give me lilies in handfuls. — Tr. 
 
116 
 
 PERU. 
 
 In her turn the younger woman told us that she was the daughter-in-law of the 
 elder; that like her she passed her time in spinning, and also shared in her peculiar 
 tastes. The produce of their labour, which the two women alike devoted to the 
 purchase of Erythroxylum Coca and strong liqueurs in place of sending it, the one to 
 her son the other to her husband, who demanded it to get drunk with himself, was 
 made by him an occasion of quarrelling with them. As a respectful and obedient son 
 
 THE "ROYAL COURIER." 
 
 he did not dare to abuse his mother, but made no scruple of beating his Avife with 
 his clenched fists. Setting aside these occasional storms in the heaven of Hymen, the 
 young woman assured us that she had nothing to complain of in the behaviour of her 
 lord and master. These local details, which I penned in my note-book at the time, in 
 addition to some philosophical reflections which the circumstances inspired, besides 
 sketching the portraits of the two women, helped to pass away the three-quarters of 
 an hour occupied by the preparation of our dinner. At the end of that time it was 
 served up in an earthenware plate, and we ate it with our fingers. That done, I settled 
 my account with the ladies, and we resumed our journey, followed by their thanks 
 and blessings. 
 
 We had not ridden many yards when the sound of a Pandean pipe was heard. 
 I turned my head in the direction of this harmonious noise, and saw a chasqui coming 
 
LAMPA TO AC O PI A. 
 
 117 
 
 towards us at a pace called in military language the pas gymnastique. He held by the 
 halter a bony horse, on whose back was a leathern trunk containing the postal 
 despatches. 
 
 ' This is the correo real (royal courier), who goes from Puno to Cuzco," said my 
 guide. 
 
 '• Say correo national," I replied. "The word royal is erased, as seditious, from the 
 dictionary of a republic." 
 
 The arriiro looked at me with a surprised air, and was probably about to ask for 
 an explanation of my words when the chasqui came up, and having saluted us by 
 raising his hat and giving a flourish on his mouth-organ, he inquired, in a gracious tone 
 for a courier, whence we came, and whether we were going to Cuzco. My guide 
 
 ssss 
 
 PAMPA OF LLALLI — VILLAGES OF CUPI AND D'OCUVIRI. 
 
 answered these questions, and the two men began to chat in a friendly way about the 
 snow and the frost, the break-neck route of the Sierra and the lack of provisions — 
 things which I had long been familiar with. When they had exhausted these conver- 
 sational topics, finding nothing more to say, they parted, each recommending the other 
 to God, and civilly exchanging a few coca-leaves, as two snuff-takers in Europe might 
 offer each other their snuff-boxes. The courier, losing no more time than was necessary 
 to exchange his old chew for a more juicy one, and saluting us by whistling the scale 
 up and down on his mouth-organ, trotted off with his hair streaming in the wind. 
 
 Two hours after this rencontre we were passing between Cupi and Ocuviri, two 
 groups of cabins, highly distinguished by the name of villages, and so exactly alike, 
 that it was easy to make a mistake at night, and dismount in the one instead of the 
 other. By daylight their situation in relation to the road assisted the traveller going 
 northward to distinguish them, Ocuviri being on his right and Cupi on his left. My 
 companion, to whom I pointed out the singular sameness of these mole-hill hamlets, 
 in which every door was shut, admitted that they had a family likeness, but then, he 
 added, this similarity with which I appeared to make merry, was precisely that which 
 gave to the cities and villages of Peru a special stamp unlike anything in the neigh- 
 
118 PERU. 
 
 bouring republics. No doubt the man had a fine classic taste and a love for the 
 unities, without which it is said there is no such thing as perfect beauty. I did not 
 contradict him. 
 
 The same day we roused successively the hamlets of Macari and Umaehiri, as 
 silent and close as those we had left behind us, and, like them, of singular ugliness. 
 A league from Umaehiri we passed before an apachecta, which an Indian and a woman 
 who accompanied him in charge of a troop of llamas, had just then approached for 
 the purpose of spitting out, by way of an offering, the cud of coca they had been 
 chewing. This fashion of thanking Pachacamac, the omnipotent, for having arrived 
 safely at the end of a journey, always appeared to me no less original than disgusting. 
 After all, however, as every country has its customs, which are either respectable or 
 ought to be resjDected, we will tfot criticize this act of worship, but, passing from the 
 effect to the cause, consider the character of the monument itself. 
 
 The word apachecta, which is easier to translate than to analyze, signifies in the 
 Quichua idiom a place of halting or repose. The cemeteries which the Spaniards 
 sometimes call pantheon and sometimes cawpo-santo, bear among the Indians the 
 name of ajxichecta. As to the monument in question, it is composed at first of 
 a handful of stones, that a chasqui, an arruro, or a llama packman, who had rested 
 there a moment, deposited at the road-side, as a tribute of gratitude paid ostensibly 
 to Pachacamac the Creator and Lord of the universe. Days and even months might 
 roll on before a second Indian by chance passing the same place, and seeing the 
 stones collected by his predecessor, adds a few to the heap. In time the handful of 
 stones becomes a pyramid of from eight to ten feet in height, which the passers-by, 
 as it increases in size, cement Avith mud if it happens to be a rainy day. When 
 the work is thus finished, some unknown hand places on its summit the sign of 
 salvation; another adds a bouquet of flowers; the flowers wither and are renewed 
 by successive worshippers ; their degree of freshness indicating that the route is 
 a more or less frequented one. 
 
 Often I have stopped before these monuments, not to worship Pachacamac — a god 
 of whom I know nothing — but to examine the flowers placed on their summit. These 
 flowers were white lilies, Heliconias, Erythrinae (coral -trees) of a reddish purple, and 
 red Amaryllides with green striae, which grow under the shadow of the shrubs in the 
 eastern valleys. From the place where they were taken to the apachecta where I 
 have found them, the distance, approximately estimated, was from 90 to 120 miles. 
 
 These monuments, which a learned European took off-hand for tumuli, and an 
 employe of the survey for milestones, arrest attention not so much by their architectural 
 character, as by the singular appearance of the greenish splashes, with which they are 
 literally covered from the base to the summit. These splashes or blotches are caused 
 by the number of Indians who have passed by, and who thought they were performing 
 a religious act by spitting against the monument the coca they were chewing. 
 
 Hearing us approach, the Indian and his wife, who had resumed their journey, 
 halted a moment to see us pass. While looking at us with a wondering air, they did 
 not forget to salute us with an alii llamanta, at the same time raising their hats. The 
 
LAM PA TO ACOPIA. 
 
 11 J) 
 
 llamas had halted also like their masters, but, less polite than the latter, they were 
 contented to gaze upon us with their soft unimpassioned eyes, without honouring- us 
 with any salute whatever. By nightfall we arrived at Pucara, having travelled nine 
 Spanish leagues, equal to twelve French leagues or thirty-six miles, across the Puna. 
 
 Pucara was once an isolated point of the territory occupied by the Ayaviri Indians. 
 About the close of the twelfth century Lloqui Yupanqui, the third emperor of Peru, 
 
 APAOHECTA, OK WAYSIDE ORATORY OF THE QUICHUA INDIANS. 
 
 having subjugated these natives after a bloody struggle, built a fortress here, in which 
 he placed a garrison to keep them in awe. Four centuries later, in the partisan Avars 
 provoked of the Spaniards, this same Pucara witnessed the defeat of the Spanish 
 captain Francisco Hernandez Giron. 
 
 The site of the old Pucara is now occupied by a dull village of that name, con- 
 taining about a hundred dwellings built half of mud, half of unburned bricks (tapias), and 
 covered with that stubble of the Cordillera which the Indians call ichu, and botanists 
 jarava. The village has no other claim to attention than its comparatively large 
 church, characterized by two square towers with a triangular pediment of wood and 
 mud; its river, which for want of a bridge one has to cross when it is Hooded by 
 using bundles of rushes as stepping-stones; and its fair, which is held every year 
 in December. This fair, like that of Vilqua, is one of the most important in Peru. 
 
120 PERU. 
 
 Great numbers of mules nearly in a wild state are brought there from all parts of 
 the country; but the dealer breaks them in on the spot before delivering them to 
 the buyer. Under temporary sheds and screens, or covered waggons transformed 
 into shops, decorated Avith coloured calico and cut paper, all manner of true and 
 false jewelry, porcelain and crockery, glass and stone ware, cloths and silks, woollen 
 and cotton goods, articles of cutlery and ironmongery, toy-ware, and other products 
 of European industry, are displayed in the most attractive manner to dazzle the eyes 
 of the natives. 
 
 In the midst of this vast bazaar — a commercial and industrial Babel, to the building 
 of which all the nations of the globe had contributed their quota and furnished their 
 stone — a stone of stumbling, it is true — tables for monte, nine-pins, bowls, marionnettes 
 (fantoccini shows), conjurers, mountebanks whose grotesque artifices were transparent 
 enough, drew around them the knowing ones from the towns, and made the Indians 
 of the Sierras gape with admiration. Vendors of cakes, fruits, and sherbets, and sellers 
 of fried fish, were stationed in the most frequented places, or pushed their way through 
 the crowd, shouting, gesticulating, and proclaiming in loud tones the quality of their 
 wares, and occasionally wiping with their shirt-tails the tray or the table upon which 
 those wares were displayed. Every cottage in the village, every petty cabaret and 
 eating-house, was transformed at night into a ball-room with the simplicity and rapidity 
 of a change in a pantomime. They removed the tables, stuck a couple of tallow-candles 
 against the walls, substituted a guitar for the porridge-pot, and all was ready for the 
 dance, which went on merrily till the morning. 
 
 During the fifteen days that this fair lasts, the echoes of the Puna, accustomed to 
 repeat only the lowing of herds and the sighs of the wind, resound with the rolling 
 of drums, the tooting of tin trumpets, the hollow roaring of pututus (horns of Amnion), 
 the melodious notes of the queyna and of the pincullu (two kinds of flutes or flageolets), 
 and the strumming of the charango, the national three-stringed guitar, made by the 
 Indians themselves with the half of a calabash, to which they attach a handle, and 
 strung with catgut. The roaring of the crowd, the barking of clogs, the neighing of 
 horses and mules, the hissing of frying-pans, and the crackling of fires kindled in the 
 open air, form the bass of the wild concert. The amount of beef, mutton, llama's flesh, 
 chickens, and guinea-pigs, devoured during the fifteen days of the fair, would serve to 
 provision a German duchy for a year. As for the quantity of brandy consumed, it is 
 not possible to be exact, but we shall not be far wrong in believing that it would suffice 
 to supply three rations a day to the crew of a fleet during its circumnavigation of 
 the globe. 
 
 Nothing of this kind was to be seen on our visit. It was the 8th of July, and 
 the period of these alien saturnalias was yet distant. Some holes in which the poles 
 had been erected, beef and mutton bones picked clean by poultry, here and there the 
 blackened traces left by the fires, alone marked out the scene of the last annual fete. 
 The crowd and the noise had vanished like a dream, and silence had resumed pos- 
 session of the locality. Sic transit gloria mundi, I said to myself, as I dismounted 
 at the door of the post-station where we had to pass the night, 
 
16 
 
LAMPA TO ACOPIA. 
 
 123 
 
 With little difficulty we obtained, by paying for it, a little dried beef (charqui) and 
 some frozen batatas. The water of the river sufficed to quench our thirst, After 
 supper, one of the Indians seeing me scribble in my note-book, imagined I could be 
 nothing less than a savant and hrujo (sorcerer), for with this simple people science 
 and sorcery are synonymous. lie asked me if I did not possess in my bag of charms 
 a remedy which would heal or relieve the postmaster, who was lying ill in the 
 next room. I learned the nature of the complaint from which he was suffering by 
 a species of pantomime. The Indian, not knowing what to call it, inflated his cheeks 
 like iEolus: "Voila!" said he, making a comic gesture; I understood at once that the 
 
 .; 
 
 * 
 
 A. SICK MAN AND HIS DOCTOR. 
 
 man was suffering from some kind of tumour or abscess. Entering the room we found 
 the invalid reclining on a truckle-bed with a woollen coverlet. One of his cheeks 
 was so swollen that the eye could not be seen. So violent was the tension of the skin, 
 that it had displaced the nose, drawn up the mouth, and altogether made the poor 
 fellow look like one of those india-rubber dolls, to which we can give any expression we 
 please by pressing it with the fingers. Only the grimace of the postmaster was fixed! 
 
 "What is to be done?" asked the Indian. 
 
 " For the moment," I replied, " I see nothing better than to keep him out of a 
 draught, and apply a poultice of mallow-leaves or bread and milk." 
 
 The Indian looked at me cunningly. 
 
 "Bread and milk!" he said, "why, we make pap of that for huahuas (infants). 
 Have you nothing better to propose?" 
 
 "Absolutely nothing," I said. 
 
 "In that case I have a better remedy myself." 
 
 "Apply it then," I replied, turning my back on him, and leaving him with the sick 
 man, whose condition, I ought to say, was not at all alarming. 
 
124 PERU. 
 
 The next moment as I was preparing to lie down, the Indian re-entered with an 
 earthenware plate which he placed on the fire, and in which he put to melt a 
 bit of fat or grease, together with some bruised coca-leaves and a pinch of ashes 
 from the hearth. He stirred the whole up with a bit of wood; then, when he thought 
 his mixture was properly cooked, he turned it into a wooden bowl, which he filled up 
 with chicha. 
 
 "What are you messing with there?" I asked him. 
 
 "This is my remedy," he replied, gravely. 
 
 "The d it is; and how do you apply your remedy?" 
 
 "I will ffive him the half of it to drink and wash his face with the other half." 
 
 When I left Pucara in the morning the man was better, which the reader may 
 attribute to the "remedy" or not, as he pleases. For an hour we followed the course 
 of the river. There is nothing more fresh and delightful than these Andean torrents in 
 a time of drought; now they flow gently over a white or golden sand, now they hurtle 
 with a soft murmur against the polished stones, and seem to complain in the notes of 
 turtle-doves of the obstacles which obstruct their course. Every passing cloud mirrors 
 itself in the pellucid water for an instant, and throws upon it a slight shadow. There 
 the sun breaks his golden arrows, the moon flings her silver rays, and the vultures and 
 condors come to make their toilet. In a moment, however, these wayward streams, 
 peaceful as they look, may be lashed to fury. Leaving the course marked out for them 
 by nature, their spreading waters rush impetuously over the plain, rolling in their course 
 enormous blocks of stone, carrying away pell-mell sheep and shepherds, even the bridges 
 of stone and mud-built cottages which they encounter in their passage. These formidable 
 floods are occasioned by the sudden melting of the snows of the Sierra. They last from 
 eighteen to twenty-four hours, and take place in the middle of the night or early 
 morning, rather than when the sun is above the horizon. 1 
 
 About six miles from Pucara we witnessed, though at too great a distance to 
 appreciate the details, one of those cacharpavis, or farewell festivals, so frequent in the 
 Sierra between Indians of the same village when they are about to separate for some 
 time. These adieus would make one's heart ache if we did not know that in the 
 chymic composition of the tears which accompany them, there is much more chicha and 
 brandy than any other constituent. The parting, in fact, is only a pretext for an orgie 
 on both sides. Following the custom of ages, the travellers quit their homes in com- 
 pany with relations and friends of both sexes, and supplied with provisions both solid 
 and liquid. They halt at a place previously agreed upon, and, seated in a circle, 
 begin to eat and drink. They drink much more than they eat, and at the end of their 
 lunch, dance the zapateo to the sound of the flute and guitar. When the moment of 
 parting arrives, or the liquor fails, they begin a lament, in which each emulates the 
 
 1 I have often witnessed inundations of this kind, apart from the great annua] thaw of the snows of the Cordillera 
 in January and December. The river, which I have left calmly reposing on its bed in the evening, has swollen suddenly 
 during the night, and on the next day overflowed the country. But as these anomalous floods were preceded or followed 
 by earthquakes, which more often occur in the evening or before daj-break than in the middle of the day, I have con- 
 cluded, rightly or wrongly, that this partial melting of the snows of the Sierra was occasioned by the heat which the 
 volcanic phenomena suddenly determined on the strata which form, so to speak, the foundation of the Andean chain. 
 
LAMPA TO ACOPIA. 
 
 1 25 
 
 other in deploring their hard fate. The men weep and raise their hands to heaven; 
 the women utter piercing cries and tear their hair. At last the critical moment arrives, 
 the last embrace is given, the stirrup-cup is drunk, if anything should he left to drink, 
 ami with a supreme effort they tear themselves from each other's arms. When fairly 
 on their way the travellers often look back and see from a long distance, on some rising 
 ground or rock, the relations and friends they have left behind, giving way to the most 
 
 THE CACIIAIiPAKr, OK FAREWELL FESTIVAL OF THE QUICHUA INDIANS. 
 
 violent grief, and saluting them by waving a rag of baize in default of a handkerchief. 
 These cacharparis are sometimes repeated at several stages, that is to say, they finish 
 at one point to recommence at another, and are even known to extend over three days 
 and nights, obliging the travellers to postpone their actual departure to the eighth day, 
 so' much has excess of emotion and brandy impaired their strength. 
 
 Although a distance of a hundred yards separated us from the actors in this 
 familiar drama, and the departing travellers were nearly out of sight on our left, my 
 companion, as familiar with all that occurs in the Cordillera as a savage with the forest, 
 did not hesitate to reply, when I asked him who these people were: "These are 
 Indians of Pujuja or Caminaca whom the sub-prefect of Lampa has sent to work in 
 some mine of the Ray a." 
 
 Ayaviri, where we arrived about four o'clock, is a village of the same family as 
 
126 
 
 PERU. 
 
 those which we had left behind us. Its situation upon the left bank of the river of 
 Pncara, a wooden bridge, a good sized church built of stone and mud Avithout the least 
 pretensions to style, and a school where twenty pupils, taken from the populations of 
 Pucara, Ayaviri, and Santa Eosa, learn to spell out, correctly or incorrectly, the Psalms 
 of David translated into Castilian, and to repeat from memory the Paternoster and 
 Ave Marin, are the only peculiarities which recommend to the attention of statisticians 
 this group of about eighty cottages. As a faithful chronicler I must add that the 
 pedagogue charged with the duty of instructing and training the youth of the country 
 
 DON CALIXTO MIRANDA, THE CURE OF ATAVIRT. 
 
 amuses himself with a little quiet trade in wool, butter, and cheese, which often obliges 
 him to lie absent; at such times the doors of the school remain closed, like those of the 
 temple of Janus in times of peace. Some families of half-breeds, the only aristocracy 
 of the country, are a little indignant at these doings of the schoolmaster; not so the 
 children, who are delivered for a time from their daily recitations, and the coscorron^ 
 with which the lessons are often accompanied. I do not know what profit the master 
 may get from his commercial transactions, but his scholastic sinecure is worth £GQ 
 per annum. 
 
 These details were given to me by the cure of the place, to whom I had civilly 
 presented a cigarette in exchange for his polite salutation in front of the church, 
 where I was pretending to admire some imaginary sculptures — an innocent trick by 
 which I hoped to render myself agreeable to the pastor, and get into his good graces. 
 
 1 Coscorron, a kind of blow with the fist which Peruvian schoolmasters give their scholars in place of using the ferule. 
 I say, a kind of blow, because in the coscorron the fist is not fairly doubled as when the puhetazo, or ordinary blow with 
 the fist, is given, but the middle finger is bent upon itself in such a way that the middle joint sticks out. Besides, 
 the coscorron is delivered upon the scholar's head, never elsewhere, and not perpendicularly or horizontally, but obliquely, 
 so as to produce a contusion, which is followed by extravasation. Fathers of families will excuse the length of these 
 details. 
 
LAMPA TO ACOPIA. 127 
 
 For an instant I flattered myself I bad succeeded. Not only did he entertain me 
 with his personal affairs, but he related those of his coadjutors, and especially of the 
 schoolmaster, whom he described as a govreton, or poor-spirited fellow. Without 
 troubling myself with the motives which the cure might have for his confidence, I 
 pretended to be quite charmed with it, and in my turn confided to him that I was 
 dying of exhaustion; having had nothing to eat during the day but the half of a soft 
 cheese bought at a shepherd's hut which we had found en route. My expectation of 
 an invitation to some kind of repast with the holy man was, however, disappointed. 
 After a half-hour's conversation, he politely saluted me, and resumed with slow steps 
 his walk to his presbytery. The name of this charitable priest, which I learned from 
 the Indians at the post-house, was Don Calixto Miranda. May it be immortalized 
 in my humble prose, in which hope I have inserted it in italics ! 
 
 The next day at eight o'clock we were already far from Ayaviri, when I remem- 
 bered that this town or village, call it what we will, had secured a place in the annals 
 of Peru by the successive rebellions of its native inhabitants against the emperors 
 Lloqui Yupanqui and Mayta Capac, who lived in the twelfth century. In 1780 also, 
 Tupac- Amaru, a cacicpie descended from these emperors, tried to raise the inhabitants 
 of Ayaviri against the viceroys, an attempt which he expiated by a frightful death 
 at Cuzco. After being dismembered (ecartele) his trunk was burned on the heights 
 of that city, while the members were distributed to the towns which he had excited 
 to insurrection. Santa Rosa, the nearest town to Ayaviri, had for its share one of 
 the legs of the unhappy cacique. Four years after the battle of Ayacucho, and the 
 extinction of the royalist party, General Bolivar, at the suggestion of his friend 
 Alexander Von Humboldt, having caused a geodesic survey to be executed by Lloyd 
 and Falmarc, upon a line of thirty myriametres (about 180 miles), Ayaviri had been 
 one of the 910 stations set out on that line. With such illustrious antecedents, the 
 place was certainly entitled to a few Avords in my note-book; but half from idleness, 
 half from spleen against the cure Miranda, I left the aforesaid book at the bottom 
 of my bag, judging it useless to devote any space, however short, to a place which 
 had for its spiritual ruler so inhospitable a priest. 
 
 On leaving Ayaviri, the landscape acquired Movement, as painters say; the hills 
 drew together, they Avere connected by their base at some points, and heaped together 
 at others; their undulations stretching from north-west to south-east. Could a bird's- 
 eye view have been taken of these irregularities of the soil, they would have presented 
 the appearance of a sea, the waves of which had been fixed. Totally devoid of trees 
 and shrubs, there was nothing to animate the landscape, for long distances, but herds 
 of oxen or flocks of sheep, and troops of llamas and alpacas feeding at various points. 
 Now and then a pascana, or shepherd's hut, with its roof of stubble and its door so 
 low that one can only enter by crawling, presented itself, but this was seldom. In 
 passing a troglodytic den of this kind, you would naturally look for the inhabitant, 
 with the idea of exchanging a friendly good-day, or of buying a cheese. He is not 
 there; but while you are lamenting the mischance, the sound of a flute is heard over- 
 head; looking up you will discover perched upon a rock the shepherd playing on a flute 
 
128 
 
 PERU. 
 
 or flageolet. If you possess a little imagination, and ever so small an animal with 
 horns is feeding at the foot of the rock, yon will picture to yourself Argos and the 
 cow Io. Mercurius septem mulcet arundinibus, you repeat after Virgil. This tribute 
 paid to the eclogue, you ask the shepherd to stop his tootling and sell you one of the 
 cheeses which he employs his leisure in making. He seems not to understand you. 
 liaising your voice, you request him to come down from his pedestal; you show him 
 a piece of money, and add that you have no time to wait. A sustained trill is the 
 only response the man vouchsafes. Getting impatient, you spring from your mule; 
 "Eh! sconndrcl!" you cry, at the same time throwing a stone at the shepherd to 
 
 A SHEPHERD'S HUT IN THE SIEKHA NEVADA. 
 
 attract his attention. If he is naturally of an amiable disposition he takes the hint, 
 puts his flute under his arm, and comes smiling to meet you. But more often he is 
 surly and unsociable, and as he usually has his pockets filled with stones to throw 
 at the beasts when they stray away, he instantly seizes his sling and lets fly at his 
 interlocutor. In such a case you have only one way of escaping the storm; that is, 
 to put spurs to your mule and ride away as fast as possible. 
 
 I hardly know at this distance of time if we had anything to eat that day, but I 
 well remember that we arrived at Santa Rosa quite famished and benumbed. A fire 
 of bosta in the post house, and some llama's flesh cut into strips and dried in the sun, 
 of which they sold us a few yards, helped to keep the cold and hunger at bay. 
 Santa Rosa, like Ayaviri and Pucara, is one of those dull-looking villages which seem 
 rather intended for the discipline of criminals than the abode of honest people. The 
 river runs through the middle of the village, and its murmur, which anywhere else 
 would be cheerful and harmonious, is here only one sadness the more. It is as if 
 the voice of Nature bewailed herself eternally in this solitude. Let us add that Santa 
 Rosa is of all the places we have passed through the coldest and least sheltered 
 
l.AMPA TO ACOPIA. 
 
 129 
 
 from the storms of the Cordillera, built as it is at the foot of the snowy chain of 
 lluilcanota. As a trilling consolation it possesses a large church with square towers, 
 a pediment, and something in the likeness of acroteral ornaments; but the facade is 
 
 SHEPHERDS OF THE SIERKA NEVADA. 
 
 cracked, the pediment is broken, and the towers gape with more than one crevice, 
 so that the wood and the mud employed in their construction are distinctly visible. 
 
 By the unaccustomed movement that evening in the post house of Santa Rosa, 
 by the sparkling eyes of the Indians, and the vivacity of their gestures, above all by 
 the unusually loud tone of their voices, I surmised that some bacchic festival had 
 taken place during the day. On epiestioning the least drunken of the company, he 
 told me that he had been drinking the blood of Jesus Christ. As his reply seemed 
 as absurd as it was unintelligible, I begged him to explain; when he told me that 
 
 VOL. I. 17 
 
130 PERU. 
 
 a neighbouring estancia, of the name of Puncullutu, had for patron la sangre de Jesus 
 Crista, of which the festival was being celebrated by dancing, and drinking, and various 
 sports. To give more pomp to this religious solemnity, the inhabitants of Santa Eosa 
 had united with the Indian estantiero (farm-bailiffs). My informant added that "the 
 festival had only commenced the day before and would last two days longer, and as 
 the estancia of Funcullutu was on our road I should be able to judge for myself of 
 the grand style in which the Indians of this domain did things." I thanked the 
 drunken fellow for his information, and went to bed a few steps from Nor Medina, 
 who was already as fast as a top. 
 
 When we left the next morning the Indians of the post-house, who had passed the 
 night in drinking and chewing coca, were asleep on the ground, wrapped in their 
 ponchos. Among the pedestrians of both sexes with whom we mingled on the road, 
 some Mere returning from Puncullutu to Santa Eosa; others, on the contrary, were 
 going from Santa Eosa to Puncullutu. In this chasse-croise all as they passed ex- 
 changed a salutation, a burst of laughter, or a merry phrase. The former plodded 
 along with an uncertain step, the latter footed it nimbly. These, full of illusions, 
 sprung joyously towards the goal; those had touched it, and were returning on their 
 path fatigued and disgusted with themselves. Such is life with its opposite currents, 
 I said to myself, at the sight of these indigenes, one half of whom stumbled along, 
 while jihe other half walked straight, A reveillie sounded by tin trumpets reached our 
 ears as the harmonious prelude of the local fete. We pushed on our beasts, and the 
 inspiriting fanfare was soon succeeded by the mingled sound of drums and flutes. 
 After a ten minutes' rapid trot, we arrived at the foot of a hill surrounded with snow. 
 A hundred Indians were assembled, and had just commenced the day's revels. 
 
 At the summit of the eminence an altar had been set up. It was made of planks, 
 imperfectly concealed by the draperies of the local calico called tocuyo, over which 
 were pinned cotton handkerchiefs of a blue and red square pattern, which gave it a 
 cheerful look. A frame of osiers, of an elliptic form, ornamented with ribbons, mirrors, 
 flags, and streamers of the Peruvian colours, formed a kind of reredos to this rustic 
 altar. An artificial tree stood at each corner of the platform. When I say artificial, 
 I must explain that the trees were nothing but sticks fixed in the ground, and crowned, 
 in place of foliage, with a bunch of those reeds which grow on the shores of ponds or 
 lakes. One might have called them four gigantic brooms. Although it was but early 
 morning, and the cold was piercing, the female chicha-sellers were already at then- 
 posts, and their admirers with empty purses were fluttei'ing around them with no 
 other amorous intention than that of getting drunk on credit. Some musicians, 
 trumpeters and flutists, in order to give their lips the inflation and elasticity necessary 
 for blowing a wind-instrument, applied them from time to time to the mouth of a 
 gourd filled with tafia, which some among them carried saltier-wise, like St. James 
 of Compostella. One of these artists leaned over an empty jar in which he was 
 blowing his flageolet, and thus filled with harmony, instead of liquid, the dark interior 
 of the vessel. This kind of melody, little known in Europe, is used in the Sierra at 
 funerals for threnodies, or laments, which the living are supposed to address to the 
 
 
LAMPA TO ACOPIA. 1H0 
 
 dead. Flageolets of different tones, with their months in various sized pitchers or 
 jars, are played by fits and starts, passing suddenly from grave to sharp, or from sharp 
 to grave, and are supposed to express, by the frightful charivari they keep up, the 
 trouble, the grief, and the heart-rending affliction of the human soul when constrained 
 to separate for ever from the object of its affection. 
 
 After having sufficiently enjoyed the spectacle of the fete, and commenced a sketch 
 which the cold prevented me from finishing, I signed to Nor Medina, who appeared to 
 be highly amused with the scene, that it was time to turn our backs upon it, and 
 continue our journey. 
 
 "At five o'clock in the evening the fete "will be at its height," he said, with a sigh 
 of regret. 
 
 "Alas!" I said, sighing also, "the vultures alone will be able to judge, for every 
 one here will be dead drunk, and unable to distinguish their right hand from their left." 
 
 On leaving Santa Eosa the gradually diminishing breadth of its stream indicates 
 that we are approaching its source. It is here necessary to observe that all the rivers 
 and streams of Peru take their name from the village by which they flow, an absurdity 
 which throws the geography of the country into confusion. Thus the river of Santa 
 Rosa becomes in succession the Ayaviri, the Pucara, the Nicasio, and the Calapuja. 
 After two hours' march along the course of this river northward, and after having sur- 
 mounted the Cordillera of Huilcanota, which the map-makers and inhabitants of the 
 country call by corruption Vilcanota, and which at this spot is called the Rat/a, 1 we came 
 to a plateau of irregular form, where two little lakes, of some miles in circumference, 
 spread their mirror-like waters. The southernmost of these lakes, called the Sissacocha 
 (Lake of the Flower), overflows in a thin stream, which is augmented in its course by 
 two torrents from the Cordillera. This is the river we had followed from Santa Eosa, 
 and crossed at Ayaviri. At some fifty miles from Pucara it receives the two rivers, 
 already united in one, of Lampa and Cabanilla, and continues its course to the Lake of 
 Titicaca, in which it debouches near San Taraco, a village of the province of Azangaro. 
 
 The second lake, situated on the north side of the plateau, and named Huilcacocha 
 (Lake of Huilca), 2 gives birth to a stream which is enlarged some leagues further down 
 by the overflow of the lagune of Langui, and takes the name of Ffuilca-Mayo (River of 
 Huilca), which it soon exchanges for another. After a course of about 900 miles, it 
 flows, under the name of the Rio de Santa Ana, into the Apurimac. 
 
 As I had long been familiar with this locality, I merely glanced at the two lakes 
 with an absent look as I passed by. I observed, however, that their waters reflected 
 the tint of a cloudy sky, and were therefore of a leaden colour. I was in haste to 
 
 1 For tlie Spanish word raya (ray, limit, dividing line), by which the inhabitants of the country designate this 
 passage of the Cordillera of Huilca, the Indians substitute nota, which in the Quichua idiom has the same signification 
 as raya in Spanish : hence Huilcanota, or the boundary line of Huilca. 
 
 2 The Huilca, or as corrupted, Yilca, is a tree of the natural order of Leguininosx, division ilimosce. In the Argentine 
 provinces it is known as the algaroba; it is very common thei'e, and the pulp contained in its pods is used to make 
 brandy. On the other hand, it is rare in Peru ; the hot valleys on the Pacific coast are the only places in which I have 
 found it. How to explain its existence in the midst of the snows of Huilcanota, and to account for its name being 
 given to that chain of the Cordillera, is out of my power — the thing seems absolutely inexplicable. 
 
m 
 
 PERU. 
 
 reach the post of Aguas-Calientes, 1 to get a morsel of something to eat, and, after a 
 night's rest, have done with the region of the Punas, of which I was getting rather 
 tired. We reached the little station about the close of day, and found its occupants 
 in a state of anxious expectation of a great event, 
 
 An ex-prefect of Ayacucho, who had become a general of division owing to some 
 political accident, and was charged by the government with a secret mission to the 
 Sierra, was expected to halt at Aguas-Calientes, and stay there some four-and-twenty 
 hours. The postmaster and several women, who had trudged on purpose all the way 
 from Layo and Langui, villages about eighteen miles distant, were in the midst of a 
 lively discussion about the ceremonial to be observed on this occasion. They thought 
 
 THE LAKES OF SISSACOCHA AND HCILCACOCHA, ON THE RATA fLATEAD, 
 
 nothing less would do than to hang the cracked walls of the station with a tapestry 
 of baize and calico, hoist a pennon above the roof, and strew with green rushes the 
 approaches by which his excellency would arrive. Some spirited old dames proposed 
 to dress themselves in red and white, the national colours, and thus attired go to meet 
 the great man, ami dance before him as he approached. As usual, the jug of chicha 
 and the brandy bottle went the round, and each in turn had some ingenious idea 
 or fresh advice to give. 
 
 This supposed question of etiquette so absorbed their attention that not one of 
 the company noticed my arrival, or if they were aware of the fact they pretended 
 otherwise. I waited patiently some minutes till the master of the post, a fat and 
 ruddy-faced Indian whose Mack tresses hung almost to the ground, should deign to 
 turn his head. Seeing this hope was in vain, I made my presence known by a friendly 
 tap on his hat, which, whether the said hat was a little too large for the oblong head it 
 
 1 This name is derived from a spring of hot water which conies iu slender jets from a rock level with the ground, 
 about two hundred yards eastward from the post-house. 
 
LAM PA TO ACOPIA. 135 
 
 covered, or that my hand was a little too heavy, descended suddenly upon the Indian's 
 nose, the contour of which resembled an eagle's beak, and there lodged. His astonish- 
 ment was great, to judge by the way he swore before he saw daylight again. 
 
 "God be with you!" I said, in the idiom of the Children of the Sun, while he 
 disembarrassed himself of his hat, and looked at me at once wondcringly and wrath- 
 fnlly. "I have come from Santa Rosa, and am dying of hunger; can't you get me 
 something to eat?" 
 
 " Manancancha, manamounanicha? go to the devil, and let me alone!" he replied. 
 
 I philosophically allowed this ebullition of bile to pass unnoticed. 
 
 "Now listen," I said; "your conversation with these mamacwias" 2 — so I designated 
 
 the group of gossips — "has made me aware that General L is on his way to 
 
 Collao, and will halt at the post of Aguas-Calientes. The general is one of my friends. 
 Some time ago I retouched a portrait which he did not think sufficiently like him, and 
 lengthened by six inches the epaulettes of his uniform, which he thought too short. 
 I have besides given to his wife the recipe of a wonderful paste to make a lovely pink 
 and white, and I have taught her three daughters the difficult art of selecting the 
 proper colours for their toilet, of which before they knew nothing. You see then the 
 general and his family are under obligations to me. . . ." 
 
 Here I purposely made a slight pause to give the Indian time to digest my words. 
 
 "True, very true," he said, "thou art a friend of his excellency." 
 
 "It is so true," I replied, with freezing dignity, "that I think of staying here till 
 the general arrives; not to congratulate him on his new dignity, or to help you with 
 my advice on the subject of the reception you are preparing for him, but to beg 
 my worthy friend to let one of his soldiers dust your back with a twisted strap, to 
 teach you the civility of which you are ignorant and the laws of hospitality which you 
 have outraged." 
 
 "No, tayta; no, taytachay; 3 you will not beat a poor pongo' who never did you any 
 harm!" 
 
 1 There is nothing— I will not. These two phrases require explaining. When, travelling in the Cordilleras, one asks 
 an Indian to sell a sheep out of his flock, to avoid dying of hunger, his invariable answer is, Hanancancha — There is none. 
 Naturally you give the lie to his assertion by pointing to two or three hundred sheep feeding around him. He then 
 replies : Manamounanicha — I will not. These are the only words that can be extracted from him. In such a case the 
 only way to get out of the embarrassment is to select, through the agency of the niozo or muleteer who accompanies us, 
 a nice fat sheep, have it killed and skinned on the spot without listening to the abuse of the proprietor, who, obliged to 
 submit to force, cries, groans, and shows every sign of exasperated grief. When the sheep is cut up you pay four reals 
 (the regular price) to the owner, to whom also one generously abandons the head, the feet, and the intestines of the 
 beast, to make a chupe. In a twinkling he passes from the bitterest distress to the liveliest joy ; he thanks the traveller 
 a hundred times, kisses his hand or the stuff of his poncho, lavishes upon him the most gratifying and endearing 
 epithets, and ends by wishing him every possible blessing. If a few conscientious travellers honestly pay the shepherd 
 for what they take, it must be remembered that the greater number simply help themselves, and push their liberality 
 so far as to beat the proprietor of the animal into the bargain. 
 
 - Mama, mother; cuna, plural article of two genders. The name of mama is generally given to Indian women of a 
 certain age. 
 
 3 Tayta, father; taytachay, dear little father. 
 
 4 In the great cities, pougos are Indians of the lower class, who very reasonably value their services at fifteen francs 
 a month. They are employed indoors to carry wood and water; to sweep the stones, and to open and close the entrance 
 gate, behind which they sleep squatting. Their name of pongo is derived from piiaca, gate, by corruption pongo. They 
 are the porters of the country. 
 
136 PERU. 
 
 In his terror of the strap, the man descended voluntarily from the dignity of 
 postmaster to the condition of a pongo. Such accesses of humility are frequent 
 among the Indian caste, and I am not surprised at it. The end that I proposed to 
 attain, and which I had partly attained, had otherwise claimed all my attention. I 
 replied then to the postmaster, who had seized the fringe of my poncho, and whose 
 eyes glared and nostrils trembled with the fear of the vengeance I had threatened. 
 
 "I believe I told you that I am hungry. As you must have some provisions in 
 the house you will prepare a rftiqw as savoury as possible ; you will give dry 
 fodder to my mules, and to-morrow before leaving I will settle for that little matter. 
 As to the general, do not trouble yourself to prepare a surprise for him. I will 
 write a line or two that will induce him to dispense with any ceremony on his 
 account. 
 
 The postmaster let go the border of my poncho, overcome with joy. 
 
 "0 tayta," he said in a coaxing voice, "good taytachay, ... if you but knew 
 how grateful . . ." 
 
 "That's all very well, my good fellow," I replied, interrupting him, "but leave for 
 the present your gratitude, which will not put a single onion in the soup, and lose 
 no time in getting my chnpe ready." The man addressed some hasty commands to 
 the gossips, who had listened to this dialogue with the greatest interest, and in the 
 twinkling of an eye the station was turned upside down, every one was rushing here 
 and there in search of the domestic animals. I heard the cry of anguish of a fowl 
 whose neck they wrung, followed by the squeak of a guinea-pig, to which one of 
 the women gave chase, and which she killed by breaking its back. Half a sack of 
 llama's dung was thrown upon the burning embers: everything about me assumed the 
 appearance of cheerfulness and abundance. The postmaster assigned" to each his task; 
 two Indian postilions had to attend to the fire and blow it without ceasing; four of the 
 women were charged with the cooking of the chupe, which consisted of an old hen, a 
 bit of dried mutton, and some real potatoes, the chimo or frozen batatas having been 
 unanimously declared too common for a delicate taste like mine. The quantity of salt, 
 of pimento, or of garlic, proper to season the broth, was the object of a discussion among 
 the women, who only settled the point after the maturest deliberation. Never was a 
 plat convert or gastronomic delicacy of any kind destined to excite the worn-out 
 appetite of a despot, or to tickle the nervous papillae of a bishop's palate, watched, 
 combined, and cooked with more loving care and attention to details than the vulgar 
 pot-au-feu which was boiling in my sight. The postmaster himself took charge of the 
 friture. Like Brillat-Savarin he found, apparently, that the art of frying is a very 
 delicate one, and woidd trust no one but himself with the handle of his frying-pan. His 
 guinea-pig singed, washed, cleaned, spread open, larded over, sprinkled with ground 
 pimento and kept flat in the pan by means of a stone placed on the belly, only awaited 
 the moment when it could be popped on the fire, to acquire, by being quickly fried, 
 that golden colour which recommends the animal to the appreciation of Peruvian 
 gourmets. 
 
 At length this splendid supper was served up, not on a table, the station did not 
 
LAM PA TO ACOPIA. 
 
 137 
 
 possess one, but on a piece of baize spread on the ground, and by which I squatted like 
 a tailor on his board. A wooden spoon was placed at my service, a fork was out of the 
 question. My ten ringers did good duty for one. The postmaster willingly served me 
 as cup-bearer. A quarter of an hour sufficed to sup and return thanks. Then the 
 spectators who surrounded me, having seen that my skins were drawn near the fire, 
 and understanding that 1 wished to sleep, retired into an adjoining apartment. Nor 
 
 PREPARATION OP A SUPPER AT THE STATION OF AGO A S-C ALIEN TES. 
 
 Medina, at a sign from the postmaster, joined the cortege and followed them into the 
 room, letting fall behind him the cow's-skin which, hung up by the tail, served for a 
 door. Soon the noise of eating, mingled with merriment and laughter, 1 made me aware 
 that the servants were supping on the left victuals of the master, and were enjoying by 
 anticipation the pleasures of paradise. 
 
 In the morning I rose early and found the postmaster already up. After giving him 
 a dozen reals, the price at which I valued my supper and the provender of my mules, 
 I tore a blank-leaf out of my note-book, and having been repeatedly assured by the 
 Indian that he was unable to read any kind of writing, I addressed the following lines 
 to General L : 
 
 1 Rire a la cantonade: a phrase of the theatre, for merriment heard behiDd the scenes. — Tr. 
 
 VOL. I. 18 
 
138 PE R U. 
 
 "My dear General, — The herein-named Ignacio Muynas Tupayanchi, postmaster of Aguas-Calientes, had intended 
 to follow the example of his fellow-citizens, and burn a little incense on your visit. I have persuaded him to do 
 nothing of the kind, feeling assured that at the moment I am writing you are tired of ovations, and official banquets, 
 and harangues. If then you do not find at Aguas-Calientes the usual display of hangings, flags, aud garlands of green 
 rushes, do not blame the aforesaid Ignacio, who has simply yielded to foreign influence. The honest fellow will 
 compensate you by his cuisine for the loss of the vain honours he would have rendered you. He excels in fritures, 
 aud with a common guinea-pig can make a dish fit for the gods. It is iu this quality of cuisinier that I recommend 
 him to you, my dear general, that on arriving at Aguas-Calientes you may put to the proof the peculiar talent of its 
 postmaster, whom I do not hesitate to declare as good a friturier as he appears to me to be a good citizen, devoted 
 soul and body to the public good. 
 
 " I pray that St. Eose, the patroness of Peru, may watch over your days, and over those dear to you." 
 
 I was informed afterwards that the unhappy postmaster, put in requisition by 
 General L. and his escort, who had taken my advice seriously, was kept at the frying- 
 pan for eighteen hours, during which time he fried a fabulous number of guinea-pigs 
 collected in the neighbourhood. But let us not anticipate events. 
 
 About six miles from Aguas-Calientes, after a slight but continuous descent, we 
 arrived at Marangani, a poor village, which has no other claim to attention than its 
 situation at the confluence of the Huilcamayo (which we have seen to take its rise 
 from the Lake Sisacocha, on the Raya plateau) with the stream of Langui issuing 
 from the lake of that name. The temperature is here a little ameliorated. In some 
 winding nooks of the mountain, sheltered from the wind and cold, were growing 
 little patches of potatoes, barley, oats, quinoa, and a species of the Oxalis locally 
 called occa, which the Indians eat in their chup^s. 
 
 It may be noted as a geographical and statistical detail, that the northern extremity 
 of the Raya plateau forms the frontier which separates the province of Lampa from 
 that of Canchis. The village of Marangani pertains to the latter, which is one of the 
 smallest provinces of Peru. Its area is 540 scpiare miles. 
 
 Nine miles from Marangani, northward, and on the right bank of the Huilcamayo, 
 is situated Sicuani, which is marked in the Peruvian maps as a city, but is really 
 only a big village, as monotonous as it is badly built. Its population in the time 
 of the viceroys was 7500 souls, now it is hardly 3000. An hospital for both sexes, 
 founded in the seventeenth century by the viceroy Count Gil de Lemos, has disappeared 
 from the earth with its founder. As to the massive silver lamp which still existed 
 in the church of Sicuani at the beginning of the century, it has been replaced by 
 a poor thing of copper with three branches. A Spaniard named Joaquin Vilafro 
 had presented it to the Virgin of Sicuani, not so much as a devotional offering as 
 an atonement or apology, in dread of the Inquisition and the viceroy, for the immeuse 
 wealth he had acquired in a short time from the mine of Quimsachata, near the 
 sources of the Apurimac; a precaution, however, which did not save him from being 
 hung par orJre for the sake of that same wealth. The lamp of the unfortunate 
 colonist, after having long been the ornament of the choir and the admiration of the 
 faithful, was taken to the mint and coined into piastres during the war between the 
 Royalists and Independents. 
 
 It was at Sicuani that the cacique Matheo Puinacah.ua, who in 1781 had betrayed 
 Tupac Amaru to the Spaniards, received, thirty-four years afterwards, the price of his 
 
LAMPA TO Al'Ol'IA. 
 
 L39 
 
 services. The Spaniards, who had promised him the epaulettes ul' a colonel, deferred 
 the promotion till they settled their debt in full by cutting oil' his head. 
 
 A natural curiosity of Sicuani, of which travellers have made no mention, probably 
 because they were unacquainted with its existence, is the lagune of Quellhua, or more 
 correctly Quellhuacocba, as it is called in the country, which is situated on the 
 heights to the east of the village. Let any one picture, if he can, a liquid sapphire 
 
 
 SICUANI, SEEN FK01I THE HEIGHTS OK QU ELLH U ACOCH A. 
 
 eighteen miles in circumference, in a setting composed of the five rounded backs of 
 mountains which extend to the horizon the snowy summits of the Cordilleras of 
 Chimboya and d'Atun-Quenamari, and which are charmingly belted with those totoras, 
 or large-leaved rushes, of which we have elsewhere spoken. Nothing can be more 
 calmly beautiful, or more freshly poetic, than this Andean lake, which no wind ruffles, 
 and no vessel has ever furrowed; in which clouds and stars, sunlight and moonlight, 
 are alone reflected; and the whole physiognomy of which is so ineffably sweet that 
 we have exhausted the resources of language when we say it smiles upon us like 
 something human ! 
 
 San Pablo and San Pedro de Cacha, situated about nine miles northward of 
 Sicuani, are two neighbouring hamlets of the dullest character, and closely resembling 
 each other in the misery of the inhabitants and their wretched mud -built huts. The 
 
140 
 
 PERU. 
 
 villagers of St. Paul boast that they have very much the advantage of St. Peter, and 
 support the assertion by pointing to the school with eighteen pupils which the former 
 possesses, and the latter does not. The rector of a university might appreciate this 
 evidence of superiority; Ave prefer, for our part, the geological grandeur and archaeo- 
 logical illustration of St. Peter, which, instead of a school and schoolmaster, may 
 well be proud of its fine ruins, above which towers a very respectable volcano, 
 unhappily extinct, though the time has been when it covered the country with lava, 
 scoriae, and pumice. This volcano, the crater of which is inclined from north to south, 
 
 THE TEMPLE OF HUIRACOCHA, ACCORDING TO THE HISTORIAN GARCILASSO DE LA VEGA. 
 
 lifts its head above a platform of low hills, on a site which bears the name of 
 Racchi, and from which the volcano has been corruptly called the Riacha by the natives. 
 At the foot of those barren hills, which form its pedestal, we find a plastic clay, of 
 which the potters of the Cordillera make pitchers, vases, and drinking-vessels of charm- 
 ing shapes. Here also are found several ochres, a red ochre called taco; and magnesia, 
 which the thrifty poor, who call it chacco (milk of the earth), collect, and of which, 
 mixed with a little water, they make a poulette, or white sauce, to be eaten with 
 potatoes by the family. 
 
 At some bow-shots from the hills of Racchi, in a place called Yahuarpampa, 1 are 
 the remains of an ancient edifice which can be seen from a long distance, and which 
 travellers have called the ruins of Tinta without saying one word of their origin. 
 We do not well know where these travellers got the name. Is it derived from the 
 fact that the province of Canchis, in which these ruins are situated, once formed, 
 together with the province of Canas, a single government, under the name of the 
 
 1 Plain of Blood, so called because there the Inca Huiracocha completely defeated his father Yahuar-Huacnc, who, 
 having beeu deposed by his subjects on account of his vices, had come to reassert his right to the empire at the head 
 of 3000 Chancas Indians, who perished iu the engagement. 
 
LAMPA TO ACOPIA. 
 
 141 
 
 Corregimiento de Tinta f We do not positively affirm this, but what we dare repeat 
 after the historians of the Conquest is, that the ruins are those of the temple built 
 towards the middle of the fourteenth century by Viracocha, or more correctly Huira- 
 cocha, 1 the eighth Inca, in remembrance of a dream in which an old man with a 
 long beard, wearing a Mowing robe, and holding a chained dragon, had appeared to 
 that prince when as a young man he kept the sheep of the emperor Yalmar-Huacac, 
 his father, in the plains of Chita. - 
 
 TEMPLE OF HUIRACOCHA, ACCORDING TO THE HISTORIANS CIE^A DE LEON AND ACOSTA. 
 
 To this dream, from which the heir presumptive had inferred a command from 
 Heaven relative to the subjugation of the Chancas, and which at a later period he 
 religiously accomplished by destroying 3000 of these indigenes, and annexing their 
 territory to the empire, must be ascribed the merit of having enriched the country 
 with a memorial temple 240 feet long and 120 feet wide, the walls of which, thirty 
 feet high, were built half of worked stones and half en pise. This edifice, erected 
 on a plateau which overlooked the environs, was reached by five terraces or steps. 
 It had three doors and three windows upon the northern and southern sides, and a 
 door and two windows at each of its ends or facades. Five pillars, erected at equal 
 distances on the principal walls, and tied by transverse beams, seiwed to support the 
 chief timbers which carried the thatched roof. The overhanging eaves of this roof 
 
 1 Foam of the Lake, so named on account of his milky-whiteness, say the historians of the seventeenth century ; 
 but, considering the habitual exaggeration of these estimable writers, we cannot help thinking that this pretended 
 whiteness of Huiracocha was only a kind of milk-and-coffee colour, instead of the burned brick tint which marks 
 the race generally. The sister aud wife of this Inca, who was equally unlike her features in the comparative fairness 
 of her skiu, was called Mama Runiu (the mother-egg). 
 
 2 We must leave to the historians of the Conquest the responsibility of this apocryphal dream and the explana- 
 tion of the young prince's presence in the frightful desert of Chita, 120 miles south of Cuzco, the capital of the 
 empire, and keeping sheep, which the couquerors did not introduce into America until two centuries later. 
 
142 
 
 PERU. 
 
 formed along the sides of the edifice a sort of pent-house, under which passers-by 
 surprised by a heavy shower could take shelter. 
 
 According to Garcilasso, this temple was only 120 feet long by 60 feet broad, or 
 half the dimensions assigned to it by Cieca de L^on and Acosta. He also states 
 that it had no roof, as the dream which it commemorated occurred in the country, 
 sub Joce cr/ido, and its interior decoration consisted of nothing but a simple cube of 
 
 RUINS OF THE TEMPLE OF HUIRACOCHA. 
 
 black porphyry, upon which was placed the statue of the mysterious old man seen 
 by Iluiracocha in his dream. At the period of the Conquest, the Spaniards threw 
 down the statue and destroyed its pedestal, in the expectation of finding hidden 
 treasure. 
 
 Of these architectural splendours nothiug is left but the ruined walls, about 
 twenty feet in height. It is true these walls have nine doors, while the primitive 
 edifice had only eight according to Cieca de Leon and Acosta. Happily this fact is 
 known to myself alone, for if the ninth door had been discovered by the delegates 
 of a learned society, not only would it have set rival societies by the ears and caused 
 a great waste of paper, but the spirit of paradox would have been ready to declare 
 in public that insatiable Time, tempus edax, who gnaws with ceaseless tooth the poor 
 works of our hands until little is left of them, had, on the contrary, added to those 
 
LAMPA TO ACOPIA. 
 
 143 
 
 of Peru. From regard for those respectable old women Record and Tradition, T will 
 not say anything so paradoxical. I will admit, with the above-named historians, that 
 the temple of which they speak had only eight doors, and that the ninth was opened in 
 its Avails by a shock of the neighbouring volcano. No other way of accounting for 
 the discrepancy occurs to me just now. 
 
 Six miles from St. Peter and St. Paul, we come to the village of Combapata. The 
 distance traversed is a continual descent, and in the measure we descend the tem- 
 
 VILLAGE AND LAGBNE OF COMHAPATA. 
 
 perature becomes milder, and belts of verdure begin to appear at the foot of the 
 mountains. Combapata, of which we find no mention in any geographical work or in 
 any known map, is a village of some threescore hearths, situated near a turbulent 
 and rapid river. Its little church is very bright and clean, its whitewashed walls con- 
 trasting pleasantly with the dirty look of the cottages in its neighbourhood. A Christ, 
 of life size, decorates the chief altar. The work of a sculptor of Huamanga, it is 
 venerated by the faithful under the name of Seigneur de Combapata, and is credited 
 with the performance of miracles. It has given sight to the blind, hearing to the deaf, 
 and speech to the dumb. In the eighteenth century, when the Jesuits were exiled from 
 Peru, tears of blood, they say, ran from its eyes — made of enamel. The same prodigy 
 occurred in 1821, when the viceroy La Serna, banished from Lima by the Independents, 
 was compelled to depart for Spain. Unfortunately for the Seigneur de Combapata, 
 
144 
 
 PERU. 
 
 the Christ of Tungasuca, a neighbouring village, has also the gift of miracles. This 
 latter, known as the Seigneur d'Anaipampa, renders barren women fruitful, heals the 
 reputed incurable, and preserves sheep from the scab. Like his rival the Seigneur de 
 Combapata, he weeps, on occasions, tears of blood over the miseries of this world. 
 From this identity of powers there results a bitter rivalry between the faithful of the 
 two parishes; the inhabitants of one village glorifying their own Christ by depreciating 
 that of their neighbours. Often in the bacchic solemnities with which each village 
 celebrates the f&te de V Homme-Dieu, have we seen the Indians, drunk with fanaticism 
 and brandy, use their heads like battering-rams for the greater glory of their lord. 
 
 TUE CRUCIFIX IX THK C H V V. C II OF COMBAPATA. 
 
 The river which runs by the village, and debouches in the Huilcamayo, under the 
 name of the Rio de Combapata, takes its rise from the western side of the Andes 
 of Crucero, between the provinces of Lampa and Carabaya. It is an auriferous stream, 
 and when its waters are swollen by the melted snows, it bears along in its muddy 
 waves particles of gold detached from the mountains. The inhabitants of the country 
 at one time established a gold-washing place on its banks. The rapid slope of the 
 lands which it waters gives to its floods a formidable character; it is less a torrent 
 than an avalanche, which hurls itself upon the surrounding country and in an 
 instant submerges it. Two stone bridges, of two arches, built solidly enough to stand 
 for ages, have been successively carried away by the flood. Each of these bridges cost 
 the province 2000 piastres (£400), and the slender resources of the inhabitants have 
 compelled them, as a measure of economy, to return to the swing-bridges of osiers, 
 with which for six centuries their ancestors were contented. 
 
 That which distinguishes Combapata from the other villages of the Sierra is not, 
 however, its miraculous Christ or its gold-bearing river. It is the cpiality of the chicha 
 brewed by its inhabitants. For a long time the process by which the matrons of that 
 
LAMPA TO ACOPIA. 
 
 145 
 
 village obtained their local beer, the smell and transparency of which remind one of 
 the manmnilla or claret of Spain, was kept secret; but like other secrets it has at 
 length been divulged, and now every one knows that the chicha is indebted for its 
 quality to the previous mastication of the gunapo or sprouting maize from which it is 
 brewed. The invention of this process is traced back to the ancient Aymaras; and 
 the chicha -brewers of Cochabamba in Upper Peru, who are descended from those 
 autochthones, still employ it with success. The process, to which we think it our duty 
 to call the attention of the editors of Cookery for the Million and Useful Recipes, is one of 
 the most simple and inexpensive conceivable. Several old men and women squat on the 
 
 BRIDGE OF OSIERS OVER THE RIVER OF COMBAPATA. 
 
 tioor round a heap of bruised maize. Each takes a portion of the maize, which he puts 
 in his or her mouth, and chews with more or less vigour and for a longer or shorter 
 time according to the strength of his grinders. When sufficiently macerated, it is 
 spit out into the hand and put on a little sheet of leather, spread out in front of each 
 operator. The chicha-brewer then collects these little heaps and throws them into the 
 jar which serves as a substitute for the caldron. 
 
 According to the chemists of the country, who have analyzed these chews or this 
 chicha, it is to a remarkable addition of juices from the salivary glands, and of secretions 
 from the pituitary membrane combined, that the maize of Combapata is indebted for 
 the precious qualities which it communicates to the chicha. I would not venture to 
 say whether the local chemistry is right or wrong, having always declined to taste the 
 chicha of Canchis; but I confess that I have taken great pleasure in watching the old 
 men and women who were assembled to chew the maize ; the mouths of these honest 
 people opening and shutting with such mechanical regularity, as to recall to my mind, 
 with the memory of my absent country, Desirabode's artificial teeth working up and 
 down from morning to night, in their glass case. 
 
 19 
 
146 
 
 PERU. 
 
 After Combapata, the traveller's next halting-place i.s Checcacupi, a poor village 
 about nine miles further, containing about thirty hovels, and situated near a small river, 
 flowing, like that of Combapata, from the Andes of Crucero. On crossing this river 
 by a bridge of stone, which dates from the time of the viceroys, and leaving behind us 
 the neighbouring provinces of Canchis and Canas, once combined to form the Cor- 
 regimiento de Tinta, we enter the province of Quispicanchi. Before we go further, let 
 
 CHEWING THE MAIZE FOK MAKING CHICHA. 
 
 us throw a rapid coup d'ceil over the past history of the double province, which we have 
 abandoned never more to revisit. 
 
 A long time before the appearance of the Incas in Pern, two rival nations, the 
 Canas and Canchis, occupied an area of about 14,000 square miles: from north to south, 
 it extended from the Sierras of Chimboya and d'Atun-Quenamari to the plateaux of 
 Ocoruro, and from east to west it reached from the Cordillera de Huilcanota to the 
 torrent of Chuquicabana. The Huilcamayo, of which we have seen the source at 
 Aguas-Calientes, and followed as far as Checcacupi, ran through a portion of this 
 territory. The Canas occupied, in the north and west, the present seat of the villages 
 of Pitumarca, Combapata, Tinta, and Yanaoca, extending as far as the heights of 
 Pichigua and Mollocahua, in the neighbourhood of the river Apurimac. The Canchis 
 inhabited the eastern and southern parts, the district in which are now situated the 
 
LAMPA TO ACOPIA. 
 
 14; 
 
 villages of St. Peter and St. Paul do Cacha, Sicuani, and Marangani, as far as the 
 Paya plateau. 1 
 
 These two nations, numbering about 25,000 men, were governed by their curacas 
 or respective chiefs. Their rivalry, which was of ancient date and occasioned bloody 
 quarrels between them, appears to have had no other cause than the difference of 
 their origin and temperament. The Canas, inhabitants, originally, of the Sierra 
 
 THE VILLAGE OF CHEOOACUI'I. 
 
 Nevada, took their name from the volcano of Racchi, which overlooked their territory, 
 and of which they boasted themselves the descendants. Cana, in the Quichua idiom, 
 signifies the seat or scene of a conflagration. The Canchis came in old times from the 
 temperate regions near Arequipa. Their name recalls their natal soil with its pale 
 flowers and grasses. Cancha, in Quichua, signifies an inclosed place or garden. This 
 difference of origin was aggravated by a difference of costume, the former invariably 
 wearing black, the latter a mixed colour. 
 
 The character of these indigenes agreed wonderfully with their national patronymic. 
 The Canas, gloomy and taciturn of disposition, but wrathful and impetuous on occasion, 
 jealous of their independence to the point of sacrificing all for its sake, struggled 
 for four centuries against the power of the Incas, and only submitted at last when the 
 
 1 The present limits of the two provinces imperfectly recall those of their ancient territory. 
 
148 PERU. 
 
 daughter of their chief became one of the three hundred wives of Huayna-Capac, the 
 twelfth emperor of Cuzco. The Canchis, on the contrary, gentle and timid of character, 
 lukewarm and undecided in spirit, like the climate in which they were born, submitted 
 without resistance to the dominion of the Children of the Sun. 
 
 In the sixteenth century the territory of the Canas and the Canchis was formed into 
 one province under the name of the Corregimiento de Tinta, and these indigenes, who 
 now formed only one and the same people, passed from the yoke of the emperors under 
 that of the viceroys. For them the halter simply took the place of the collar. As their 
 robust constitution fitted them to work in the mines, they were treated as slaves by 
 their new masters. Every year the Spanish officials came to carry off one-tenth of the 
 entire population in the name of the state. The unfortunate recruits, designated by 
 lot, were collected before the church to hear a mass said on their account, and for 
 which they were supposed to pay themselves. After mass the cure' received their oath 
 of fealty and obedience to the King of Spain, then sprinkled them with holy water, 
 pronounced the customary blessing, Vete con Dios, and — turned his back on them. 
 
 These recruits, escorted by relations and friends, who answered their tears with 
 groans, took the road to Cailloma, Carabaya, or Potosi, sites of those rich deposits 
 of mineral wealth which the viceroys of Peru worked a little for their own benefit and 
 for that of the King of Spain. Doomed to the labours of excavation, the poor Indians 
 descended into the bocaminas and socabons — pits and galleries — where the want of the 
 pure air to which they had been accustomed, and the emanations of deleterious gases, 
 brought on, according to the doctors of the country, a kind of asthma, called chacco, of 
 which they died in a year. When the supply of workers was thus exhausted by death 
 the representatives of the Spanish monarchy had only to throw in their drag-net and 
 again recruit the ranks of the labourers. 
 
 Things went on thus during more than two centuries before the population, weary 
 of their yoke, endeavoured to throw it off. The inhabitants of Aconcahua, in the 
 province of Canas, exasperated by an increase of the tribute of gold-dust exacted from 
 them by the state, seized the Spanish collector on one of his visits, and gave him more 
 than he wanted by making him swallow a quantity of the melted metal; 1 after which, 
 to escape the pursuit of justice, they abandoned for ever their village, the site of 
 which is still recognizable. Tupac Amaru, cacique of Tungasuca, after having hung 
 with his own hand the corregidor of Tinta, Antonio Arriega, and raised the country 
 against the Spaniards, was defeated by them and cruelly put to death. Angulo, Bejar, 
 Pumacahua, and Andia, who succeeded Tupac Amaru, paid with their heads the 
 penalty of failure in the work they had undertaken, and which nine years later Simon 
 Bolivar accomplished on the plains of Ayacucho. 
 
 When the blow for independence was first struck, the government of Tinta was 
 divided into six districts. These Avere Sicuani, Tinta, Checca, Checcacupi, Langui, and 
 Yauri, comprising twenty-three villages, the situation of which on the mountain or in 
 
 1 Para saciar de este modo la sed insatiable del recaudador — To appease by this means the insatiable greed of the collec- 
 tor, naively says Pedro Celestino Florez, who relates this fact in a work entitled, Patriotismo y amor & la libertad. The 
 honest writer adds by way of a reflection: The oppression of those intrusted with power, and the failure of justice in a 
 country, often drives the oppressed to commit atrocious deeds, for which the circumstances are some excuse. 
 
LAMPA TO ACOPIA. 149 
 
 the plain, and their consequent difference of temperature, had caused them to be classed 
 into higher and lower villages. Many of them no longer exist; others have become 
 simple estancias (farms), though from respect for their past history, and the souvenirs 
 which they recall, the statisticians of the country have preserved for forty years in their 
 annual reports, and will preserve for a long time yet, the rank and situation which 
 they formerly occupied. In like manner the illustrious grenadier, whom France 
 delights to honour, continues to figure long after his death iipon his old regimental 
 list, and to answer the roll-call day after day, by the voice of one of his brothers in 
 arms. 
 
 While giving due credit to these statisticians for an idea evidently inspired by the 
 purest patriotism, we cannot but censure them for an ai'tifice which gives to the world 
 in general, and to the neighbouring republics in particular, a false idea of the numerical 
 forces of the country. According to them the figure which represents the existing 
 population of each of the provinces of Canas and Canchis is exactly that of the entire 
 population of the government of Tinta in the time of its splendour. Unfortunately 
 for these gentlemen, we know that of all the provinces of Lower Peru, that of Tinta 
 was the worst treated during the Spanish occupation. Its population, decimated in 
 turn by epidemics, subsidies for the mines, forced enrolments, voluntary emigration, 
 and all the exigencies caused by spiritual power and political revolution, did not 
 exceed, in 1792, 36,314 souls. In 1820 it numbered 36,968, and in 1836 it had risen 
 to 37,218. Yet we are expected to believe that a population which had increased by 
 900 souls in forty years, could almost double itself in the year or two following! 
 
 On quitting the village of Combapata it had been arranged between Nor Medina 
 and myself that we should pass the night at Checcacupi, and the next day push on to 
 Huaro, doubling the stage and passing, without stopping, the villages of Quiquijana 
 and Urcos. But feeling there was little prospect of a bed or a supper at Checcacupi, 
 and knowing we should have to cross the Huilcamayo on the next clay in order to take 
 the road to Cuzco, the idea occurred to me that we might as well cross to the other 
 bank at once and push on for Acopia, where we had some chance of finding food and 
 lodging. As this would add six miles to our stage, I said nothing to Nor Medina, who 
 would have been in an agony about his mules ; and we continued our march. As we 
 were nearing San Juan, a little hamlet agreeably placed by a lagune, I suddenly de- 
 scended to the river and looked for a fordable place. A bed of flints and pebbles, in- 
 termingled with larger stones, was visible through the transparent water. I pushed my 
 mule resolutely forward to cross. Nor Medina, seeing this change in our itinerary, 
 called out as he galloped up: — 
 
 "Where are you going, sir?" 
 
 "As you see, I am going to cross the Huilcamayo: Kubos aneriphto. May destiny 
 be favourable to me, as to Caesar!" 
 
 "But the river is full of holes; you will get drowned and lame my mule." 
 
 My only reply to this remark of a venal soul was to shrug my shoulders, seeing 
 which my guide followed me into the river. 
 
 "Why has monsieur taken this road?" he demanded with some brusqueness. 
 
1.30 PERU. 
 
 The question was so natural that I was tempted to explain my motive ; but the tone 
 in which it was put arrested my confidence on my lips. I looked at Nor Medina, da 
 ha at en has, and replied: — 
 
 "I have taken this road for particular reasons." 
 
 "Ah!" said he, "and where is monsieur going?" 
 
 "To Acopia." 
 
 "To Acopia?" 
 
 "To Acopia." 
 
 "That suffices. If monsieur has particular reasons for going to Acopia it is my 
 duty to conform to those reasons and follow him." 
 
 This, however, he did with difficulty, as his mule twisted about upon the slippery 
 stones, and with the efforts which it made to keep on its feet, splashed us all over from 
 head to foot. 
 
 A wetting in the Cordillera is never agreeable, but in spite of its unpleasantness I 
 could not help laughing to see Nor Medina venting his ill-temper upon the mule, 
 calling it heartless and good for nothing — an infamous style of conversation to which a 
 mule is particularly sensitive, either because it indicates a certain amount of contempt 
 for the beast, or because the words are generally accompanied with blows. "We 
 arrived on the other side, and having dried ourselves as well as we could, resumed our 
 march, leaving to our left San Juan and its lagune, from which flows a stream which is 
 tributary to the Huilcamayo. If it was Nor Medina's duty to follow me, as he said, 
 I must admit, to his credit, that he fulfilled it to the letter, but by preserving between 
 us a distance of thirty geometrical paces he gave me to understand that he was in the 
 sulks. A Peruvian arri&ro is very susceptible. The least thing offends him; he is shut 
 up by the merest trifle. His humour is a limpid lake, moved by the slightest zephyr. 
 The mere fact that I had passed from one side to the other of the Huilcamaj'o without 
 taking counsel of my guide had hurt his feelings, and turned him against me. Out 
 of consideration for my character, as a traveller paying his way, I abstained from 
 calling him to my side, and left him to trot along at his pleasure. We arrived at 
 Acopia without having exchanged a word. 
 
FOOETH STAGE. 
 
 ACOPIA TO CUZCO 
 
 (PERU). 
 
;*=r< 
 
 
 VILLAGE OF ACOPIA. 
 
 FOUETH STAGE, 
 
 ACOPIA TO CUZCO 
 
 Dissertation ou the province of Quispicanchi, which the reader may pass by. — Aeopia, its pretended ruins and its 
 tarts. — Compromising hospitality. — The widows Bibiana and Maria Salome. — A demonstration that if all men 
 are equal in the sight of death, they are not bo in the sight of fleas. — A dream of happiness. — The Quebrada 
 of Cuzco. — Andajes and its pistachio -puddings. — The Chingana (or cave) of Qquerohuasi. — A quarry worked in the 
 time of the empress Mama Ocllo Huaco. — A botanical discourse which all the world may comprehend. — The 
 traveller laments his spent youth and lost illusions. — A muleteer may be at once a herbalist and a logician. — 
 Quiquijana and the great stones of its little river. — Something about TJrcos, the chief village in the province of 
 Quispicanchi. — The Mohina lake and its lost chain of gold. — Zoology and arboriculture. — Huaro, its steeple, its 
 weather-cock, and its famous organ. — Valleys and villages characterized, en passant, by a word.— The village of 
 Oropesa. — Why called Oropesa the Heroic. — The traveller has another squabble with his guide.— Sketch of San 
 Jerouimo. — San Sebastian, and its noble families. — The tree of adieus. — The convent of La Eecoleta, its prior 
 and its monks. — The Corridor-du-Ciel and the Devil's Pulpit. — A monolithic chamber. — Three sorcerers of Goya in a 
 holy- water font. — By what road we arrived among the descendants of the Sun.— Silhouette of a capital. — Last 
 words of counsel from the lips of Wisdom in the person of a muleteer. The author packs his trunks with 
 one baud, while writing his memoirs with the other. — Cuzco, ancient and modern. 
 
 The village of Aeopia belongs to the province of Quespicanchi, or Quispicanchi, 
 according to the orthography adopted by modern statisticians and the editors of the 
 Calendario. The limits of the province are not well defined, the Peruvian govern- 
 ment not having yet found time to arrange for its survey. All that Ave can say, 
 geographically speaking, is, that it is inclosed by the provinces of Paucartampu, 
 Urubamba, Paruro, Cotabamba, Chnmbihuilcas, and Canas y C'anchis; that eastward, 
 beyond the oriental Cordillera, it comprises the valleys of Marcapata, Ayapata, 
 and Asaroma, and extends across regions still unexplored as far as the frontiers 
 of Bolivia and Brazil. 
 
 The civilized population, or the people so called, of that immense territory, 
 scarcely number 40,000 souls. As to the savage tribes who live on the shores of 
 
 VOL I. 20 
 
154 PERU. 
 
 its rivers or upon the borders of its forests, they are by no means so numerous as 
 seems to be believed in Europe. Generally speaking, travellers who have treated of 
 American anthropology 1 have singularly exaggerated the number of these redskins. 
 Eor that exaggeration there are two causes: first, the amour-propre of the traveller, 
 Avho wishes to persuade the public that after having piled Pelion upon Ossa, he has 
 discovered the singing water and the talking bird, vainly sought for by those who 
 preceded him. Secondly, some allowance must be made for the incorrectness of 
 notes and documents supplied to the traveller by the inhabitants of the country, 
 who, when they are asked a question, blow themselves out like the frog in the fable 
 in order that a great opinion may be formed of them Vanitas vanitatum, omnia 
 vanitas. Let us return to Quispicanchi, which was once the name of a nation, but 
 is now only that of a province. 
 
 In the middle of the eleventh century, when Manco-Capac, chief of the dynasty 
 of the Sun, had founded Cnzco, and made it the capital of his empire, the first 
 crusade which he undertook to rally to the worship of Helios-Churi the aboriginal 
 tribes who were spread abroad in the Cordillera, was that of Collasuyu. 2 The Ques- 
 picanchis, the Mnynas, the Urcos, the Quehuares, the Cavinas, and the Ayamarcas, 3 
 then occupied in that direction a territory of about 1500 square miles. These tribes 
 responded to the call of Manco, and ravished by the sweetness and unction of his 
 words — to believe his biographers, the Inca spoke with a mouth of gold like Chrysostom 
 —they listened to him with docility. Manco instructed them in a number of things 
 which we are sorry we cannot insert in our text to impart to it more of local colour. 
 After having convinced them that the worship of the sun was preferable to that of 
 adders, toads, and trunks of trees, which these Indians adored, he taught them how to 
 build huts, for the most of them were troglodytes, and, like the chinchillas of their 
 country, lived in burrows. When he judged they were sufficiently refined, and suffi- 
 ciently impressed with the advantages of civilization over barbarism, he settled them 
 in forty villages on the borders of Collasuyu, and made them his subjects and tributaries. 
 
 Manco-Capac, on whom Spanish historians have conferred two faces like Janus, 
 the one simply good, the other cunning, did not stop at this with regard to these 
 indigenes. As a mark of his esteem, and at the same time as a witness to future 
 ages that they were the first idolaters of the Sierra in whom the eyes of the spirit 
 had been opened to the light of the sun, he conferred on them, by means of the quipos, 
 equivalent to our letters-patent, titles of nobility, with honours and dignities which they 
 
 1 D'Orbigny, in his work entitled L 'Homme Americain, has swelled the sum total of his figures to satisfy his own 
 taste, and has also grafted some alien branches on the Ando-Peruvian stock. Thus the inhabitants of the village of 
 Apolobamba, in the eastern valley of that name — Indians and Cholos of the Sierra for the most part — have become 
 under his hand the tribe of Apolistas; of the Cholos and half-breeds of Paucartauipu, he has made the tribe of Pau- 
 cartambinos ; of the Chuncos (a generic name of the savage iu Peru), a distinct caste, &c. 
 
 2 From suyu, direction ; direction from Collao, or the territory of the Collas Indians. This is one of the four 
 primitive divisions of the empire, established by Manco-Capac, and corresponding to the four quarters of the heavens: 
 chincha-suyu (north), collasuyu (south), anti-suyu (east), and cunti-suyu (west). 
 
 3 All these tribes, perfectly distinct before the establishment of the Incas, became mixed and confounded in their 
 time with the great Aymara-Quichua family. The villages of the Sierra, to which these autochthones have left their 
 name, are situated on the territory which they occupied iu the tenth century, before the appearance of Manco-Capac. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 155 
 
 could transmit to their descendants. Some had the right to cut their hair square 
 across the forehead to distinguish them from the vulgar, others to let it float freely 
 in the wind ; these elongated the lobe of their ears to the length of half a foot, those 
 pierced them for the purpose of suspending a bit of osier, a wooden rnndle, the 
 tip of a reed, or a tuft or pompon of variously coloured wool. The favour was as highly 
 appreciated as it Avas appreciable, say the historians of the Conquest, parenthetically, 
 and the aborigines always showed themselves grateful for it. 
 
 The Spanish conquerors, in their own brutal way, compelled the Indians to 
 sacrifice all these tokens of a nobility that had endured for five centuries. The 
 way in which they scoffed at the great Quichua dignitaries, whose ears hung down 
 to their shoulders, prevented the descendants of the latter from continuing the custom. 
 Under the futile pretext that they could not approach them without feeling a dis- 
 agreeable itching, Pizarro and his officers compelled the Caracas (governors of villages) 
 to cut off the luxuriant hair untouched by a comb which served to distinguish them 
 from their subordinates. With the abolition of the capillary privileges, old modes 
 and customs also died out. The regime of brute force reigned supreme. In place 
 of the padded collar worn by the Indians in the time of the Incas, Spain substituted 
 a heavy one of iron bristling with spikes. The populations, decimated by the sword, 
 exhausted by exactions and the labour of the mines, died out, or emigrated, abandoning 
 the stubble, the llama skins, and the three calcined stones which represented for them 
 the house, the bed, and the domestic hearth. At this day, what archaeologist, however 
 patient and minute he might be in his research, even if aided by spectacles and the 
 works of Garcilaso, Valera, Acosta, Cieca de Leon, Zarate, Torquemada, and other 
 chroniclers, could discover, on the imperial road of Collasuyu in a circuit of nine 
 miles, a vestige of the forty villages of which it boasted in the middle of the 
 sixteenth century? 
 
 The province of Quispicanchi, which of all its past splendour has nothing left 
 but the ruins of an aqueduct, is now divided into four districts, in which are contained 
 three towns and a score of villages. These villages are all alike. Their temperature 
 alone differs, according as they are situated in a quebrada (or gorge), like those of 
 Huaro, Andahuaylillas, and Oropesa; in a puna, like those of Mosoc-Llacta and Poma- 
 canchi; or at the foot of the snowy Andes, like those of Ocongate and Sangarara. 
 
 The village of Acopia, where we had now arrived, owes to its exceptional situa- 
 tion, at the base of a plateau and at the entrance of a quebrada, an exceptional 
 climate. It blows, it rains, and it thunders often enough; it hails and snows some- 
 times; but water there never passes from the liquid to the solid state. 
 
 On each side of the road leading into this dull village, which the natives call a 
 town, are the remains of a wall of sun-dried bricks, several feet in height, broken along 
 its summit, and of the agreeable colour of a bituminized mummy. This debris of an 
 inclosure, some twenty years old at most, has a false air of antiquity, by which an 
 enthusiastic and inexperienced traveller might easily be taken in. As I am neither a 
 novice nor an enthusiast, I was not deceived, but passed by the pretended ruins without 
 looking at them. My whole attention, in fact, was concentrated upon the piles of tarts 
 
156 
 
 PERU. 
 
 which two Indian women, who make this their trade, had displayed on wooden 
 benches at the entrance of the village, in a fashion to tempt the appetites of passers-by. 
 On dismounting by these stalls, the women looked at me simultaneously, with that 
 sweet commercial smile with which the seller usually greets the buyer, as the serpent 
 fascinates the bird; and T began to reason with myself thus: "This road is little 
 frequented, the pastry before me has been exposed for a month or two to the detri- 
 
 TAET-SELLERS AT ACOPIA. 
 
 mental action of the atmosphere; the layer of dust which covers it, and the singular 
 hardness which time imparts to such things, justify, in some degree, this supposition. 
 But, should a hungry stomach hesitate about such trifles?" "Without condescending to 
 inquire, therefore, at what epoch the aforesaid tarts were manufactured, I immediately 
 bought half a dozen of them, at the price of a real apiece; and having wiped one of 
 them with my pocket-handkerchief, soon fastened my teeth in it, I swallowed two 
 mouthfnls without choking, but at the third stopped short. An indefinable mixture of 
 tastes and smells made me feel sick at heart. Mechanically I thrust my fingers in the 
 tart and drew forth, one after another, black olives, slices of onions, little bits of cheese, 
 and leaves of mint. All this was plastered together with burned sugar and hog's-lard. 
 The secret of my nausea was discovered. As Nor Medina had trotted on before me 
 into the village, I could not make him an offer of this pastry by way of regaining his 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 157 
 
 good graces, I therefore offered it to my nude, to the great disgust of the two women, 
 who looked at me with anything but a pleased expression. 
 
 This fine exploit accomplished, I remounted my beast and went in search of my 
 guide, whom I soon overtook-. Then without a word passing between us, though we 
 were both occupied by the same thought — that of supper and bed — we went in quest of 
 some house where they would consent to take us in; Acopia having neither caravan- 
 serai, tampu, or hostelry to offer to unfortunate travellers. We wandered about for 
 some time among the cottages, examining them from top to bottom, without being able 
 to make a selection. For the most part they were singularly out of repair, and looked 
 as if they were overrun with vermin. Two or three of the number were recommended 
 to notice by having been newly thatched and whitewashed, but they were cruelly closed 
 against us. The situation was becoming critical, for the sun had already disappeared. 
 The horizon was enveloped in a violet-tinted gloom, while a slowly ascending fog 
 floated round the village, and presented its outlines in silhouette. Never had twilight 
 seemed to me so wretchedly disagreeable. 
 
 As we passed for the third time down a dirty little street, bordered on one side by 
 the fronts of the cottages and on the other by the wall of a sheep-pen, a rather worm- 
 eaten door was cautiously opened, and a woman, holding between her thumb and 
 her index-finger a bit of candle, appeared as the personification of that hospitality 
 of which I was in search. "I will go no further," I said to myself, stopping my mule 
 before the beautiful unknown, who returned my salutation by a charming smile. 
 I was pleased with the woman's kind manner and scrupulous neatness. Her hair was 
 carefully dressed, and glossy with mutton-fat ; her lliclla of white wool edged with pink 
 ribbons veiled, without hiding, her bosom and her shoulders. Her petticoat was lost 
 in the shade, but the hand which held the bit of candle, and the arm belonging to it, 
 were well rounded and plump, bearing witness to robust health. 
 
 Flattered by the notice of which she Avas the object, on the part of a man with a 
 white skin — it is of myself I must be understood to speak, for my guide was of the 
 colour of a medlar — the beautiful unknown smiled again, and pursing up her mouth 
 said, in a falsetto voice : — 
 
 "What are you looking for at this time of the day, my good sir?" 
 
 "A roof to shelter my head, and something to appease my hunger," I replied, 
 in my natural voice. As the woman was on the point of assuring me I should find 
 them with her, and better than elsewhere, I looked at Nor Medina, who, since we 
 crossed the Huilcamayo, had not opened his lips. His expression was perfectly for- 
 bidding, and his gray bushy eyebrows appeared to be drawn closer together than 
 ordinary. I had scarcely realized my astonishment, when my attention was caught 
 by a whispering and laughing at the doors of the neighbouring houses, apparently 
 caused by my colloquy with the woman in the white Hiclla. 
 
 Without stopping to think of anything sinister in these sounds, I dismounted, and 
 at the same instant a voice, whose clear ring revealed one of the fair sex, pronounced 
 distinctly these strange words: — 
 
 "Don't shear them too close, Templadora." 
 
158 PERU. 
 
 "Pack of pickpockets!" murmured the beautiful unknown, to whom probably this 
 recommendation was addressed. 
 
 "What does that mean?" I asked, looking first at my intended hostess, and then at 
 Nor Medina, whose two eyebrows were knitted into one. 
 
 "It means," replied the woman, "that I have bad neighbours, who wish to take 
 the bread out of my mouth, under the pretext that I do not belong to the country. 
 But come in, my good sir," she added immediately, with her benevolent smile. 
 
 "Do not enter, sir!" Nor Medina said, impressively; "and you," he added, looking 
 
 TEMPLADORA— A H U A RSI I P A NPA YRUN AC U N A OF ACOPIA. 
 
 severely at the woman, "go to a hundred thousand devils; we are honest travellers, and 
 want nothing to do with such chuchumecas as you." 
 
 These words were hardly pronounced when, like a formula of exorcism which 
 breaks some dark enchantment, they re-established the situation in clear daylight. 
 The beautiful unknown let loose her tongue, blew out the candle, and shut the door in 
 our faces. It was some seconds before I recovered my self-possession. 
 
 "What!" I said at last to Nor Medina, "that woman with her hair so well dressed, 
 and such a pleasant smile, was . . ." 
 
 "Yes, sir," he replied, without giving me time to finish the sentence. "This was a 
 snare set by Satan." 
 
 "To what dangers is a traveller not exposed!" I murmured to myself; and while 
 thankful to God for the visible protection he had afforded me in these circumstances, 
 I remarked that night had fallen, and that a most depressing solitude reigned in 
 Acopia. My guide had recommenced the search, and I followed him, reflecting on the 
 probability that virtue would have to go supperless to bed, and that its bed woidd 
 perhaps be on the hard pavement of the street. An exclamation from Nor Medina 
 disturbed my reflections. He had discovered a chicheria, through the half-open door 
 
AC0P1A TO CUZCO. 159 
 
 of which two fat, greasy-looking women might be seen squatted before a jar making 
 their chicha boil by means of bunches of straw, which one twisted and the other 
 put on the fire. The back-ground of the scene, and most of the accessories, were 
 hidden from view by the smoke. 
 
 "If you think good, we will pass the night here," said my guide. 
 
 The place had a suspicious look, but the night was getting colder and colder, and 
 hesitation would have been ridiculous. I therefore nodded my approbation, and 
 springing from my mule, bravely entered the cabaret. At the rattle of my clumsy 
 Chilian spurs a number of guinea-pigs, that had been attracted to the hearth by the 
 light and warmth of the fire, scattered on every side with squeaks of terror. The 
 chicheras, a little surprised by my sudden appearance, paused in their work for a 
 moment and inquired what had brought us there at such an hour. A few words was 
 sufficient to explain and settle with them the price of a supper and bed. For four 
 reals, which I paid in advance, they consented to give up to us a corner of their hovel, 
 and to prepare some kind of repast for us. Besides this, they pointed out to Nor 
 Medina an inclosure in the neighbourhood where our beasts would find, in default of 
 forage, companions of their own species. Then, judging by our wearied looks that we 
 were dying of starvation, the good women hastened to fill a pot with water, into which 
 they threw the various ingredients which compose a Peruvian drupe" in the Cordillera. 
 To make it boil the quicker, I seated myself by the fire, which I fed with handfuls of 
 straw, handed to me by the two ladies in turn. The frankness of my manner won 
 their confidence, and in ten minutes I knew that they were widows; the one named 
 Bibiana, the other Maria Salome; that they had no property and no income whatever, 
 but gained their living by making chicha, which they sold to the inhabitants of Acopia, 
 and to the peons of the neighbouring estancias. For my part, not to remain in their 
 debt, I related the various incidents of my entrance into the village, from the episode 
 of the tarts to the compromising hospitality which had been offered to me by a woman 
 of the name of Templadora. 
 
 "Santissima Virgenl" exclaimed Bibiana, making the sign of the cross and kissing 
 her thumb, "you have spoken to that heathen, come from, we know not whence?" 
 
 "My good woman," said I, "what could I do, being a stranger and knowing 
 no one? At first sight that woman seemed to me a Christian, and a good Catholic." 
 
 "So Catholic," added Maria Salome, "that if I were governor, or only alcalde, she 
 should not be in Acopia another twenty-four hours; such creatures are the disgrace of 
 our sex." 
 
 I looked at her out of the corner of my eye. Evidently the poor woman flattered 
 herself. That sex of which she spoke was as difficult to decipher in her countenance 
 as a hieroglyphic cartouche of the time of Thothmosis. "After all," I said to myself, 
 "the form alters, but the nature remains; beauty fades, the back becomes rounded, 
 the limbs bowed, but the heart, like the gillyflower among ruins, continues to flourish 
 and bloom when all is dead around it. Who can say that this chichera, with the 
 figure of a hippopotamus, has not hidden, under the layer of fat which envelops 
 it, the heart of a young girl, full of illusions, of tenderness, and of love . . 
 
160 PERU. 
 
 While I mused thus, the broth boiled with fury. In an instant Bibiana, having 
 tasted it, announced that it was cooked to a nicety, and took the pot from the fire. 
 I seated myself on the ground, my guide sat down opposite me, and then with the 
 pottage between our knees, and with the wooden spoon which Bibiana had handed 
 to each of us, after wiping it with her petticoat, we scrimmaged our best. 
 
 Our supper being finished, I considered, out of regard for the convenances of 
 society, how to fabricate a screen, which dividing in two the common chamber, might 
 isolate us completely from our hostesses. Some rags of serge and old dish-clouts that 
 they brought me, not without laughing at my modesty, and which I hung upon a line, 
 served the purpose. When this was done, I and my guide prepared our beds 
 fraternally side by side, and, covered up to the eyes, awaited the moment when 
 Morpheus should scatter over us his poppies. Already a languid torpor had paralyzed 
 my spirit and my eyes were beginning to close, when two nimble and hairy bodies, 
 the contact of which made me shiver, ran across my face. I could feel that each body 
 had a tail. A cry of horror brought the widows to my side, and Nor Medina sprang 
 up in his bed. 
 
 "There are rats here," I cried. 
 
 "Impossible!" said Nor Medina. 
 
 "Monsieur has taken the guinea-pigs for rats," said one of the women. 
 
 "Has a guinea-pig got a tail?" I asked. 
 
 "Well, no;" said Nor Medina; "but even supposing they were rats," he added, 
 "the noise you made has so frightened them, that it is a hundred to one they will 
 not return to-night." 
 
 This seemed so reasonable that I lay down again. After a few minutes I felt as 
 if a thousand needles had been suddenly thrust into my flesh. As this attack was 
 made at the same moment on every part of my body, my two hands were of little 
 use in repelling it. Despairing of relief I rolled over on my couch with such cries of 
 rage, that Nor Medina awoke again. 
 
 "Monsieur does not sleep well," he said. 
 
 "Can I sleep by merely shutting my eyes?" I answered, "I am devoured by fleas." 
 
 Hearing this, the chicheras began to laugh. "Ah!" said one of them, "the 
 gentleman is surprised he should be troubled by fleas; but they treat all alike in 
 the Sierra, the rich as well as the poor. The fleas are like death, no one escapes 
 them." 
 
 In the frame of mind in which I then was, this aphorism appeared to me so stupid, 
 and at the same time it so exasperated me, that I could hardly help addressing some 
 rude apostrophe to the woman, who had really made the remark by way of consolation. 
 I did, however, restrain myself, and tried to sleep; but only succeeded in doing so 
 when the enemy, sufficiently gorged with the purest drops of my blood, ceased his 
 attacks. Then I turned over like a log and slept heavily. In the morning when I 
 looked into my pocket-mirror, I was startled by the image which presented itself. I 
 had become quite livid, my eyes were swollen, and my face more tatooed than that of 
 Chingacook the Mohican. In contrast with mine, the skin of Nor Medina was as 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 1G1 
 
 smooth as velvet, and presented no sign of a puncture. I inferred from this, in spite 
 of the woman's remark, that men, who are really equal in the presence of death, are 
 not so in the sight of fleas, since the infernal beasts, while they devoured me, had 
 thought it a duty to spare my guide. 
 
 The sun was above the horizon when we thought of recommencing our journey. 
 Nor Medina went to seek our mules, and began to saddle them. He was in the act 
 
 A NIGHT OF TORTURE. 
 
 of equipping mine, when the end of a strap which fastened the girth became unsewn. 
 While he borrowed a needle and thread to repair it, I took a turn through the village. 
 My evil star, or rather my ignorance of the locality, led me into the street where my 
 interview with Templadora had occurred the evening before. I understood well 
 enough the smiling and whispering which took place when some of the women, standing 
 about the doors of their houses, recognized me again : but, strong in my innocence, I 
 walked haughtily by without deigning to notice them. In this mood I found I had 
 passed unconsciously beyond the houses of Acopia into the country, if one may so call 
 the stretch of hilly soil, strewn with stones and bristling here and there with stunted 
 shrubs, over which I was walking. Two lakes, which I saw at a distance, seduced me 
 still further. The surface of both was on a level with the, ground. No tuft of herbage, 
 poor as it was in the locality, flourished on their banks. No feathered fowl gambolled 
 
 21 
 
162 PERU. 
 
 on their surface; in fine, their motionless waters seemed as if covered with a thin skin. 
 I turned my back upon them and retraced my steps. My guide had finished his task, 
 and was beginning to feel surprised by my long absence. We took leave of Bibiana 
 and Maria Salome, whose roars of laughter during the night had very much lowered 
 them in my esteem, and were soon far away from their disgusting abode. 
 
 The day commenced under the brightest auspices; the sky was serene, the sun 
 shone brilliantly, and the temperature of the air was sufficiently pleasant. Although, as 
 yet, Ave knew not where we should get a dinner, we were not at all alarmed on that 
 account. The double aspect of earth and sky sufficed for the moment to stay our 
 stomachs, and their serenity, reacting upon our humour, coloured it with sparkling 
 reflections and rainbow hues of light. 
 
 Under the influence of this expansion of our moral nature, we chattered — my guide 
 and I — like old friends. He talked trade to me, I talked botany to him. From 
 Mercury to Flora the distance is not very great, and in spite of some little incoherence, 
 we understood each other perfectly well. We thus got over two leagues almost without 
 knowing it, such a charm had this broken conversation. Then, however, we began to 
 feel a little tired, and after a few demonstrative yawns we both ceased talking, and 
 continued our way communing with our own thoughts. 
 
 The gaiety of mine was tempered by the reflection that I should never again 
 revisit the scenes through which we were passing. We were approaching the Quebrada 
 of Cuzco, and I recalled the happy, and already far-off time, when I had passed 
 through it for the first time in the midst of a merry company. My companions were 
 muleteers who travelled by short stages. We had met about 200 miles from Acopia 
 between Putina and Betanzos, and, mutually pleased with each other, had kept 
 together. A few bottles of tafia, with which I paid my footing, had won the hearts of 
 my new friends. During the seventeen days that our journey lasted, they habitually 
 called me patron; an honorary title which flattered my vanity, and was worth a second 
 pourboire to them when we parted. Singing, laughing, and swearing, we followed the 
 direction of the chain of Crucero, white with hoar-frost from the top to the base during 
 the whole year. What wicked jests, what repartee we exchanged during those 
 seventeen days' march! what long nights passed side by side in the midst of the snows 
 of the Sierra ! It was our custom to halt at sunset, when we made a fire of dry crottin, 
 placed our camp-kettle over it, and prepared a supper of bean-soup or potatoes cooked 
 with soft cheese. When the hour of rest arrived, my companions would pack up 
 their luggage so as to form with it the three walls of a hut; three sticks, placed across, 
 supported the roof, and under this convenient, though confined shelter, for it only 
 covered my head and chest, I crept on all fours. In the twinkling of an eye I was 
 asleep. 
 
 While I slept, on one of these occasions, the fall of the barometer indicated a 
 storm; the wind roared, the thunder rolled, the lightnings flashed; heaven, as we read 
 in Scripture, opened its cataracts. I dreamed of idyllic scenes, of green fields, and 
 pleasant streams. On awaking in the morning, I found my legs buried under a foot of 
 snow, a spotless eider-down as warm as that from the birds' breast. This pleasant life 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZC'O. 
 
 165 
 
 came to an end. We reached Tungasuca, and took the road to Cuzco, through the 
 Quebrada of that name. There unexpected pleasures awaited me. It was the end of 
 December; summer had commenced in the Cordillera. On all sides the beautiful 
 Liliaceae opened their painted blossoms. Youth is vain and presumptuous; I thought at 
 the time that the Flora of the Entre-Sierra had eoqucttishly displayed her sweetest 
 treasures to captivate my fancy : at every step a vegetable marvel drew from me a cry 
 
 ifciiLy^ 
 
 A BED-CHAHBER IN THE COR DILLEK A. 
 
 of enthusiasm; the muleteers, not comprehending my phytological ecstasy, at first 
 thought me a little cracked, but I explained the matter to them; and as my passion 
 for the flowers of their country flattered their national amour-j)vopre, one emulated 
 another in collecting them for me, and bringing them in armfuls. Between Andajes and 
 Urcos I thus accumulated some beautiful specimens. I found all the known species, 
 and added a few new ones to the catalogue of the learned. This magnificent herbal, 
 which should have insured my immortality, was eaten by one of our mules between 
 Huaro and Oropesa. I nearly went out of my mind ; but consoled myself with the reflec- 
 tion, that as nature, symbolized by the phoenix, springs rejuvenescent from her ashes, the 
 plants I had lost would grow again the next year. Then eight years passed away. Every 
 year when spring gave place to summer, wherever I might find myself, a sudden restless- 
 ness, a desire for change, possessed me. I wished that I were a bird, that I might take 
 
1GG 
 
 PERU. 
 
 wing and alight in the midst of these cerros, to collect again my harvest of fragrance. 
 The thing was always impossible. 
 
 Some of my readers, puzzled by this prelude, may perhaps conceive the idea of 
 unrolling the map of America, or of searching in the reports of official travellers, to 
 seek for some information about this Quebrada of Cuzco. Let me hasten to inform 
 
 ALSTRCEMERIAS OP THE QDEBRADA OF CUZCO. 
 
 them that maps and reports are alike silent upon the subject — a regretable omission 
 which it is easy, however, to repair. 
 
 The Quebrada of Cuzco, commonly called by the Indians the Atunquebrada (the 
 Grand Quebrada), is a winding gorge formed by the approximation of a double chain 
 of cerros which take their rise between Acopia and Andajes, trending from south - 
 south-east to north-north-west, over an area of about forty-five miles in length, by 
 a breadth varying from 50 to 500 yards. Broken here and there by a village, a 
 lake, or a curve of the river, this gorge recommences further on, so that it resembles 
 the divided parts of a serpent's body that are said to rejoin each other. In the 
 neighbourhood of Oropesa it suddenly expands in breadth, and its two parallel chains, 
 after having described a gentle curve in the north-west and south-east, approach 
 again some twelve miles further on, thus forming a circular rampart in the plain, at 
 the bottom of which is seated the city of Cuzco. Such is pretty nearly the orographic 
 
A PAST OF THE QUEDEADA OF CUZOO. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 109 
 
 tracing of this gorge, which, during its long course, often varies its aspect and very 
 frequently changes its name. 
 
 Added to its remarkable configuration, the Quebrada of Cuzco enjoys a temperature 
 relatively mild, since in the summer it rises as high as from 64° to 68° Fahrenheit. At 
 this period the melting of the snows in the Cordillera gives rise to small rivers which run 
 through the gorge, watering and fertilizing it for a month or two. All these streams 
 flow noiselessly into the Huilcamayo, a thousand trickling rivulets furrow the flanks 
 of the cerros, reanimating a thousand charming species of vegetation, while the larvae 
 and chrysalises whicli have slept for a year in their obscure cocoons are transformed, 
 
 VILLAGE OF ANDAJES IN THE QUEBRADA OF CUZCO. 
 
 by the heat and humidity combined, into beautiful insects and butterflies radiant 
 with colour. The freshness of the soil and the porousness of the rock give to the 
 grasses, mosses, and lichens which cover them a moist and velvety lustre. All nature 
 is rejuvenescent during this delicious season. Sparrows, blackbirds, turtle-doves 
 profit by it to contract their transitory nuptials ; they pursue each other on the wing, 
 entice each other with eye and beak, declare their affection by means of chirrupings, 
 whistlings, and cooings, and end by building their nests in the branches. 
 
 The reader may comprehend from this sketch in chalks of the Quebrada of Cuzco 
 that its memory was dear to me. I had hurried forward, in fact, to behold again 
 one by one the places where I had so often halted with the muleteers of Azangaro — 
 here to climb the flank of a hill and collect a charming flower; there to kindle a 
 fire of dried sticks and prepare the potatoes for our repast; further on, to pitch our 
 camp, unsaddle the mules, and set up my tent. I say tent merely for the sound 
 of the thing, to round up my sentence — this tent, as the reader knows, being nothing 
 more than a pile of packages. 
 
 To return: more than an hour had passed since our entrance into the Quebrada, 
 and not only had I failed to discover any of the remembered sites, but I had sought 
 in vain for certain plants with which I was familiar, and which I knew should have 
 grown in such and such places. Already we were approaching the village of Andajes, 
 
 22 
 
170 
 
 PERU. 
 
 and a few blackened shrubs with straggling branches, and destitute of foliage, withered 
 grasses, yellow mosses, and the soil cracked by drought, were all the details I could recall. 
 Naturally I thought that after eight years' absence my memory had served me badly, 
 and that we had not yet reached the fertile part of the Quebrada. I contented myself 
 
 
 THE CHINGANA OR CAVE OF QQUEKOH UASI. 
 
 with this idea till we reached Andajes, where we pulled up to buy some coarse bread 
 and morcillas — local puddings made of a mixture of lard and sheep's blood, with 
 underground-nuts, 1 pimento, balsam, and cinnamon. 
 
 Andajes is a village of forty hearths, which recommends itself to the attention 
 of statisticians by its school, open to young men, and its pulperia — a liquor, candle, 
 and grocery store — where we bought our provisions. Andajes has, besides, its legend 
 
 1 Pistaches-de-terre, called mani by the inhabitants ; the Arachis hypogcea of botanists ; called also the earth-pea 
 and underground-nut. They are in pods, which, as they enlarge, bury themselves under the surface of the soil. — Tr. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 171 
 
 and its dungeon, like one of Mrs. Radcliffe's castles. In front of the village, on 
 the right bank of the Htiilcamayo, and on the flank of the cerro Qquerohuasi, there 
 is a chingana, a deep and winding conduit, where the inhabitants of the country 
 believe that at the period of the Conquest the Indians concealed immense treasures 
 to preserve them from the Spaniards. Allured by this tradition, many have searched 
 for these treasures, without succeeding in discovering them. The last of the adventurers 
 — a colonist from Cadiz, named Vidagura — penetrated to the end of the chingana, 
 which, it is said, was very narrow. While he was busy examining the walls of the 
 conduit, an enormous stone fell from the roof and closed the opening, so that the 
 poor fellow was caught as in a trap. 
 
 QUARRY OF THE PERIOD OF THE INCAS. 
 
 About three-quarters of a mile north-north-west of Andajes, on the left bank 
 of the Huilcainayo, and in the neighbourhood of the little lagune of Santa Lucia, 
 the Quebrada of Cuzco slopes away suddenly, and exposes to view in the midst of 
 the cerros a pile of enormous stones perfectly rectangular and worked to remarkably 
 perfect edges. The mountain is riddled with the square excavations from which these 
 blocks have been taken; in the prodigious mass of which an imaginative traveller 
 might easily picture to himself the stones of some unknown Nineveh, or the ruins of 
 a Memphis of which no one had ever dreamed. Massive portals, enormous propyla?a, 
 lofty columns, gaping mouths of caverns, black orifices of underground passages, nothing 
 is wanting to convert it into a city of the good old time like that of Ollanta-Tampu. 
 It is only necessary that an archaeological memoir should be rashly addressed by 
 some traveller to the third class of the French Institute. Let us, however, hasten 
 to prevent any mistake, by explaining that our supposed city is nothing but a quarry 
 of the time of the Gentilklad, and our ruins nothing more than the stones in the 
 extraction of which from the cerros the revolted people had been condemned to 
 
172 PERU. 
 
 work by the Ineas, as were the Athenian captives of old at the Latoniise of 
 Syracuse. 
 
 The ancient quarry was soon left behind us. While trotting along and taking 
 a bite now at my loaf and now at my pistachio -pudding, I examined attentively the 
 landscape, questioning every spot of ground, every stone, every shrub in the march 
 past, if they were not those I had known in the old days. As this research kept 
 me continually raising, lowering, or turning my head, Nor Medina, surprised by my 
 manner, asked if I had lost anything. 
 
 " I have lost all trace of my recollections," I replied. From the peculiar way 
 in which the man looked at me, I concluded that if he had heard, he had not under- 
 stood what I had said. To render it more intelligible, I added, "I am looking for 
 some plants which I cannot find." 
 
 " Vaya pues!" said he, laughing heartily. "Why, there are plants enough, if 
 monsieur will take the trouble to look at them." Then he pointed to clumps of 
 shrivelled leaves, yellow peduncles, and withered stalks, which pretended to grow 
 at the side of the road and on the slopes. " That," said he, " is the huaranhuay, 
 the roots of which serve the Indians of the heights for firing; that is the puquincha, 
 with the flowers of which the women dye their llicllas and their petticoats yellow. 
 Here is the pa rsehuayta, from which they obtain a violet colour; and there the ayrawpu, 
 which gives them a pink. That plant at the foot of the rock is a marfil, which cures 
 fever; and that other further on is the pilli, which is good for a cough. Here is the 
 amancaes, which the Spaniards call the "Lily of the Incas;" 1 and the queratica, called 
 by them the "Saliva of Our Lady." See here, too, the calahuala, the hualhua, and 
 the liuanchaca, to say nothing of the chichipa, good for flavouring soups and broths, 
 and the sacharapacay, which is a capital medicine for bile." 
 
 I dismounted to examine more closely the vegetable mummies which my guide 
 called plants. In a few minutes I was able to recognize the family, the genera, and 
 the species to which each of them had belonged; I say had, because these shapeless 
 blossoms and discoloured petals no more resembled the brilliant flowers which I had 
 admired than a corpse eaten by worms resembles the woman who has taken one's 
 heart suddenly captive. 
 
 The sight of this vegetable charnel-house, where so many delicate, charming, per- 
 fumed beauties had rotted pell-mell, had sobered my usually buoyant humour. Gloomy 
 visions passed and repassed before my mind's eye. After a moment's silence my 
 guide remarked in a loud tone, that I seemed sad; "What is monsieur dreaming of?" 
 he asked. 
 
 " I am dreaming," I replied, " of the brevity of existence and the nothingness of 
 all things. Eight years ago, come St. Sylvester, I passed this spot for the first time. 
 I was young, ardent, and enthusiastic; all nature seemed to smile upon me. The 
 streams ran, the birds sang, the flowers bloomed as if to salute me on my journey. 
 
 1 The botanists who have succeeded to Ruiz and Pa von, and the horticulturists who have simply followed their 
 example, have given the name of "Lily of the Incas" to several varieties of Alstrcemeria, originally from Peru 
 and Chili. They are wrong, however. The only Liliacete which the Peruvians call "Lily of the Iucas," is, as we have 
 before explained, the Narcissus amancaes. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 173 
 
 Now in these same scenes she regards me with sullen looks. The streams have dwindled 
 to a drop of water, the birds have taken flight, and the flowers with all their beautiful 
 tints look like tinder. . . . gioventu, primavera deUa vita!" 
 
 These philosophical reflections were such as one should politely hear and leave 
 unanswered; but Nor Medina thought proper to reply — 
 
 "From all that monsieur has said, I only understand one thing: that he was 
 journeying here in the summer time, when it is not surprising there should have 
 been water, and birds, and flowers; while now that we are passing here in July, 
 
 QUIQUIJANA, THE "MOST FAITHFUL" CUT. 
 
 that is to say in winter, it ought not to astonish him that there is nothing of the 
 kind." 
 
 I looked at my guide out of the corner of my eye. " After all," I said to myself, 
 "this devil of a man has sense enough, and even exactness of observation: only, 
 where are the reason and exactitude lodged?" From that hour Nor Medina grew 
 considerably in my esteem. I did not, however, let him perceive that I set more 
 value upon him, as this would have given him a too advantageous idea of himself, 
 and by-and-by perhaps had caused him to sin by encouraging pride. 
 
 Sufficiently refreshed bj" the lunch we ate on the way, we' passed through without 
 stopping at the town of Quicpiijana, called in the Peruvian charts the "Most Faithful." 
 This Hispano-American fashion of honouring cities by prefixing some sounding epithet 
 
174 PERU. 
 
 to their names would not be in such bad taste were it not abused. If a village, 
 for example, shows so much sympathy for some candidate to the presidency as to 
 aid his pretensions by the secret gift of a thousand piastres, the place is sure to 
 be recompensed with some such title as the Faithful, the Heroic, or the Well-deserving. 
 The political existence of the successful candidate may be as short-lived as the roses; 
 the village he has ennobled keeps the crown of the causeway nevertheless. This 
 is the evil side of the custom. When in matters of caprice, of fashion, or of transient 
 prepossession, the cause ceases, the effect ought to cease also — ask the fair sex of 
 Peru if it be not so — and be it remembered, the nomination of a president never 
 was anything but an affair of fashion. 
 
 Quiquijana, the "Most Faithful," is nothing but a jumble of houses, a little 
 pretentious, a little the effect of accident. The roofs of five or six of them have 
 bright red tiles; the others are modestly thatched. The landscape in which these 
 houses are framed is picturesque enough, with its round-backed mountains and its 
 tine contrasts of shade and light, Here and there are cultivated patches, orchards 
 surrounded with walls higher than the apples, cherries, and quinces- — the only fruit- 
 trees found in the country — which enliven while they complete the physiognomy of 
 the picture. The Huilcamayo 1 flows through the town and divides it into two parts, 
 which are connected by a stone bridge built only a few years ago. 
 
 A detail which I had not noticed before, but with which I was struck on passing 
 through Quiquijana on this occasion, is the breadth of the river-bed. Just now 
 it was dry, and was more plentifully strewn with stones than the sky with stars. Of 
 the proud river itself, so irrepressibly boisterous in the summer, there remained only 
 a rippling stream, which ran noiselessly under the central arch of the bridge, laving 
 with its crystalline water the pebbles of black porphyry. I pulled up to examine 
 the matter more leisurely ; the impression it made, and Avhich returns at this moment, 
 was one of astonishment bordering on incredulity. I asked myself how so small a 
 river could swell into so vast a space and roll in its course such stones as I there saw. 
 The ways of God are inscrutable! 
 
 The country situated to the north of Quiquijana is fertile and well cultivated. 
 Lucerne, or Spanish trefoil, grows in the low bottoms; maize and wheat flourish on 
 the slopes; potatoes occupy the plateaux; barley and the Chenopodium Quinoa grow in 
 higher regions still. The whole landscape as far as Urcos, twelve miles distant, has 
 the creditable and jiatriarchal look of a well-to-do farmer; there is nothing angular 
 or violent in its contours, nothing sharp or decided in its blending shades. It is dull, 
 calm, and satisfactory. 
 
 The road we were following is marked by soft undulations, stretches of sand 
 alternating with pretty bits of fresh -looking sward and clumps of grasses which, in 
 
 1 After leaving Quiquijana the Huilcamayo takes the name of the Rio de Quiquijana, which it retains as far 
 as Urcos, where it assumes the name of that village. The last French traveller who passed through this country before 
 the author's visit, made a mistake in calling this portion of the river the Urubamba, even at a distance of eighty miles 
 from that town. It is awkward enough that the rivers of Peru should assume the names of the towns by which they 
 flow, without receiving them so long in advance. But, in fact, before taking the name of the river of Urubamba. 
 the Huilcamayo, after leaving Quiquijana, bears in succession six different names. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 i •> 
 
 the eyes of the ants, may be virgin forests. The temperature, becoming milder as 
 we advance, seems to invite the traveller to dismount, throw aside hat, coat, and shoes, 
 and walk barefoot, smoking a cigar, on the tender grass of the roadside. Agreeably 
 occupied by all that surrounds him he is insensible to fatigue, and forgets the length 
 of the road he is traversing. Before he is aware of it, he finds himself at Urcos. 
 
 Urcos is the chief place in the province of Quispicanchi. It is a large village, built 
 on an eminence, the houses of which leave much to be desired both in regard to their 
 architectural appearance and their cleanliness. It is nevertheless distinguished for 
 two remarkable possessions — its lagune and its valley. Its lagune, called the Mohina, 
 spreads its waters at the bottom of the eminence on which the village is situated. 
 
 THE VILLAGE OP URCOS AND THE MOHINA LAGUNE. 
 
 The communication between it and the village is by a zigzag path traced out rather 
 than excavated in the wall of the rock, — which on this side is perpendicular, and about 
 900 feet high. 
 
 The Mohina, half surrounded by high mountains, is about three miles in circuit. 
 Its water is at once brackish and bitter. Its depth varies from 90 to 130 feet. 
 Rushes, reeds, and here and there a few stunted shrubs, impart a look of verdure 
 to its borders. A few water-fowl, consisting of red-teal, grebes, and huananas — large 
 ducks with brown plumage — disport themselves on its surface. In the daytime, when 
 the sky is serene, and the sleeping lagune wears a golden sheen in the sun's light, the 
 effect is ravishing. At night, when all is calm, and the silver light of the moon is 
 broken by dark shadows cast from the neighbouring mountains, it is more ravishing 
 still. 
 
 There is a tradition, which the European traveller to whom it is recited never fails 
 to interpolate in his narrative, that this lake contains the chain of gold which the 
 twelfth Inca, Huayna Capac, caused to be made when the hair of his eldest son Inti- 
 
176 
 
 PERU. 
 
 Cusi Huallpa (alias Huascar) was first cut. This specimen of goldsmith's work, which 
 one might suppose to be a simple neck-chain, was, on the contrary, of the size of a 
 ship's cable, and 800 yards long. It served to encircle the great square of Cuzco 
 during the fetes of the equinox, Raymi and Cittna. On the arrival of the Spaniards, 
 the Indians, it is reported, threw their colossal bit of jewelry into the lake to save it 
 from the cupidity of the conquerors. They, however, heard of this artifice, and sent a 
 detachment of pioneers to recover the treasure by emptying the lake. Canals were 
 duo- below the level of its bed. Forty Spaniards and two hundred Indians laboured at 
 the work for three months. But whether it was that the lake was inexhaustible, or 
 that the story of the chain was fabulous, the conquerors had only their labour for 
 their pains. The traces Avhich still remain of their canals have suggested to certain 
 savans of the country, anxious to show their sagacity, that the Mohina was an artificial 
 lake made by the Incas, and that its waters had been brought from a distance. 1 
 
 The so-called valley of Urcos is a space of about 8000 square yards, surrounded 
 with mountains, and rendered comparatively fertile by the mildness of the temperature 
 and the neighbourhood of the river. Besides vegetable crops (legumes), they harvest 
 maize and wheat. Apples, peai's, and strawberries ripen, but do not become sweet, 
 nor acquire any relish or smell. The people of the country, who are vegetarians and 
 not hard to please, cheerfully accommodate themselves to the circumstances, but 
 Europeans and inhabitants of the south cannot help making an ugly grimace when they 
 bite these fruits. 
 
 To the taxidermist, the valley of Urcos has nothing to offer in the shape of birds, 
 except the carrion -vulture (Sarcoramphtis urubu), a subject little interesting, and 
 unsavoury besides; a Conirostre, with black and white plumage, called by the Indians 
 choclopococho, 2 which only makes its appearance when the wheat is ripe, and disappears 
 when the harvest is gathered in; a species of tarin (the Citrinella); a crested sparrow; 
 three varieties of turtle-doves; a blackbird with orange-coloured feet (chihuancd) ; and 
 the swallow with a white rurup that we have seen flying in the neighbourhood of 
 Arequipa. 
 
 To the entomologist who is strong enough to lift or displace the great stones which 
 are scattered over the country, the environs of Urcos offer a few millepedes (a species 
 of centipede, of which the Julus is the type) ; some crustacean isopods (woodlice) ; some 
 Mygales (mining-spiders) ; a few beetles of the CaraMdw and Cicindelidw families 
 (sparklers) ; to say nothing of those heocapodal Apterce of the parasitic and sucking 
 genera which, under the name of fleas, &c, lay their eggs indifferently in the thatch 
 of the houses and the bodies of the indigenes. 
 
 If from the earth and the air Ave pass to the liquid element, as fine writers say, we 
 shall not find in the waters of the Huilcamayo - Quiquijana more than two fishes, of 
 the family of the Silurida?, the bagre and the suchi, whose length does not exceed 
 
 1 Such an explanation might have been admissible in a part of Peru where water was wanting to irrigate the lands. 
 But the Huilcamayo flowed below the village of Urcos in the time of the Incas as in our days, aud the immediate neigh- 
 bourhood of that river rendered useless the creation of an artificial lake. 
 
 2 Literally, the precursor of the maize, or who announces the maturity of the maize: from sara-choclo (spike of maize), 
 and poco-chanqui (one who announces). 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 i i 
 
 six inches. Sometimes an otter, with a skin as black as jet, timidly shows his nose 
 between the rocks on either side of the river, but so rarely that the inhabitants of the 
 country, partly on that account and partly from their mania for ennobling everything, 
 have surnamed the animal the river-lion (mai/u-puma). The flesh of this lion, according 
 to tradition, is as delicate as that of the fishes on which it feeds. I say tradition, 
 because out of more than a hundred individuals whom I have questioned about the 
 mayu-puma, not one had tasted its flesh, but had heard his father speak of it, who 
 probably got the information from his grandfather. 
 
 From the village of Urcos we descended towards that of Huaro by a gentle slope. 
 The road is broad and conveniently smooth. On the right and left extend cultivated 
 fields, interrupted now and then by great barreu spaces. Cerros of a reddish hue, with 
 bare summits and a clothing of verdure at their base, form the framework of this 
 picture, which the people of the country qualify as vistoso— beautiful to behold. 
 
 Huaro is situated a little more than a mile (two kilos.) from Urcos, and on the 
 left of the road. It is a fair-sized but dull village, far from well built. The moun- 
 tains, very lofty here, and disposed in a semicircle, throw a grayish shadow over the 
 locality, so that its gardens and orchards have the soft and undecided hues of an 
 aqua-tint drawing, and consequently look rather strange. Besides this voluptuous 
 half-light, which is peculiar to it, Huaro possesses a square plaza, a few houses built 
 of stone, and many more mud ranchos. Its church, comparatively a large one, is 
 remarkable for the weather-cock on one of its towers. Its material is a yellow copper; 
 its spindle is triumphantly planted on a ball, which sparkles brilliantly in the sun, 
 thanks to the weekly furbishing to which it is subjected by the bell-ringer. The organ 
 of Huaro is renowned for its power and the number of its stops. It is even asserted 
 by amateurs of the country, that it excels the organ of Yauri in the province of Canas. 1 
 I can give no opinion on the subject myself, not having heard either of them. They 
 are rarely played, as there are but few organists in the country. 
 
 Huaro possesses two manufactories of bayetas and bayetons, coarse cloths, similar 
 to the woollen stuff which French manufacturers technically call tibaude. Nothing 
 more poverty-stricken can be imagined than the sheds where these tissues are made 
 by work-people of both sexes; nor anything more primitive than their looms. The 
 first consist of four ruinous-looking walls and a roof of thatch, where the industrious 
 Arachne sets an example to artizans by weaving her nets to catch flies; the second are 
 nothing more than crossed sticks tied together by simple threads. 
 
 The province of Quispicanchi, where learning is somewhat honoured, contains no 
 fewer than seven schools; among which that of Huaro is the most celebrated. One 
 might even with some reason call it the university of Quispicanchi, because it is the 
 only school in that pi'ovince where the scholars are taught, in addition to the fables of 
 Yriarte and the Spanish grammar, to decline the substantives homo, mulier, and cornu, 
 in the rudiments. 
 
 Beyond Huaro, the Quebrada of Cuzco becomes broader and broader. We 
 
 1 It ia to the Jesuits that the greater number of the cities of Peru, and some villages in the Sierra, are indebted for 
 the remarkable organs we find in their churches. 
 
 VOL. I. 23 
 

 178 PEKU. 
 
 travelled over a road, or rather a smooth and broad footpath, which Nature, the only 
 road-maker in Peru, had kept in her best possible order, notwithstanding the frequency 
 of the heavy rains and the displacements of earth which they occasioned. About nine 
 miles of road sepai'ate Huaro from Andahuaylillas, a village which has nothing re- 
 markable to show in the summer, except the pools of water and the marshes left by 
 the rains of winter. This village, where the sub-prefect of Quispicanchi has his 
 residence, instead of living, as he ought to do, at Urcos, the chief place of his province, 
 is called a city in the official calendars. To those who feel astonished at the substitution 
 of such a title, we must explain that it would be derogatory to the dignity of a sub- 
 prefect to live in a village. From consideration for the rank of this functionary, 
 therefore, the statisticians of the country have raised to the rank of a city the village in 
 which he has chosen to reside, not from any love of the picturesque, but to look after a 
 farm which he possesses there. 
 
 Andahuaylillas, situated at the base of the cerros on ground gently sloping to the 
 south-east, enjoys at all times a sufficiently agreeable temperature. Maize, wheat, 
 and green crops grow very well, and fruit-trees make a great show of flowers. As 
 to the quality of their fruit, it is like that of all the orchards between Quiquijana 
 and Cuzco ; that is to say, the best of it is worthless. In vain the arborists of 
 the country, enraged to see their produce so depreciated by strangers, prune, and 
 dig, and remove the insects from the trees, with the view of obtaining better results. 
 The Sun-god, to punish these indigenes for their apostasy, refuses to sweeten their 
 apples and pears, and scarcely consents to give them a touch of colour. Such is, at 
 least we believe so, the only way of accounting for the acidity of the fruits in the 
 Quebrada of Cuzco. 
 
 The same statisticians who, out of consideration for a sub-prefect, have given the 
 name of a city to the village of Andahuaylillas, have given the name of a valley to 
 the arable lands which surround it. That valley, to preserve its fine-sounding title, 
 changes its name three miles further on; and instead of the valley of Andahuaylillas, 
 which it was, becomes the valley of Lucre. The traveller who, on the faith of a 
 Peruvian calendar, should look for a valley among these patches of clover and corn, 
 would be surprised to find nothing even approaching that character. The place is 
 simply a farm-stead, around which are grouped, in beautiful disorder, pens for cattle 
 and hovels for peasants. Here they grow with success maize, wheat, and green crops; 
 and here they weave their bayeta and their bayeton, to the great disgust of Huaro, with 
 whose industry, in so near a neighbourhood, it interferes a little. We regret very 
 much that we have nothing more, and especially that we have nothing better, to say of 
 the place. 
 
 To the valley of Lucre, which is adorned, without being improved in a sanitary 
 sense, by a muddy little lake, succeeds on the right of the great road the village of 
 Oropesa. Oropesa, dear to Ceres, is renowned sixty miles round for its cornfields, and 
 its little loaves made with lard, with which, from time immemorial, it has every morning 
 supplied the market of Cuzco. It is the Odessa of the Quebrada. The wheat of 
 Oropesa is at once of superior quality and of a good yield. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 179 
 
 Besides its reputation for wheat, Oropesa enjoys a title of honour. It figures in 
 the Peruvian maps as "the Heroic." This title was given to it after an engagement 
 which took place on the neighbouring heights some five-and-twenty years ago. Muse 
 of the epopee, divine Clio, aid me to relate this feat of arms!— Two generals of the 
 country contended for the presidential chair, each supported by a battalion of from 
 five to six hundred men. The opposing forces, after having been in search of each 
 other for a month, met one morning, ensign, colours, and music at their head, on the 
 heights of Oropesa. The shock was terrible and the struggle fearful. "Flesh of wolf, 
 
 OEOPESA, "THE HEROIC TOWN. 
 
 tooth of dog," says Father Mathieu. Not only did the soldiers of the two camps tear 
 each other with rage, but the rabonas, savage vivandieres, whom every foot- soldier 
 has to follow him in the character of sweetheart, cook, and beast of burden, clawed 
 at each other's hair, biting and scratching until their petticoats were reduced to a 
 bundle of rags. In the heat of the engagement, and while the victory was in suspense, 
 each of the pretenders, seized with a sudden panic, judging the battle to be lost and 
 his cause hopeless, turned bridle and fled from the field, the one north, the other south, 
 without any other escort than a faithful aide-de-camp with a remount. 
 
 While these warriors devoured space in their headlong flight, victory declared for 
 one of the two armies, whose chief was instantly pursued by some of his officers to 
 announce that he had gained the battle. The conqueror refused to believe the tidings, 
 fearing to be taken in some snare; at length, however, he was sufficiently convinced to 
 turn back, and seeing no signs of his competitor on the field, but the soldiers of the 
 two armies peaceably playing at dice together, he yielded to the evidence of his senses. 
 To perpetuate the memory of this feat of arms, the village of Oropesa received the title 
 of the "Heroic Town," which it continues to bear at the present time. If I do not 
 write in so many letters the names of the pretenders, as I have a perfect right to do, 
 
180 
 
 PERU. 
 
 since they belong to history and are in every Peruvian's mouth, it is because these 
 pretenders have sufficiently expiated, in the obscurity of their present position, the 
 pride of their ancient triumphs. They have both, like Cincinnatus, returned to the 
 plough, — both cultivate, in a humble way, a few potatoes and beans. Let us respect 
 their humility and their incognito. 
 
 When the traveller has seen at Oropesa its cornfields, its stunted misshapen 
 trees, and its tiled and thatched houses; when he has looked up, on the right of the 
 village, a ruin of fine pink-coloured sandstone, which dates from the time of the first 
 
 •^ 
 
 A SOLDIER OF THE SIERRA AND HIS RARONA OR TIVAXDIKRE. 
 
 Incas — a ruin which modern savants are obstinately bent on taking for the gate of an 
 edifice, but which is nothing more than the arch of an aqueduct, — he may continue his 
 journey. Oropesa is the frontier line which separates the province of Quispicanchi from 
 that of Cuzco. After walking a few steps northward, we are in the province which 
 the people in the time of the Incas held to be sacred. We tread on the classic ground 
 of Inti-Churi, whom in everyday language we call the Sun. 
 
 As the Quebrada widened more and more — a certain sign that we were approaching 
 Cuzco — Nor Medina became more and more chatty and communicative. His gaiety, 
 for a long time restrained by the various incidents of the journey, the break-neck 
 ground, the storms, the disagreeable lodgings, the annoyance of having to obey when he 
 wished to command, and the uncertainty of knowing whether the mules which he had 
 lent me would arrive safe and sound, set free by his deliverance from these apprehen- 
 sions, asserted itself in a deluge of words, intermixed with bursts of laughter and merry 
 conceits. I made a study of the man while listening to his chatter. Apart from his 
 ticklish sensibility, and his insane idea that he was travelling for his own pleasure, and 
 not for mine— a notion which I had always done my best to combat — there was 
 no more honest or worthy creature than Nor Medina, and I never so thoroughly 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 181 
 
 appreciated his virtues and his faults than at the moment when I was about to part 
 from him for ever. Since our departure from Oropesa his conversation had been quite 
 poetical, referring to the pleasures of returning home, the joy of seeing again a beloved 
 wife, of embracing the dear children, of shaking hands with friends, and of enjoying 
 their company for an hour or two in the cabarets. Having neither wife nor children, 
 possessing no friend in the country, and doubting the cabarets, both on account of the 
 liquor they supply and the vermin that swarm in them, the little pleasures which 
 Nor Medina passed before my eyes like the painted slides of a magic lantern, had 
 but little interest for me, and I let him run on at his pleasure without hazarding a 
 remark. Judging the matter pretty correctly, he turned the conversation on myself, 
 telling me of the tertulias (evening-parties), the balls, banquets, and cavalcades which 
 awaited me at Cuzco. When he had done enumerating the pleasures that the old 
 City of the Sun had to offer to the visitor, I informed him that I did not calculate on 
 remaining any longer at Cuzco than might be necessary to make some purchases 
 and do up a few packages, but should at once leave, with a guide, for one of the three 
 valleys of Lares, Occobamba, or Santa Ana, I did not yet know which; and that from 
 thence I should push on into the interior of the country. 
 
 "Where then is monsieur going?" he asked, with an astonished air. 
 
 ' ' Always forward ! " 
 
 "One might go a long journey that way," he said, "only monsieur does not know 
 that beyond the Cordillera he will find heathen — Chunchos we call them — and these 
 savages will pierce him with arrows like St. Sebastian." 
 
 "Nonsense," I said; "I will win their hearts in the manner of Orpheus, and the 
 bows and arrows will fall from their hands." 
 
 " Valgame Dios! and monsieur will do that/?" 
 
 "I will do a little music. We know the savage is sensible to harmony, and to 
 develop that sensibility to my profit, I will take care to buy at Cuzco, in the market of 
 Baratillo, an accordion and a Jews'-harp." 
 
 Nor Medina looked at me, du haut en bas, Avith a singular air. Then, shaking his 
 head : — 
 
 "Oh senor, sefior," he said, in a grave and almost solemn tone, "it is not right to jest 
 upon such a subject. I know well enough that the people of your nation make a joke of 
 everything ; but believe what a poor man says to you, who has not had the opportunity 
 like you to read books. There are things that one ought to respect, under the penalty 
 of provoking the wrath of God upon our heads." 
 
 As he ended speaking, the worthy arricro passed from the left hand to the right 
 the bridle of his mule, and making him wheel about, placed himself at a respectful 
 distance from me, as was his custom when I said anything to shock his preconceived 
 opinions, to avoid contact with me; in this way I followed his example in the line of 
 honest and childlike simplicity by affecting unconsciousness of the fact. Besides, as 
 our journey was drawing near its end, and our mutual relations would soon necessarily 
 cease, a whim more or less was of no consequence. While I made these reflections we 
 arrived at San Jeronimo. 
 
182 
 
 PERU. 
 
 San Jeronimo is a village of no importance. That which distinguishes it from 
 most of the villages of the Sierra, is that, in place of presenting like them the figure 
 of a parallellogram or a trapezium, the houses are arranged in a double line on each 
 side of the Cuzco road. The air, the light, the openness which it enjoys, the fields 
 of wheat, of maize, of beans, of lucerne, and of- potatoes which surround it, render it, 
 if not an absolutely pleasant abode, at least a tranquil, decent, and healthy one. As for 
 specialities, the village contains nothing more remarkable than a third-class pulperia—a 
 liquor and grocery store — five or six chicha or beer houses, and the blackened forge of 
 a farrier, of which one might see the anvil as we pass by, but would never hear the 
 
 SAN JERONIMO, A VILLAGE IN THE QOEBRADA OF OUZCO. 
 
 hammer. Add to this, the disreputable looking paunch-bellied little boys, of the colour 
 of bistre, playing about the doors, the starved-looking dogs lying about the road which 
 take to biting either man or beast that disturbs their siesta, the fowls scratching 
 among the bushes, the pigeons cooing upon the roofs, — and you will have an exact 
 photograph of San Jeronimo. 
 
 Three or four miles of road separate San Jeronimo from San Sebastian, a village 
 of the same family as the last. It is situated on the right of the main road, and 
 presents to the eye a close and compact looking collection of grayish walls and red 
 roofs. The Huatanay, a river which serves as the sewer of Cuzco, passes by San 
 Sebastian and rolls the tribute of its stinking waters into the Huilcamayo-Quiquijana, 
 between Huaro and Urcos. San Sebastian recommends itself to attention by its lofty 
 church, it has two square towers crowned with cupolas, which appear all the higher 
 from contrast with the lowness of the houses, for, as the reader knows, we speak of a 
 giant among pigmies, or an oak among mushrooms. All the inhabitants of the locality, 
 resembling those of the provinces Vascongadas, are hidalgos before birth, and accounted 
 such when born. They all bear the primitive blazonry of the Incas, namely, the 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 183 
 
 Egyptian pylone (gate of a temple) in an azure field surmounted by a cuntur (condor) 
 with expanded wings. If these prerogatives astonish any of my readers, let me inform 
 them that the Indians — Cholos, M^tis, and mixed breeds — who inhabit San Sebastian 
 are all scions of the Quispe, Mamani, and Condori, three illustrious families, and the only 
 ones in the country who have descended in a direct line from the Sun, by the emperor 
 Manco-Capac and the empress Mama Occllo Huaco. As a conscientious narrator 
 I must add that these historic families are a little, fallen from their ancient splendour. 
 In these days it is not rare to see a Quispe walking barefoot for want of shoes, and 
 driving before him a flock of sheep; a Mamani selling cabbages, carrots, and other 
 
 SAN SEBASTIAN, 
 
 vegetables in the market of Cuzco; and a Condori giving his services as a water-carrier 
 or a groom for the small sum of five francs a month. Such scenes are afflicting to 
 remember! Happily for the unfortunate nobles whose origin and ancient grandeur we 
 have here recalled, they are all, in some degree, philosophers. They console themselves 
 by reflecting that Apollo-Phoebus, their divine ancestor, kept the flocks of Admetus; 
 that a king of Babylon was reduced to eat grass, and a tyrant of Syracuse taught 
 children to read. These illustrious examples of decadence enable them to put a 
 good face on their precarious position. Besides, a liberal use of brandy, chicha, and 
 coca assists to banish from their thoughts every painful idea relative to the past. 
 
 After leaving San Sebastian, the cerros which bound the horizon draw together, 
 and form, as it were, a circular wall. Cuzco, which we are not yet able to descry, is 
 situated at their base. In our progress northward we discover, like a landmark on the 
 talus at the left of the road, a tree, whose rugged and creviced trunk, exposed roots, 
 and meagre foliage, bear witness to extreme old age. It is of it that one might say, 
 Durando, secula vincit; for the tree in question, if one may believe a local tradition, 
 was planted by the Inca Capac Yupanqui, and dates from the middle of the thirteenth 
 
184 
 
 PERU. 
 
 century. This patriarchal vegetable belongs to the family of the Capparidaceae. The 
 people of the country call it the Chachacumayoc, "Tree of Farewells." Every one who 
 leaves Cuzco is supposed to come in company with his relations, friends, and acquaint- 
 ances to sit under the shadow of this tree to exchange adieus. They take care to 
 provide themselves with eatables and drinkables, and to bring a guitar. They leave 
 the city in good order. At the entrance of the plain, from which the Chachacumayoc 
 
 "FAREWELL-TREE" BETWEEN SAN SEBASTIAN AND CUZCO. 
 
 becomes visible, they stop, form a circle, and all drink a glass of brandy to the health 
 of the symbolic tree. They do the same when they stand beneath its shadow. This 
 fashion of drinking altogether in a circle, is called doing the wheel (hacer-la-nieda). 
 After these two wheels, a tribute paid to old customs, they sit down hap-hazard, the 
 provisions are taken out of the wallets, the decanters, jugs, and leathern bottles ranged 
 in line of battle, and the action begins at once at every point. For half a day they 
 eat, they drink, they laugh, they sing, they dance; and when the parting moment 
 arrives they weep, and sob, and lament round the traveller, who for his part weeps, 
 and sobs, and laments with them. In fine, they fill up a last cup, that of the despedidn, 
 or final adieu, and after having tenderly embraced their friend and called down upon 
 his head the blessings of Heaven, they leave him, stupified with grief and perfectly 
 drunk, to go where duty calls him. The band of relations, friends, and acquaintances 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 185 
 
 then take, untowardly, the road to Cuzco, to continue, for their own sakes, the festival 
 commenced under the Farewell-tree for the sake of the traveller. 
 
 At the moment when we passed the Chachacumayoc, two Indians of the humbler 
 class, a man and a woman, were in the act of exchanging tender adieus. Neither of 
 them were drinking, but both appeared to have drunk more than usual. Our ill-timed 
 appearance interrupted their tete-d-tete ; the man, however, put a good face on the 
 matter, and smiled as he raised his hat. The woman, on the contrary, lowered 
 her head, and turned her back upon us, as if she were examining the stuff of her 
 petticoat. 
 
 Ten minutes afterwards we came — I say we, out of politeness and respect for the age 
 of my guide, for the man uncivilly kept himself aloof and pretended not to regard 
 anything I did — we came, I say, on the right of the road and on the flank of the cerros, 
 
 CHURCH AND CONVENT OP LA RECOLETA. 
 
 to the convent of La Recoleta, 1 whose architectural mass, in the form of a long square, 
 looked proudly down on the plain. Happy memories crowded on me at the sight 
 of this edifice. How often, after my botanical excursions in the environs, I had rested 
 in the shadow of its galleries, and amused myself by criticizing the attempts in poly- 
 chrome which covered their walls under the title of frescoes! The prior, a fine old 
 man of the colour of mahogany, whom I frequently encountered in my visits, and who 
 each time had seen me smiling on his pictures, had conceived a friendship for me 
 under the mistaken idea that my smile was the effect of admiration. Instead of 
 undeceiving him in this respect, I chose rather to countenance his mistake, an innocent 
 bit of deceit, to which I was indebted at various times for a bit of something dainty 
 to eat, a glass of liquor to drink, and a cigarette to smoke. As the good father had 
 then counted seventeen lustrums (eighty-five years), he has probably flown joyous towards 
 the eternal abodes — sedes wternas laetus advolavit, as says the epitaph of Father Juan de 
 Matta, his predecessor, engraved upon a marble slab in the chapel. I can only show 
 
 'This is the most modern of the convents of Cuzco. It was built in 1599 at the cost of a rich anil charitable 
 Spaniard, named Torribio de Bustamente, and his first prior was the reverend father Francisco de Valesco, a native of the 
 mountains of Burgos in Spain, as his epitaph, written in the Latin of the country, informs us. 
 
 vol I. 24 
 
18G PERU. 
 
 my gratitude by a vain regret and a pious tear to his memory ; but God I hope will 
 repay the worthy prior in my name and in another world for the cakes and sweets 
 I have eaten at his expense in this. 
 
 The friendship of the prior caused me to be treated with consideration by the 
 monks. The deans of the chapter were pleased to question me about the manners 
 and customs of Frauce, which seemed to them as fabulous an empire as that of Cathay 
 or the Grand Khan of Tartary once did to us. The gate-keeper, seated under the 
 entrance porch, where from evening to morning he occupied himself in knitting 
 stockings while keeping an eye on the wicket, never failed, on seeing me at a distance, 
 to open the gate in advance, and plant himself on the threshold to wait my arrival. 
 After the customary compliments he would beg a few cigarettes of me, and while I 
 took a turn in the cloister he would carefully put to cool in a pail of water the plants 
 I had collected. Sometimes on leaving I gratified him with a silver real to buy tobacco 
 and brandy, two things for which he had a singular affection. Then he exhausted 
 his eloquence in pouring eulogiums upon me, and, along with the warmest benedictions, 
 gave me the pompous title of "Excellence? When, however, it happened that I had 
 forgotten my purse or had no money, he forgot to bless me, and sainted me coldly 
 and briefly as plain "Senor." 
 
 As to the younger monks, I had so often surprised them in the neighbouring 
 cabarets with a jug of chicha at their lips, or their gown tucked in their girdle and 
 their hat doubled up ready to dance the forbidden samacuecas when the reverend 
 fathers were taking a siesta, that they only smiled when they saw me, as at an old 
 acquaintance. Regarding me as an amiable moralist, disposed, as much by nature as 
 by conviction, to excuse human failings, they were not afraid of my knowing their 
 little secrets. Honest fellows! Seeing them, at an age so inexperienced, such lovers 
 of the bottle and the dance, how often I have said to myself, "What capital monks 
 these little friars will one day make!" 
 
 The memories called up by the sight of the convent of La Eecoleta sunk into 
 oblivion again as its walls disappeared from view betwixt the hills. We were now 
 passing a spot famous in the annals of the country for the revels of which it has 
 been for a long time past, and still is, the scene. It is a green and almost circular 
 space, with here and there a few small houses, a farm, or an orchard. At the further 
 extremity, in a bluish distance, this space opens to a gorge formed by the cerros, 
 whose rounded backs, rising one behind another, resemble an immense ladder which 
 reaches from the earth to the heavens. The inhabitants call it the Corridor-du-Ciel, 
 no doubt by way of antiphrasis, for if this pretended ladder leads anywhere it is to 
 hell. A site which nature seems to have formed for the idyllic intercourse of some 
 local Tityrus and Melibceus, has been transformed by man into a sort of tilting ground 
 or bacchic arena, to which both sexes of Cuzco resort, bottle in hand, and defy each 
 other to drink the hardest and dance the best to the sweet sounds of the guitar. 
 It would need the inspiration of a Homer to record the assaults of arms which during 
 two centuries the citizens of Cuzco have delivered in this place, and the number of the 
 dead, the dying, and the wounded that have been left on the battle-field. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 18i 
 
 After passing the Corridor-du-Ciel, we came to a wild and barren-looking spot on 
 the right of the road, called the "Devil's Pulpit" (Ckaire-du-Diable). The property of 
 his satanic majesty consists of a mass of rock standing alone in the foreground of two 
 cerros which are united at their base, and in the smooth and almost perpendicular 
 
 THE COKKIDOK-DU-CIEL. 
 
 sides of which there are square openings from which the Indians in the time of the 
 Incas had quarried stones. These black-looking holes, at an elevation of some thirty 
 feet from the soil, and without a road or path of any kind leading to them, look 
 like empty eye-balls with which the mountain glares on the passers-by. 
 
 A short distance from the sites just described, two curiosities of a different kind 
 attract attention at the same time. On the right is a quarry of porphyritic sandstone, 
 from winch the same Indians who made the before-mentioned excavations had taken 
 those enormous blocks, which are still regarded with astonishment. Only, after 
 
iss 
 
 PERU. 
 
 extracting the stone, instead of leaving a gaping orifice encumbered with fragments, 
 as our quarrymen are accustomed to do, the Quichuas had cut out a beautiful 
 monolithic chamber some thirty feet square, with a ceiling panelled in relief, and 
 three divans along the three sides, upon which one might recline to take a siesta, or 
 sit down to await the end of a shower. 
 
 On closely examining this work of the pagans, as the fools of the country stupidly 
 call every monument which dates anterior to the Spanish conquest, one hardly knows 
 whether to admire more the metallic hardness of the material or the perfection of 
 the work. These walls, this ceiling, these seats, which it would be difficult to scratch 
 
 THE "DEVIL'S PULPIT," NEAR CUZCO. 
 
 with the point of a knife, look as if they had been wrought and polished by a quarry- 
 man who was at the same time a skilled mason. A cabinetmaker of our time could 
 not polish more perfectly a piece of rosewood or mahogany furniture. 
 
 On the other side of the road, as if to parody this monolithic chamber, there stands 
 in the midst of a copse of alerces and capulis (the alders and cherry-trees of the 
 country) a thatched hut, with mud-built walls. The sign of salvation is placed on its 
 summit, and two nucchos (Salvia splendens peruviana), with seagreen leaves and brilliant 
 purple flowers, entwine their branches over its arched entrance. This hut is the beaterio 
 or beguinage of the Recoleta. I cannot say on what day of the year the devotees 
 of Cuzco make their pilgrimage here, or what antiphon is chanted on the occasion; but 
 what I am certain of is, that the place has for its guardians, or its triple-headed 
 Cerberus, three old witches, who came very near one day to scratching my face because 
 I had picked a flower on their estate! 
 
 These holy, amphibious beings, the bats of Catholicism, half-rat half-bird, allied to 
 women of the world by their muffler and their coiffure, and to nuns by their sober- 
 coloured petticoats, their leathern girdle, and their paraphernalia of beads, have been 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 189 
 
 constituted guardians of the beguinagc, with the duty of keeping everything in order, 
 washing the altar-cloths, furbishing up the brass instruments, and singing the praises of 
 the Almighty in the idiom of the Quichuas; but instead of washing, polishing, and 
 singing, as they have engaged to do, they pass their time in drinking ehicha, talking 
 scandal of their neighbours, and watching the earthen pot in which they are boiling 
 their gruel in the sight of all wdio pass by. 
 
 This' beaterio of La Eecoleta is the last isolated point in the environs of Cuzco. 
 Beyond it the farms, the chacharas, and the orchards increase in number, and occur 
 closer together, until their surrounding walls unite to form a narrow and winding street 
 
 
 MONOLITHIC CHAMBER IN THE ROCKS NEAR CUZCO. 
 
 called the Faubourg of Recoleta. The bed of a torrent, nearly always dry, and strewn 
 with stones, runs through this sordid quarter, in which are some twenty beer-shops to 
 satisfy the craving of the Hispano-Peruvian people for drink. 
 
 Here and there, where we had to ascend and redescend heaps of alluvial debris, 
 the edifices of Cuzco came into view. Pleased with the anticipation of the substantial 
 repast which awaited me, and the good old Spanish bed, painted white, sprinkled with 
 red tulips, in which I should stretch myself after leaving the table, I mused — what other 
 resource has the traveller on the back of a mule except to muse? — on the poetical 
 exaggeration in which official travellers indulge when approaching Cuzco. Some of the 
 highflown apostrophes of these gentlemen were naturally recalled to mind by the sight 
 of the places which had inspired them, — 
 
 "Hail, classic land of the Incas, cradle of an ever-expanding civilization!" is the 
 exclamation of one. 
 
 "Behold, then, this capital of a powerful empire, conquered by Pizarro, whose 
 advanced civilization and incredible wealth have struck the world with admiration!" 
 exclaims another. 
 
100 
 
 PERU. 
 
 I know not if tins enthusiasm of the traveller, which I merely remark upon as a 
 physiological characteristic, was shared in by our mules, but as we approached the holy 
 city they got quite excited, and dashed forward with almost supernatural vigour. Like 
 Mercury, they seemed to be furnished with wings on every limb. No difficulty of the 
 road embarrassed them. Holes, wheel-ruts, blocks of stone, up-hill or down-hill, were 
 all the same to them. To see how they got over the ground, their ears bent, their 
 nostrils expanded, their legs stretched to the utmost, one could hardly have believed 
 they had come a hundred miles across the Andes. Going at this rate we soon reached 
 the Cueva-honda (deep grotto), the continuation of a stony ravine by which the springs 
 of the Sapi roll their waters into the plain. From this relatively high point the 
 
 BEGUINAGE OF LA KECOLETA, NEAR CUZCO. 
 
 edifices and roofs of Cuzco came into full view. Alas for enthusiasm ! A heavy and 
 compact mass of stones and tiles; little or no details; confused contours; local colour, 
 reddish; light, dull and diffused; positively this is all that the old city of Manco-Capac, 
 revised, corrected, and augmented, but little embellished, by Francisco Pizarro, presents 
 to the eye of the artist. 
 
 In the measure that we leave Cueva-honda behind us, the panorama of the city 
 becomes, if not more bright and cheerful, at least more clearly defined. Domes and 
 steeples detach themselves from the mass of house-tops, while white-washed walls 
 contrast here and there with the dirty-red ground of the cerros and ancient buildings. 
 Soon we come to a point where the so-called Faubourg of Eecoleta is intersected, on 
 the right by the escarpment of San Bias, one of the eight faubourgs of Cuzco, 1 and on 
 the left by a narrow passage bounded by walls of cyclopean structure. This passage 
 
 1 According to the statisticians of the country, we ought to say ten, because they consider the villages of San 
 Sebastian and San Jerouirao suburbs of Cuzco, although they are separated from the city by a plain of about seven miles 
 square. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 101 
 
 is the Calle del Triunfo. Tlie mules, more excited still on scenting the fodder and the 
 stable that awaited them, lower their heads and gallop still faster. In three minutes, 
 without the least preparation for the sudden change, the traveller finds himself landed 
 in the great square of Cuzco in front of the cathedral. 
 
 LA RECOLETA, A SUBCRB OF CUZCO. 
 
 As we were emerging from the gloom which always overshadows this street of 
 "Triumph," whose walls seem to absorb the light, Nor Medina, who had preceded me 
 a moment, pulled up his mule to ask at what tampu of the city I meant to lodge. 
 
 "I will lodge alone," I replied. 
 
 '•Where alone, if monsieur pleases?" 
 
 "Galerie du Vieux-Linge, 17." 
 
 We crossed the great square diagonally, and dismounted at the house I had 
 indicated. Nor Medina fastened the mules to one of the columns of trachytic sand- 
 
192 
 
 PERU. 
 
 stone which border the three sides of the plaza called respectively the galeries du Pain, 
 des Confitures, and du Vieux-Linge. After having unsaddled my mule and brought me 
 the equipment, 1 he waited, hat in hand, to be paid. As I added to the price agreed 
 upon a few reals for llapa (drink-money), this generosity, which he had not expected, 
 dispersed the cloud from his brow and touched his heart. 
 
 CALLE DEL TRIUNFO— A STREET IN CUZCO. 
 
 "If I might venture to speak to monsieur!" he said, after having counted the 
 money and put it into a ratskin-purse which he carried suspended from his neck like a 
 relic. 
 
 "At your pleasure, Nor Medina.'' 
 
 "Well, monsieur, I would have you reflect again before doing what you have told 
 me; it is not only an imprudence but a sin. The Chunchos are miscreants and 
 heretics, and the holy religion of Jesus Christ forbids us to have any intercourse with 
 them." 
 
 1 In a journey on the coast, or in the Sierra, where it is the regular custom to use hired mules, the harness is 
 always supplied by the traveller and never by the muleteer who lets out the beast. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 193 
 
 "Is that all you have to say to me?" 
 
 "That is all, monsieur." 
 
 "Well, good day, mon ami, and God see you safe home again. My compliments to 
 your wife when you get back to Arequipa." 
 
 The arriero retired, shrugging his shoulders; and I have nothing more to say of him. 
 
 After a hearty meal, I took possession of my bed, and slept till the next day. 
 There is a saying that night brings counsel. On awaking in the morning I was able 
 to judge of the value of this proverb. Before going to sleep I had debated with 
 myself what valley I should select for the beginning of my enterprise, but had come 
 to no decision. On awaking, though I could not explain to myself the secret working 
 of my mind, I found, in fact, that my choice was made, and that it had fallen upon 
 the valley of Occobamba, which geographers have neglected to mark in their maps, 
 but which nature has placed between the two valleys of Lares and Santa Ana. 
 
 During the forty-eight hours that I stayed at Cuzco, I spent the day in purchasing 
 various articles intended to conciliate the savages I might find en route. In the 
 evening, in place of accepting the invitation to a eacharpari, or farewell-festival, I shut 
 myself up alone, leaving my acquaintances astonished and even a little indignant at 
 my disregard of local customs. But it was my duty to give the reader some account 
 of the unknown city to which I have brought him en croupe, and from whence we shall 
 very soon depart together. Instead, then, of passing these two nights in drinking 
 brandy with the men and fooling with the women, as each would have had me to do, and 
 as etiquette would have required, I employed them in penning the following notes. If 
 the reader can find nothing in them to praise, he ought at least to know how willingly 
 I sacrificed, for his sake, the pleasures of all kinds which a eacharpari at Cuzco 
 promised. 
 
 The city of Cuzco was founded in the middle of the eleventh century by Manco- 
 Capac, the founder of the dynasty of the Incas. The advent of this legislator in the 
 punas of Collao is enshrined in a mysterious legend, which the Spanish historiographers 
 have amused themselves by reproducing in a variety of ways! We will dismiss from 
 our notice what is marvellous in their recitals, and confine ourselves as nearly as 
 possible to the unadorned truth. Instead of making Manco-Capac and his companion 
 Mama Ocllo emerge like marine gods from the Lake of Titicaca, or of taking them 
 like owls from a hole in the cerros of Paucartampu, we shall see in them merely the 
 last remnant of those travelling colonists who, descending in ancient times from the 
 Asiatic plateaux, their primitive cradle, spread themselves over every part of the 
 ancient world. 
 
 If it is next to impossible in the present state of our knowledge to fix the precise 
 date of the first displacement of that migratory civilization, and the length of time 
 which it halted in various places before reaching the American continent, we have 
 at least as a witness of its origin, its point of departure, and the route which it must 
 have followed, the type of its indigenous representatives. Their manners, their laws, 
 their religious institutions, their system of chronology, their cosmogonies, and their 
 architecture, are all extant. 
 
 vol. l. 85 
 
11)4 PERU. 
 
 It is probable that the first communications between Asia and America took 
 place by Behring's Straits, these now distinct portions of the globe being then united 
 by an isthmus. The deep indentations of the Asiatic continent, the gulfs and inland 
 seas of its eastern part, the groups of islands which have been sepai^ated violently 
 from the continental mass, or elevated by the active force of volcanoes situated along 
 the faults or crevasses with which the globe is furrowed, all presuppose a vast primi- 
 tive area, of which the orographic configuration and the climatological constitution 
 have undergone sensible modifications. The north -north -west part of Asia, without 
 high mountains, battered on. two sides by the Polar Sea and the great ocean, must 
 have yielded to their double influence, unless, being fractured at the time of the 
 general or partial elevation of the secondary chains of the eastern and western 
 continents, it had been covered by the flowing down of the higher waters into a 
 basin of lower level. Be this as it may, there can be no doubt there was originally 
 a means of communication between Eastern Asia and the north of America, for it 
 is from that side, and not by way of Iceland, Greenland, and the southern parts of 
 the United States, as some have suggested, that one can hope to come upon traces 
 of the first civilized settlements and the introduction of new ideas. 
 
 The anthropological study of the American population, all whose varieties may 
 be traced to two fixed and primordial types — the indigenous type, which we will 
 without scruple call the Mongolo- American, and the Irano-Aryan type — naturally 
 raises the following question : Is the American race autochthonous, or must we regard 
 it as a race of emigrants from the Asiatic stock? Without prejudging this qiiestion, 
 which we merely state incidentally, leaving to others the trouble of solving the problem, 
 we would, at the same time, remark, that if the American race is really autochthonous, 
 as held by Morton, Pritchard, Robertson, and Blumenbach, its singular analogy with 
 the Mongol race is inexplicable; whereas, if its presence on the new continent results 
 from a displacement of the Asiatic hordes, its perfect resemblance to them, with which 
 one has reason to be astonished, is naturally accounted for. 
 
 Of the two aforesaid types, the indigenous or Mongolo-American, however we 
 please to name it, is that which predominates in the two Americas, and characterizes 
 the greater part of their population. Nevertheless one can only recognize in it the 
 colonizing or swarming element. The civilizing element is represented by the Irano- 
 Aryan race, the type of which still endures, if not in its original purity, yet so distinctly 
 marked that it cannot be mistaken. This type is that of the first nations who 
 established themselves in New Spain, from whence they passed into Canada, Louisiana, 
 the Floridas, and Yucatan, and penetrated into the southern hemisphere by the plains 
 of Popayan and Guiana. The sculptures of the Tlascaltecs, the Chichimecs and the 
 Toltecs, and the hieroglyphic paintings of the Aztec manuscripts, have faithfully 
 transmitted to us this type, which we still find among some of the nomad tribes of 
 North America ; and in South America among the Aymaras, the Quichuas, and a great 
 number of Antis and Chontaquiros, savage tribes which live upon the left bank 
 of the Quillabamba-Santa-Ana, east of the Andes. 
 
 Although at first sight it may seem surprising to discover, in the heart of America, 
 

 iji ■whnhhwb 
 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 197 
 
 the types, the institutions, and the monuments of the ancient peoples of Asia, this will 
 no longer appear extraordinary if we examine the various territories occupied by these 
 peoples on the flanks of the great mountain chains commanding the surrounding 
 countries, north, south, cast, and west, and so allied to one another as to form a 
 compact and homogeneous whole; those of Zend to the ancient free states of India — 
 the country of peoples without kings; these again to Brahmavarta and to Axyavarta— 
 countries of Druhinn and the Aryan nobles; these latter, touching on Madhya-Desa, from 
 the centre of which territory and beyond it there spread the primitive non-Aryan 
 population; — all these were ahle to communicate, by the provinces of Persia, with 
 Chaldea and Egypt, by the provinces of Thibet with Transgangetic India (Burmah, 
 Siam, &C.), and with the northern countries of Asia. It would be impossible to 
 conceive of a geographical position more naturally adapted to facilitate the outflow of a 
 teeming population. These plateaux of Iran, of Zend, and of Arya may be compared, 
 as anthropological reservoirs, to lakes in alpine regions, the water of which may 
 remain for a long time immovable, until a sudden flood causes it to overflow its bed, 
 when it drains away through a thousand channels. 
 
 There is historical testimony to confirm the establishment of the Hindoos, at a very 
 remote period, in countries situated to the east of their territory. We discover them 
 traversing with the north-east monsoon 1 the Gulf of Oman, and establishing themselves 
 in the southern part of Arabia and the island of Socotora, for the purpose of trading in 
 gold with the Egyptians. We find no mention, on the contrary, of establishments 
 founded by them in the countries of Northern Asia. It is true that nothing on this side 
 attracted their attention or excited their commercial instincts. Ever since the migration, 
 at an unknown period, contemporary perhaps with the earliest ages of the world, 
 which conducted the Misraites (Children of the Sun) from the heart of Asia into the 
 valley of the Nile, Egypt had remained in possession of the traditions and ideas of the 
 race; she was the centre of intellectual culture, and the commercial entrepot of the 
 known world; her preponderance over the neighbouring countries was solidly estab- 
 lished, and the eyes of all nations were attracted to her by the light she radiated. 
 It is not then by any of the needs of civilization, or commerce, or even of territorial 
 aggrandizement, that one can reasonably account for the displacement of the Aryan 
 populations towards the northern parts of Asia Neither had any religious schism, or 
 any systematic persecution, of which history makes mention, 2 moved them to abandon 
 their primitive home. In the absence of all historic certainty which might throw some 
 light upon the causes of that displacement, one may nevertheless reasonably imagine that 
 the pressure exercised upon these populations by the first conquests of the Pharaohs of 
 Thebes, 3 earlier by nine centuries than those of Rameses the Great — conquests 
 limited at first to the shores of the Indus, but which finally extended beyond those of 
 
 1 .In the Malayan tongue, mu.ssim; that of the north-east is called the niussiui of Malabar, that of the south-west the 
 mussim of Aden. Arabian navigators called it the maussim, and the Greeks hippalos. 
 
 ■ The establishment of Buddhism in India can hardly have taken place more than six centuries before our era. As 
 to the persecutions which it suffered from the Brahmins — persecutions which determined the priests of Buddha and their 
 followers to emigrate towards the north of Asia— historians assign for their date the early years of the Christian era. 
 
 3 About 2200 years b.c. 
 
198 PERU. 
 
 the Ganges, and which were subsequently completed by the Greek invasion which 
 brought the civilization of the Hellenes and that of the Hindoos face to face — we may 
 reasonably suppose, I say, that these grave events which changed the face of the world, 
 Mould exercise a powerful influence on the spirit of the Aryan populations, and 
 determine with them those migrations which astonish us, and which we cannot other- 
 wise explain. 
 
 In abandoning their birth-place in the Asiatic plateaux, these populations carried 
 with them the idea of a primitive worship, their cosmogonies, their cycles of regeneration, 
 their manners, their arts, their industry, and their language. But the new regions which 
 they traversed; the halts, ages in duration, which they made in divers places; their 
 immediate contact with other peoples, and the mixture of races which must have ensued ; 
 in fine, the influences of climates, and the places where they dwelt, upon their consti- 
 tution, — all these demoralizing causes, if they did not efface among them the pure ideal 
 of the past, must have sensibly altered its form. BoiTowing from those among whom 
 they sojourned some formula' of language and of new ideas, they also left behind them 
 something of their own. Hence the analogies and differences which we are constantly 
 discovering in the language and the manners of the peoples descended from them. 
 
 If the worship of Mizraim (the Sun) and that of fire were known from the 
 beginning to the American nations, the same may be said of the system of cosmogony, 
 divided into four great epochs, which represented the human race destroyed by some 
 cataclysm and peopling the earth anew. This system, originally established in Egypt, 
 India, and China, had probably been transmitted by the Asiatic peoples to the Olmecs, 
 the Xicalanqui, the Zacatecs, the Tarascos, the Quitlatecs, and the Otomis, the first 
 civilized nations which established themselves in New Spain. From them the same 
 idea was diffused more lately among the Nahuas, the Cicimecs or Chichimecs, the 
 Acolhuas, the Tlascaltecs, the Toltecs, and the Aztecs, the last group of the Indo- 
 Mexican nations. These four chronological divisions, of which Gomara de los Bios, 
 Fernando de Alva, Gama, and Clavigero have spoken in turn, and which they designate 
 as the age of giants, the age of five, the age of air, and the age of water, embrace, 
 according to these authors, a period of 18,028 years, 1 that is to say, 23,972 years 2 less 
 than the prehistoric period of Egypt according to her priests, and 0020 more than the 
 Fersian ages of the Zend-aresta {Boun-Dehesch). 
 
 This astrological fiction, translated into a system of cosmogony and imported into 
 North America by the Asiatic immigrants, spread also into South America, among the 
 
 1 In Hesiod's Theogony, also, 18,028 years are assigned to the four ages of the world, which arc related to four great 
 revolutions of the elements. 
 
 2 The Egyptian priests assigned to the prehistoric existence of their nation myriads of years, during which they 
 were supposed to be governed by gods and demi-gods or heroes. The period of the gods was fixed by some at 42,U)n 
 years, of which 12,000 were assigned to the reign of Vulcan (Phtah) and 30,000 to the Sun. To this first epoch succeeded 
 the rule of the demi-gods, from which the Greeks derived their twelve chief gods. According to Herodotus the hiero- 
 phantes of Thebes and Memphis calculated that Egypt had then existed 11,314 years. It is clearly impossible to establish 
 ;i system on data so contradictory and so evidently fabulous. 
 
 If, however, the early ages of Egypt present us with chronological problems which are almost insoluble, this is not 
 the case with its historic period, which Manetho's "Dynasties" have been able to fix at 3893 years before the Christian era. 
 This period comprises 113 generations, and 331 reigns from the time of Menes. 
 
A.COPIA TO CUZCO. 199 
 
 nations whose establishment there was long anterior to that of the Incas. Only, in 
 place of being applied by them to four climacteric epochs of humanity, it served to 
 designate four families of individuals. Thus the civilization of Tiahuanacu and of the 
 Collahuina, Aymara, and Quichua populations, asserted to lie contemporary with the 
 deluge, had for its founder an unknown man who divided the world (Peru) into four 
 parts, and charged four individuals with their government, The first of these 
 personages was named Manco, the second Co/la, the third Tocay, the fourth Pinahuay. 
 A mythical legend of similar import existed among the Poque nation, who lived to the 
 east of Cuzco, and among the nations of the north, the Mayus, the Cancus, and the 
 Rimactampus. According to them, four men and four women, in the beginning of the 
 world, came out of a cavern situated in the district of Paucartampu. The first of these 
 men was Manco-Capac, the second Ayar-Cachi, the third Ayar-Uchu, the fourth 
 Ayar-Sauca. From the agreement of the first name in the two legends, local traditions, 
 and the historiographers of the Conquest, have transmitted to us the name of the first 
 Inca; but as they have made no mention of the three others, we may fairly infer that 
 all four names apply to four historical epochs, or serve to designate four dynasties, of 
 which one only, that of the Incas, counted, according to Juan Astopilco and Torquemada, 
 some threescore sovereigns anterior to the dynasty we know. 1 
 
 Some of the learned have tried to refer the foundation of the empire of the Incas to 
 the last displacement of the Toltecs, who had abandoned Mexico to pass into South 
 America. Unhappily for the system of these savants, historians have traced the 
 itinerary of the Toltecs since the year 544 of our era — some say 596 — according to 
 which, coming from Tlapallan into the country of Anahuac, they inhabited suc- 
 cessively, during a period of 124 years according to the one, or 145 years according 
 to the other, the countries of Tollantzinco and Tulan. A dreadful pestilence, in which 
 we recognize the small-pox, which has caused, and still causes, great destruction among 
 the populations on both sides of the Ancles, finally drove the Toltecs from the country 
 of Anahuac. It is from this period (1051) that their migrations tend towards the south, 
 but after this epoch, also, they disappear mysteriously from history. Whether it was 
 that they perished, obscurely, of sickness, poverty, and hunger- in the regions of 
 Yucatan and Guatemala, where they had sought an asylum; or whether, surprised in 
 their march by the Aztecs, who, coming from Aztlan, opened themselves a road south- 
 ward by way of Tlalixco, Tulan, Tzampanco, and Chapoltepec, they were completely 
 lost in the superiority of the more powerful nation. But at the period of these dis- 
 placements (1051) the empire of the Incas was already constituted. 
 
 A fact not less conclusive than the preceding, is the use of the hieroglyphic 
 alphabet, which was common not only to the Toltecs and Aztecs, but to all the 
 peoples who preceded them in New Spain, while it was always unknown to the 
 Incas. Certainly the Toltecs, in migrating south, had not failed to introduce their 
 
 1 It is this dynasty which, according to Garcilaso, Pedro de Cieca, Bias Valera, Zarate, and others, comprises thirteen 
 sovereigns from Manco to Huascar inclusive, whose reigns, from a.d. 1042 to 1532, embrace a period of 490 }'ears. 
 
 2 The material difficulties of existence could not have been less in the case of these wandering peoples than they 
 are now for most of the savage races of America, that is, the object of a constant ] ire-occupation, and the end of a 
 thousand expedients. 
 
200 PERU. 
 
 method of picture-writing (escritura pintado., as Gomara says), which their forefathers 
 derived from the oriental peoples. 
 
 The use of hieroglyphics among the Mexican nations appears to have been posterior 
 to their establishment in New Spain. Before the introduction of symbolic characters 
 these nations used the quipus, or skein of variously coloured wools, which we find 
 again among the Canadian tribes, and the use of which in China ascends to very 
 remote times. After the introduction among them of symbolic characters, the Mexican 
 nations continued to use the quipus as a means of traditional numeration. More 
 recently, after the extinction of these peoples, we find again in the southern continent, 
 among the Puruays of Lican and the Incas of Cuzco, the same quipus, but not the 
 hieroglyphic characters. Is it not then reasonable to believe that the Mexican nations 
 having parted company at a very early period, either in consequence of the rivalry 
 of caste or from religious differences, or, what is more probable, from the insufficiency of 
 resources in a territory that was too thickly populated; 1 and one of the divided parts, 
 continuing to dwell in New Spain, remained, if not in contact, at least in com- 
 munication, with Asiatic civilization, and was able to feel foreign influences; whilst 
 the other, passing into South America, and wandering farther and farther from their 
 ancestral homes, retained nothing of the past but fundamental ideas and rudimentary 
 forms, or if at a later period some impression of new ideas which had regenerated 
 the ancient world recurred to them, it was only as a vague and confused perception, 
 like the echo of a noise but faintly heard in the distance. 
 
 The more one studies the type, the manners, and monuments of the Mexican 
 races, the more we are struck by their intimate connection with those of the Indo- 
 Egyptian nations. The portrait which tradition has left us of the chiefs who led 
 them in their migrations, or of the legislators who gave them laws, recalls at once 
 the rot-enne-rome type of the Egyptian race and the namou type of the Irano- Aryan 
 race, according to the division into four parts of the world represented in the ancient 
 Egyptian system. The Spanish historiographers of the Conquest, following their genius 
 for amplification, have seen in these personages with yellow or brown skin and a long- 
 beard, bearded men with a white skin. The first legislator of the Aztecs, Quezalcoalt, 
 whom some have made grand-priest of Cholula, and others the god of the air, was 
 one of these bearded whites. In South America, Bochica, the founder of the civilization 
 of Cundinamarca, was likewise a white man with a long beard. The ancient Mexican 
 sculptures of Tenochtitlan and Culhuacan, as well as those of Tiahnanacu in Higher 
 Peru, represent bearded personages clothed in flowing garments whose appearance 
 agrees with that of the oriental peoples. The carboniferous sandstone or the por- 
 phyroid trachyte in which they are sculptured does not permit us to decide whether 
 their skin is a brownish-red like that of the Egyptians, a yellow-brown like that of 
 the Asiatics, or a white like that of the Tarnou, the European or Indo-Germanic race 
 of which the Spanish historiographers have made choice probably from regard for 
 
 1 The break-up of the great Mirahna nation, which occurred little more than half a century ago, had no other cause 
 than the failure of the game and fish in the territory, some niuety miles square, which they had occupied during the 
 previous century in the basin of the Amazon, between the Japura and the Rio Negro. 
 
ACOP1A TO CUZCO. 201 
 
 themselves, but whom the ancient Egyptian system places below the Nahari, or negroes, 
 
 whom it treats as the last, and least appreciable, of the series. 
 
 After the historiographers come the commentators, who have seen in these white 
 and bearded men ancient Erse or Irish who came by sea to North America. Their 
 long and flowing robes, represented in Mexican sculpture, have been transformed 
 into the albs and surplices of priests or missionaries, 1 come to instruct the peoples 
 of Virginia and Carolina in the faith. There can be no doubt that white men had 
 visited at an early period the southern part of America, comprised between Virginia 
 and Florida, since in the twelfth century we see the Normans already established in 
 their settlements between Boston and New York. The Danish archaeologist Carl 
 Ram. in his Antiquitates Americanos (1837), speaks of explorations attempted in North 
 America since the tenth century of our era by the colonists of Iceland and Greenland. 
 But whatever be the value of these various statements, and the date (1005) assigned 
 to the discovery of North America by Leif Ericson, a discovery which some have 
 endeavoured to make coincident with the appearance of the first Inca (1040-1042), 
 there is nothing in the worship, the manners, the institutions, and the monuments 
 of the Mexico-Peruvian nations which would suggest the idea of a civilizing influence 
 exercised by the nations of the north of Europe, who were still plunged in the 
 darkness of barbarism at a period when American civilization, which already counted 
 many centuries of existence, still diffused its light. 
 
 It would be irrational, then, to seek elsewhere than in Asiatic regions for the source 
 of the great civilizing currents by which America was first fertilized; but at the same 
 time it would be quite as unwise to assume that these currents have flowed over the 
 new continent at one epoch only, and in ecpial volume. Everything conspires to prove, 
 on the contrary, that American civilization has been arrested at various times by long 
 periods of torpor and numbness, when, thrown back upon itself, it has remained 
 stationary, until a new impulse was given to it by the mother country, whose most 
 active representatives were then the Phoenician, Etruscan, and Arabian navigators. 
 Had it been otherwise we should have found among all the descendants of the first 
 Asiatic colonists the exact formulae of one and the same faith, the same manners, and 
 the same architecture. But the fact is, that if, among the nations of New Spain and 
 those of the southern continent, we find the idea of worship fundamentally the same- 
 appearing among some of them under an abstract figure, among others in the concrete 
 form — if also the general traits in the category of morals are common to the tun 
 groups of nations, proving their community of origin and their common point of 
 departure — there exists at the same time such decided differences as to separate the 
 one from the other hierarchically, and to establish the supremacy of the former over 
 the latter. That supremacy has no other cause than the division which took place 
 at a very early period, and which, as we have before observed, left the predominant 
 race in communication with the ideas which continued to flow in from the south of 
 
 1 These Irish colonists, on their return from Virginia and Carolina, established themselves in the south-east 
 part of Iceland, at Fapyli, and in the little island Papar, where, after they had left, the Xormans found bells, croziers, 
 books, and other things used in worship. Hence they were supposed to have been called Papar, papa; (fathers), 
 clergy, in the work of Dicuil, a monk who wrote in the ninth century, De ifensura Orbis Terra;. 
 
 VOL I. 26 
 
202 PERU. 
 
 Asia; whilst the subject races, by their farther and farther removal from the point of 
 influx, ceased to feel the influence, or felt it but feebly. 
 
 We see, in fact, after the separation of the two groups of peoples on the plateaux 
 of higher Mexico, the first constituting themselves the guardians and depositaries of 
 the past tradition, the religious myths, and the cosmogonical ideas of India and 
 Egypt. Their physique, their colour, their hair soft and tressed, their garments white 
 or variegated with brilliant colours — all about them recalls the uamou and rot-enne-rome 
 races, and the double branch (Semitic and Japhetic) from which they sprang. The 
 pontiff chiefs who governed these peoples and ruled their worship, the king-legislators 
 who gave them their laws, are men with long beards and flowing garments, who seem 
 to continue in America the theocratic and warrior castes of the Orient. Ages have 
 passed away since the departure of these peoples from the regions which gave them 
 birth. Established on a new continent, they continue to receive from that old Asia 
 —their alma mater — the germs of a progressive civilization. Hieroglyphic writing- 
 is naturalized amongst them. The use of the papyrus (mar/tie//) is introduced. Their 
 architecture, which had been confined to copying from memory the massive primitive 
 structures of India and Upper Egypt, develops a new phase. While continuing, in 
 their temples, palaces, and monuments, the hieratic and unchangeable forms of the 
 ancient edifices, that architecture, inspired anew by art, covers their walls with an 
 elegant and complicated ornamentation, in which we recognize the delicate fancies of 
 the Greek style of the Macedonian epoch. The monuments of Teotihuacan in the 
 state of Mexico, those of Culhuacan, of Guatusco, and of Papantla in the state of 
 Chiapa, the temple of Chichen-Itza in Yucatan, have descended to us as magnificent 
 specimens of American art at different epochs. 
 
 Under the dynasty of the Aztec emperors American civilization attained its apogee. 
 Ceremonies of worship, spectacular splendours, sumptuary laws, all seem to have 
 renewed that insensate luxury of the Persian satrapies to which Hernando Cortez 
 went to put an end, as Alexander the Great, nineteen centuries before him, had done 
 in regard to the provinces of Media, Babylonia, and Persia, 
 
 If from the first group of peoples Ave pass to the second, we shall see them after 
 their separation from the primitive swarm, and their introduction to the southern 
 continent, traversing the wooded regions of Venezuela and Guiana, leaving upon the 
 rocks of Orinoco and of Cassiquiare, on the shores of the Rio Cauca, one might say, 
 a sculptured attestation of their passage. Among these travelling hordes there were 
 some who halted for several centuries on the plateaux of Bogota; others found their 
 rest under the equator, and founded in the country of Lican the dynasty of the 
 Conchocandos; others again continued their course as far as to the Lake of Chucuytu, 
 and covered the neighbourhood of Tiahuanacu with temples and monuments. Let us 
 remark, incidentally, that in the measure that these peoples wandered away from the 
 seat of intellectual culture in New Spain, the pure ideal of the past wore out, and 
 became more and more obscured among them. Left to their own resources, having no 
 communication with the rest of the world, deprived by their distance of all civilizing 
 influences, they gradually fell into a state of relative decadence, so that while in the 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 203 
 
 northern hemisphere the architectural art took from age to age a new flight, it dwindled 
 in the southern hemisphere until it returned to the feebleness of infancy. 
 
 To speak here only of the teocalli, that symbolic edifice which is allied at once to 
 the pyramids of Ghizeh, the temple of Bel, and the pagoda of Chalembron, having the 
 threefold utility of a tomb, an observatory, and an altar given to it by the first nations 
 of Upper Mexico. This teocalli is already, in Canada and Florida, only a tumulus, 
 more or less elevated, which covers the remains of the chief warriors of the tribe. 
 Among the nations south of the equator it is transformed into a mound of earth, 
 
 PUCARA OR FORTRESS OF THE PERIOD OF THE [NCAS. 
 
 rounded at the summit, an involuntary return towards the past, to which, however, 
 we can assign no rational purpose. Such is the artificial hill of Tiahnanacu. 
 
 After a lapse of time, of which we cannot give an exact idea, the teocalli reappears 
 under the dynasty of the Incas. During the greater part of this period it is an isolated 
 mamelon, of a conical or rounded figure, but the work of nature, and no longer of 
 man, except in so far as he perfects it by forming two or three retreating stages, or 
 steps, with broken stones piled one upon the other. The teocalli, thus disposed, 
 supports a pucara (fortress); sometimes its layers of stone, plastered with mud instead 
 of cement, are transformed into sustaining walls, intended to prevent the slipping down 
 of the sands, in which case it bears the name of a chimpu or andaneria. 
 
 What we have said of the teocallis of the southern continent is applicable to the 
 architecture of its monuments, in which we may observe the same phases of decadence. 
 Thus the edifices of Tiahnanacu in Upper Peru (which belong to an epoch contem- 
 porary, as we think, with the civilization of the Muyscas of Cundinamarca, but anterior 
 to that of the Puruays of Lican), so far as one can judge from the ruins of their walls, 
 were massive structures with no pretensions to elegance, and no ornamentation save a 
 few moulded figures {sculptures en creujc), representing the Misraites kneeling before 
 
204 
 
 PERU. 
 
 their god, and a scries of grotesque heads of coarser execution placed below them. As 
 in the earliest efforts of Etruscan art, these works are of very primitive character, 
 and border on caricature. Of two stone giants, formerly seated at the foot of the hill, 
 and of which Pedro de Cieea and Garcilaso have made mention, there remains nothing 
 but the two heads almost defaced. As to the population of statues which surrounded 
 them, and which perpetuated, according to the testimony of the same authors, the 
 punishment inflicted by Pachacamac, the lord of the universe, on the natives of the 
 locality, the earth has swallowed it up, and only a few images without arms or legs are 
 disinterred at long intervals. 1 
 
 The blocks employed in the construction of the edifices of Tiahuanacu generally 
 exceed in size those of the Peruvian edifices attributed to the Incas, and in the style of 
 their sculpture, as well as their great mass, constitute a distinct architectural epoch. 
 
 ANDANERIAS OE SUSTAINING WALLS. 
 
 It is often asked, after reading the almost always hyperbolical descriptions of the 
 historiographers of the Conquest, and the amplified narrations of modern travellers, how 
 the nations of that part of the continent had been able, without tools or power-engines 
 of any kind, to accomplish such labours. Let us say at once, that the edifices of 
 South America, when one examines them at leisure and in detail, instead of seeing 
 them casually and in their ensemble, as most travellers have done, have absolutely 
 nothing to astonish the mind and confound reason, as some have taken the pains to 
 write. What monument of these countries can ever be cited as a parallel to those of 
 India, Persia, and Egypt % where shall we find, if we search from the isthmus of 
 Panama to the twentieth degree of south latitude, an ancient edifice which can be 
 compared with the temples of Elora, of Kailaca, of Persepolis, of Karnac, or of 
 Ipsamboul; and this not merely from an artistic or decorative point of view, but simply 
 
 1 "In the neighbourhood of the edifices of Tiahuanacu," says Garcilaso, "are found immense numbers of statues of 
 men and women holding vessels in their hands and drinking from the same. Some are seated, others standing; the 
 latter have a leg raised, and their garments tucked np as if crossiug a stream ; the former are carrying their children in 
 their swaddling-clothes, straitened out or lying down, and, in fact, in every variety of posture. The natives told the Inca 
 (Mayta Capac) that these natives had been changed into statues as a punishment for their past crimes, and above all for 
 having stoned a stranger who visited the country." 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 205 
 
 as a work of labour and masonry? Let any one look up, in the pages of Herodotus, 
 Diodorus, and Strabo, the number of men 1 and the years occupied in building the 
 great monumental editiees of Egypt, or the structures of Van and Babylon, and they 
 will no longer be astonished that the nations of South America, much more numerous 
 some ages ago than they are now, were able, favoured also by the immediate neigh- 
 bourhood of the Andean chain and its ramifications, to accomplish the works attributed 
 to them, the most considerable of which was the fortress of Sacsahuaman, commenced 
 
 FRAGMENTS OF A \ MARA SC I' LPT I'll E. 
 
 about the middle of the fifteenth century by the twelfth Inca, Tupac Yupanqui, and 
 finished by his son Huayna-Capac. 
 
 The manner in which these indigenes extracted the blocks from the quarry has 
 also puzzled the ethnographers and savants who have deprived them of the necessary 
 tools. Notwithstanding the fact that no implement belonging to that age has been 
 discovered — perhaps because the indigenes on the arrival of the conquerors secreted 
 those which they possessed, fearing they should be compelled to use them for the 
 benefit of their new masters, as they also disposed of a greater part of their wealth 
 to prevent its falling into the hands of the Spaniards — it is certain they were acquainted 
 with iron, Avhich they called cquellay, lead, which in its native state they called titi, and 
 
 1 According to Herodotus, a hundred thousand men, who were relieved every three mouths, were employed in 
 quarrying and conveying the stone for the Great Pyramid {Euterpe, exxiv.) — Tr. 
 
206 
 
 PERU. 
 
 caca after it was melted; copper, winch they called anti; and an alloy of two or more 
 metals, to which they gave the name of champpi. 1 
 
 As to their method of quarrying stone, it was that of the ancient Egyptians, as 
 described by Herodotus. Like them the American workmen first traced upon the 
 stone the shape of the block they required, then cut the outlines with a chisel, 2 and 
 drove into these grooves wedges of dry wood, which they afterwards wetted, and which, 
 by their swelling, split the stone. In the neighbourhood of Cuzco, in the districts of 
 Quiquijana and Ollantay-Tampu, we still find in the quarries these wedges made of the 
 
 FIGURE OF A NAIAD. SPHINX CO RR EQUEN Q UE. 
 
 SCULPTURES OF THE PERIOD OF THE INCAS, FOUND BT THE AUTHOR IN THE BACK-YARD OF A HOUSE IN THE CALLE DEL TRlC'NFO. 
 
 wood of the huarango (Mimosa luted) fixed in the joints of the stones, and become by 
 lapse of time as soft and spongy as German tinder. As to the transport of these blocks, 
 they were carried, according to their size, on the backs of the men, or with the help 
 of their arms. Garcilaso, whose relationship with the Incas entitles him to be regarded 
 sometimes as the best informed of the historiographers of the Conquest, as he is also 
 the coolest liar 3 among them all, whom we have read and re-read, and annotated in 
 
 1 Tin and glass were also known to these indigenes, they call the first yuractiti (white lead), and the second cquespy. 
 There is the less reason for doubt in this respect, because the Peruvians never gave the Quichua names to things brought 
 among them by their Spanish conquerors, but contented themselves with the names which the latter gave them. Hence 
 the large number of Castilian vocables which have corrupted the original purity of the Quichua idiom. 
 
 2 The two sculptures found by me in the back-court of a house in the street of Triumph — one that of a sphinx 
 Correquenquc (vulture-gryphon), the other that of a naiad crowned with rushes, which served as a fountain, as proved 
 by the leaden pipes placed in her mouth and her breasts and the greenish tint which the water has given to the stone- 
 however coarse they may seem, must have been fashioned with a chisel and a mallet in some way, because we cannot 
 reasonably admit that they were cut with bluws of a /lint, a process, says Garcilaso, employed by the workmen in the 
 time of the Incas, who cut and polished with blows of hard flints called luhuanas the stones destined for their edifices, 
 and, he adds, gnawed and crumbled rather titan cut them. 
 
 3 The gasconnades, at once simple and audacious, scattered at random through the works of Garcilaso and his 
 competitor, Pedro de Cieea, would fill a considerable volume. We cite the following hap-hazard by way of specimens : — 
 
 Speaking of the mattecllu (Tlydroeolyle multi/lora), which from the time of Garcilaso the Indians have eaten as a 
 
ACOPIA TO UUZCO. 207 
 
 the very localities which inspired him, and whom for that reason we cite with ex- 
 treme reserve, makes mention, in his Comentarios Reales, of blocks weighing "20,000 
 metrical quintals (1000 tons), which the Indians were compelled to leave on the road. 
 These masses, which he designates by the name of piedras cansadas (fatigue-stones), 
 may be actually seen in certain localities of the Sierra. Let us hasten to add for the 
 edification of the public, abused by ingenuous and credulous travellers who, on the faith 
 of Gareilaso, have measured with their astonished eyes these fatigue-stones, that they 
 are nearly all what geologists call drift-blocks; but are occasionally composed of the 
 granite rock itself cropping out in the form of polyhedral masses, some of them cubic 
 or rectangular, and inclined to the north-west. 
 
 After the historiographers and commentators come the archaeologists, who have taken 
 the trouble to class the American monuments by epochs according to the nature of 
 the material employed in their construction. According to these gentlemen the stone 
 edifices are the most ancient; those of brick come next in point of time, and con- 
 structions of earth and stone are the most modern. This scheme, however, is inad- 
 missible, because we find on both continents and among the same nations the three 
 kinds of material used simultaneously in constructions of the same epoch. Thus the 
 edifices of Teotihuacan in the state of Mexico, attributed to the Olmecs, one of the 
 most ancient nations established in New Spain, present in two teocallis, dedicated 
 to Tonatluh and Meztli, the sun and moon, the use of clay, of small stones, and of 
 blocks of porphyritic sandstone serving to plate the exterior The pyramid of Cholula 
 in the state of Puebla, constructed by the Toltecs, is composed of layers of clay, 
 earthen bricks dried in the sun (jcam'dli), and of blocks of stone. By the side of these 
 structures we find other monuments both of a more remote and a more recent date 
 built exclusively of stone. Such are those of Mitla, attributed to the Tzapotecs, and 
 those of Culhuacan or Palenque. The exclusive use of stone, or of sun-dried bricks 
 alternately with it, characterizes equally the constructions of Canada, Florida, and 
 Yucatan. 
 
 The same observation applies to South America, for example to the remains found 
 in Cundinamarca, the seat of the civilization of the Muyscas, whose antiquity appears to 
 be greater than that of the Aztecs, if we admit the period of 2000 years which these 
 
 salad, and of which they made poultices for sore eyes, which they no longer do in our day, our historiographer recites 
 the marvellous cure which he operated with the above-named herb. A translation of his words would only weaken 
 them: — " To sc la puse a un muchacho que tenia tin ojo para saltarle del casco: estava inflamado como un pimiento, sin 
 divisarse lo bianco ni prieto del ojo, sino hecho vna came y lo tenia ya medio caido sobre el carillo, y la primera noche que 
 le puse la yerva, se restituyo el ojo a su lugar, y la segunda quedo del todo sano y bueno. Despues aca he visto el moeo en 
 Espana, y me ha dicho que ve mas de aquel ojo que tuvo enfermo que del otro." The reflection which terminates this recital 
 is a true touch of comeily. 
 
 Again: "The first pomegranates that appeared in America in the seventeenth century were carried in triumph in 
 the procession of the Host. They were as big as half a hogshead ; but the times are changed. In our day, and notwith- 
 standing the indisputable though slow progress of cultivation and the application of huano, which was not used in the 
 seventeenth century among the first Spanish colonists, the finest pomegranates grown in the western valleys of the Pacific 
 do not exceed in dimensions the size of a large orange." 
 
 As to Pedro de Cieca, lie tells us he has seen [seen with his own eyes, or what he calls seen) among the peoples of the 
 Sierra, but what people he forgets to name, on the stalls of the pork -butchers, cutlets, beefsteaks, and fillets of human 
 flesh, regularly cut up and set out for sale, as well as pates, puddings, and force-meat balls {morcillas y longanisas), 
 made of the flesh, the blood, and the bowels of men. 
 
208 PERU. 
 
 peoples place between the advent of Bochica their legislator and the first dynasty 
 of the Huaneas, his successors. The materials employed in these constructions were 
 successive layers of stone and clay mixed with chopped straw or small stones. Under 
 the equator among the Puruays of Lican, whose subjugation was completed by the 
 Incas about the end of the fifteenth century, the remains of their edifices are also 
 found to be constructed of stone alternating with sun-dried bricks (tica, tapla, and 
 adobe). Tiahuanacu, whose civilization appears to date from the same epoch as the 
 establishment of the Muyscas in the neighbourhood of Bogota, presents, together with 
 the remains of edifices constructed of porphyritic and carboniferous sandstone, some 
 
 BUINS OF A FORTRESS OF SUN-DRIED BRICKS (TAPIAS) IN THE DISTRICT OF OLL AN T A Y-T A M re. 
 
 debris of earthen Avails. Such are the ruins of tw T o edifices situated about three miles 
 east-south-east from the actual village in the middle of a desert plain. 
 
 After these monuments of divers countries and ages, come the constructions built 
 by the Incas, and those the last of the series, since they do not mount higher than 
 to the middle of the eleventh century. All these constructions are of stone; sun- 
 dried bricks are employed only in four or five fortresses at different points in the 
 Sierra, edifices of no architectural importance which the Incas erected on the boundary 
 of the newly conquered territories, and the best preserved specimen of which exists 
 upon the left bank of the Quillabamba, in the district of Ollantay-Tampu. 
 
 If, as these facts justify us in concluding, the nature of the materials and their 
 supposed exclusive use in the monuments of the two Americas fail to furnish arguments 
 of any value whatever in respect to the antiquity of these nations, they throw a clear 
 light, on the other hand, upon their common origin, and at the same time bear testi- 
 mony as to the countries from which they borrowed their architectural ideas, their 
 various methods of construction, and even the use of the materials which they employed. 
 We have seen that they derived from the ancient Egyptians their method of extracting 
 blocks from the quarry, of working them on the spot, and of transporting them by 
 manual labour. Their method of fixing the stones, without lime or cement, by continual 
 rubbing and the addition of a little water to make them adhere more perfectly, is 
 evidently borrowed from the orientals, 1 as likewise is their idea of monolithic construc- 
 
 1 See Strabo — Chardiu — Niebubr. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 209 
 
 tions. The use of dried bricks alternately with stones of all sizes is common to them 
 and the Persians, the Medes, the Assyrians, the Chaldeans, and the Babylonians. 
 The simultaneous use of these materials is observable in the ruins of Persepolis, 
 Ecbatana, Nineveh, Borsippa, and Babylon. Even China is not excluded from the 
 list of oriental nations which have furnished these ancient Americans with the idea 
 of some one of their constructions. The revetment of certain teocallis, the disposition 
 of the pucaras or fortresses, the chimpus and andanerias serving at once as sustaining 
 walls and lines of demarkation or defence, often more than a thousand yards long, 
 resemble the walls built by the peoples of the Mongol race which are every day being 
 discovered in the eastern part of Asia. 
 
 After this rapid coup-d'ceil of the presumable origin and the intellectual develop- 
 ment of the American nations, we pass on to consider that last fraction of them, the 
 dynasty of the Incas, which carried into Peru the worship and the traditions, then 
 almost effaced, of the old Orient. 
 
 Local tradition, when the clouds which obscure it are dispersed, represent Manco- 
 Capac and his sister Mama Ocllo as having come from the hot valleys situated beyond 
 the Cordillera, to the east of the Lake of Titicaca. These valleys, lying between Apolo- 
 bamba and the sources of the Rio Beni, now belong to Bolivia, and are commonly 
 designated by the name of the Yungas of La Paz. 
 
 Carrying a rod of gold, the emblem of power, 1 the new Horus, pastor of the peoples 
 to come, crossed the punas of Collao, followed by his companion, and after a march 
 of 240 miles in a north-westerly direction, arrived on the heights of Huanacote" 
 (now Huanacauri), where he discovered a vast circular quebrada surrounded by moun- 
 tains, which he fixed upon for his residence. The city that he subsequently built 
 in the centre of this quebrada bore the name of Ccozgco (now Cuzco), which signifies 
 the point of attachment, or navel. 
 
 In a short time the people of the environs rallied to his voice, and drawn by his 
 eloquence and the charming life he pictured, which recalled perhaps the primitive state 
 from which they had declined, accepted his laws, and exchanged the precarious life 
 of the chase for that of agriculture. While Manco instructed the men to cultivate 
 the ground and dig canals for irrigation, Mama Ocllo taught the women to spin the 
 wool of the vicunas and alpacas, and weave the stuffs necessary for the clothing 
 of the family, and initiated them into their duties as wives and mothers. The city 
 was planned in the form of a parallelogram of no great extent; its greatest length 
 was from north-east to south-west, and it had no wall. A stream descending from the 
 Cordillera bounded the south side of the city, and at a later period divided it in two, 
 when under the successive reigns of thirteen emperors the boundaries of the primitive 
 acropolis had extended northward to Huancaro and southward to Sapi. 
 
 The inequality of the ground caused the city to be divided into two parts (fau- 
 bourgs), the upper town called Hurin, now San Cristoval, the lower Hanan, now 
 the quarter of the cathedral. After the erection of the Inca's palace in the upper 
 
 i 
 
 1 Some modern writers have spoken, but erroneously, of a wedge of gold. The Spanish texts agreeing as regards 
 — una vara de dos pies de largo y un dedo de grueso — can have no equivocal meaning. 
 
 vol. I. 27 
 
210 PERU. 
 
 town and of the houses for the people, the first edifices built in the lower town were 
 the temple of the Sun and the Accllhuaci, or palace of the Virgins consecrated to its 
 worship. These two edifices, commenced by Manco, were not finished till fifty years 
 after the foundation of the city, by his eldest son, Sinchiroca. For half a century the 
 temple of the Sun was nothing but an inclosed space {chimjm). Its walls were con- 
 structed of unwrought stones, and in the centre of the area was a square pillar roughly 
 chipped into shape, like the hirmensul or Druidical stone of the Sun; at once the 
 letter and the symbol, the altar and the image, of the divinity. 
 
 After some years devoted to the organization of the rising city, Manco began 
 a crusade among the surrounding populations east, west, north, and south. His 
 enterprise, undertaken in the name of the Sun, whose eldest son and envoy he styled 
 himself, had both a religious and a political object, that of spreading among the 
 infidels the worship of Helios-Churi, and of augmenting at the same time the number 
 of his subjects and his possessions. This apostolic mission, which continued many 
 years, resulted in the subjugation of some score of peoples spread over an area extending 
 to thirty miles round the capital, and to the annexation of their territory to the empire. 
 Under Manco the limits of the empire were at Quicpiijana on the south, Ollantay- 
 Tampu on the north, Paucartampu on the east, and Limatampu on the west. 
 
 After a reign of some fifty years Manco died, leaving his power in the hands of 
 his eldest son, Sinchiroca. Already the empire was organized, the religion of the Sun 
 was founded, its powers established, its exterior worship assured, and the policy of 
 the rulers distinctly marked out. Manco had foreseen everything; his successors 
 had only to continue his work. 
 
 On mounting the throne Sinchiroca took for his wife, according to the custom 
 of the primitive races, his eldest sister Mama Cora. 1 He finished the temple of the 
 Sun and the palace of the Virgins, and, following the example of his father, undertook 
 a series of pacific conquests, which aggrandized by twenty-one square miles the empire 
 of the Incas. The exterior sign of power adopted by Manco was a roll or fillet of 
 variously coloured wool, which was twisted five times round the head, its two ends 
 falling iq:>on the shoulder. Sinchiroca substituted for this ornament a fillet of nine 
 variously coloured threads, like the former, but girdling the forehead like a crown. 
 Like his father he had his ears lengthened some nine or ten inches, and a wooden 
 ring about ten inches in circumference suspended to the lobe. This fashion, which all 
 the Incas adhered to, 2 proves clearly that the founder of their dynasty had long resided 
 in eastern regions, among the long-eared nations from whom are probably sprung the 
 Botocudns of Brazil, as well as the Orejones, the Ccotos, and the Anguteros of Peru. 
 
 1 These unions in the families of the Incas had for their object the preservation of the purity of race. To increase 
 their prestige in the eyes of their subjects, and give to their origin a divine source, they pretended that in the marriage 
 of brother and sister, they followed the example of their father Churi (the Sun), who married his sister Quilla (the 
 Moon). 
 
 2 The sculptors of Huamanga and the painters of Cuzco of the eighteenth century, as well as the artists who 
 succeeded them, have not taken care, from their regard for the form and worship of bonito (the beautiful), to give to 
 the statuettes and portraits of the Incas these extravagant ears, the attribute of their race. While pointing out this 
 designed omission on their part, we have ourselves hastened to repair it, from respect for local colour, and without 
 disquieting ourselves about the artistic effect. 
 
AGO PI A TO cuzco. ^n 
 
 After a peaceful reign of forty years, Sinchiroca died, or as his faithful followers 
 say, went to rest from the fatigues of existence in the domains of his well-beloved 
 father, the Sun. 
 
 Loqui Yupanqui, the eldest son of Sinchiroca, succeeded to his power, and 
 continued to extend the bounds of the empire. But it was no longer by that persuasive 
 eloquence which Manco had recommended to his successors when confronting savage 
 tribes that the new Inca recruited his subjects. The force of arms was tried, and 
 during his reign the provinces of Collao were annexed to the empire, and fortresses 
 of rammed clay built on the borders of the conquered territory. It is to Loqui 
 Yupanqui that historians have attributed the erection of astronomical observatories in 
 the higher and lower towns of Cuzco. These observatories were seen by the Spaniards, 
 and were in existence about thirty years after the Conquest. If the idea of their 
 erection is to be referred to a remote epoch, it is necessary to observe that they were 
 no more like the Mexican teocallis than the pyramidal edifices of Chaldea and Egypt. 
 They were simply quadrangular pillars of unequal height, arranged in two groups 
 of eight pillars, four of which were large and four small. They were united together 
 by chains of gold. One of these monolithic groups was situated in the east of the 
 city, the other in the west. The position of the sun in relation to the pillars indicated 
 to astronomers the epoch of the solstices and equinoxes. Some of the palaces had 
 dwarf pillars of this kind placed in the middle of their courts to serve as gnomons. 
 The March equinox was celebrated by grand processions round the bean and corn fields. 
 That of September gave occasion to great rejoicings. The revolution of the earth 
 round the sun, and of the moon round the earth, were known to these peoples. The 
 first they called Huata, meaning the year, and the duration of a month (each month 
 having its oavii particular name) they called Qit'dla, from the moon. 
 
 Eclipses terrified them. On seeing the face of the moon grow dark, they 
 imagined she was sick, and would fall down and annihilate them. To avert this 
 catastrophe, they made a frightful uproar, beating drums, clashing cymbals, blowing 
 trumpets, and thrashing their dogs to make them howl. As the moon has a par- 
 ticular affection for dogs, and dogs, on their part, love the moon — in whose face 
 they look with tenderness, and break out into a romantic howling on quiet moonlit 
 nights — the moon, seeing her friends abused, and hearing their cries, experienced a 
 lively emotion, which was supposed to hasten her cure. The days on which eclipses 
 of the moon happened were regarded as "bad days," and called punc/iau. The 
 morning which preceded them was called pacari, and the night which followed tula. 
 
 The lunar spots, which they were also acquainted with, as they were with the 
 revolution of Venus, the Milky Way, and the Southern Cross, 1 were attributed to 
 an enchantment as old as the age of gold, when beasts had the gift of language. 
 A fox, the legend went, seeing the moon so white, so round, so fascinating, and 
 taking it for a cheese, sprang towards it with the idea of snapping it up, but the 
 star of night, disagreeably impressed by the odour of the beast, seized Mm in her 
 
 1 Venus, ou account of her radiancy, was called Coyllur Chascca, the star with the bristling hair (the French Che- 
 shire means streaming light as well as hair). The Milky Way they called Catachillay, and the Southern Cross Crinita. 
 
212 PERU. 
 
 arms, and was about to throw him into space, when a magic charm united the one to 
 the other for ever. For other particulars of this astronomical system see Garcilaso, 
 Pedro de Cieca, and Acosta. 
 
 It was during the reign of Loqui Yupanqui that poesy, literature, music, philo- 
 sophy, and the sciences represented by medicine as well as astronomy, as we shall 
 immediately see, made their first timid essays. Poesy limited itself to the composi- 
 tion of little poems of ten or a dozen strophes in eight-syllable lines of blank-verse, 
 the compositions of the yaravicus (poets). These Avorks, called yaravis, 1 from the name 
 of their composers, were at first songs of victory, odes, and dithyrambs in celebration 
 of the triumphs of the Inca, his personal qualities, and his power. In course of time 
 they assumed other forms, and told of love, of nature, and of flowers. 2 The usual 
 figures in this kind of poesy are borrowed from the most beautiful objects of creation. 
 The star, the flower, the turtle-dove, and the butterfly play the first part in them, one 
 might say the only part. If the style of these compositions is almost always florid, the 
 form is poor, the idea puerile, the sentiment cold and artificial. Like its elder sister, 
 the poetry of the Zend races, that of the yaravicus of Peru is characterized by a 
 drowsy monotony, reminding one, though distantly, of the eternal loves of the Persian 
 rose and bulbul. The only difference to note between the Indo-Persian poets and 
 their compeers of the American continent is the graceful freshness which characterizes 
 the works of the former and the profound melancholy which marks those of the latter. 
 In the poesy of the western Aryans, notwithstanding the constant return of the same 
 images and their fatiguing monotony, one may fancy he hears, in the pure atmosphere 
 of the morning, the lark singing to the light. In the poesy of the yaravicus we seem 
 to hear the plaintive note of the goat-sucker (Caprimuh/us amcricanus) on the approach 
 of twilight, The rapture of love is never exjiressed in the works of the yaravicus. If 
 passion enters into them, it is like a subdued flame or ardour without hope. 
 
 These little poems were recited by the yaravicus themselves, who were at 
 once composers and rhapsodists. As in the old Greek and Latin times, flute or 
 flageolet players gave the note to the declaimers, and sustained the modulation. 
 These instruments were made of reeds, and were of various sizes. Some, with 
 three holes, were called the pincidlus, others, with five or sis holes, the qqueynas. 
 The peoples of Collao used a Pandean pipe or mouth-organ. The pincullu was 
 played in the ordinary manner, but the player of the qqueyna placed the mouth 
 of his instrument in an empty jar, kneeling before which he played into it to 
 augment the sound. This kind of melody is still heard in the Sierra, and some- 
 times several performers indulge in it at the same time. We may imagine the 
 discord of all these instruments playing hap-hazard, but the racket cannot very 
 well be described. 
 
 1 Literally, sad songs; yaravicu, the author or composer of sad songs. The yaravis of the present day are 
 simple romances, the music of which is always written in the minor key, and in a very slow movement. They are 
 sung to the accompaniment of the guitar. We will give a specimen further on. 
 
 2 The most modern of these yaravis, and at the same time the most celebrated, is entitled the Pica-flor de 
 Hiiascar-Inca (Inca Huascar's Humming-bird). It is said to have been composed some years before the Spanish 
 conquest. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 213 
 
 The peoples of Collao, historiographers inform us, were the cleverest flutists in 
 the world. By means of the flute and mouth-organ they conversed with each other 
 from a distance, giving to certain notes a distinct value, and asking or replying to 
 questions about their health, their flocks, the weather, the probability of a good or 
 bad harvest, &c. Time and experience enabled them to formulate more complex 
 ideas: love-passages, business matters, and even small talk, arrangements to meet 
 or to travel, were all ti'anslatable into a tune on the flute or pipe. This musical 
 language was so generally understood, that a lover playing on his flute at the door 
 of his mistress would indiscreetly reveal to passers-by all that we in Europe take so 
 much trouble to conceal. 
 
 In times of war the soft notes of the pincullu, the qqueyna, and the Pandean 
 pipe were strengthened by the clash of golden cymbals and the patter of little 
 
 PHYSIC-BOTTLE MADE OF PORPHTEOID TKACHTTE. 
 
 drums, on which they struck with one hand only, as on a box. At a later period, 
 when the Incas had extended their conquests as far as the shores of the Pacific 
 Ocean, horns of Ammon (pututus) added their cavernous moanings to the strength of 
 the before-mentioned orchestra. 
 
 If poesy was the resource of the yaravicus, literature had for its representatives 
 the amautas, who were at once astronomers, dramatists, and philosophers. Their 
 works consisted of tragedies, comedies, and something resembling morality plays. 
 Farce, so much used and abused in more enlightened countries during the last four 
 centuries, was interdicted. The ordinary subject of the tragedies was borrowed 
 from the wars and the triumphs of the Inca. Comedy dealt with agricultural 
 operations and domestic affairs; and the morality plays consisted of a series of 
 sentences, aphorisms, and maxims, which two actors addressed to each other 
 before the assembled court. In the tragical and comical performances the reigning 
 Inca habitually played the first r6le; the secondary parts were taken by his rela- 
 tions or the principal dignitaries. The coya (empress) and the pallets, or women 
 of the court, took no part in these divertissements, and were present only in the 
 character of spectators. It is the same at the present day among all the savage 
 tribes of the Cordillera, where the men do the drinking, howling, and dancing, 
 while the women, squatted on the ground, look at them Avithout saying a word. 
 
 Medicine was limited to the knowledge and application of a few simples. The 
 custom of bleeding by means of a needle made of hard stone, which served as- a 
 lancet, and the use of violent drastics, were familiar to them. One of these purga- 
 
214 
 
 PERU. 
 
 tives was a white root very similar to a wild turnip. After having eaten it, they 
 exposed the stomach to the sun, praying to their god to hasten the effect of the 
 remedy. At the end of a moment they fell into frightful convulsions, straightened 
 themselves out at full length, ran, jumped, fell again on the ground, and rolled 
 about, howling and foaming like epileptics. Gai'cilaso has related, with a naivete 
 which is characteristic of him, the details of the diabolical treatment to which he 
 was subjected by his relations, who, as descendants of the Incas, had religiously 
 preserved the formulae and the prescriptions of the olden time. 
 
 To this rapid coup-d'oeil of literature and poesy, art and science, in the times of 
 the first Incas of Peru, we believe it our duty to add some specimens of the voca- 
 bulary of the same period. The Quichua words in our list, extended by others 
 collected from different idioms which Ave shall meet with in the course of our 
 journey, will form a table of philological specimens, the analogy and comparison of 
 which will not be uninteresting to some of our readers. If there are any whom 
 such an essay in comparative philology is likely to embarrass, or send to sleep, we 
 beg them to accept in advance our very humble apologies. 
 
 QUICHUA VOCABULARY, 
 
 God Pachacarnac. 
 
 devil supay. 
 
 sun chiui. 
 
 moon quilla. 
 
 star ccoyllur. 
 
 day ppunchao. 
 
 night tuta. 
 
 air huaruy. 
 
 cloud puhuyu para. 
 
 rain paray. 
 
 thunder illapa. 
 
 lightning illu illu. 
 
 rainbow ckuychi. 
 
 earthquake pacha cuyuy. 
 
 water unu. 
 
 fire ... nina. 
 
 cold chiri. 
 
 hot rupay. 
 
 man runa. 
 
 pud. hominis ullu. 
 
 woman huarmi. 
 
 pud. mulieris raca. 
 
 child huahua. 
 
 father tayta. 
 
 mother mama. 
 
 sister nana. 
 
 brother huancane. 
 
 great atun. 
 
 old machu. 
 
 young huayna. 
 
 life causay. 
 
 death huanuy. 
 
 head uina. 
 
 hair chuccha. 
 
 eyebrow cayehi. 
 
 eye naliui. 
 
 nose cencca. 
 
 mouth simi. 
 
 tongue ccallu. 
 
 tooth quiru. 
 
 ear riucri. 
 
 neck cuuca. 
 
 breast ccasco. 
 
 shoulder huasa. 
 
 arm ricra. 
 
 hand maqui. 
 
 finger ruccana. 
 
 belly uieza. 
 
 navel pupu. 
 
 leg pincuyo. 
 
 knee cuncuri. 
 
 foot chaqui. 
 
 bone tulln. 
 
 honey misqui. 
 
 wax mapa. 
 
 bee-hive huasi huancuyru. 
 
 potato papa. 
 
 sweet potato camote, apichu. 
 
 pine-apple achupalla. 
 
 serpent machaco. 
 
 tiger puma. 
 
 guinea-pig huangana. 
 
 ape. ........ kcusillo. 
 
 dog . . c » o o . . alccu. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 215 
 
 bird . . . 
 
 
 
 
 . . pichqui. 
 
 vulture . . 
 
 
 
 
 . huaman, cuntur. 
 
 cock . . . 
 
 
 
 
 . . ullue-hunllpa. 
 
 lien . . . 
 
 
 
 
 . huallpa. 
 
 pcrtr 
 g oo ■ 
 
 wild turkey . 
 
 
 
 
 . runtu. 
 . hocco. 
 
 dock . . . 
 
 
 
 
 . Sunuma, huallata. 
 
 parroquet . . 
 turtle-dove . 
 
 
 
 
 . uritu. 
 . urpi. 
 
 humming-bird 
 
 bat. . . . 
 meat . . . 
 
 
 
 
 . quintisullu. 
 . macu. 
 . aycha. 
 
 grease . . 
 tortoise (laud) . 
 
 
 
 
 . huero. 
 . motelu. 
 
 lame .... 
 
 
 
 
 . kumu. 
 
 silly .... 
 thief .... 
 
 
 
 
 . poque. 
 . sua. 
 
 earth .... 
 mountain . . 
 
 
 
 
 . ualpa. 
 . urcu. 
 
 sea 
 
 
 
 
 . atun cocha. 
 
 river .... 
 
 
 
 
 . mavu. 
 
 lake .... 
 
 
 
 
 . cocha. 
 
 tree .... 
 forest .... 
 
 
 
 
 . ccaspi. 
 . satcha. 
 
 leaf . . . 
 
 
 
 
 . inquill. 
 
 flower . . . 
 
 
 
 
 . sisac. 
 
 grass . . . 
 wood . . . 
 
 
 
 
 . quihua. 
 
 . llamta. 
 
 house . . . 
 
 
 
 
 . huasi. 
 
 bank . . . 
 
 
 
 
 . ccauitu. 
 
 plantation . 
 
 
 
 
 . chacra. 
 
 spade .... 
 
 
 
 
 . lampa. 
 
 canoe . . . 
 
 
 
 
 . canoa. 
 
 raft . . . 
 
 
 
 
 . huampu. 
 
 thread . . 
 
 
 
 
 . ccavtu. 
 
 needle . . . 
 thorn . . . 
 
 
 
 
 J iseay. 
 
 fish-hook . . 
 
 
 
 
 . hacchuna. 
 
 bow .... 
 
 
 
 
 . huacchiy. 
 
 arrow . . . 
 
 
 
 
 . huacchi. 
 
 club . . . 
 lance .... 
 
 
 
 
 . champpi. 
 . rejon. 
 
 shooting-tube 
 
 
 
 
 . pucuhana. 
 
 poison (for weapoi 
 a man's clothing 
 
 is) 
 
 
 . hampi. 
 . uucu. 
 
 a man's hat . . 
 
 
 
 
 . chulio. 
 
 a woman's mantle . . . llicclla. 
 
 tissue or woven stuff . . ahuan. 
 
 ear-rings ririnchana. 
 
 necklace huallcca. 
 
 bracelet niaquihuatana. 
 
 comb fiaccha. 
 
 crown llautu, pillu, mucucu. 
 
 purse chuspa. 
 
 flute qqueyna, piucullu. 
 
 drum hnancar. 
 
 horn quepa. 
 
 trumpet pututu. 
 
 pot nianca. 
 
 jar or pitcher puyiiu. 
 
 cotton utcu. 
 
 tobacco sayri. 
 
 aruotto achiote. 
 
 genipa huitoch. 
 
 manioc (cassava) .... yuca. 
 
 maize sara. 
 
 beer made of maize . . . acca. 
 
 tortoise (fresh-water) . . charapa. 
 
 toad ampatu. 
 
 frog cayra. 
 
 fish challuau. 
 
 bee huancuyru. 
 
 fly chuspi. 
 
 mosquito huanhna. 
 
 locust tian-tian. 
 
 ant cici. 
 
 white yura. 
 
 black yana. 
 
 red puca. 
 
 yellow keellu. 
 
 blue ancas. 
 
 green komer. 
 
 one hue. 
 
 two iseay. 
 
 three quiinsa. 
 
 four tahua. 
 
 five picheca. 
 
 six zocta. 
 
 seven cchanchis. 
 
 eight puzac. 
 
 nine isccon. 
 
 ten chunca. 
 
 As far as twenty the Quichnas of that time, like their descendants of the present 
 day, placed their ten before unity; for example: — 
 
 cltunca-huc eleven. 
 
 chnnca-isca twelve. 
 
 chunca-quimsa thirteen, &c. 
 
 On reaching twenty, or more correctly twice ten — isca-chunca — they put unity 
 before the ten. 
 
 isea-chunca-huc .... twenty-one. 
 isca-cltunca-isea .... twenty-two. 
 isca-chunca-quimsa . . . twenty-three, &e. 
 
216 PERU. 
 
 So also for thirty, or three times ten — quimsa-chunca; forty — tahua-chunca; fifty — 
 pichcca-chunca; sixty — zocta-chunca; seventy — cchanchis-chunca ; eighty — puzac-chunca; 
 nin ety — isccon-ch unca ; 
 
 a hundred pachac. 
 
 a thousand huaranca. 
 
 ten thousand chunca-huaranca. 
 
 a hundred thousand . . . pachac-huaranca. 
 
 a million ckunca-pachac-huaranca. 
 
 On reaching ten times a hundred thousand, or a million — hunii — they left off count- 
 ing, and called anything beyond panta china, the innumerable sum. 1 
 
 Mayta Capac succeeded his father Loqui Yupanqui. The reign of this fourth Inca, 
 whom historians place at the commencement of the thirteenth century, is celebrated for 
 the discovery of the ruins of Tiahuanacu, the invention of suspension -bridges, and 
 the great aggrandizement of the empire. The apologists of the Spanish conquests 
 have tracked the march of Mayta Capac across the provinces of Puno, La Paz, and 
 Oruro, as far as the Lake of Paria in the south, and in the west his exploration of 
 the provinces of Cailloma, Chumbihuilcas, Velilla, Union, Aymaraes, Paucartampu, 
 and Arequipa. That itinerary, which appears so strange when followed out on a 
 map of Peru, is explained by the topographical ignorance of the conqueror in regard 
 to the countries which he overran, or rather across which he marched hap-hazard. I 
 have already given some details concerning the Aymaras, the primitive inhabitants 
 of the neighbourhood of Collao, which old authors call Culhahna, and related how 
 they were treated by Mayta Capac. 
 
 Capac Yupanqui, the fifth Inca, succeeded his father Mayta Capac. At the head 
 of 20,000 men he took the road to Arequipa, subdued the Yanahuaras, completed the 
 subjugation of the Aymaras of Cuntisuyu (the region of the west), and invaded that 
 part of the coast country comprised between the 17th and 19th degrees of latitude, 
 then occupied by the Chanquis (Changos). After some years of repose he made an 
 expedition southward, and passing beyond the province of Paria, already subdued by 
 his father, he pushed on as far as Challante in Upper Peru, which formed the limit 
 of his conquests. 
 
 His son Koca was contented with the subjugation of the peoples established to 
 the north of Cuzco, between that city and the province of Amancaes, where grew 
 in abundance those beautiful yellow lilies {Narcissus Amancaes) which have since been 
 called the Lily of the Incas. There are no more lilies in that province, which has 
 also changed its name from Amancaes to Abancay. The Inca Roca has the credit 
 of having founded the first schools where the amautas publicly taught astronomy, 
 philosophy, and literature, and the yaravicus poesy and music, or rather the musical 
 conceits, of which we have spoken above. 
 
 1 We are indebted to the Spanish Jesuit Antonio Eicardo for a grammar and a vocabulary combined of the Quichua 
 idiom. A copy of this work in 18mo, and printed on coarse paper, but gilt-edged for the occasion, was presented to 
 Louis XV. by the academician La Condamiue, on his return from Quito. 
 
 Some years subsequently the Jesuits Diego de Torres Eubio and Juan Figueredo also published a combined grammar 
 and vocabulary of Quichua (Lima, 1754). These works have become extremely rare in the country where they were 
 written and published. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 217 
 
 To the Inca Rocca, succeeded his eldest son Yahuar-Huaccac. His iirst conquests 
 southward resulted in the enslavement of the Carangas in Upper Peru, of the Llipis 
 in the great desert of Atacama, of the Chicas, grouped between the 22d and 23d 
 degrees of latitude, of the Amparaes established on one of the affluents of the Pilcomayo, 
 and of the Chancas, riverside inhabitants of Mapocho or Paucartampu. Eastward, this 
 Inca pushed his expeditions beyond Mapocho, crossed the snowy chain of Huilcanota 
 (Vilcanota), and penetrated into the Trans-Andean valleys of Havisca, Tono, and 
 Chaupimayo, which he annexed to the empire. During his absence a revolt, excited 
 by his son Viracocha (Huira-Cocha), broke out at Cuzco. Deposed by his subjects, 
 who had elected Viracocha in his place, Yahuar-Huaccac put himself at the head 
 of the recently conquered Chancas, re-entered the capital of the empire, and gave it 
 up to pillage. Afterwards being repulsed from Cuzco and defeated in a battle with 
 his son Viracocha, at a place called Yahuar-Pampa (the Plain of Blood), he was com- 
 pelled to abdicate and retire into private life. It was in the reign of Yahuar-Huaccac 
 that huano was first employed as manure by the populations of the Sierra. 1 
 
 The reign of Viracocha is celebrated for the extension which this Inca gave to 
 agriculture, the aqueducts which he caused to be constructed, and the irrigation 
 canals which he had dug. He also erected many temples to the Sun, among others 
 one at some distance from the volcano of Racchi, in remembrance of a dream that he 
 had in his youth. 2 Historians have credited him with the reduction of eleven provinces, 
 but as none of them are designated by name, and as the conquests of his successor 
 commence at the point to which Yahuar-Huaccac had extended the empire before him, 
 we must conclude that the Spanish authors have mistakenly seen in the i?ispection 
 which this Inca made of eleven provinces the conquest of them. The error is all the 
 more probable, as the Incas were in the habit, at certain periods, of visiting the 
 provinces of their empire, either to improve the administration of the curacas or 
 governors of those provinces, or to assure themselves that their orders tending to the 
 same end had been faithfully executed. 
 
 Pachacutec succeeded to Viracocha. After the deposition of the father by the 
 son, we see the grandson violating the law which Manco had imposed on his descend- 
 ants, in order to preserve in its native purity the blood of the Children of the Sun. 
 Instead of marrying a sister, he united himself to a noble woman of illegitimate birth, 
 a simple Palla of the name of Mama Anahuarqui. 3 The conquests of this sovereign, 
 directed towards the north-west, comprised the provinces of Huaylas, Pilcopampa, 
 and Conchuco, extending beyond Cajamarca. He is said to have built many temples 
 to the Sun in the provinces subjugated by his predecessors. 
 
 1 From the time of the Incas these deposits of huano, still untouched, formed upon the islets and rocks of the 
 shores of the Pacific a range of conical eminences which were visible at a great distance owing to their whiteness. 
 Every year this huano was distributed to the indigenes in certain quantities according to the extent of the lands they 
 cultivated. Sentinels were posted for its protection, and the penalty for being found on the islets or rocks, at the period 
 when the birds {haaneros) laid aud hatched their eggs, was death. 
 
 2 We have already looked up the site of Yahuar-Pampa, mentioned the events which it recalls, and given an en- 
 graved view of the ruins of the temple of Viracocha. 
 
 3 The ruins of his palace still exist on the hill of Apuchauca, beyond the village of Cchoco, about three-quarters of 
 a mile from the baths of Huancaro, aud three miles north-west of Cuzco. 
 
218 PERU. 
 
 Down to the time of Viracocha, the diadem of the Incas had been a fillet of nine 
 woollen threads, which Sinchirocha, the son of Manco, had substituted for the simple 
 cordon (limit u) worn by his father. To that band which surrounded the chulio or 
 bonnet of brown wool, the form of which reminds us of the Phrygian cap, some Incas 
 had added a golden plate surmounted with golden myrtle-leaves, or an aigrette made 
 of the tail of a bird (Ardea alba). After the time of Loqui Yupanqui, golden ear- 
 rings, as big round as a saucer, had been adapted to this head-dress. As for the kingly 
 sceptre, it had varied in form under each reign. Pachacutec, on the promulgation 
 of his new sumptuary laws, adopted for his crown a golden mitre with fillets or falling 
 bands of the same metal, which recall the pschent of the Egyptian sphinxes. This 
 mitre had for its aigrette two wing-feathers, half white and half black, of the corre- 
 quenque ( Vultur gryphus). A woollen fringe of a dull red colour, of two fingers' breadth, 
 and falling over the forehead just above the eyes, was added to this coiffure, 1 which was 
 completed by the golden ear-rings spoken of above. 
 
 The primitive garments of the Incas consisted of a short shirt made in one piece, 
 called the uncu* and a mantle called the llacoUa. Pachacutec added to these, golden 
 knee-coverings, and sandals of the same metal, engraved with the image of the Sun. 
 A shield carried for display, and a sceptre of gold and silver, in allusion to the sun 
 and moon, and which was called champpi (signifying an alloy of the two metals), com- 
 pleted the new costume, which the successors of Pachacutec varied and embellished yet 
 further. To the exclusive use up to that time of woollen stuffs, this Inca added that of 
 cotton stuffs, the material for which was supplied by the subject nations beyond the 
 Cordillera in the nature of tribute. These nations had to furnish besides, perfumes, 
 fragrant woods for making the frames of litters, and feathers used for the achihuas, 
 many-coloured parasols which the deformed dwarfs who filled at court the office of 
 buffoons, held over the emperor's head. The woven designs assumed in time a mar- 
 vellous delicacy, and in place of the three or four colours uniformly repeated hitherto in 
 the woollen stuffs, presented some variety of shades. Threads of gold and silver were 
 woven in to brighten up the colours, always a little dull. 3 
 
 It was in the reign of Pachacutec that the ceramic art reached its perfection. Those 
 vessels, of a material so fine, so pure in their outlines, or so decided in their originality, 
 which we still admire, date from this epoch, and served as models to the jjotters of 
 succeeding reigns. Some specimens in gold and silver filigree represent expanded flowers, 
 butterflies with their wings spread, birds with their tails displayed and fashioned 
 like perfume-burners, statuettes of gold and silver, and electrum (champi souffle), in a 
 style which recalls Etrurian and Egyptian art, — men and women coiffed with the 
 
 1 This diadem, called vxaicca paycha, was somewhat similar to that of the Aztec emperors, called majctlatl. 
 
 2 This is the ichcahuepilli of the ancient Mexicans; it is not unlike the short shirt of the modern Arabs and the 
 antique garment of the Egyptians. 
 
 3 We have seen in a private collection one of these yacollas (Uacollas), the long mantle worn by the Incas, and 
 which reminds us of the pa'lium of the Romans. This specimen was of white cotton, very thick, crossed by stripes 
 of three fingers' breadth about six inches apart, which were combined in the most fantastical manner. Some took the 
 form of the Greek border, some were meandering, some interlaced, some like a draught-board, some like heraldic billets, 
 some formed crosses, some stars, and combined with all were hieroglyphic characters and figures of men and women, 
 quadrupeds aud birds. Painted in dull colours, it resembled at a short distance a tissue of cashmere. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 221 
 
 pschent, and fashioned like termini; 1 — all these objects, discovered in the tombs after 
 the Spanish conquest, or preserved as curiosities in old families who have inherited 
 them as heirlooms, date from the reign of Pachacutec, and witness to the solicitude of 
 that Inca for the plastic arts. 
 
 Tradition ascribes to Pachacutec a scries of philosophical maxims, which one might 
 believe had been taken from the Proverbs of Solomon; we will cite a few of them for 
 the edification of our readers. 
 
 THE INDIAN OP ALARCON — AN EARTHENWARE VESSEL OF THE PERIOD OP THE INCAS. 
 
 "The wages of honest folk will be lost if thieves are not hung." 
 
 "He who kills another without reason or without authority condemns himself to 
 death." 
 
 "Envy is an adder which gnaws the entrails of the envious." 
 
 "He who envies and is envied suffers a double torment." 
 
 "The judge who seeks to suppress the claims of another ought to be treated as a 
 thief, and judged and condemned as such." 
 
 "The doctor or the dealer in simples, who administers his medicines or his herbs 
 without knowing their virtues, is a fool worthy of contempt," 
 
 "He who pretends to count the stars, and cannot tell the number of them, deserves 
 that one should laugh in his face." 
 
 To Pachacutec, succeeded his eldest son, Yupanqui. Following the example of 
 lus great-grandfather, Yahuar-Huaccac, he crossed the snowy Cordillera of Huilcanota, 
 penetrated into the valleys of the east, among the peoples who inhabited both sides of 
 
 1 The engravings on the next page are defective ; cteis rigida phallusque erectus, gure insigniebanl hwc simulacra 
 iUague conjungebant agi/ptiacis imaginibus, adempta sunt pudoris causa. 
 
222 
 
 PERU. 
 
 the Amaru-Mayu, 1 reduced some of them, and passing through the country of Musus, 2 
 from which he reached that of the Chirihuanas, 3 returned into the Sierra, and advanced 
 to Chili, then peopled by the Araucanians. He was the first to subjugate the Llipi 
 Indians, of the desert of Atacama, of Copiapo, and of Coquimbo. In his reign the 
 limits of the empire were pushed as far south as the right bank of the Kappel, latitude 
 34° 50'. The ruins of a Peruvian fortress, intended to mark the frontier and prevent 
 the invasions of the Chili Araucanians, may still be seen near that river. 
 
 Historians have ascribed to the Inca Yupanqui the interior decoration of the 
 temple of the Sun. That edifice, commenced by Manco-Capac, finished by Sinchiroca, 
 
 STATUETTES OP GOLD, SILVER, AND ELECTRUM— PERIOD OF THE INCAS. 
 
 improved and embellished by their successors, had nevertheless preserved, in the 
 fifteenth century, its primitive simplicity. Yupanqui, profiting by the tribute in gold 
 and silver 'imposed on the conquered nations, lavished on this temple the treasures of 
 which the Spaniards possessed themselves on their arrival at Cuzco. 
 
 Among the number of buildings which signalized the reign of this Inca, there 
 were four in various quarters of the city, which served as menageries; this Inca 
 appearing to have a special taste for tame and wild animals. One of these edifices, 
 situated in the north-west of the city, 4 served as an aviary, containing birds of every 
 species; another, devoted to boas, pythons, and snakes, was annexed to the ancient 
 palace of Capac Yupanqui; 5 a third, in which pumas, improperly called American 
 lions, were confined, adjoined the temple of the Sun; 6 finally, the fourth, and most 
 celebrated, was peopled with jaguars of various sizes and colours; it crowned the 
 
 1 From inayn, river, and amaru, serpent. The Incas gave it that name on account of its winding course. It is 
 formed by the union of the Ocongate, Coiiispata, Tampu, Pillcopata, Avisca, Callanga, Chaupimayo, Piiiipird, and Tono, 
 which rise in the little valleys of the same names. The Amaru-Mayu has borne, since the end of the last century, the 
 name of Mad/re de Bios, which was given to it on the occasion of a statuette of Mary being found upon the shore. 
 This image came from a chapel built by the Jesuits, in their hacienda of Coiiispata. Having been carried off by the 
 Tuyneris in one of their raids, these savages had thrown it into the river as a worthless object. 
 
 2 Now the Moxos Indians. 
 
 3 The territory of these Indians now belongs to the department of Chuquisaca iu Bolivia. 
 
 4 Now the quarter of Alnuidena. 
 
 5 Now the church of the Jesuits. 
 
 6 Now the church and convent of Santo Dominajo. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 223 
 
 eminence of Amahuara, adjoining the fortress of Sacsahuaman. 1 However, what 
 rendered this edifice remarkable among its neighbours, was not, as one might suppose, 
 the number or variety of the feline race confined in it, but its anthropological curiosities. 
 These consisted of a collection of a hundred Chancas Indians, previously skinned alive, 
 by order of the Inca Yupanqui, as a punishment for their revolt, whose tanned skins, 
 painted in bright colours and stuffed with ashes, figured in the character of musicians, 
 holding drums and flutes, and dancers, suspended from the ceiling. These beautiful 
 objects no longer exist, and of the edifices themselves there remain but a few stones. 
 Tupac Supanqui succeeded to his father. Leaving undisturbed the southern 
 
 STATUETTES OF BASALT — PERIOD OP THE INCAS. 
 
 limits of his empire, he directed his conquests towards the north. Setting out from the 
 provinces of Huacrachucu, Cassac-Marquilla, Cunturmarca, Tumipampa, he passed 
 beyond the country of Lican (the equator). Dating from this epoch, a part of Con- 
 chocando was annexed to the empire, and its boundary traced by a route from Quito 
 to Cuzco established across the Sierra. It is to Tupac Yupanqui, also, that historians 
 ascribe the construction of the fortress of Sacsahuaman, a work which Spanish authors 
 have cried up as an eighth wonder of the world, and at which modern travellers fall 
 into ecstacies of admiration from respect for tradition. 2 That fortress, celebrated by 
 Diego Hernandez and his associates, who have left a lying description of its buildings, 
 its towers, and its pavilions covered with gold, never possessed more than the three 
 walls, built in crescent-shaped retreating platforms, which still exist, although roughly 
 treated by the hand of time and the soldiers of Pizarro. These walls, formed of 
 irregular blocks put together without lime or cement, present twenty-two salient angles, 
 and as many re-entering angles. Each of them had its name and its gate, a large bay 
 
 1 Now the eastern extremity of the quarter of San Bias. 
 
 2 One of these gentlemen, whom we will not name, but whom the reader may easily recognize by the help of the 
 following lines, which we cite from his work, thus expresses himself on the subject of Cuzco, its Iucas, and its monu- 
 ments: "Cuzco interests me infinitely. Its history, its fables, and its rains are alike enchanting. That city might be 
 called the Home of America. The immense fortress, situated on the north of the city, is its Capitol, and the temple of the Sun 
 its Coliseum. Manco Capac was its Romulus, Viracocha its Augustus, Huascar its Pompey, and Atahual/pa its Ccesar. 
 Pizarro, Almagro, Valdivia, and Toledo are the Huns, the (Jollis, and the Christians who destroyed it. Tupac Amaru is its 
 Belisarius, to whom was given a day of hope, and Pumacahua is its Rienzi and latest patriot.'" Surely one could not carry 
 further the sublime ait of rhetoric. 
 
•224 
 
 PERU. 
 
 without doors, the straight side-posts of which were formed by monolithic blocks. The 
 stones of the fortress, the greatest that the Incas have anywhere employed in their con- 
 structions, have received the name of Saycuscas. 1 The first wall nearest the city was 
 called Moyoc-Marca? the second Paucar-Marca? the third Sacttac-Marca.* All three 
 were constructed, as their remains still enable us to determine, in the less perfect 
 cvclopean manner of the heroic period — a detail of no importance in itself, but which 
 I, who am nobody, feel it necessary to be particular in relating, because it puts me in 
 
 IMEBIOB OF THE TEMPLE OF THE SCX DCBIXG THE LATER BEIGXS OF THE INCAS. 
 
 opposition to the illustrious Humboldt, who observes: — ". . . We know by certain 
 ecidence that the Incas constructed the fortress of Cuzco after the model of the more ancient 
 edifices of Tiahuanacu, situated in south latitude 17 = 12"." 
 
 I am forced nevertheless to contradict on this subject the man of science and of 
 genius, led into error by some inexperienced tourist. The buildings of Tiahuanacu and 
 the fortress of Sacsahuaman differ in the shape and size of the stones and in the finish of 
 the work: in a word, both in the kind of material, and the manner of its arrangement iu 
 their construction. One may even say that there is all the difference between the two 
 cases that there is between the infancy of healthy and vigorous art and the period of its 
 decrepitude. Speaking thus of the fortress of Sacsahuaman naturally leads me to remark 
 that among the Quichuas the art of building did not progress, but retrograde, in course 
 
 1 From the verb saycuni, to fatigue ; saycuscas, fatiguing. 
 
 2 Height of water, probably the zone of the level of springs. 
 
 3 Height of flowering, the zoue of vegetation of flowers (Paucar simcc inquill cuna). 
 1 Height dominant, the elevated zone, barren and stony (Sacllac rumi urcu cuna). 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 225 
 
 of time. The palace of Manco-Capac and Sinchiroca, the Accllhuaci, or House of the 
 Virgins, those first efforts of Peruvian art. are also the most perfect. Passing from this 
 epoch, the fashion which the Greeks called isodomon* and the canaliculated or rustic- 
 surfaces, exclusively employed till then in Peruvian edifices, disappeared, and were 
 replaced by cyclopean blocks of great elegance, it is true, and of which we find no 
 equivalent in any Pelasgic construction, but which nevertheless with the Incas con- 
 stitute a phase of decay, and a tendency to barbarism. This kind of construction, of 
 which the palace of Mayta Capac in the Calle del Triunfo is the only specimen with 
 which we are acquainted, itself degenerated under the successors of that Inca. Heavi- 
 ness took the place of elegance, the size of the stones was considered of more import - 
 
 BBHAIN8 OF THE FORTRESS OF S ACS A H C A 11 AX AT Cl'Z 
 
 auce than the finish of the work, and insensibly architecture assumed that Pelasgic 
 character of which the walls of the fortress of Sacsahuaman are an example. 3 "When 
 we compare the works of the fir.-t period of the Incas with those of the later sove- 
 reigns of their, line, we are struck by the length of time, in an artistic point of view, 
 which seems to separate them. Between the constructions of the eleventh century 
 and those of the fifteenth one might suppose there had been an interval of two 
 thousand years. 
 
 Huayna-Capac, the eldest son of Tupac Yupauqui, succeeded on the death of his 
 father. He subjugated the populations of Sechura, Piura, Tumbez. and Santa Helena, 
 who occupied the coast between the sixth degree of south latitude and the second 
 
 1 In this construction, formed of rectangular stones from a foot to a foot and a half long, the vertical joints are always 
 opposed to the middle of the corresponding stone of the lower and superior courses. 
 
 - Called bngnato by Italian architects. 
 
 3 This fortress of Sacsahuaman was considered absolutely impregnable, and had not sustained any siege, but still 
 preserved its mural virginity, when, some fourteen years after its construction, the Spaniards entered Cuzco. 
 
 29 
 
226 
 
 PERU. 
 
 degree north, as well as those of Huanuco and of Chachapoyas, situated east of the Cor- 
 dillera; finally bringing under his rule the petty provinces governed by the Guastays, or 
 tributary princes of the Conchocando of Lican. Notwithstanding that he had already 
 married at Cuzco two of his sisters and one of his cousins, and possessed besides a 
 harem of three hundred concubines, Huayna-Capac espoused the daughter of the sove- 
 reign of Lican, whose name, according to some, was Pachachiri, according to others, Tota- 
 palla. By her he had a son named Atahuallpa. The route from Quito to Cuzco across 
 the Andes, on which Tupac Yupanqui had employed the recently conquered population, 
 was continued by Huayna-Capac as far as the paramos or plateau of Chuquisongo. 1 
 
 The greatest marvel of the reign of this Inca was the chain of gold which he caused 
 to be made when the hair of his eldest son, Inti Cusi Huallpa, was first cut. That 
 
 COURSES OF STONE IN THE FORTRESS OF S AC S A H U A M A X . 
 
 operation was performed in the family of the Incas when the child attained his seventh 
 year. It was the occasion of a family festival called Naca, at which the relations were 
 assembled, who never failed to make the child a present. If Ave are to believe his- 
 torians, the golden chain which Huayna-Capac had had cast and sculptured from the 
 tributes alone of the latest conquered nations was 800 yards long. It served to encircle 
 the great square of Cuzco during the equinoctial festivals Raymi and Cittua. This pro- 
 digious specimen of jewelry disappeared at the period of the Conquest. Historians, 
 to whom we are indebted for the description of it, assert that the Indians of Cuzco 
 threw it into the Lake of Urcos to save it from the rapacity of the Spaniards. 
 
 1 The military road of the Incas commenced from the side of Quito only, and never existed on the Cuzco side, where, 
 on the faith of the learned Humboldt, who gave it more than 2000 miles of length, we vainly sought for it during several 
 years. Its length from Quito to beyond Cajamarca, where it stopped unfinished, might be from 550 to 600 miles. This 
 road, which, according to the always exaggerated accounts of the historians, and the parrot repetitious of certain travellers, 
 one might suppose to be even to this day a grand highway, paved with granite, and bordered with parapets throughout its 
 entire length, is in fact nothing but the work of nature assisted here and there by the hand and the labour of man. For 
 every league or two that we find it bordered by enormous stones there are spaces three or four times as great where we find 
 nothing of the kind. In the neighbourhood of inhabited places, near Assuay, Gualaaco, on the heights of Cueuca, aud 
 above all, near Cajamarca, it has been constructed with more care than in the desert regions of the Cordillera. At certain 
 points from which the prospect embraces a vast horizon, it presents some monolithic blocks cut in steps, and evidently 
 destined to sustain sieges. In a word, there are ruins of crumbling walls, tampus, and fortresses, at long intervals. The 
 construction of this road was interrupted by the death of Huayna-Capac, and was never recommenced. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 99/ 
 
 Huayna-Capac died at Quito from inflammation of the lungs caused by taking 
 a cold bath, into which he had plunged when perspiring. Struck by the appearance of 
 white and bearded men mounted upon winged monsters, who ploughed the seas of the 
 south, 1 he predicted to his relations before dying that strangers sent by Pachacamac 
 (God) would take possession of America, and put an end to the dynasty of the Incas. 
 Here, therefore, we touch on the Spanish conquest, a grave historical event which 
 resounded through the whole world, revolutionized the ideas and science of the 
 epoch when it occurred, and of which the immediate consequences were, as Huayna- 
 Capac had predicted, the fall of the empire of the Incas, and the end of their 
 dynasty. 
 
 Inti Cusi Huallpa, better known under the name of Huascar, succeeded his father 
 Huayna-Capac. Shortly before his death the latter had divided his vast empire into 
 
 THE ISODOMONIC MODE OF CONSTRUCTION'. 
 
 COURSES (IF STONE EN BOSSAGE, OR RUSTIC FASHI"\. 
 
 two unequal parts, each of which had its sovereign. The largest, the richest, and the 
 noblest of the two, that which comprised the veritable empire of the Sun (Ai/lla Ccozqco), 
 to which the other remained vassal and tributary, fell to Huascar as the legitimate son 
 and direct heir of Huayna-Capac. The other portion, which comprised the ancient 
 states of the Conchocando of Lican, became the appanage of Atahuallpa. This division, 
 unequal as it was, offended Huascar, who, unable to forgive his brother for his ille- 
 gitimate birth and the favour with which he had been honoured by their father, resolved 
 to take from him the provinces which he held by the will of Huayna-Capac. On his 
 part, Atahuallpa, either guessing the intention of his brother, or too proud to pay him 
 homage, conceived the idea of dethroning Huascar, and making himself sole master of 
 the empire. 
 
 The struggle between the two brothers soon commenced. Each of them had a large 
 army on foot to support his pretensions; each in turn was conqueror and conquered. 
 After three years of desperate warfare, the issue was still pending between the rivals, 
 when, in a skirmish before the walls of the city of Andamarca, Huascar was taken pri- 
 soner by two of Atahuallpa's generals. Their first care was to snatch from his forehead 
 
 1 The Spaniards and their vessels. The caravel commanded by Vasco Nunez de Balboa had been observed some years 
 before off Sechura and San Miguel while the Inca Huayna-Capac was at Tumipampa. 
 
228 PERU. 
 
 the mascca-paycha, the attribute of power, and to send it to their master, as a proof that 
 the struggle was ended. Atahuallpa was then encamped at Caxamarca (then Caxa- 
 malca), about 336 miles from the city of Andamarea, where his brother Huascar was 
 detained prisoner. This unhoped-for success fulfilled all his desires; already he saw 
 himself in imagination lord of Cuzco, and master of a powerful empire, when Francisco 
 Pizarro and his companions, who had disembarked at Tumbez and ci'ossed the Sierra, 
 entered Caxamarca ! 
 
 The arrival of these strangers, to whose first reported appearance Atahuallpa had 
 been far from attending, deranged a little his future prospects. He nevertheless put 
 a good face on the matter, and tried by friendly demonstrations and rich presents to 
 
 CYCLOPEAN METHOD OF CONSTRUCTION: PALACE OF THE INCA MATTA CAPAC. 
 
 secure their good-will. Huascar, for his part, having been apprised of the arrival of 
 bearded men with white skins, found means, notwithstanding the watch that was kept 
 upon him, to inform them of his position, and claim their assistance to recover his 
 throne. Thus situated between two sovereigns, one of whom solicited his friendship, the 
 other his assistance, and each pretending to have equal right to the empire, Pizarro took 
 the simplest possible course, by setting aside both the contending sovereigns, and seiz- 
 ing the empire himself. As he was above all things a man of action, he organized 
 a massacre of the Indians on the very next day, and imprisoned Atahuallpa in his own 
 palace. 
 
 When intelligence of these transactions arrived at Andamarea, the two generals of 
 Atahuallpa, who had constituted themselves the ad interim jailers of Huascar, fancied 
 that Pizarro and his Spaniards, by their massacre of the population of Caxamarca, and 
 the imprisonment of Atahuallpa, meant to reinstate Huascar on the throne of his fathers. 
 The intention of the Hueracochas appeared the more manifest, seeing that Hernando 
 Pizarro, one of the conquerors, had come to visit the Inca in his prison — "to revive Ms 
 courage," say some authors; to "look after //i.< treasures" say others. If their surmise 
 was correct, Quizquiz and Challcuchima — the jailers of Huascar — judged it would be 
 good policy to rid themselves of a prisoner who, should he ever remount his throne, 
 would either roast them at a slow fire, or flay them alive, for their audacity. Taking 
 advantage of a dark night, therefore, they dragged Huascar from his prison, and 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 229 
 
 strangled him or killed him with a hatchet — opinions are divided as to the manner of 
 his death — and threw his body into the river of Andamarca. 1 
 
 Pizarro received the announcement of Huascar's death with the satisfaction of 
 a verse-maker who hits unexpectedly on a long rebellious rhyme. For three months 
 he had revolved in his brain some plausible means of ridding himself of Atahuallpa, 
 and had found no way to do so, when the demon came to his aid. Atahuallpa, frat- 
 ricide, usurper, and heretic, was not worthy to live. Arraigned before a tribunal 
 presided over by Pizarro, the prisoner was convicted without difficulty of the three 
 alleged crimes, and was condemned to be burned alive. A commutation of his sen- 
 tence was offered if he would consent to abjure his idolatry and receive baptism. 
 
 CYCLOPEAN CONSTRUCTION IN THE LATER PERIOD OP THE INCAS. 
 
 He accepted the alternative, and after being baptized under the name of Juan by 
 the monk Valverde, he was garotted on the 3d of May, 1532. Pizarro was present 
 at the execution, gave him a pompous burial, and wore mourning for him twenty 
 days. 2 
 
 To the official list of the thirteen Incas who reigned over Peru from the foun- 
 dation of Cuzco to the Spanish conquest, and whose reigns we have briefly sketched, 
 we will add the pi'inces of their line of whom historians make no mention. 
 
 This pedigree, imperial tree as they call it at Cuzco, was painted and written 
 upon Chinese taffeta by an artist of Cuzco in the sixteenth century. It was pre- 
 served with the greatest care in the archives of the cathedral, as much for its his- 
 torical value as for the time employed in its execution. The work cost, we are 
 told, six years of assiduous labour. As it was composed of twenty-four medallions 
 of emperors and empresses, and of an inscription of about five hundred words, 
 each of two or three syllables long, the nameless artist must have written a word 
 
 1 Tradition relates that the unhappy Inea, after he had tried in vain to soften the murderers, whom he sup- 
 posed to be acting by order of his brother Atahuallpa, exclaimed, " Malum asccatachw camachini auccainiy causainiy- 
 tnanta camachecc, caimin manani asllatapis camackecta atipahuanchu" — My reign has been short, but the traitor who 
 disposes of my life, though he was my subject, will reign no longer than I. 
 
 2 The ransom which this sovereign during his detention at Caxamarca offered Pizarro to save his life, and 
 which the latter accepted without completing his part of the bargain, amounted to ,£3,500,000 sterling in gold and about 
 £35,000 in silver. 
 
230 
 
 PERU. 
 
 every four days, and painted a medallion every three months! This original and 
 conscientious work, which Garcilaso de la Vega had the happiness to see in all its 
 beauty, as he tells us himself in his Commentaires Royanx, disappeared during the 
 occupation of Cuzco by the Independents. Happily for the friends of iconography, 
 a family of the country, whose name figures among the princes of the ninth descent, 
 designated Ayllo Ccozgco Panaca, possessed a copy of it, which they were willing to 
 communicate, and which Ave here reproduce. 
 
 1st Pedigree: Ayllo C'hima Panaca. 
 
 /i 
 
 
 I X C A MASCO C C A P A C - 
 
 COTA MAMA OCLLO HUACCO. 
 
 Sinchi Eocca. — Apo Anauci. — Anta Ccachuncar. — Rocca Yupanqui. — Auqui Ccluima.— Auqui AJlcay. — Piiias Ttupa. 
 
 2d Pedigree: Allo Eadrahda Panaca. 
 
 ; fr. 
 
 ■' 
 
 ^T'V ' v 
 
 ■ 
 
 JNCA SINCHI KUCCA. 
 
 COVA MAMA CUKA OCCLLO. 
 
 Lloqui Yupanqui. — Auqui Allcay. — rinas Ttupa. — Auta Ccachuncar. — Rocca Yupanqui.— Auqui Ccbuma. 
 
PERU. 
 
 231 
 
 3d Pedigree: Hahuanima Ayllo. 
 
 ** Wr \ ' 
 
 
 •,.. 
 
 m -. 
 
 
 INCA LLOQUI YUPANQUI 
 
 COYA MAMA CCAHUANA. 
 
 Mayta Ccapac. — Apu Condemayta. — Orccu Huaraucca. — Apo Jisac Condemayta. — Condi Maucaylli. — Maytu Purian. — Ccayau Jahuaira. 
 
 Pauca Jalli. 
 
 4lh Pedigree: Usca Mayta. 
 
 
 ~&n 
 
 
 
 f. 
 
 A'/V/jiL'. 
 
 INCA MAYTA CCAPAC. 
 
 COYA MAMA CTJCA. 
 
 Ccapac Yupanqui. — Jarcco Huaman. — Paucar Mayta. — Apuri Mayta. — Apu Orcco Huarancca. — Apu Ahuayclia. — Michi Yupanqui. — Apu 
 Tisoc Yupanqui. — Auqui Huarinarco. — Auqui Ccopalli Mayta. — Apu Saylla Ccaca. — Auqui Cchuina Huisa, — Condemayta. —Quis- 
 quicllan. — Quimi Mayta. — Huaccac Mayta. — Ccopalli Mayta. — Inti Conde Mayta. — Auqui Jarqqui. — Tampu Uscamayta. — Ancca Marca. 
 — Apu Cchoro. — Huarcailli Quiso Mayta. — Auqui Llamac Chimpo. — Auqui Jayancca. — Auqui Jocay. — Auqui Cahuitupa. — Auqui Jotic. 
 — Auqui Cullinchima. — Auqui Hualla. — Auqui Allcca Chimpo. — Ccochau Condemayta. 
 
232 
 
 PERU. 
 
 Oth Pedigree: Atllo Apuaiatta Panaca Ur.is C'cozcco. 
 
 
 ' 'i 
 
 
 -n i ^ 
 
 
 INCA CCAPAC TUPANQCI. 
 
 OT A MAMA C U R I H I L L P A. 
 
 Rocca. — Auqui Apumayta. — Apu Rimachi Mayta. — Auqui Huayllacan. — Curia Jahuaira. — Paucar Jalli. — Apu Quisquis. 
 
 Gth Pedigree: Atllo Hdicca Iquirai Panaca Anas Ccozgco. 
 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 INCA ROCCA. 
 
 COTA MAMA MICHAT CHIMPO. 
 
 Yahuar Huaccac. — Auqui Huicca Iquirau. — Paucar Huamataysi. — Auqui Urcco Yupanqui. — Auqui Huarancca. — Huamau Itupa. — Huaccac 
 
 Mayta. — Auqui Jampo Jocto. 
 
PERU. 
 
 233 
 
 7th Pedigree: Ayllo Huacailli Panaca. 
 
 
 v-',; : , 
 
 I 
 
 F 
 ii 
 
 h 
 
 11 \ 
 
 MlRSfexK 
 
 ■•.,■■ 
 
 /" 
 
 
 I N C A TAH0A1I HOACCA 0. 
 
 OOYA MAMA CCHOQUE CCHICTA HILLPAI. 
 
 Huira Ccocha.— Orcco Huarancca.— Apu Marota.— Auqui Mayta. — Chima Chahuac— Sibi Rocca. — Pahuac Chulliraayta.— Tupa Huaman- 
 cliiri. — Auqui Auccailli.— Apu Hiqqui Yupanqui.— Auqui Cchara.— Tupa Qqueso.— Huamaurimachi.— Atau Yupanqui.— Ccollo Tupan 
 Yupanqui. — Auqui Ticsi Huatutopa. — Panaca G'hahomayta. 
 
 Sth Pedigree: Ayllo Sacso Panaca. 
 
 
 INCA HOIRA CCOCIIA. 
 
 COYA MAMA KUNTO. 
 
 Orcco. 1 — Pacha Ccutic. — Auqui Ticsi Yupanqui.— Yibi Yupanqui. — Sucsu Collatupa. — Chalco Yupanqui. — Auqui Yupanqui. — Cayru 
 Yupanqui. — Quispi Sucsu. — Auqui Ticsi Yupanqui.— Auqui Micbi. — Apu Janqui Yupanqui. — Auqui Itupa. — Auqui Qquiso. — Auqui 
 Huallpa Itupa. — Itupac Rarico. — Paucar Cchuiiio. 
 
 1 Orcco, more commonly called Urco, succeeded to his father, and reigned six months. He was a downright nonentity, 
 according to tradition, and at the same time full of vice, drunken, brutal, quarrelsome, and so licentious that even the 
 vestal worshippers of the Sun were not spared. His people having deposed him, his sister and wife, as well as his 
 concubines, abandoned him. From respect for the memory of the Inca Viracocha the Amautas effaced from their 
 traditional quipos the name of his son Urco, who, from that moment, was not reckoned among the Incas. 
 vol. i. 30 
 
234 
 
 PERU. 
 
 9th Pedigree: Ayllo Ccozcco Panaca 
 
 
 INCA PACHA CCUTIC. 
 
 COYA MAMA ANAUUAHQUI. 
 
 Yupanqui. -Amaro Tupac Uturunoo. -Achachi Sinchi Rocca.'-Apu Achachi.-Apu lllaq.uta.-lma Ititu.-Itupac Yupanqui.-Huayna 
 Auqui Yupanqui.— Jayan Achachi. — Auqui Itupa.— Ccacca Ccozcco.— Anahuarqui.—Sahuaiaura. 
 
 10th Pedigree: Ayllo Inca Panaca. 
 
 
 INCA YUPANQUI. 
 
 COYA MAMA CIIIMPO OCLLO. 
 
 Tupac Yupanqui.— Chanca Itupa. — Auqui Larico. — Huaillac Cchillca. — Itupa Yupanqui. — Salta Cusi Huallpa. — raucar Itupa. — Huaman 
 Achachi. — Huayna Yupanqui. — Mayta Yupanqui. — Auqui Qquiso. — Qqueso Yupanqui. — Paucar Itupa. — Mayau. — Ttupa Titu Yupanqui. 
 — Cchach'ua Rimachi Huallpa. — Atoc Kimachi Huallpa. — Anti Tupa Auqui Huillacpi. — Auqui Calla Conchay. — Huallpa Ttupa. — Anccas 
 Palla. — Ccolque Coca. 
 
 1 It is to this prince, appointed generalissimo of the armies of the empire by his elder brother Yupanqui, that the 
 credit is due for the definitive subjugation of the Llipis of Atacama, of Copiapo, and of Coquimbo, and for the conquest 
 of Chili. The Inca Yupanqui, to whom history ascribes these conquests, remained at Cuzco. 
 
PERU. 
 
 11th Pedigree: Atllo Ccapac Panaca. 
 
 235 
 
 
 = -J.Al\ 
 
 
 ISCA TUPAC TDPANQUI. 
 
 COTA MAMA CHIMPU OCLLU. 
 
 Huayna Ccapac— Auqui Amaru Tupac— Qquechuar Tupac— Titu Rimachi. — Auqui Mayta.— Apu Sahuaraura.— Auqui Tomac Tupa.— 
 Tumis Ccalla.— Ayar Marcu.— Junqui Ttupa.— Auqui Chicllo Ccallo.— Auqui Tomac — Ccayo Tupac— Ccolla Tupac Siuchi Ruccana. — 
 Qquechuar Ttupa.— Huari Ttitu.— Quispi Huallpa.— Tupa Yupanqui.— Auqui Suna Huallpa.— Anti Tupa.— Tasnac Cusi Huallpa.— 
 Puric Tupa Ccoritupa.— Charca Ttupa.— Auqui Aucco.— Mauco Ttupa.— Ticsi Huallpa.— Auqui Huallpa.— Tupa Rimachi.— Tupa 
 Tticollopaisi.— Auqui Sutanca.— Tupa Huaman. — Auqui Ccana.— Auqui Atavalo.— Pilco Tupa. 
 
 ISth Pedigree: Atllo Tumipampa Panaca. 
 
 INCA HUATNA CCAPAC. 
 
 
 \< ', 
 
 COTA MAMA PILLCO HCACCO. 
 
 COTA MAMA KAHDA OCLLO. 
 
 COTA MAMA KUNTO. 
 
 Inti Cusi Huallpa (Huascar). — Mahco.— Huaca Ttupa Paullu. 1 — Mama Cchoqui. — Mama Hillpa Cchoqui. — Mama Cmja Hupa. — Mama 
 Judo Oellu Coca. — Auqui Huanca. — Auqui Pumaca. — Sayri Tupac — Auri Tupac Amaru. — Tupa Atauchi. — Choqui Huaman. — Mama 
 Cusi Chimpo.— Pilco Ititu. — Titu Atauchi. — Mama Hillquiia. — Doiia Ines Quittpe Sisa. — Doiia Beatrix Quispe Sisa. — Juan Atahuallpa. 
 — Francisco Atahuallpa. — Dona Isabel Pallet. — Doiia Mariquita Itaquitei. — Doita Maria Assorpi NinaTlcorro. — Auqui Ruqui. — Don 
 Carlos Inquil Tupa. — Don Alonzo Pucasa. — Don Estevan Ccolla. — Itupa Huanca. — Auqui Tupa Ataurimachi. — Chicha Thupa. — Achachi 
 Tupac. 
 
 1 The names printed in italics are those of women, sisters or cousins of the princes of this pedigree. 
 
236 
 
 PERU. 
 
 Incas of tiie 12th and last pedigree. 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 V 
 
 ...''V 
 
 c-»y 
 
 INTI-COSI HUALLPA (HUASCAK), 13TH INCA. 
 
 COTA MAMA CHOQUI. 
 
 Iii the pedigree of Huana Capac, which is the last of the series, notwithstanding 
 that Hnascar, the eldest son of that sovereign, had reigned for three years over Pern, 1 
 we may recognize the disturbing influence of the Conquest upon the families of royal 
 blood. To the legitimate male descendants, who are alone inscribed in the preceding- 
 reigns, are now added those of uncles, nephews, cousins, and illegitimate branches. Juan 
 Atahuallpa, son of the sovereign executed by the Spaniards, figures by the side of his 
 nephew Francisco Atahuallpa, a son of Pizarro. 2 For the first time also women are 
 mixed with men, and Indian names preceded by baptismal ones are connected with those 
 of the Spanish nobility. Disorder and confusion are conspicuous. 
 
 However, the dynasty of the Incas is not yet extinct. In this tumultuous period 
 which intervenes between the fall of the ancient empire and the establishment of the 
 viceroys, one sees the dynasty revived and ruling for some years under the tutelage 
 of Spain, as if the conquerors, on overthrowing the established order and usurping 
 the seat of authority, had been willing to give to that usurpation some kind of legal 
 sanction. But the Incas whom they re-established temporarily in power are no more 
 than lay figures, tricked out in frippery and crowned to satisfy the vulgar eye. When 
 
 1 As, at the death of his father, Hnascar was not old enough to reign, one of his uncles, named Colla Tupac, was 
 intrusted with the regency for some years. Previously, in the twelfth century, a similar thing had occurred on the death 
 of Lloqui Yupanqui, whose heir, Mayta Capac, was a minor. Nevertheless, no member of the family having been 
 deemed worthy or capable of governing the empire ad interim, the many-coloured woollen fillet, then the symbol of 
 power, was deposited in the temple of the Sun, where it remained till the young prince attained his majority. 
 
 2 Atahuallpa left a son and two daughters. The son received at baptism the name of Juan, which had been that 
 given by Valverde to his father some minutes before his death. The two daughters were named Beatrice and Angelina. 
 Pizarro, at a later period, had a son by this Angelina, who took the name of Francisco: he also had a child by the aunt 
 of Angelina, a sister of Atahuallpa, their parents being the Inca Huayna Capac and Totapalla, This child, a daughter, 
 was baptized Francisca Pizarro. She lived to marry Don Martin Ampuero, and commenced the line of Ampuero, whose 
 descendants are numerous in Pern. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 237 
 
 once the Spanish domination is thoroughly established throughout the provinces of the 
 immense empire, these phantom sovereigns will disappear never more to return. 
 
 The fourteenth Inca who girdled his brow with the mascca-paycha was Manco, 
 a younger brother of Huascar. Like the last he reigned three years, and was killed 
 at a game of bowls by a Spaniard named Gomez Perez. In the heat of a dispute 
 between two players the Inca had boxed the Spaniard's cars, upon which the latter 
 hurled one of the bowls at his head and killed him on the spot. 1 The people tore 
 the Spaniard to pieces. 
 
 The fifteenth Inca was Sayri Tupac, brother of Manco. The Spaniards baptized him 
 under the name of Diego, and crowned him at Vilcapampa. By an accident of ill omen 
 the mascca-paycha or imperial crown which they placed on his head was that worn by 
 Atahuallpa at Caxamarca, and which a Spanish soldier named Miguel Astete had taken 
 from him when he made him prisoner. Sayri Tupac reigned some months only and died, 
 leaving a daughter, whom Pizarro married to one of his captains named Martin Loyola. 
 
 Sayri Tupac was succeeded by his brother Philippe Tupac Amaru. He reigned five 
 months. Accused of fomenting disturbances among the indigenous populations, he had 
 his head cut off in the great square of Cuzco. Thirty-six of his relations and adherents 
 were executed with him. 
 
 Cristoval Paullu, his brother, was the seventeenth and last Inca of Peru. His reign 
 was of short duration. He abdicated in favour of the Spaniards, and retired into the 
 little valley of Yucay, eighteen miles north-east from Cuzco, where he ended his days in 
 peace. With him disappeared the moral authority of the Incas and the prestige attached 
 to their name. In 1781 Gabriel Tupac Amaru, grandson of Philippe Tupac Amaru, 
 having tried to revive the past, was cruelly executed (icarteU) at Cuzco. His wife, his 
 two sons, his uncle, and his nephew, accused of being his accomplices, perished with him. 
 This descendant of the Incas had said before dying that the germs of liberty which he had 
 sown in the spirit of his compatriots would develop and fructify one day under the breath 
 of tyranny. Forty-three years afterwards Simon Bolivar and San Martin verified in the 
 plains of Ayacucho the prophecy of Tupac Amaru by driving out of Peru the last of its 
 viceroys and proclaiming its independence. 
 
 In this resume of the historic period of the Incas — the last gleams of a civilization 
 which mounts perhaps to some thousands of years — we have been compelled to treat the 
 matter summarily. While avoiding details, we may observe that if the history of civiliza- 
 tion among the American indigenes is obscure, it is because the East itself has been little 
 known. During late years, however, a great change has taken place. The study of San- 
 scrit and of the languages derived from it, and the explication of historical documents 
 concealed beneath hieroglyphic and cuneiform characters, have dissipated in some 
 measure the darkness which had shrouded the past, and opened up fresh paths to Euro- 
 pean erudition. Problems apparently insoluble have thus had unexpected light thrown 
 upon them, and immense lacunce in history have been satisfactorily filled up. By 
 what has already been accomplished, we may form an idea of what will be achieved 
 hereafter. 
 
 'Some authors state that he was stabbed with a poniard. 
 
238 PERU. 
 
 The ethnography of America, so obscure at present, will have fresh light thrown 
 upon it by these studies. Already we are aware that it is not to the people of the time 
 of the Conquest that we must look for the secret of their origin. It is by investigations 
 at the source itself, in the north of Asia, India and Persia, and the extreme East, that 
 we can alone hope to obtain satisfactory results. This is the road which the first civilized 
 nations followed in remote times when they wandered from the south to the north. It 
 is therefore by retracing the same journey from north to south, thus by remounting from 
 the effect to the cause, that the studious generation of our epoch and their successors 
 will come upon the track of this ancient migration. 
 
 The time will come, let us hope, when the active concourse of intelligences, and the 
 application of new means to ethnologic researches, will bring the solution of many pro- 
 blems which at present baffle the skill of the learned. The archaeological examination 
 of still existing American monuments will lighten up some obscure points in the theo- 
 gony of the peoples to whom they are attributed, while at the same time it will make us 
 acquainted with the religious schisms which divided them. Anthropology and philology, 
 those important clues in pre-historic research, will assist us to refer to a primitive type 
 and a primordial language the scattered traits of the physiognomy of these peoples and 
 their diverse idioms. We shall recover the relationship of one to the other, establish by 
 unanswerable proofs their fraternity with the peoples of the primitive group, and, in fine, 
 determine the chronological order of their migrations, starting from those legendary ages 
 when the human race, flowing like a river from its source, spread itself over the world, 
 and took possession of its great inheritance. 
 
 While we await that future, let us leave undisturbed in the obscurity of past ages 
 the ancient Cuzco and the Incas by whom it was founded, and give our attention to the 
 modern city, which we find very nearly siich as it was when reconstructed by Pizarro 
 after the Conquest, and as it was left, in 1824, by La Serna, the last viceroy of Peru. 
 
 To judge from the remains of the walls, which, from San Juan de Dios to the 
 heights of San Bias, defined the limits of the ancient city, and at the same time pro- 
 tected it from the falling in of the cerros, the modern city has gained but little in extent. 
 That which it has lost in architectural character is compensated by a proportionate gain 
 in symmetrical arrangement — a poor compensation, indeed, in the eyes of artistic tra- 
 vellers, but more than sufficient for people of a realistic turn of mind. 
 
 The area of the existing city — the figure of which is that of an irregular paral- 
 lelogram, developed from north-west to south-east — may be about 33,000 square 
 yards, if measured from San Bias in the Almudena, and from the Eecoleta in Santa 
 Ana. A rapid torrent, the Huatanay, which takes its rise in the Cordillera of Sapi, 
 and runs from north-east to south-west, traverses the city, which it divides into 
 two unequal parts. This stream, flowing through a deep trench, almost dry in winter, 
 and rushing like a torrent when the summer heats have melted the snows of the 
 Cordillera, serves as the common sewer of Cuzco, which it relieves of its house drain- 
 age and other uncleannesses. In the west part of the city its high banks, which 
 are united in various places by extemporized bridges of timber covered with slabs of 
 stone, are cut to a perpendicular face, and supported by walls of coarse construction. 
 
HELIOGU «UMND 
 
 REFERENCES AND DESCRIPTION. 
 
 A. Fortress of Sacsahuaman. 
 
 B Palace of the Iuca Manco Capac, now the quarter and 
 parish of San Cristoval. 
 
 ( '. C. Ancient wards or quarters, now occupied by bakers. 
 
 D. A siraihir ancient quarter, now the college of San 
 
 Antonio. 
 
 E. The principal street of the city, Calle del Sacsahuaman. 
 
 F. F. F. F. Andanerias, or walls, to prevent the falling in 
 
 of the Cerros. 
 
 G. Palace and Menagerie of the Iuca Tupac Yupauqui, 
 
 now the quarter and parish of San Bias. 
 H. H. Walls of an old inclosure, now the street of San 
 
 Bias. 
 I. Palace of the Inca Ilueracocha, now the cathedral and 
 
 annexed buildings. 
 J. The Great Square, in which public festivals were cele- 
 brated in the time of the Iucas, now the Cathedral 
 
 Square. 
 K. Palace of the Inca Sinchiroca,now the Calle del Triunfo, 
 
 and south-west side of the Cathedral Square. 
 L. L. Ancient palace of the Vestals of the Sun, now the 
 
 convent of Saint Catherine, church of St, Augustine, 
 
 and adjacent streets. 
 
 M. M. M. Palace of the Inca Mayta Capac. recently a 
 
 Jesuit church, guard-house, and public prison. 
 X. X. N. N. N. Walls forming the ancient revetment of 
 
 the Huatanay, a stream which runs through the city, 
 
 and divides it into two unequal parts. 
 0. Ruins of unknown edifices, now the church and con- 
 vent of the order of Mercy. 
 P. P. Ancient inclosures, now the Place du Cabildo and 
 
 the quarter of San Juan de Dios. 
 Q. Sustaining walls, forming also an ancient inclosure, now 
 
 the Hospital Quarter. 
 R. Sustaining walls, now inclosing the quarter of Santa 
 
 Ana. 
 S. S. S. Ruins of unknown edifices, now the quarter and 
 
 convent of San Francisco. 
 T. T. Ancient inclosure walls, now the quarter of the 
 
 Almudena. 
 U. U. U. Temple of the Sun and its dependencies, now 
 
 the quarter, church, and convent of Saint Domingo. 
 V. Corridor du Ciel. 
 X. Ancient sustaining walls, now the church and convent 
 
 of the Recoleta. 
 Y. The Devil's Pulpit. 
 
ACOPIA TO CTJZCO. 
 
 241 
 
 These walls, let me hasten to say, are historic. They date from the reign of the Incas, 
 and reverence for their antiquity causes archaeological travellers, who appear at Cuzco 
 once in half a century perhaps, to make a close study of them, notwithstanding the 
 stench of the filthy waters, which imparts a slimy verdure to their base — a stench 
 which these savants dispel either by holding their noses, or by tickling the pituitary 
 membrane with Spanish snuff. 
 
 The Cozco of the Incas was simply divided into a higher and lower town, enm- 
 
 HOUSE AT CDZOO IN WHICH THE HISTOBIAN GARCILASO DE LA VEGA WAS BOBN. 
 
 prised in two quarters, called Hurin and Hanan. The Cuzco of the Spaniards com- 
 prises seven districts: 1 the Cathedral, Belen, Santiago, the Hospital, Santa Ana, San 
 Cristoval, and San Bias, which are divided, good and bad alike, into squares or madras, 
 giving a total of 3000 houses for a population which, at the last census, amounted to 
 20,370 souls. Of these 3000 houses about a thousand are nothing more than filthy 
 kennels, at least one-half of which are beer-shops (cabarets tl chicha). One entire 
 street, the Calle de las Heladerias, is devoted to the trade in sherbets and ices. In 
 this street, towards the middle of the sixteenth century, was born the historiographer 
 Garcilaso de la Vega, of an illustrious Spanish family on his father's side, and with a 
 skin sufficiently dark to betray his relationship to the Incas on the other. The house 
 in which he first saw the light was inhabited at the period of my visit by a washer- 
 
 1 I do not include within the limits of the city the villages of San Sebastian and San Jeronimo, which the reader has 
 visited in my company, although the statisticians of the country treat them as suburbs (in orig. faubourgs) of Cuzco, 
 from which they are nearly ten miles distant. 
 
 VOL. I. 31 
 
242 PERU. 
 
 woman, a Semiramis in humble life, who occupied the ground-floor and the first story, 
 where she had created on the window-sill a hanging-garden with pots of carnations 
 and cages of birds. The second story, usually decorated with wet rags hung upon 
 lines stretched across the windows, was the abode of a one-eyed Indian who was a 
 trainer of performing clogs. 
 
 Cuzco, formerly the capital of a vast empire, but now only the chief town of a 
 department and the seat of a bishop, possesses, besides its cathedral and fifteen 
 churches — seven of which belong to religious communities — four convents for men, 
 San Francisco, La Merced, Santo Domingo, and La Recoleta; three convents for women, 
 Santa Teresa, Santa Catalina, and Santa Clara; and six beguinages or retreats, Las 
 Nazarenas, Santa Rosa, Santo Domingo, Las Carmelitas de San Bias, Las Franciscanas 
 de Belen, and San Francisco. There are also several houses of spiritual exercise, where, 
 during the evenings of Holy Week, men and women, shut up in separate apartments, 
 extinguish the lights, and flagellate themselves in expiation of the sins committed in the 
 course of the year. 
 
 The churches and convents of Cuzco are, for the most part, built of a hard stone, 
 such as carboniferous sandstone, porphyritic trachyte, or a feldspathic granite, in place 
 of wood, loam, or plaster, like those of the coast towns. This difference in the nature 
 of the materials has been determined by the situation of the last-named edifices at the 
 foot of the chain of the Andes, in the neighbourhood of some volcano, where they are 
 exposed to frequent earthquake shocks. Hence, too, the use of plaster daubed with 
 a wash of pearl-gray, or perhaps some shade of pink, to disguise the wood-work of the 
 building. The edifices of Cuzco have no need of resorting to such vulgar artifices. 
 They display in all its natural simplicity the stone of which they are built, sobered 
 in colour by the lapse of time and the effects of sun and rain. Their physiognomy 
 is marked by a sad grandeur or gloomy majesty not easy to describe, but which har- 
 monizes well with the melancholy of the sky, the unchangeableness of the climate, and 
 the heavy outlines of the neighbouring mountains. 
 
 The interior arrangement of the churches is nearly always in the form of a Latin 
 cross. Some have nothing but a nave, without side aisles, as the church of the Jesuits ; 
 others have a principal nave and two secondary ones, as the church of the order of 
 Mercy; or three chief naves and two collateral, as the cathedral. Their semicircular 
 vaults, more than twice the height of those on the coast, are sometimes quite simple, 
 sometimes strengthened by double arches, and supported by engaged columns or mere 
 pilasters. The architectural decoration of the interior of these churches is generally 
 very simple. Occasionally that simplicity extends to the exterior of the edifice, their 
 whole ornamentation being limited to a triangular pediment engaged between two 
 advanced towers, supported by pairs of columns, and surmounted by a story pierced 
 with square windows, and decorated with small columns like the facade of the cathedral. 
 Sometimes, again, the ornamentation is indebted to the Hispano-Lusitanian taste 
 of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries for its embellishment of pinnacles and 
 acroterise, pyramidions and balls, to which is added the luxury of scrolls, eggs, volutes, 
 roses, and chicory, borrowed from the same period. The church of the Jesuits and that 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 l>43 
 
 of the order of Mercy present on their facades a complete assortment of these fantastic 
 devices. Let it be observed, however, that these various specimens of architectural 
 bric-a-brac, instead of being- moulded in plaster and afterwards stuck in their places, are 
 laboriously sculptured in the trachyte or granite of the Andes, so that the mason may 
 be said to have succeeded where the architect has failed. 
 
 The display of luxury which, as we have seen, characterizes the churches of 
 
 s ("r.TT==^i 
 
 CHEAT SQUAKE AND CATHEDRAL OF CUZCO. 
 
 Arequipa, is rivalled by those of Cuzco. There is the same profusion of costly 
 materials, mingled and combined according to all the rules of an unsophisticated piety 
 and uncultivated taste. To behold on some solemn religious occasion, sparkling in 
 the blaze of the wax lights, the magnificence of these churches, their altars encrusted 
 with gold and precious stones, one might well say, knowing their deficiencies in all 
 that regards art and style, that the mere show of wealth is considered a sufficient sub- 
 stitute for them, as women sometimes imagine their plainness will pass unnoticed if 
 they make a sufficient display of jewelry. 
 
 The cathedral of Cuzco, whose high-altar is of solid silver, as likewise is the reredos 
 and all the ornaments which crown it, possesses a fabulous store of riches in the shape 
 of reliquaries, remonstrances, pixes, chalices, patens, stars of diamonds, rubies, topazes, 
 and emeralds, enough to fill with jealousy the heart of any pope of the time when the 
 popes were in their greatest glory. It is true the architecture of this gorgeously- 
 
244 PERU. 
 
 endowed monument, both exteriorly and interiorly, is but little worthy of the strong- 
 box of so much wealth. Built on a platform where stood, in the fourteenth century, 
 the palace of the Inca Viracocha, its plan, as before observed, is that of an oblong 
 square, and its elevation presents two stories with salient wings or towers. The three 
 doors and three windows of its facade are separated by coupled columns, and 
 this part of the work is finished with a pediment. The trachyte sandstone of which 
 it is built has acquired by age a sooty hue, which contrasts strongly with the chalky 
 whiteness of the cupolas of its five naves and its two towers. 
 
 The interior of the building consists of a pronaos or portico opening to three chief 
 naves and two lateral ones provided with chapels. The most celebrated of these 
 chapels — the second to the right on entering — is that of the Senior de los Temblores, 
 or "Christ of Earthquakes." We shall have to speak of this more in detail when we come 
 to describe the religious fetes and processions of Cuzco. The few windows in the walls 
 of the edifice admit but a faint light into the interior. The heavy mass of the arches 
 which form the vaulted roof, and the pillars which support them, add still more to the 
 obscurity which the external atmosphere renders cold and forbidding. The only ray 
 which brightens and warms a little this darkness, the only inestimable jewel among all 
 the priceless jewels with which this melancholy basilica is enriched, is a picture of 
 Christ crucified, in the vestry, a splendid painting in the later style of Murillo. 
 
 Around the cathedral extends an atrium or court, bounded by a wall about the 
 height of a man, which is surmounted at regular distances by square pedestals with 
 pyramidal terminations. All along this Avail, as if to break the uniformity of its straight 
 line, a picturesque kind of bazaar has been extemporized, consisting of awnings and 
 great umbrellas, under which industrious traders of both sexes display to the gaze of the 
 passers-by the sordid finery and thick shoes, with six rows of nails, which are worn by 
 the governors and fashionable alcaldes of the villages of the Sierra. 
 
 According to a tradition which the dark-skinned and long-haired Nestors of the 
 country have spread among the people, there is a lake under the cathedral. This lake, 
 the water of which reposes in a profound calm all the year, swells up and beats against 
 the pavement of the choir with a hollow sound on the anniversary of the entry into 
 Cuzco of the Spanish conquerors (Nov. 13th, 1532). On that day of mourning for the 
 population of the old stock, it is no uncommon thing, when traversing the court, to 
 see a number of credulous souls kneeling in the dust, with their ears close to the 
 ground, endeavouring with the most serious air in the world to catch some murmur of 
 the enchanted water. 
 
 A church built of loam rammed into moulds 1 by Pizarro, the conqueror of Peru, 
 and consecrated by his chaplain, Vincent de Valverde, occupied during six-and-thirty 
 years the site of the cathedral. In 1572 the viceroy, Francisco Toledo, had this 
 wretched structure pulled down, and laid the foundations of a new edifice. A sum of 
 about £13,000 sterling was at first devoted to its construction. Fifty years then run 
 their course, and as the new church, like the famous web of Penelope, was always in 
 
 1 En pise, a well-known method of moulding clay or stiff earth for building purposes, by ramming it into moulds, 
 which are continually shifted as the work proceeds. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. l>45 
 
 course of erection yet never got erected, and as fresh sums of money were incessantly 
 voted for it, Philip IV. one day impatiently demanded if they meant to build it of solid 
 silver. The fame of the royal jeu d' esprit, after making the tour of Spain, reached 
 America, and though we cannot positively say that it stimulated the zeal of those 
 engaged in the work, it is certain that at the end of eighty-two years the cathedral 
 was finished. Its cost amounted to nearly three millions sterling, a thing that would 
 appear incredible, considering what a sorry edifice it is. 1 
 
 The church was consecrated on the 15th of August, 1654; but before this could be 
 done it was necessary to clear the approaches, blocked up by the accumulated rubbish 
 of labours which had extended over almost a century. All the canons, inspired by 
 holy zeal, applied themselves to the work, using rush-baskets to remove the earth, 
 stones, and rubbish, which had converted the holy place into a region of mountains and 
 valleys. 2 The example of the canons was followed by the corregidor, and by four 
 knights of the order of Calatrava; then the priests of the city and its environs arrived 
 in a crowd, followed by their curates; the monks of the four orders were equally ready 
 to lend a helping hand; the ladies of the city imitated the monks, and soon the entire 
 population joined the throng, and worked like one man, till, in the course of five days 
 and nights, the work was perfectly accomplished. 
 
 On the right of the cathedral, attached, in fact, to that edifice, stands the 
 chapel of " Triumph," which at first was nothing more than a house of clay, like the 
 first church of which it was the humble dependant. During an emeute excited by the 
 partisans of the Inca Manco, brother of Huascar, some Spaniards who had sought 
 refuge in that chapel, in consequence of the city having been fired at several points by 
 the Indians, were miraculously preserved from the flames by the intercession of the 
 blessed Virgin. From this circumstance a chapel arose on the spot with a cupola of 
 stone, built in commemoration of the miracle. On its threshold, every anniversary of 
 the Assumption, the Indians of both sexes decorate an altar, before which they sing 
 and dance, eat and drink, and most devoutly make beasts of themselves, in honour of 
 what they are pleased to call Jesu mamachay — the dear mother of Jesus. 
 
 From the year 1538 — in which Father Vincent de Valverde, whose character would 
 have shamed a hangman, was nominated second bishop 3 of the thatched building, which 
 had been elevated to the rank of an episcopal church by a bull of Paul III. in 1537 — to 
 the year 1843, when Don Eugenio Mendoza y Jara was appointed to the bishopric by 
 his holiness Gregory XVI., twenty-eight bishops, inclusive of the last-named, have suc- 
 ceeded to the spiritual government of Cuzco. 
 
 » 
 
 1 Spanish authors have commented on the fifty years of labour devoted to the fortress of Sacsahuaman, but none of 
 them mention the eighty-two years employed in the construction of the cathedral, or they simply indicate the fact by giving 
 the two dates. Let us add that such figures, which anywhere else than in Peru would be very significant, here prove one 
 thing only — that the Indian of the southern continent is naturally of so supine a disposition, that whatever he does occu- 
 pies him twenty times as long as it would anybody else. 
 
 2 Alturas empinadas y hondos valles, says the manuscript of Doctor Carrascon, from which I have borrowed these 
 details. 
 
 3 The first Bishop of Cuzco was Don Fernando de Luquey Olivera. Father Vincent de Valverde did not enjoy his 
 bishopric louger than three years. He was assassinated or killed— we do not know the exact facts — by the Indians of the 
 province of Quispicauchi. 
 
246 
 
 PERU. 
 
 On the right of the Great Square, of which the cathedral occupies the south-east 
 side, stands the church built by the Jesuits on the site formerly occupied by the palace 
 of the Inca Capac Yupanqui and the menagerie of serpents annexed to it. This 
 
 CHURCH OF THE JESUITS AT CUZCO. 
 
 church, constructed of a carboniferous sandstone, is by no means of an ignoble aspect, 
 notwithstanding the bad taste (Hispano-Lusitanian) of the sculptures of its facade, the 
 odd details of which have nevertheless been treated with great care. After the expul- 
 sion of the Jesuits, the church was closed until 182-i, when the patriots, on their 
 return from Ayacucho, broke open its gates in the name of Holy Liberty, and trans- 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 247 
 
 formed it into a guard-house. After the proclamation of independence it was again 
 closed, and remained so, until one day the idea having occurred to me to borrow the 
 keys of the sous-prefet of Cuzco, Don Jose Gregorio Llanos, we had it opened, to the 
 astonishment of several indigenes who happened to be crossing the square, and who used 
 their utmost speed to enter with us. Our attendant disappointed them by cleverly 
 shutting the small door in the grand entrance gates, and so baulked their curiosity. 
 
 This church, of which the inhabitants of the city know very little beyond the 
 exterior, has only one nave, the simple semicircular vault of which rests upon an 
 entablature supported by fluted pilasters of the Composite order. At the entrance 
 a large gallery, supported by square pillars, forms a kind of vestibule or pronaos to 
 the edifice. No chapel interrupts the grand lines of the nave, which is continued in 
 its majestic severity as far as the rounded chancel, which is separated from the nave 
 by a stone balustrade. The church was completely destitute of any object belonging 
 to worship; its only altar had disappeared; no picture, no cross, no votive offering 
 hung on its walls, the stone of which, of a faded pink colour, was remarkably clean. 
 
 While walking up and down over the great stones of the pavement, our steps 
 awaking a hollow echo, we picked up some fragments of sculpture, which had 
 belonged to a pulpit, the position of which was indicated by the iron cramps still 
 visible in the wall on the right. Among these fragments was the winged head of 
 an angel, the size of one's fist, remarkable for its charming expression and for a 
 delicacy of execution which did honour to the chisel of the indigenous Berruguete 
 Avho had sculptured it. 
 
 In the gallery, to which we ascended by a stone staircase protected by a balus- 
 trade of carved wood of beautiful workmanship, the organ still displayed its battery 
 of various sized tubes, but all in disorder, leaning the one upon the other like the 
 trees of a forest in a high wind. The keys were disjointed, worms had eaten the 
 leather of the hammers, and huge spiders' webs enveloped, as in a winding-sheet, 
 this poor harmonious body from which the soul had fled. 
 
 In front of the balustrade which separated the chancel from the nave gaped an 
 opening some four feet square, looking down which we could see only the first few 
 steps of a staircase, the rest being lost in darkness. Followed by the Indian with 
 the keys, who was visibly impressed by this empty church and dark hole, I descended. 
 Some twenty steps led us into the crypt of the church, which was divided into little 
 square cells, the walls of which were as clean as if they had been recently washed. 
 These cells had formerly served as vaults for the dead. Some open and empty coffins 
 still remained, and the form of the corpses was marked on the bottom plank by a 
 silhouette of a sepia colour. Some fragments of the grave-clothes made of the cotton 
 of the country (tocuyd) were hanging to the nails of the coffins. At night, by the light 
 of a torch, this spectacle must have been a very cheerful one! But it was mid-day. 
 The crypt was filled with the pleasant summer air, and the sun peeped in at the barred 
 windows, through which might be seen a mallow in bloom gracefully bending before 
 a gentle breeze, so that the gloomy details, which I realized one by one, only awoke 
 in me a sentiment of quiet melancholy. It was otherwise with my companion, who, 
 
248 PERU. 
 
 on regaining the street, assured me that the sight of these coffins and their odour of 
 human rottenness had made him so sick at heart that he felt it necessary to get a drink 
 of brandy at a place he knew of. I approved the idea, and giving him two reals, 
 charged him to present my thanks to his master. 
 
 After the church of the Jesuits come the churches of St. Augustine and the Almu- 
 dena, both elegantly constructed, and both unused for worship, which implies a certain 
 amount of indifference in matters of religion among the present inhabitants of Cuzco. 
 Though without priests and altars, these two churches, however, are not left to entire 
 solitude. Positivism, while despoiling them of their sacred prestige, has known how to 
 profit by the advantages which they had to offer. A college, with all its furniture of 
 benches, tables, and desks, is installed in the first, and is well accommodated there. 
 The second has been converted into an hospital for poor women by a society of philan- 
 thropists whose benevolent intention cannot be too highly praised, though it is impos- 
 sible to speak so approvingly of the manner in which they sold their original building by 
 auction, and divided the price among themselves. 
 
 This architectural review of the churches of Cuzco naturally leads me to speak of 
 the clergy who conduct the services in them, chanting the praises of God in a Latin to 
 which the use of the Quichua idiom has given a drawling accent and a guttural pronun- 
 ciation extremely offensive to the lovers of euphony. 
 
 These respectable priests, men of the world in their manners, and jovial fellows in 
 conversation, besides the general information they possess, are generally masters of some 
 special science to which they have taken a fancy and acquired as they could from com- 
 pilations and other books which have by accident fallen into their hands. Each has 
 selected, according to circumstances or the bent of his mind, geography, physics, 
 chemistry, or the higher mathematics. The science which they publicly profess is con- 
 tained substantially in the form of questions and answers in a manual which has been 
 edited with great care, and which their pupils, whose ages range from sixteen to twenty- 
 four, are expected to learn by heart after having written it out under their dictation. 
 Such of the priests as do not pretend to any special science content themselves with the 
 profession of scholastic theology, canonic theology, or mystic theology — three sciences 
 comprised in the programme of a liberal education at Cuzco. 
 
 The costume of these indigenous canons and priests is not unlike that of the 
 Spanish clergy, minus the quality of their lace ruffles, and }?his the golden links by which 
 they are fastened to their wrists, and the huge umbrella of red tafeta — an indispensable 
 addition to the ecclesiastical toilet in the country of the Incas. 
 
 The manners of the clergy of Cuzco are sweet and agreeable, recalling somewhat 
 those of the biblical times and the patriarchal ages. Most of them have a niece, whose 
 mother fills the office of governess (ama de Haves) in the house, but whom the priest, 
 in deference to the convenances of society, never calls his sister. It may be they receive 
 an orphan or a poor young widow, whose children they adopt, into the house. These 
 pious works of the good priests of Cuzco are dictated by the real love of their neighbour, 
 by the dread of isolation, and the need inherent in fine natures of being surrounded by 
 affectionate hearts. Their solicitude for such dependants on their bounty is most 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 249 
 
 paternal and tender; not only do they .share with them whatever they possess and supply 
 all their wants, but, on occasion, they do not hesitate to make sacrifices to provide them 
 with superfluities. Has a merchant received from the Pacific coast some novelty or 
 article of fashion, the good priest loses no time in informing his adopted family of the 
 
 ^^Pfe^' 
 
 AN INDIGENOUS PRIEST AND COLLEGIAN. 
 
 fact, and arranging for a visit to the shop. On arriving there the reverend father enters 
 alone to examine the goods and to discuss their price, the widow and her children 
 standing aside. It sometimes happens that the worthy ecclesiastic, unable to decide 
 between two articles, or doubtful about different prices, beckons to his protegee, who 
 advances timidly. 
 
 " Que le parece a U d ." — What is your opinion? he asks. 
 
 " I am always of the opinion of my senor padres the sly puss invariably replies, at 
 the same time pointing with her finger to the most expensive of the two articles. 
 
 32 
 
250 
 
 PERU. 
 
 At last the man of God makes his choice. He has the stuff cut off and made up 
 into a parcel; and putting it under his arm says graciously to the merchant, "I will 
 send you the money in a few minutes." These canonical minutes, however, almost always 
 extend to a year or eighteen months; they are sometimes eternal. 
 
 On arriving at home the good shepherd receives the warmest thanks of his flock 
 if the article bought by him is of superior quality; but if it leaves anything to be desired 
 
 AN ADOTTED FAMILY. 
 
 in this respect, a storm, which had been brewing all the way from the shop to the house, 
 breaks sharply over the patriarch's head, and the epithets sicatero (stingy), raton (rat), 
 and avariente (miser), are his reward. 
 
 The most perfect picture of this kind, and the most affecting example of these 
 domestic manners, is presented by the house of a canon, a friend of mine, a philosopher 
 by instinct, and by opportunity a professor of experimental physics. His study was 
 a loft lighted from the roof; an indefinable but poisonous odour exhaled from this 
 sanctuary of science, into which I never entered without holding a lemon to my nose. 
 No den in the dirtiest epiarters of Orleans, no marine store-shop, ever presented a more 
 confused heap of books, instruments, rags, and waste-paper; no dirty nook was ever so 
 covered with dust or interlaced with cobwebs. Our canonical friend, seated at a table, 
 occupies himself in working out his ideas on paper, and keeping them bright by repeated 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 251 
 
 draughts of Carlon wine. If his hands stay, it is only to notice, with a smile, the three 
 young monkeys — his adopted children — who are screaming and tumbling over each other 
 on a mat, By a caprice worthy of his philosophy our friend has given to these children, 
 whose mother, an Indian, is his cook, names taken from the vegetable kingdom; the 
 eldest is called Sapallo (melon), the next in age, a daughter, Zanahoria (carrot), the 
 youngest answers to the name of Apia (celery). The maternal amour propre of the 
 
 ONE OF THE AUTHOR'S FEIE"NDS.-A CANON OF CUZCO AND PROFESSOR OF EXPERIMENTAL PHYSICS. 
 
 Indian was a little shocked at first by these ridiculous names, but her master main- 
 tained his point by pretending, with or without reason, that the names of vegetables 
 were very proper for the children of a cook, and would recall happy memories of 
 the pot-au-feu. 
 
 Let us leave our friend to his experimental physics, his brimming wine-glass, and 
 his interesting family, and from the manners of the clergy and the architecture of the 
 churches, pass on to a description of the convents. 
 
 The exterior decoration of the convents of Cuzco is far from equalling that of its 
 churches. All these edifices are heavy parallelograms, the walls perfectly plain, roofed 
 with tiles, or crowned by cupolas, and entered by an arched door, over which is placed 
 the sign of salvation. This door leads into a little court inclosed within high walls, and 
 abutting on one of those dark and tortuous passages which Mrs. Eadcliffe loved to 
 
252 
 
 PERU. 
 
 depict in the old castles of her romances, or such as lead into the dungeons of the 
 Inquisition. One can hardly enter without feeling a little fear; but when, having groped 
 one's way for a few minutes, the interior cloister unexpectedly opens upon us full of 
 air and light, the disagreeable impression quickly vanishes. Imagine a vast court 
 surrounded with an arcade, the arches of which are supported by elegant pillars or 
 groups of columns extending in a charming perspective, and in the centre of this court, 
 which is formed into a garden, a granite fountain with three basins, one above the other, 
 from the summit of which springs a jet of Avater which falls from basin to basin as from 
 the urn of a naiad! Add to this the fine masses of daturas, cherries, and myrtles, and 
 
 INTERIOR OF THE CONVENT OF MERC! AT CUZOO. 
 
 the baskets of flowers symmetrically arranged, all mingling their living foliage with the 
 sculptured leafage of the architecture. A profound peace, an ineffable calm, pervades 
 the scene. A complete solitude is around him who muses in its pleasant shades. Xo 
 discordant noise offends his ear; the murmuring of water, the sighing of the wind, the 
 twittering of a bird in the branches, are the only sounds which break the silence. 
 Never was a safer asylum, a more retired and mysterious i*etreat offered to the poet, 
 the artist, or the dreamer, to develop his theme or nurse his fancies. For these Edens 
 of Cuzco, hidden within four walls, it only requires a few degrees more of temperature 
 to make them worthy of being compared with the true Paradise. 
 
 The convent of Mercy is a marvel of the kind. If the elegance of its cloister, the 
 beautiful proportions of its arches, and the monumental staircase which leads to the first 
 story, are worthy of the admiration of the curious and of connoisseurs in art, its gardens, 
 its waters, its pleasant shades, offer to the meditative mind the most charming of 
 alamedas. 
 
 This beautiful convent, the prior of which was a friend of mine, has no corner 
 with which I am not acquainted. I know the exact number of pillars in its galleries, 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 2X 
 
 and every kind of vegetable that grows in its garden-beds. One of my pleasures during 
 the short summers of Cuzco was to mount after dinner to the platform of its steeple, 
 and lean my back against the cupola, to enjoy the unspeakable pleasure imparted by 
 the heated masonry. Wrapped in my cloak, and smoking a cigar, my eye wandered 
 leisurely over the city, and indiscreetly penetrated the neighbouring houses and courts. 
 In particular, the monastery of Santa Clara attracted my attention by the arrange- 
 ment of its cells, and its prettily laid out garden, diapered with charming though com- 
 mon flowers. From the height of my observatory I could see the nuns come and go, 
 and at their various occupations, utterly unconscious that a profane intruder, a crea- 
 
 
 THE AUTHOR'S OBSERVATORY. 
 
 ture of the abhorred sex, had his eyes fixed upon them, and missed no detail of their 
 pantomime. 
 
 One afternoon in particular I was at my post watching, for the hundredth time, the 
 convent garden, when chance made me the witness of a strange scene. I speak of it 
 here for two reasons; first, because a traveller, being under an obligation to see every- 
 thing, if not to know everything, has some sort of right to say everything; secondly, 
 because the episode in question relates to the manners of the country and explains 
 certain customs. I say then I was looking into the garden of Santa Clara when one of 
 the nuns left her cell and placed herself opposite a neighbouring one. She had a guitar, 
 which she played as an accompaniment to a copla, a yaravi, or some kind of song. At 
 the distance at which I was — about 150 yards — I could not hear either the air or the 
 words, but the languishing pose of the performer, her head thrown back, her eyes raised 
 to heaven, plainly indicated that her song was one of the tenderest kind, and her music 
 suitable to it. 
 
 As she was thus occupied, the door of a cell on the right suddenly opened, and 
 a nun rushed out, her arms extended, and her vail streaming in the wind. Running to 
 
254 
 
 PERU. 
 
 the performer, she snatched the guitar from her hands, and broke it over her head. 
 Then seizing her in her vigorous grasp, and bending her like a reed, she inflicted on her 
 that sort of chastisement with which it is not uncommon to threaten naughty children, 
 •while there flashed before my eyes a flutter of colours, blue, yellow, red, and green, as 
 when one turns up the leaves of a "Civil Code" (or a "London Post-office Directory") 
 with their variously-coloured edges. 1 The cries of the unfortunate brought out several 
 of her companions, with the abbess at their head, and not without trouble three of the 
 nuns released her from her assailant. What followed I do not know. 
 
 GARDEN OP THE CONVENT OP SANTA CLARA AT CCZCO. 
 
 Iii the evening I related this occurrence to some ladies of the city, and asked for an 
 explanation. They replied, with a smile, that the nun had probably been beaten for 
 serenading the beloved friend of one of her companions, precisely as in Spain a gallant 
 would punish the rival who should dare to twang a guitar under the windows of his 
 lady-love I 
 
 Let us return to the convents of the men and their architecture. 
 
 Next to the convent of Mercy, the most beautiful of all, the foundation of which 
 dates from 1537, comes that of Santo Domingo, which dates from 1534, and was 
 
 1 Under the parallel of Cuzeo, the enaguas, or petticoats worn by the fair sex, are always of woollen stuff, and of the 
 most brilliant dyes. The colours a la mode are deep scarlet, sky-blue, bright red, apple-green, and yellow. 
 
ACOPIA TO OUZCO. 
 
 255 
 
 founded by the four Dominican monks, Valverde, Pedraza, San Martin, and Oliaz, who 
 accompanied Francisco Pizarro to Cuzco. This convent is built on the site occupied by 
 the temple of the Sun and its dependencies in the time of the Incas. Some remains of 
 
 THE CHURCH OP MERCY AT CDZCO. 
 
 the walls of the older edifice, built of a porphyroid trachyte, of a dull gray colour, are 
 included in the modern construction, and enable the archaeologist to study the old 
 material and workmanship. The convent garden is bounded on the north by the 
 remains of an ancient wall, semicircular in form, and the only one of the kind belonging 
 to the epoch of the Incas that we have discovered. The position of this wall corre- 
 

 256 
 
 PERU. 
 
 sponds to the place where the colossal image of Inti-Churi, placed on an altar of black 
 porphyry, was exposed to the adoration of the faithful. Beal flowers and vegetables 
 now grow in the garden once planted with flowers and grasses of gold, if one may credit 
 the marvellous descriptions given by the historiographers of the Conquest. That 
 garden, or rather that golden inclosure (ccoricancha), though deprived of its treasures, 
 has given its name to the quarter. 
 
 The convent of San Francisco, founded in 1535, in the quarter of Toccocachi, 
 a dependency of the parish of San Cristoval, was transferred in 1538 into the quarter of 
 
 A. Temple of the Sun, now the 
 
 church and convent of Santo 
 Domingo. 
 
 B. JB. B. B. Quadrangular cloister. 
 
 C. C. C. Outer court of the temple, 
 
 with its side walls. 
 
 1 ). D. D. D. D. Fountaiu and la vers 
 for purification. 
 
 E. E. E. E. Ancient streets leading 
 
 from the outer court of the 
 temple to the Great Square 
 of Cuzco, now the streets of 
 St. Augustiu, the Prison, the 
 Lower Brook, and the Corner 
 (Recoin). 
 
 F. Ccoricancha, or golden garden 
 
 of the Incas, now the resid- 
 ence and kitchen -garden of 
 the canon Justo Apu Bamo 
 de Sahuaraura. 
 
 wk 
 
 r L H 
 
 L 
 
 X 
 
 I. 
 
 a > * * » .a * 
 » t* » *ir-* * * 
 * ■•£ * ok f js ft jfc 
 
 * J. * 
 
 B 
 
 - 
 
 G. Chapel dedicated to the moon 
 — QuiUa. 
 
 H. Chapel dedicated to Venus 
 and the Milky Way — Coyliur 
 chascca y Catachillay. 
 
 T. Chape] dedicated to Thunder 
 and Lightning — Illapantac. 
 
 J. Chapel dedicated to the Bain- 
 bow — Ckuycki. 
 
 K. Council-hall of the llaillacumu, 
 or grand pontiff, and priests 
 of the Sun. 
 
 L. L. L. L. L. L. L. L. L. L. L. L. L. L. 
 Apartments of the priests and 
 servants attached to the wor- 
 ship of the Sun. 
 
 GROUND-PLAN" OF THE TEMPLE OF THE SUN, AS DETERMINED BT THE EXISTING REMAINS, THE PRINTED 
 TEXTS, AND TUE MANUSCRIPT CHRONICLES PRESERVED IN THE CONVENTS OF CUZCO. 
 
 Casana, nearly opposite the College of Sciences. In 1549 it was definitively established 
 at the corner of the place which it still occupies, and to which it has given its name. 
 In this place every Saturday, from mid-day to six o'clock, a market is held (called the 
 market of Baratillo), where connoisseurs in such things, of both sexes, go to buy old 
 clothes, old lace, old hats, and old shoes. 
 
 The existing convent of San Francisco presents nothing exteriorly to the lovers of 
 architectonic art but an agglomeration of square basements, surmounted by a square 
 tower. In the interior there are courts, gardens, and long arcades, the arches of which 
 are supported by groups of columns, and the walls decorated with great frescoes, in 
 which are portrayed St, Francis of Assisi in every possible position and action of his 
 pious existence. The only remarkable thing about these frescoes is their naive piety. 
 In an artistic point of view, as to composition, design, and colour, they are mere memo- 
 randa, and give occasion to strange misunderstandings and curious perversions of the 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 257 
 
 artist's meaning. Notwithstanding, in these crusted daubs, exposed to the external air, 
 and growing paler each returning spring, like consumptive girls, one is sensible of a faith 
 so fervent, and, in the artist who painted them, an intention so manifest to honour the 
 patron of the place, in order to secure his intercession at the throne of mercy, that the 
 severest critic, though his heart may be steeled against emotion, must needs drop his 
 pen in spite of himself. 
 
 After the monasteries, let us speak of the monks. 
 
 In Cnzco, as in the cities of the Littoral, the monk enjoys the consideration of all 
 classes. The high functionaries clap him on the back in the friendliest manner, mer- 
 chants and citizens shake hands with him heartily, the women smile on him and trust 
 their consciences to his keeping, while the children climb his knees, and fearlessly play 
 with the tassels of his cloak-string. The freedom of action which this pious personage 
 enjoys at Cuzco is unbounded. We rarely find him in his cell, but, on the other hand, 
 we meet with him everywhere else, and at all hours; advising with one on the most 
 serious matters, discussing with another the most trivial affairs; speaking to every one 
 in the language proper to him ; moved by his temperament as well as his education to 
 make light of the troubles of the world; freely seasoning his pleasantries to the taste of 
 his auditors; preferring the wines of France to the water of the country, and the exact 
 word to the periphrasis; bearing with his neighbours' little defects, excusing all his 
 weaknesses, veiling with a mantle of charity the peccadilloes of the fair sex, always 
 ready as a citizen to blame in public the acts of the government, and as an ecclesiastic 
 to censure in secret the doings of the bishop — such is the monk of Cuzco. 
 
 Most of these monks quit the convent after the morning office, and do not return 
 until nine o'clock at night. How do they employ the day? That is just what no one 
 has ever known. Desirous of learning something about this constant truant-playing, 
 which seemed to me at the least very strange, I questioned the prior of a convent who 
 had often been my vis-ci-vls at little family dances: 
 
 "Why do all your monks leave the convent every day?" I asked. 
 
 "To seek their pasture," he replied, laughing. 
 
 And as I insisted on knowing what kind of pasture he meant, the worthy prior 
 added, with a wink, 
 
 "Are they not men like yourself?" 
 
 I was obliged to content myself with this ambiguous answer. 
 
 At Cuzco the monastic state does not entail upon the novitiate any of those rough 
 trials of his constancy which mortify the body and weary the spirit. It is along roads 
 clad with soft herbage, and paths sown with flowers, that these novices reach the period 
 when they must pronounce their vows, and seriously commence their vocation. How 
 often in our walks, through town and country, have we not seen through the half-open 
 dour of a chicheria a merry swarm of these monigotes (lay brothers of religious orders)' 
 roaring their bacchanal songs, drinking their brimming glasses, or dancing the waicito 
 and the moza inula with all the abandonment of their age ! 
 
 The priors of the convents of Cuzco have made it a rule to tolerate among the 
 novices of their order these honest pastimes, of which religion, as they profess it, 
 
 vol. I. 33 
 
258 
 
 PERU. 
 
 does not disapprove. They pretend to know by experience that human nature has 
 need of a safety-valve to let off its surplus steam, without which precaution the 
 machine might be blown up. These priors are, generally speaking, men trained to 
 the battle of life, and tempered like fine steel in the furnace of the passions. All 
 have been, or are still, exposed to the temptations of the evil one. If the most part 
 succumb without showing fight, it is because they are persuaded beforehand that all 
 resistance on their part would be useless, God, they say, not having gifted man 
 and the demon with equal power. 
 
 MONKS OF OOZOO — THE FOOB ORDERS. 
 
 One of them, already advanced during his lifetime to canonization, who was well 
 known to me, but whom I will not name for fear of shocking his modesty, has been 
 the victim of one of those terrible passions which upset society, and which, let us 
 charitably hope, may at last tend to their greater perfection in righteousness. That 
 passion had been to the prior of whom I speak the source of a thousand evils, and 
 at the same time an occasion of the most foolish extravagancies. After having de- 
 voured the savings of the community, and hypothecated the lands of the convent, he 
 had, say his enemies — which of us, alas! has not enemies? — sold to a goldsmith of 
 the Calle del Plateros a statue of the archangel Michael, as large as life, and of solid 
 silver, which for two centuries had adorned a certain chapel, where it had been the 
 pride of the community and the admiration of the faithful. The devout public. 
 made a stir about this affair, and the bishop was arranging to open an inquiry, when 
 lo! the image which it was said had been sold and melted into ingots was found one 
 fine morning in its old niche. The prior was raised to the skies. In vain his enemies 
 asserted that a collection made for the purpose among the ladies had enabled him to 
 buy the image back again. The common sense of the public did justice to that 
 calumny, and the prior's reputation for sanctity was suddenly increased a hundredfold. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 259 
 
 If the monks of Cnzco have neither the softened manners nor the mellifluous 
 tones acquired by familiarity with the world, nor that ordinary niceness of person 
 which St. Augustine calls a virtue, and which their religious brethren of Arequipa 
 carry to excess, they substitute for these virtues a roundness of manners, a frankness 
 of language, and a keen appreciation of men and things, which puts the stranger 
 who is near them at his ease. Among the monks of Arequipa the form is more than 
 the substance; among those of Cuzco the substance predominates over the form. 
 
 The parallel we have drawn between the convents of men in the two cities may 
 be extended, with some modifications, to their communities of women. Less bounti- 
 fully gifted by nature and education than the nuns of Arequipa, those of Cuzco have 
 none of those pleasant links with the outside world which the former have established 
 by means of little presents and sweets. Like the Virgins of the Sun, to whom they 
 are related by family ties, the nuns of Cuzco live chastely within the shadow of their 
 cold walls, and though, following the example of their sisters beyond the Cordillera, 
 they sometimes make for sale creams, fritters, and other dainties, they never invite, 
 as the nuns of Arequipa do, their neighbours and friends to come and partake of such 
 tilings with them. 
 
 These moral and physical differences between the communities of Cuzco and Are- 
 quipa seem to be resolvable into questions of altitude, of climate, and of race. Are- 
 quipa, situated in a pleasant green valley, enjoys a mild temperature, and an almost 
 always serene sky. Its proximity to the coast of the Pacific, and its daily relations 
 with strangers during a period of three centuries, have caused a mixture of races, 
 and substituted for the pure Indian blood, in the elite of its population, much of 
 Spanish, English, German, French, and Italian origin. Cuzco, owing to its geogra- 
 phical situation, has enjoyed none of these advantages. Situated 300 miles from the 
 sea, and 12,558 feet above its level, surrounded with barren mountains, saddened by 
 a cold climate and a clouded sky, its population has only had passing relations with 
 the civilized world, and has preserved almost intact its primitive manners, as well as 
 its peculiar idiom and the colour of its skin. 
 
 We would willingly have developed at greater length this comparison between Are- 
 quipa and Cuzco, but our minutes are counted, and the reader must undertake that task 
 for himself. We will only add, that from the geographical and climatological differences 
 between the two cities there results a sentiment of mutually hostile sharpness in their 
 populations. The citizens, small and great, of the Littoral provinces, like the religious 
 bodies, call the inhabitants of the Sierra Indios piojosos (lousy Indians) ; while the latter 
 on their side stigmatize the coast inhabitants as Yxiracuy (white rabbits) and Masamo-. 
 reros (lickers of cream). 
 
 Notwithstanding the severe seclusion of the nuns of Cuzco, and their superiority to 
 the opinion of the world, calumny has not scruple 1 to whisper the accusations which 
 seem so natural to the carnal mind, and to tarnish with its unclean breath these 
 mirrors of purity. The nuns of St. Catherine have been the especial butt of the 
 arrows of the wicked. It is curious that the site of their convent was formerly 
 occupied by the Accllhuaci or House of the Virgins consecrated to the worship of 
 
•200 
 
 PERU. 
 
 Helios-Chuii. Tliey are new subjected, however, to the severity of the laws made by 
 Sinchiroca in the twelfth century. Christianity has much softened the lot of these 
 vestals. Instead of being put to death, the nun who has forgotten her vows — and some 
 instances of the kind are on record — is simply but severely whipped by two of her 
 companions, and deprived of her chocolate for breakfast during a year. As for her 
 accomplice, he may be censured by public opinion, but the law does not reach him. 
 
 The earthquake of 1G50, one of the most violent on record — like that of 1590, which 
 was felt at Cuzco, where it overthrew 100 houses — destroyed a portion of the convent 
 
 BEGDINE OF CUZCO. 
 
 of St. Catherine, built in 1599. Dispossessed of their abode, the nuns found an asylum 
 in the house of a chevalier situated in the Calle del Cuichipuncu. On the 17th of 
 December, 1651, after vespers, the first stone of the present monastery was solemnly 
 laid. The Bishop of Cuzco, surrounded by the clergy, the religious communities, and 
 a vast number of the population, deposited under this stone some pieces of golden coin 
 stamped with the effigy of Philip IV., a ring, and a tooth-pick. The money, it is 
 naively stated, in a long inscription engraved upon a leaden plate which was placed 
 under the stone along with the objects, was meant to typify the spiritual riches which 
 the soul acquires by prayer and by renouncing the pleasures of the world; the ring 
 betokened the mystic espousal of the virgins to their heavenly Bridegroom; the tooth- 
 pick alone was apparently meaningless. We have vainly tried to fathom this little 
 mystery. Was this tooth-pick an advertisement of some kind? Was it a symbol? 
 If a symbol, did it refer to the soul or the body? What was its signification? Was 
 it a token of cleanliness? Here is a fine opportunity for those who are fond of rebuses 
 and charades to find the solution of a puzzling enigma. 
 
 The nunneries of Cuzco have nothing to say to questions of art. Those of St. 
 Catherine and Santa Clara are plain square edifices, dating back to 10.31 and 1558. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 261 
 
 As to the biguinages, of still humbler pretensions, they all date from the middle of the 
 eighteenth century. The beguines of various orders who reside in them form a distinct 
 type among the population of the city. Clothed in black, white, blue, or gray, ac- 
 cording to the order to which they belong, a leathern belt round their waists, from 
 which is suspended a string of beads, a crucifix, and a number of medals and death's- 
 heads, which make a melancholy rattling as they walk, these beguines — old, brown, 
 bony, and sullen for the most part — are intermediary between the world and the 
 cloister. As they have the privilege of going out at all hours, and are received every- 
 where, they circulate, in private houses and monasteries alike, all the small talk and 
 scandal they can collect in the course of their peregrinations: some of them, like the 
 Spanish duenna of the olden time, serve as letter-carriers and links of communication 
 between unhappy and persecuted lovers ; others make a secret trade of love, and offer 
 to sell at a high price that which is elsewhere given away. 
 
 If from the architecture of the churches and convents of Cuzco we pass to that of 
 its houses, we shall observe that the majority of them have for their basements old 
 walls of the time of the Incas, the more easy to recognize, as they are never coloured or 
 whitewashed, whilst the rest of the house is always daubed over with lime or some gay 
 coloured wash. This speciality dates from the time of Pizarro, who, to economize time 
 and workmanship, contented himself with discrowning the old edifices, and erecting new 
 stories upon the old basements. Thanks to this circumstance — a happy one for archae- 
 ologists — the city is only transformed, as it were, to the middle of the body, the upper 
 half being catholic and modern, the lower heathen and antkpie. 
 
 The style of these dwellings is, with some slight differences, that of all the houses 
 built in America by Spanish constructors and the masons of their school. It is mono- 
 tonous, heavy, and freezingly cold. The enormous square mass which forms the build- 
 ing has a door like a tomb, studded with nails. This door opens into a court paved like 
 a street; a staircase in one of the walls leads to the first story, which has an internal 
 gallery of wood or stone. From this gallery open the sleeping and reception chambers, 
 the folding-doors of which, in place of any kind of glass, have only a grated judas, or 
 a little sliding shutter (chattieve). An exterior balcony, shaped like a long Avooden 
 box, is supported by projecting timbers, and is apparently quite closed, but lozenge or 
 heart shaped openings enable the inmates to see what is going on in the streets without 
 being seen. 
 
 Some decorate the sides of the entrance court with granite vases called mazetas, 
 in which a vivacious thlaspi, rue, or yuerba buena {Mentha viridis — spear-mint) may 
 be languishing out its days ; others have a garden peopled with green myrtles like those 
 of ancient Idalia mentioned by Voltaire in his Henrlade. These unhappy shrubs are 
 tortured by the local gardeners into the shape of men and animals, of ramrods and 
 distaffs, butterflies and cauliflowers. A few clumps of dahlias, asters, gilliflowers, and 
 red and white carnations, make agreeable breaks in these fantastic masses of verdure. 
 
 The furniture of the houses, as in those of Arequipa, is of two kinds and two epochs. 
 Families faithful to ancient tradition have preserved articles of Spanish manufacture 
 made and carved out of the solid wood, painted in bright colours, which are heightened 
 
202 
 
 PERU. 
 
 in effect by fillets of burnished gold and a pattern of roses or tulips. The houses which 
 sacrifice to modern taste and pique themselves on elegance are furnished in the Graeco- 
 Parisian style of 1804. Both classes of dwellings have their windows protected with iron 
 bars, and seldom have any curtains. Instead of a floor the ground has a coating of 
 argamaza, a kind of cement, and is thickly carpeted as a protection against the cold. 
 A gray-coloured paper or a painting in impasto decorates the Avails of the aristo- 
 cratic drawing-rooms. Upon the tables or consoles, over which are octagonal mirrors 
 in steel frames, are displayed specimens of Peruvian bric-a-brac, consisting of statuettes 
 of Incas and Coyas (empresses) found at Huamanga, and vases of painted earthenware, 
 more or less cracked, of a date anterior to the Conquest, Oil-paintings by artists of 
 Cuzco and Quito once adorned the saloons of the old aristocracy, but political revolu- 
 tions have disfigured, burned, or sold these often remarkable canvases. Deprived of the 
 
 . ''' 
 i 
 
 A LADY OF CUZCO. 
 
 gallery of pictures which had been their pride, some noble families of the city, among 
 whom a taste for art is hereditary, have tried to provide a substitute for them by 
 painting the wall of their staircase either with the colours and designs of their heraldic 
 honours, or with their genealogical tree, represented as a vine with tortuous branches. 
 This emblematic peerage, at the top of which is found Francisco Pizarro, extends from 
 the ground-floor to the first story, spreading along the walls its garlands of green vine- 
 leaves, from which hang like wall-grapes the heads of bearded Spaniards and native 
 women. One of these staircases, that of the late Countess Roza de Sanz y Traganabos 
 —a woman as remarkable for her small stature and beauty as for her exploits in the 
 wars of independence — has been for a long time the admiration of strangers. 
 
 The families of the doubtful nobility, or those which can only boast of a small 
 number of ancestors, being incapable of pretending to the honours of the emblematic 
 vine, console themselves with the possession of a piano of English or Chilian manu- 
 
ACOl'IA TO CUZCO. 
 
 •263 
 
 facture. This piano, provided with wax lights always fresh, and with Rodolph's exer- 
 cises on the scale always open, is placed in the most conspicuous part of the reception 
 
 A WOMAN OF TIIE LOWER RANKS OF CUZCO. 
 
 room. No one ever touches it, for reasons which it is easy to conceive, but the show 
 it makes is satisfactory to the amour propre of the family. It is at once a certificate of 
 
 A WOMAN OF THE LOWER RANKS OF CUZCO. 
 
 civilization and an attestation of taste and genteel manners. It is the mode to have 
 a piano, as in Paris to have an English service of silver from old Saxe, and furniture 
 from Boule. Every family happy enough to procure one of these instruments, though 
 
264 PERU. 
 
 it may be all askew and without strings, is raised to the level of the nobility, and keeps 
 with it the crown of the causeway. 
 
 Notwithstanding the almost constant lowness of the temperature of Cuzco, and the 
 storms of rain, hail, and snow which succeed each other so frequentty, that the neigh- 
 bouring cities say of that capital: Llueze 13 meses en mi i/no — it rains thirteen months in 
 the year — the use of chimneys, stoves, or braziers is unknown. The ladies wra]) them- 
 selves up as Avell as possible in their shawls or mantles, and the gentlemen in their great 
 cloaks. As for the Indians, both men and women, they wear woollen shirts and coats 
 
 , . 
 
 
 WOMAN OF THE ENVIKONS OF CUZCO. 
 
 or habits, to which the men add the llacolla, and the women the Micella — large and 
 small sized woollen mantles. To warm them more effectively, and set their blood in 
 more rapid motion, great and small, rich and poor, have, besides the wines and liquors 
 of Europe, the local chicha and rum from the hot valleys. Aided by these various 
 drinks, the consumption of which never ceases, they bear with but little inconvenience 
 the minimum of tenqierature to which they are exposed. 
 
 Under this inclement and almost always clouded sky it is conceivable that clean- 
 liness of body is not one of the virtues of the indigenes, and that their aversion to water 
 approaches the character of hydrophobia. People who mix in society, it is true, perform 
 some little ablutions once a Aveek; but Indians go from the cradle to the grave without 
 having felt for one moment the need of washing their face and hands. Generally they 
 take their rest without undressing, and in fact never renew their clothes until those 
 they have on are reduced to rags. A native woman puts on a new petticoat over her old 
 ragged one, and as she habitually wears three or four, it is credible that the first is at 
 least eight or ten years old. This fact sufficiently accounts for the parasites which infest 
 them, and for that sickly odour which so unpleasantly counterbalances, in the eyes of 
 the artist, the picturesque side of their nature. 
 
ACOPIA TO cuzeo. 
 
 265 
 
 From October to January the severity of the climate softens a little; a blue sky suc- 
 ceeds to the monotonous gray, and some rays of sunlight struggle to the ground, which 
 leaps for joy. The population hails with transport the advent of the luminary they 
 once adored. Society hastens to profit by the short summer. Processions are organ- 
 ized, and little journeys undertaken. Families flock to the valleys of Yucay and Uru- 
 bamba to eat the strawberry and peach {iinuebi), both accompanied by the always 
 indispensable liquor and the pleasant sounds of the flute and guitar. Others are satis- 
 lied with a daily trip to Huancaro, a hamlet just outside the city, where there is a large 
 bath, constructed of stone, in two divisions, and filled to the brim with pure cold water. 
 
 INDIAN OF CUZCO. 
 
 There, from noon to four o'clock, and for a small payment, both sexes, separated by a 
 partition, disport themselves at pleasure, and, their teeth chattering with cold, taste the 
 delights of a bath which are interdicted during the rest of the year. 
 
 We are now approaching an essentially delicate point in our review of modern Cuzco 
 — the monograph of those avIio everywhere constitute the ornaments of society. May 
 we not fail to satisfy at once the curiosity of the reader, and the amour x>ropre of a sex 
 to which, as Legouve says, Ave owe our mother! We are conscious of the difficulty of 
 the enterprise; it is like undertaking to navigate between two rocks, with the risk, in 
 avoiding Charybdis, of running upon Scylla. While satisfying the one, Ave may offend 
 the other. Nevertheless, the purity of our motives, and the uprightness of our inten- 
 tions, will justify us in our oavii eyes if, by chance, Ave founder before reaching the 
 shore. This premised, Ave hoist sail and dare the voyage. 
 
 The Avomen of Cuzco have generally broAvn skins, are of middle height, and some- 
 what full of figure. With them the Indian type of physique still predominates over the 
 Spanish, as the qualities and defects of the indigenous race crop out from under the 
 varnish of education Avhich covers them. Nevertheless, to remind a Avoman of Cuzco 
 of her incontestable origin Avould be to do her a mortal injury. The ambition of all 
 
 VOL. I. 34 
 
206 PERU. 
 
 is to prove that they are Andalusian from head to foot, and, if intimate enough, they 
 will show their shoe as an indisputable proof of their descent. The tiny shoe may, in 
 fact, remind one of the pretty Andalusian foot, and might serve for the slipper of Rho- 
 dope or Cinderella ; but as for birth, a shoe, however pretty it may be, proves very little. 
 More than one shepherdess has had the foot of a dwarf, and many a queen the foot of 
 a king. It is only women between the ages of eighteen and forty-five, hoAvever, who fly 
 to this argument of the shoe. Illusions vanish as women get older and miss the homage 
 of our ruder sex; thus the older women of Cuzco do not scruple to acknowledge their 
 origin in a very loud voice when occasion offers: "Somos Indicts, para que vegarlof — 
 We are Indians, what is the use of denying it 1" they say, laughing. An avowal of this 
 kind from the lips of these venerable ladies has always appeared to us, besides being 
 a homage rendered to holy truth, as a pin-prick meant for the younger women, and 
 a fashion, peculiarly feminine, of protesting against the isolation to which their wrinkles 
 and their gray hairs have consigned them. 
 
 These little weaknesses, common to the fair sex in all ages and countries, are amply 
 compensated among the Cusquenas, old and young, by many sweet and amiable quali- 
 ties, attentions, and gracious condescensions, which lend a charm to any intercourse with 
 them. Their monotonous life, barren of incidents, their distance from civilized points, 
 a certain difficulty which they find in speaking Spanish — as the women of Arequipa say 
 of them, they bungle (chapurean) — all these causes combine to impart to their manners 
 I know not what ingenuous timidity and modest gaacherie, which is quite charming in 
 itself, and which we should look for in vain among the women of the coast-towns. That 
 timidity before strangers whom they see for the first time — a timidity which becomes 
 fear among the lower class — seems to be the result of that unfriendly relationship which 
 formerly existed between the Indians and the conquerors, though it has been weakened 
 among the higher classes by reason of their alliances with the Spaniards. 
 
 Apart from the weekly visits of intimate friends, the women of Cuzco hardly go from 
 home at all, where some occupy themselves with needlework, others with the prepara- 
 tion of sherbets and sweetmeats, mixing with their various labours an)' amount of harm- 
 less gossip, for which the text is supplied by their chinas, cameristes, or chambermaids, 
 who collect their information out of doors. To assemble any number of the fair sex 
 nothing less will suffice than a grand fete, an official ball on Shrove Tuesday, the solemn 
 entry of a bishop, the installation of a new prefet, or the nomination of a president. 
 Except on these rare occasions, the women voluntarily seclude themselves, and keep 
 their doors shut. It is only the stranger who commands the watchword, and can visit 
 them freely at any hour of the day. But the stranger enjoys so many privileges among 
 the fair sex of Peru! He is that vara ark of which Juvenal speaks, to whom every 
 young lady presents some little delicacy upon a trap, of which she persuades him to eat 
 with sweet words, in the hope of snaring him and shutting him up in a cage. 
 
 Along with their natural timidity and grace, the women of Cuzco have preserved the 
 old national costume of the time of the viceroys, still .used at Lima, where it serves to 
 cover the amiable weaknesses of the sex rather than the woman herself: but this cos- 
 tume, which is gradually disappearing from the capital of the Pacific, to the delight of 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 2o: 
 
 the unhappy husbands whose torment it has been for these two centuries, is far from 
 being worn by the women of Cuzco in the no-fashion and desinvoltura of the fair Lima- 
 nians. Its picturesque character in the City of the Kings degenerates to the grotesque 
 in the City uf the Incas. A woman of Cuzco, muffled iqj in that folded tonnelet, short- 
 ened and fringed, called a saya angosta or a poUera apresiliada, resembles somewhat, 
 seen behind, a huge scarabams, to which, however, some one has added antenna;. 
 
 This garment, worn by the majority of the women of Cuzco — from those of the mer- 
 cantile class to the comfortable artisans' wives — is repudiated by the women of the aris- 
 
 CHAMBERMAIDS (c AM KRISTES) OF CDZCO. 
 
 tocracy, who dress themselves d la frangaise, but with modifications and additions in 
 the taste of the country. There still flourish in all their past splendour the tunics d la 
 grecque, the robes d la Vierge and a la Sevigne, the spencers and the scarfs as they were 
 worn by the fair Parisians in 1820. The long drooping feathers which made a woman's 
 head-dress appear like that of a herald-at-arms, and the tall indented combs d la giraffe, 
 which remind one of the tower-crowned Cybele, are also perpetuated with touching 
 fidelity. This respect for sumptuary traditions, which is common to the women of Cuzco, 
 and which for pretenders to their hand should be of good augury, as evincing their 
 singular constancy, is, however, destroyed or weakened by two strange customs. The 
 first, in honour with the women of the bourgeoisie, is that of washing their hair with 
 stagnant urine, and greasing it with mutton-fat in place of pomade. 1 The second of the 
 customs referred to consists in covering their faces Avith those ointments and cosmetic 
 plasters which were once used by the Assyrians and Medes, and which queen Jezebel 
 
 1 The ammonia contained in this liquid prevents, so say those that use it, the contraction and drying up of the root- 
 bulbs of the hair, and consequently the falling oft' of the hair. Whether true or not, it is remarkable that baldness is 
 unknown among these aborigines; on the contrary, they have luxuriant hair which they preserve perfectly black to ad- 
 vanced a^e. 
 
208 
 
 PERU. 
 
 employed with success, if we may believe the indiscreet revelation of her daughter Atha- 
 liah. Only, the ladies of Cuzco, instead of using it like the queen of Judah, 
 
 Pour lvparer des aus Hi-reparable outrage, 
 
 employ it simply to hide the colour of their skin, and to give them the fine rosy hue 
 of our buxom European lasses. Among these ladies there are some with natures 
 
 A LADY OF CUZCO GOING TO CHURCH. 
 
 superior to artifice, and who, disdaining the use of white-lead and vermilion — thinking 
 that well done that God has done — content themselves with varnishing their faces with 
 the white of egg, to which they add a few drops of eau-de-Cologne. This innocent 
 glaze, like certain cosmetics puffed by tradesmen, clears the complexion, softens the skin, 
 prevents wrinkles from appearing, and effaces or conceals the old ones — in short, gives to 
 the face the appearance of a freshly silvered looking-glass. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 209 
 
 As my readers, and above all my lady readers, may be surprised to see me so well 
 up in these little secrets of the toilet, -which they hardly acknowledge even to themselves, 
 and take great pains to conceal from others, I must confess, though neither a perfumer, 
 nor even a manufacturer of Macassar oil and pate d'amandes, that I have sometimes, in 
 amiable condescension to the weakness of the sex, left graver studies, to prepare with my 
 own hands, with such materials as flake-white, ochre, carmine, and some kind of essence, 
 a pomade, the fresh colour of which might rival that of the nymphs of Rubens. With 
 what bouquets of flowers, what sweet words and sweet smiles, to say nothing of boxes 
 of sweetmeats, have I not been repaid for this little condescension ! On the other hand, 
 what angry explosions have I not provoked, what abuse have I not received from the 
 
 mftm, 
 
 'M4 ' 
 
 
 A WOMAN OF C U Z C O — C [, A S 3 OF TRADESMEN. 
 
 woman to whom I have, par. ordre, refused a similar kindness, in order that she might 
 not compete with a rival, and have the chance of surpassing her in loveliness ! Sweet 
 memories — winged sylphs who have fluttered for a moment over this virgin page, urging 
 my pen till it bends and sputters, notwithstanding the hardness of its metallic nib — away 
 with you! vanish, never to return! Graver subjects claim our attention. After this 
 sweet soupgon of homage to the weaker sex, we have to speak of the fathers and hus- 
 bands, brothers and cousins, who constitute the stronger. 
 
 We cannot say that the Cusqueilos are graceful and retiring, like the women of the 
 country, but we can assure the reader they are touchy and mistrustful. In the measure 
 that the one, when the ice is once broken, show themselves sympathetic with the 
 stranger, the other manifest their repugnance to encourage similar relations with him. 
 That repugnance has a little the character of moroseness, and very much of pride in their 
 own attainments. The physical and moral superiority of the European offends their 
 vanity, and when it happens that they are compelled to recognize it in public, it is with 
 a reserve which betrays at once how much it costs them to do so. 
 
270 
 
 PERU. 
 
 Wanting the exterior advantages which distinguish the men of Arequipa, the Cus- 
 queiios endeavour to compensate the niggardliness of nature by the advantages of in- 
 struction. They are all ardent students of theology, philosophy, common-law, statute- 
 law, and the civil and ecclesiastical codes. The natural sciences, living and dead lan- 
 guages, the belles-lettres, and other esthetic studies, they regard as unworthy of a manly 
 education, and banish them from the programme of their studies, as the divine Plato 
 banished from his republic the makers of sonnets and dithyrambs. The effect of the 
 serious education they receive is to inci^ease the imposing gravity of their carriage. 
 A learned Cusqueiio, wrapped in his cloak, walks the street with the majesty of a doge 
 going to wed the Adriatic. The subtle definitions with which he has stuffed his brain 
 enable him to choose his career either in the magistracy or at the bar. Sometimes he 
 
 - 
 
 
 A LIONESS OP CUZCO. 
 
 devotes himself to instruction, but instances of this kind are rare. Generally he prefers 
 the rostrum to the professorial chair. He knows that the advocate has the world at his 
 foot, In Peru we have seen men who rival Cicero at the bar transformed at once into 
 generals of brigade, and, passing on to the rank of field-marshal, seat themselves at last 
 on the president's throne. Such examples of success account for the prodigious number 
 of barristers found in the old capital. It is true most of them die without pleading 
 a cause, the reason being that causes are as rare at Cuzco as the appearance of comets. 
 These barristers, however, console themselves by strumming the guitar, stringing quat- 
 rains, and agitating against the government, or perhaps in growing a few potatoes or 
 maize and lucerne in some kind of chacara. 
 
 The scientific establishments of Cuzco enjoy a well-deserved reputation in every part 
 of the Sierra comprised between the 15th and 18th degrees of latitude. Its university, 
 Abbas Beati Antonii, founded in 1592, has a chancellor, a rector, a vice-rector, a director of 
 the studies, a secretary, three professors, a treasurer, two mace-bearers, and a pongo, who 
 fills the office of porter. The subjects taught are theology, canon-law, and a little logic. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 271 
 
 The College of Sciences and Arts, founded or rather reconstituted in 1825 by Bolivar, 
 bore in the eighteenth century the name of San Francisco do Borja, which succeeded to 
 that of the College of the Sun. Simon Bolivar wished to make it a focus of light not 
 unworthy of the luminary under whose patronage it had been placed. But the smallness 
 
 Z K E B U S C H 
 
 A CUSQUENO SAVANT. 
 
 of the revenues devoted to the support of this college did not permit the liberator to 
 realize his vast designs. Nevertheless, the programme of the studies is sufficiently liberal 
 to satisfy the demands of the paterfamilias of Cuzco. Religion, the Castillian and Latin 
 tongues, philosophy and orthology, are all taught; and, in addition to these subjects, the 
 scholars receive parenthetical lessons in politeness and courtesy. 
 
 An institution for young girls, which bears the name of Las Educandas del Cuzco, is 
 renowned for fifty miles round. Every year the pupils sustain before an enthusiastic 
 public and delighted parents brilliant examinations on the catechism, arithmetic, and 
 
272 
 
 PERU. 
 
 dressmaking. The sum devoted by the government to this interesting school is £1000 
 sterling. To keep in remembrance the benefactor and the benefit received, the girls are 
 clothed in the Peruvian colours, consisting of a white frock and a scarlet cloak. 
 
 Printing, which has existed in China from time immemorial, and in Europe since the 
 
 PROFESSORS OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ABBAS BEATI ANTONII AT CUZCO. 
 
 middle of the fifteenth century, was not introduced into Cuzco till 1822. It is to the 
 viceroy La Serna that the City of the Sun is indebted for this advance. Driven from 
 Lima by the arrival of the patriot troops, La Serna fled to Cuzco, carrying with him 
 a flying press, by the aid of which he circulated on the Pacific coast and in the Sierra his 
 proclamations and manifestoes. When the royalists were beaten, La Serna fled precipi- 
 tately from Cuzco, leaving behind him his press, of which the Cusquenos possessed them- 
 selves by right of conquest. From 1824 to the present time that historic press has 
 printed, one after another, six octavo journals — the Sun, the Phantom, the Watchtower 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 273 
 
 {Atalaya) the Extractor, the Observer, the Guide, and Dr. Higinios' celebrated Castilian 
 and Latin grammar, in the form of question and answer, the questions printed in blue, 
 the answers in red ink. 
 
 If Ave say nothing of the library and the museum of Cuzco, it is from a sentiment of 
 propriety which every one will appreciate. There are misfortunes nobly borne which 
 one may inwardly pity, but which it would be indelicate to make public, especially when 
 the institutions or the persons who are the objects of them do their best to conceal the 
 facts. Let us mention only en passant some specimens of pottery dotted about the 
 museum, or the room which serves for one, a few bits of gold and silver ore, and two 
 horrible daubs on paper by M. Paul Marcoy, the writer of these lines, which represent 
 — the daubs, not the lines — two Siriniris Indians of the valley of Marcapata. 
 
 Besides its scientific establishments, Cuzco possesses a few useful and philanthropic 
 institutions, such as the Hospital of the Holy Spirit for men, and that of St. Andrew, of 
 which we have already spoken, for women. There is still a third, that of San Juan de 
 Dios de Urquilos ; but as it receives few sick (in which respect it resembles the two hos- 
 pitals just named, because the Indian, when he is ill, generally prefers to a bed in the 
 hospital a shakedown of straw and a rag to cover him in the dirty corner of a chicheria), 
 three monks and the prior of a mendicant order have taken possession of it, and there 
 get as fat as possible on the charity of the faithful and a daily income of something like 
 a shilling which the government allows to each. 
 
 Cuzco also boasts of a mint, a treasury, and a post-office. In the latter, on the 
 arrival of couriers from Lima, Puna, and Arequipa, which takes place every fortnight, 
 a list of names, stuck to the wall with four wafers, informs the citizens — postmen being 
 unknown at Cuzco — that a letter addressed to such and such a person lies in the office, 
 and will be delivered on the payment of three reals (two shillings) if it comes from Are- 
 quipa, and three reals and a half if from Lima. 
 
 The Alameda, or public promenade, the creation of which is due to General Jose 
 Miguel Medina, the gravest and most taciturn prefect we have ever known, is an ill-kept 
 kind of slums which every one is careful to avoid. Close by it is another place quite as 
 ill-conditioned and repulsive, where all the world, however, resorts. This is the Cemetery, 
 which dates from the same period as the Alameda. It is divided into compartments 
 apportioned to the several convents. The thick walls, with three rows of cells, are for 
 the public at large. The corpse is introduced head first into this sheath-like sepulchre, 
 separated from the living by a few bricks, hastily plastered up, and abandoned for ever 
 to its lonely tenement. 
 
 Theatres, circuses, and other places of recreation for mind and body, are utterly 
 unknown at Cuzco. Among the pleasures of society, the first place must be given to 
 what we should call "parties" or carpet-dances on a birth-day or other special occasion. 
 Only relations and intimate friends are admitted to this kind of reunion, which com- 
 mences with a ceremonial dinner, at which the guests drink pretty freely, and is kept up 
 by a succession of square dances d la francesa, during which they drink more freely 
 still, till it ends, when they have drunk too much, in a cadenced and frenzied ram- 
 page, in which all classes, ages, and sexes are mixed and confused. This rampage, called 
 
 vol. I. 35 
 
274 
 
 PERU. 
 
 the zapateo, from the verb zapatear (to strike with the shoe), is the final round of the 
 ball, the grand closing "flare-up." All the dancers exert themselves to the utmost, 
 scorning to break off till, from fatigue and breathlessness, their knees give way under 
 them. This local dance is reproduced in the following notation. Out of the five or 
 six movements of the zapateo which are ringing in our ears while we write, Ave have 
 seized upon this, as we would on a troublesome fly to get rid of its buzzing. 
 
 Prestissimo. 
 
 J-^J -^i 
 
 ^P= 
 
 iS^ES 
 
 *=i£* 
 
 ^=^=^ 
 
 z* 
 
 jp 
 
 **- 
 
 To these amusements of the family are allied other pleasures of a temperate kind, in 
 which music and a little brandy make all the cost. A dozen or fifteen persons meet in 
 an upper room. A man or woman distinguished in the company for a clear ringing 
 voice and for skill in lengthening out the notes, sits on a sofa, the place of honour, 
 and receives from the hands of the mistress of the house a guitar, decorated with a 
 cockade of blue or pink ribbon, like the shank of a dressed ham trimmed with a bit 
 of curled paper. While the musician is tuning the guitar, and practising all the little 
 fopperies which are the usual prelude to a musical morceau, the auditors are settling 
 themselves down, so as not to miss the slightest gesture of the singer, or the least 
 note or word of the paravi, which is the great air, I may say the only one, honoured 
 at these musical reunions. The first note and the first syllable escapes at last from the 
 throat of the performer; a profound and admiring silence — Milton would have called it 
 a ravished silence — hushes the company. One might suppose the angel of melody had 
 descended amongst them, and had inspired them with a feeling of rapt enthusiasm. 
 Their necks are stretched, and their eyes expanded. Every ear, every mouth is open, 
 as they seem to devour the singer with hungry looks, and to hang upon his lips in a 
 blessed rapture. Excited by the sympathy of his audience, the singer gives full swing- 
 to his powers; the timbre is more and more intensified; the burden of the air is 
 indefinitely prolonged, until, in a climacteric spasm of melody, he throws his head back 
 and only the whites of his eyes are seen. This innocent artifice of the performer and 
 immobility of pose in the audience may be sustained for an hour or more, according to the 
 number of cojilas in the yaravi. It is hardly necessary to state that after every couplet 
 the artiste and the guests alike refresh themselves with little glasses of eau-de-vie. 
 
 Thinking that some of my fair readers may have a fancy for trying over, upon a 
 modern piano, one of these ancient songs, the first conception of which dates from the 
 
 * Divested of all accidental notes, this tune and that on page 277 appear to be in the modes of the 2d and 4th 
 of the scale (Dorian and Lydian). These modes are quite common in Scottish music, and are characteristic of all 
 old national airs. The tunes are here given in simpler form, — the notes marked * have probably been erroneously 
 written in the text. 
 

 jl' 1 : 1 '™!;!' 1 
 
 
 
 
 V i JIM'I! 
 
AC0P1A TO CUZCO. 
 
 277 
 
 time of the Inca Loqui Yupanqui, I subjoin a copla from the most celebrated of the 
 ten or a dozen yaravis of which the Cusquinian repertoire boasts. 
 
 Tres-lcnt. 
 
 3=$ 
 
 -s"-x: 
 
 ^S^§^^^^§ 
 
 . 
 
 _5=EEE : 
 
 gg 
 
 3*^ 
 
 Conqueal fin tir - a - no du - e-no tauto amor clamores ta-a-ant.as; tantas fa-ti-gas tantaa fa-ti-gaa 
 
 3v=!^ 
 
 J>*_ 
 
 
 3=+ 
 
 '* 
 
 no ban con-se-guido eu tu pe-ch-o o-tro pre-e-e raio-o que uu 
 
 du - ro gol-pe de tir - a-ni - a. 
 
 After these pleasures of the dance and music which the two sexes share in common, 
 we must not forget to mention the bacchic pilgrimage which the women of the lower 
 
 A POPULAR PIC-NIC AT SACSAHOAMAN. 
 
 class make every } r ear to the Cemetery, and the rompish "outing" or picnic of the smaller 
 bourgeoisie to Sacsahuaman. This pilgrimage takes place on the "Day of the Dead." 
 From eight in the morning, the approaches to the Pantheon are obstructed by a crowd 
 of native women carrying in their arms jugs of chicha. Once in the Cemetery they 
 collect in the common fosse the heads, thigh-bones, and ribs of skeletons, the wreck of 
 the dead, which have been thrown out of the ground, and which they suppose to be 
 
278 PERU. 
 
 those of their relations, friends, or acquaintances. They select and assort these bones, 
 
 LILIACE.E OF S ACS AH U AMA K : — AM A R Y LL IS AUREA — CRINUM URC EOL AT U M — P AN C R ATI D M RECURVATDM. 
 
 arrange them in little heaps, and one after another set up the most plaintive waitings 
 
 "HE*! 
 
 CURIOSITIES OF S ACSAH U AM AN— THE CHINGANA. 
 
 over them, tell them the gossip of the quarter, and the news of the year; how the wife 
 
AGO PI A TO (JUZCO. 
 
 •JM 
 
 of Juan has left her husband to follow, in the character of rabona (vivandiere) a soldier 
 on the march; how Pedro's sow has had a litter of eight pigs, one of which has five feet; 
 how, in fine, Jose is gone into the hot valleys to work at the coca-gathering. They mix 
 this childish babble with tears, sobs, and draughts of chicha, taking care every time 
 they drink to water with the local beer the bones of the dear departed whom they 
 apostrophize, to the end that they may still enjoy in the other world a lingering odour 
 
 
 CURIOSITIES OP SACSAHUAMAN— THE SLIDE. 
 
 of the sweet liquor of which they emptied so many jugfuls in this. As this business 
 goes on the whole day, it is sure to happen by nightfall that the mourners are all 
 thoroughly drunk, and return to their homes tumbling against the walls and howling at 
 the full stretch of their lungs. 
 
 The outing at Sacsahuaman, which takes place on Whitsunday, is an al-fresco orgie 
 under the shadow of the walls of the fortress built by the Incas. Men and women, 
 furnished with provisions solid and licpxid, climb, on foot or on horseback, the abrupt 
 slope which leads to the summit of the eminence. Arrived on the platform which 
 crowns it, each party selects a site, spreads on the grass their provisions and bottles, 
 and then fall to eating and drinking, singing and dancing, or collecting the charming- 
 flowers of the neighbourhood, the Scillce and Amaryllidce, of the genera Crinum and 
 Pancratium, which bloom every year in nature's greenhouses. When the sun has dis- 
 
 36 
 
282 
 
 PERU. 
 
 appeared behind the three crosses on the hill, the drunken mob takes the road back 
 to the village, rolling about, stumbling, and supporting one another as well as they 
 can, and all the time accompanied by laughter, and shouts, and songs sufficient to 
 awake the dead. In the cathedral square the throng breaks up, and each party accom- 
 panies one of its members to continue at home the orgie commenced in the open air. 
 The spectacle of the annual processions, which are viewed by the ladies in full 
 
 A BULL-FIGHT AT CUZCO. 
 
 dress from the height of their balconies, must also be reckoned among the pleasures 
 of Cuzco. As for public rejoicings, they are so rare that it is hardly necessary to 
 mention them. The two great solemnities which we witnessed during our stay were 
 the grand entry of a bishop surrounded by a brilliant staff of priests ami monks, and 
 the nomination of a president, on which latter occasion the citizens of Cuzco went to 
 considerable expense. The programme of the rejoicings was spread over three days. 
 On the first day a mass was celebrated by way of thanksgiving, and a fine display of 
 fireworks made in the court of the cathedral exactly at noon. On the second day the 
 pupils of the College of San Bernardo performed a tragedy entitled Antony and Cleopatra. 
 The ladies of the city, previously invited by notes printed on white and pink satin, lent 
 the adornment of their presence to the representation. A student of theology, whose 
 skin was dark enough for the character, but who was less appropriately dressed in a 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 285 
 
 white robe with six flounces, his hair in corkscrews surmounted with a plume of feathers, 
 took the part of the beautiful queen of Alexandria. One of his companions, with a 
 great beard, a cocked hat and feather, a black dress-coat, and booted like a riding- 
 master, played Antony. This tragedy, in a single act and in octo-syllabic lines, was a 
 tremendous success. 
 
 The entertainment of the third day was a scuffle with tame balls, corrida de toros 
 
 EVOLUTIONS OP SOLDIEBS IX THE CIRCUS OP THE PLAZA DU C.VBILDO AT CUZCO. 
 
 mansos. The Plaza du Cabildo, where the water-carriers are accustomed to fill their 
 pitchers at all hours of the day, and spend the time in idle gossip, had been transformed 
 into a circus, and surrounded with six rows of ascending seats. From the hour of noon 
 till four o'clock a dozen bulls, whose horns had been cut and mounted with guards, to 
 prevent accident, as the programme said — the art of bull-fighting being still in its infancy 
 at Cuzco — were let loose in the arena, where they tumbled over the chulos (jesters 
 or clowns of the circus), clothed in white and green satin. As four o'clock struck, a 
 detachment of some thirty soldiers in a gray uniform and white calico hats {bonnets de 
 police) entered the circus to the sound of martial music, and drew up in the centre. 
 After a short rest, only disturbed by the word of command, carry arms and present 
 arms, they commenced spinning round like tee-totums, crossing each other, mixing with 
 each other, and winding in and out with remarkable nicety, while their hands were con- 
 
28G 
 
 PERU. 
 
 tinually occupied in taking from their cartouche-boxes, as if they were cartouches, 
 handfuls of the petals of flowers which they dropped on the ground. This choregraphie 
 
 >-- -v-^ /; f* 
 
 A PONGO OR WATER-CARBIER OF CUZCO. 
 
 rather than strategic evolution ended, these defenders of their country saluted politely 
 the assembled multitude and retreated backwards. The public then discovered written 
 
 
 t^z-~/ ■ - ■ , • 
 
 BREAD AND BDTTER SELLER AT CL'ZCO. 
 
 upon the yellow sand of the arena in capital letters made of flowers, and a couple of 
 yards long, these three words — VIVA EL PERU! A thunder of applause, which 
 made the seats of the circus tremble, saluted this fine achievement a la Eobert Houdin. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 287 
 
 In the absence of real pleasures, Cuzco has amusing scenes and curious episodes at 
 every street-corner to attract the idle, and the observers and painters of local mannei's. 
 
 M I L K • W O M A N OF CUZCO. 
 
 Among the number may be mentioned the little trades and industries carried on out 
 of doors, the street-altars of the Fete-Dieu, and the symbolical mascpierades, the sworn 
 
 , 
 
 
 
 
 
 MEAT-SELLERS OF CDZCO. 
 
 " slaughterers " of the police, and the verification on the spot of the number of dogs 
 killed by them every Monday morning. 
 
 Let us mention in the first place the sellers of chickarrones, fag-ends of salt pork 
 
288 
 
 PERU. 
 
 prepared in fat, the sellers of bread and butter, or bread and lard, a class habitually 
 found squatting against the pillar of an arcade or under an arched gateway. In this 
 category also are comprised the milk- women seated on the steps of the Jesuit church, 
 where they await their customers in the attitude of the Sphinx, taking an occasional 
 draught of milk out of the jug itself from which they help their customers; and the 
 meat-sellers of the great square, whose stall is a simple cloth spread on the ground, and 
 
 A SELLER OF ICES AT CUZCO. 
 
 held down by four stones, on which cutlets, beefsteaks, and fillets, torn rather than cut 
 with the knife from the beast, provoke the appetites of the lovers of a roast or a pot-au- 
 /en. Iii general the rags of these tradespeople, and their wares too, are revolt iugly filthy, 
 but their filthiness is ameliorated by a certain stamp of picturesqueness which satisfies 
 the imagination, in default of the taste, and excuses it in the eyes of the artist. 
 
 Anion" - other individualities of this kind I well remember an Indian girl some 
 twelve or thirteen years of age, with brown skin and dishevelled hair, clad in mere 
 cobwebs of various colours, and mounted on long shanks of legs, by the help of which 
 she traversed all parts of the city, and repulsed like a young colt the attacks made upon 
 her by the street -buys of her own age. She regularly passed my house about two o'clock 
 in the afternoon, carrying in her right hand, on an iron tray, two ices, the one blanche 
 a hi crime, the other rose au carmin. With her left hand, which was left free, she 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 289 
 
 foraged in her blowsy hair, and from time to time carried her fingers to her mouth. 
 Puzzled by these gestures, always the same, one day, when for the hundredth time she 
 had offered me her ices, which for the hundredth time I declined, I asked her what it 
 was she was eating. " Un piojito, seTior" (a little louse, monsieur), she replied with a 
 frank smile. 
 
 The symbolic masquerades, which number with the gaieties of Cuzco, form two very 
 
 SCENE AT THE CARNIVAL— THE AGUE OK TERTIAN FEVER CARICATURED. 
 
 distinct series; one set of them only appearing with the saturnalia of the Carnival, and 
 disappearing afterwards like birds of passage. Such are the chucchu (ague), the chunchos 
 (savages), and the dansante (dancer). The first-named is an Indian of middle age, 
 wearing a battered straw-hat, a sheet by way of a cloak, and carrying a medicinal 
 mallow. Two merry youngsters, grotesquely dressed, accompany him in his pro- 
 menade through the city, the one carrying a chair, the other an enormous syringe. At 
 every hundred steps this symbolic personage, whom the supposed fever causes to 
 tremble like a leaf in the wind, stops and salutes the passers-by; then kneeling upon 
 the chair and dropping the sheet, he repeats, with the help of his syringe-bearer, the 
 familiar scene indicated by Moliere in his Malade Imaginaire. 
 
 The chunchos are great dark-skinned fellows, with floating hair, dressed in their 
 ordinary manner, but wearing immense conical hats made of osier, and covered with 
 
 vol t. 37 
 
290 
 
 PERU. 
 
 feathers of macaws and perroquets. They play the part of savages iu the streets during 
 the three days of the festival, drinking and shouting their hardest. 
 
 
 THE CHUNCHOS— WILD MEN. 
 
 The dancer wears a straw-hat, round which are hung little bells and rattles. His 
 dress is a fringed spencer of faded velvet, and a petticoat, or rather a framework of osier, 
 
 THE DANCES. 
 
 ornamented with silver plates. He goes from house to house, dancing a zapateo of his 
 own composition to the tinkling accompaniment of slips of copper which rattle as he 
 moves. Under the regime of the viceroys, this dancer enjoyed similar privileges to those 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 291 
 
 which the old pagan times accorded to the river-god Scamander. A girl about to be 
 married, went, on the eve of her nuptials, to have the most mysterious of her duties as 
 
 THE HUYFALLA, OR MAN-BIRD. 
 
 a wife explained by him. These consultations were not gratuitous. The maiden, 
 besides surrendering herself to her adviser, presented him with a fat chicken, a dozen 
 
 THE HUAMANGUINO, OR DANCING BUFFOON. 
 
 of eggs, a bladder of butter, or any other little cadeau. Happy dancer! Now that his 
 privileges of grand seigneur are abolished, the maidens of the country turn their backs 
 upon him, and freely sell to others what in old times they gave him gratuitously. 
 
292 
 
 PERU. 
 
 Besides these profane masquerades, there are sacred exhibitions, the actors in which 
 accompany the processions, frisk about before the litters of the Virgin and the saints; 
 apostrophize noisily the holy images; nay, put out their tongues and shake their fist at 
 them. Of this sort are the huyf alias, or men-birds, whose wings are formed of two 
 strips of calico, and who turn about, or throw themselves forward with their heads bent 
 till they almost touch the ground, in imitation of flying, at the same time uttering a cry 
 like hawks. 
 
 With the huyfallas must be classed the Huamanguinos, inhabitants of the ancient 
 Huamanga (now Ayacucho). From the time of the Incas that province had the privi- 
 lege of providing Cuzco with dwarfs, buffoons, actors, and mountebanks, destined for 
 
 TARUCA AND TARUCACHA (DEER AND BUCK). 
 
 the entertainment of the court. Now that the Incas have disappeared, the Huaman- 
 guinos, fallen from their estate, follow the fairs as common clowns, or figure in the 
 annual processions. Their customary performance is a kind of Pyrrhic dance, which 
 they perform to the clinking noise made by the two blades of a pair of scissors, one 
 suspended from their thumb the other from their forefinger, which they use as castanets. 
 Some of them play juggling tricks with daggers and balls, pierce their tongue with 
 needles, or, like Mutius Sc^vola, hold their hand over a brazier to the astonishment of 
 the gaping crowd. 
 
 The huyfallas and Huamanguinos are escorted by tunicas and tarucachas (deer 
 and bucks), young fellows disguised in the skins of the animals whose name they 
 take. All these strange and wildly accoutred revellers leap, gambol, grimace, and yell 
 to the utmost extent of their ability in the midst of the processions, or opposite the 
 temporary street-altars, the arrangement and decoration of which are due to the cor- 
 poration of fruiterers. These altars consist of a long table, covered with a cloth 
 ornamented with stars of tinsel; a sort of reredos is formed with an elliptic framework 
 of osier, decorated with mirrors and ostrich eggs; besides which, old two-globed piastres 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 •203 
 
 and silver reals, having holes made in them for the purpose, are hung up by threads. 
 Altogether they present a singular mixture of objects of art and industry, and specimens 
 taken from all the three kingdoms of nature. Sometimes macaws and monkeys mount 
 guard at the opposite ends of the erection, and as the natural restlessness of the animals 
 is but ill adapted to the immobility of pose to which they are condemned, and would 
 naturally seek to gratify itself by investigating too curiously the decorations of the altar, 
 
 FRUITERERS OF CUZCO. 
 
 a couple of young scapegraces, armed with a switch or a whip, are charged to recall 
 them to order every time they stretch out a paw to snatch at anything. 
 
 The sastres or tailors, and the pasamaneros or lace-makers, work in the open air; 
 the former seated in oriental fashion on wooden benches, the latter standing behind one 
 another, manipulating the thread, make a picture of genre, perfect in composition and 
 sufficiently picturesque in its character of vagabondage. Generally the tailors have 
 dishevelled hair, naked feet slipped in old shoes, and shirts so open as to expose their 
 chests. With this ndglige costume they wear, however, very correct, though patched, 
 pantaloons and dress-coats or walking-coats, which, notwithstanding that they are with- 
 out buttons, and sometimes have but one skirt, enable us to recognize them at a glance 
 as the proper Avorking representatives of French fashions. 
 
 The lace-makers are poor devils, who go about without shoes, and Avith their dirty 
 
29-4 
 
 PERU. 
 
 shirts hanging out behind through the holes in their trousers. Standing before a box 
 of spools perched upon two trestles, they pass the whole day weaving backwards loops 
 or ribbons, and making their bobbins fly with various-coloured silks. There is nothing 
 more curious and laughable than to see these industriels surprised by a storm of rain. 
 
 STREET-ALTAR ON CORPUS - HRISTI DAT AT OUZCO. 
 
 Suddenly stopping work, they break their threads, mingle their woofs, bundle their 
 bobbins together, and rush with frightened cries towards the box, which they carry 
 under shelter of a gateway. When the storm is over they replace the box on its 
 trestles, the ragged operators resume their position in line, and the bobbins begin 
 
 twirling again. 
 
 The weekly massacre of dogs by four sworn slaughterers, commissioned by the 
 police, the redileship, or the highway board — I know not what to call it — constitutes 
 a spectacle at once grotesque and pitiful. At Cuzco, as at Valparaiso, clogs wander 
 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 295 
 
 about the city in numerous troops, to prevent the too great multiplication of which 
 these slaughterers make the round of the city at an early hour every Monday morning. 
 Two of them, holding the two ends of a rope, walk along by the houses on either side 
 of the street, their companions following, armed with bludgeons or knobbed sticks. 
 Every dog that happens to be passing through the street at that fatal moment is 
 unmercifully thrown into the air by means of the rope, and then bludgeoned. Between 
 eleven and twelve o'clock these victims, of all sizes and colours, are laid side by side 
 
 f! (J ,k.j 
 
 I.ACE-5TAKEES OP CUZCO. 
 
 in the square of the Cabildo, where a verifier appointed for the purpose comes to count 
 them. The ai'tists of Cuzco are permitted, by leave of the verifier, to cut off the hair 
 from the bodies before they are dragged into the square. They make their pencils of it. 
 As this weekly massacre has been going on for many years, the instinct of the 
 dogs, developed to an unusual degree by the danger which menaces them every Monday, 
 has all the appearance of reason. A singular agitation is apparent in the various troops 
 on the morning of the fatal day; they walk slowly and cautiously, with their eyes fixed, 
 their ears pricked up, and their noses in the wind. On perceiving a suspicious group 
 they stop, and should two or three individuals wrapped in ponchos appear at the end 
 of a street, they scamper off at full speed. The confidence of the poor wretches returns 
 again on Tuesday morning, and during all the rest of the week they are so forgetful 
 
290 
 
 PERU. 
 
 of the proscription which hangs over them that it is necessary to use one's cane or 
 foot to make them move from the middle of the road, where they are in the habit of 
 sleeping. 
 
 I remarked, when commencing this enumeration of the pleasures presented at 
 Cuzco, that the city possesses nothing whatever in the character of a theatre or assembly- 
 room. But it has just occurred to me that it boasts of a cancha de gallos, a little circus 
 
 THE DOG-DESTROYERS OP CUZCO. 
 
 of about thirty feet in circumference, where cock-fighting is practised with birds properly 
 trained and equipped with steel spurs. All these cocks are in name and genealogy 
 thorough-bred. Every Sunday, from three till six o'clock, a public, greedy for the 
 cruel sport, crowd round the door of the cancha, the entrance price of which is a silver 
 real. The proprietors of the birds excite them by voice and gesture to combat to the 
 death, and considerable sums are staked upon their valour, the lookers-on betting as 
 at a game of high-and-low or ecartc. Umpires appointed for the purpose decide on 
 doubtful strokes, and any difficulties that arise between the parties to the sport. It 
 often happens, in spite of the conciliatory intervention of these judges, that players 
 of perverse temper or bad taste come to blows, to the great delight of the spectators, 
 whose semi-barbarous tastes are even more gratified by a gladiatorial combat than a 
 cock-fight. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 297 
 
 This brief account of the eaneka de gallos leads us to speak of the state of the fine 
 arts at Cuzco; but as the transition to such a subject may appear a little sudden to the 
 reader, he must understand that the most celebrated painter in the city in our time had 
 his studio and his dwelling next door to the cancha above referred to. This artist, whom 
 we frequently visited, and whom we surnamed the Raphael of the ('nucha — a name 
 which we believe he still bears in the circle of our friends — will serve as the link to unite 
 the preceding observations with those which are to follow. 
 
 The churches and convents which the conquerors built in the two Americas remained 
 for a long time without pictures, because the Spanish school of painting, which was one 
 
 ; A 
 
 THE VERIFIER COUNTING THE DOGS KILLED AT ODZCO. 
 
 day to present the world with so many chefs-d'oeuvre, was still dormant in its original 
 limbo. It was not till the reigns of Philip III. and his successors down to Charles IV. 
 that the canvases of Morales, Ribeira (Spagnoletto), Zurbarn, Velasquez, Alonzo Cano, 
 Murillo, and their various pupils, were carried into the New World with the works of 
 the Flemish school. 
 
 The sight of these pictures awoke in some of the indigenes a taste for painting. 
 Gifted with that faculty of imitation possessed in so high a degree by the inhabitants of 
 the Celestial Empire, and which makes them soil or tear a picture if the original which 
 they copy has by chance a stain or a hole in it, these children of the country set to work, 
 and in time arrived at such perfection, that, favoured by the obscurity of the churches, 
 travellers have been so deceived as to mistake for unknown originals the copies which 
 had no other merit than that of a servile fidelity. These pretended originals, when 
 exposed to full daylight, and relieved of the dirt which covers them, instantly betray 
 to a practised eye their plebeian origin, as certain hands, when the gloves are pulled 
 off, show the callosities and marks of hard labour. 
 
 Subsequently, for want of original works — which had become the objects of private 
 
 38 
 
298 
 
 PERU. 
 
 speculation — the artists of Cuzco had to derive their inspiration from the copies made 
 by their predecessors. A few engravings which have from time to time fallen into their 
 hands have completed that artistic education which for a century past has made no 
 advance. To speak to living artists of anatomy and osteology, of studies from the 
 round, and the anatomical or living model, of linear or aerial perspective, would be to 
 talk in a language incomprehensible to them, and expose the interlocutor to a bad com- 
 pliment. This absolute defect of the first notions of art interdicts all original creation, 
 and obliges the artists of Cuzco to resort to existing canvases, and take from them the 
 various details which they form into a fresh whole. Hence that constraint, that crude- 
 
 ... ■ 
 
 COCK-FIGHTING AT CUZCO. 
 
 ness, and that want of animation, which instantly strike one at the first sight of their 
 works. Every figure in their pictures, made up of bits, seems as if it had been cut out 
 with a punch and pasted on the canvas. There is no back-ground or foreground, no 
 breath of air, no movement in these wretched silhouettes, which are notwithstanding 
 recommended to attention by their often fresh and charming colours, the result of 
 traditional rules. 
 
 Fine old works, we have remarked, are extremely rare in the churches and convents 
 of Cuzco. Nevertheless, one may sometimes find in an obscure corner, where it is 
 covered with dust and spiders' webs, an artistic gem, which its possessors never refuse 
 to sell if the proposal is whispered in their ears, and the price offered is sufficient. A 
 single fact, which may be related in a few lines, will tell more on this subject than 
 many pages of assertion. 
 
 A friend with whom I was conversing one day about the pictures in the churches 
 and convents of Cuzco, asked me to which of these works I would give the preference. 
 I mentioned a picture some two feet square, representing the Flight into Egypt, having 
 discovered it under a staircase in the convent of La Eecoleta, where, like a burning 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 299 
 
 lamp, it seemed to light up the gloom. My friend, curious to verify the fact, accom- 
 panied me to the place indicated, where I pointed out the chef-d'oeuvre in question, the 
 glowing colour of which, no less than the strange and luxurious accoutrement of the 
 figures, seemed to proclaim it the work of Rubens, or of some artist of his school. 
 My friend looked at this picture for a long time, called it bonito (pretty), and went out 
 without saying anything. Some days later, on calling upon him, the first thing I saw 
 was this precious canvas which he had cut out of the frame, but so awkwardly, that the 
 naked feet of the Virgin were left in the margin. To think that a man whom I called 
 my friend could be guilty of so unworthy an action, brought the blood to my face, and I 
 was on the point of refusing to shake hands with him. A few words, however, sufficed 
 to prove his innocence. A monk of the Recoleta to whom he had offered, through 
 an old beguine accustomed to this sort of thing, an ounce of gold (SO francs 40 cents.) 
 in exchange for the unknown Rubens, had not hesitated to charge his conscience with 
 this sacrilegious theft. At the same time, fearing to be surprised by one of the brothers, 
 and to have a bone to pick with the prior, he had cut out the canvas secretly, and this 
 with such precipitation as to cut through the ankles of the Virgin. A month afterwards, 
 going to smoke a cigar in the place which had been despoiled of this artistic gem, I saw 
 the old frame with the margin of the canvas, on which the rosy feet of the Virgin-mother 
 seemed to protest energetically against the cruel amputation to which they had been 
 subjected by a simoniacal monk. 
 
 Political revolutions, domestic troubles, and, more than these, the serious tempera- 
 ment of the Cusqueiios, devoted to the study of theology and canon-law, combine to 
 depress the fine arts, whose muse at Cuzco walks a-foot, when, upon that classic soil, 
 she ought to be winged. The churches and convents, filled with paintings, have no com- 
 missions to bestow on modern artists, and the need for economizing compels families to 
 follow the example of the religious communities. The two or three painters of whom 
 the city boasts would run the risk of starvation if the merchants and conductors of 
 tropas, whom business brings to the city, did not commission subjects upon which, when 
 returned home, they realized large profits. These commissions consist of dozens of 
 Stations of the Cross, Good Shepherds with or without sheep, Virgins an Raisin, a la 
 Chaise, an Poisson, copied from engravings; saints, male and female, of all kinds, cither 
 as busts Or full-length figures, and with or without hands. Each of these canvases is 
 paid for, be it understood, according to its size and the more or less skill which the sub- 
 ject demands. Some are not more than four reals (say two shillings), others may be as 
 much as two pounds. When once the merchant has given his commission, and has settled 
 with the artist when the work is to be ready, he pays him something on account, and 
 departs with perfect confidence in his good faith. It is seldom indeed that the good 
 faith of the artist fails him, but his customer is absent, and may not return for six 
 months — and "out of sight, out of mind." Other work comes in, and other money is 
 taken on account. In fine, the artist forgets so entirely the merchant and his commission, 
 that nothing is done. Hence arise recriminations without end on the part of the patron, 
 and excuses without number on the part of the artist, who at length, when threatened 
 with a good thrashing, applies himself to the work. 
 
300 PERU. 
 
 As "artists' repositories" are unknown in the country, the painter is left to his 
 own resources to procure the articles necessary for his work. Ochres and other earths 
 he finds in the ravines near the city; a few colours in powder he may get from the 
 apothecary near the Convent of Mercy; the pulpero, or grocer, will supply him with 
 oil and essence; incense in powder serves for dryers; bones half-burned supply him 
 with bitumen, and the smoke of his candle with black. As for pencils, as we have 
 already incidentally stated, the hair of the dogs killed every week enables him to 
 renew them at little expense. For his canvases he is contented with English calico 
 at 6d. or Id. a yard; this he prepares himself and stretches, not on a frame, but a 
 board with the aid of six or eight nails; for a pallet he is satisfied with a fragment 
 of a plate, or a bit of a broken square of glass. 
 
 The reader must not do us the honour of attributing to our imagination the 
 invention of these details. Every item is from observation in the artists' studios, where 
 often, while smiling at their various preparations, we have wondered at the good result 
 they obtained. 
 
 One of these artists, the same whom, by reason of his talent, we have surnamed 
 the "Raphael of the Cancha," honoured us with his special confidence. Although he 
 well knew that in our leisure moments we dabbled in colours like himself, he did not 
 hesitate to reveal to us the little secrets of his art, knowing that we were morally 
 incapable of using or abusing them to take away his trade. The gift of a few bad 
 lithographs had opened wide for us the door of his atelier, where we often went 
 to see him paint. That atelier, the rent of which amounted to five francs a month, 
 was below the level of the ground. The descent was by three steps, which limped like 
 one of Martial's distichs. A light a la Rembrandt flashed in the interior. The ground 
 was invisible under a litter of vegetable pickings, among which fowls and guinea-pigs 
 disputed with each other for every nibble they could get. A dog, whose framework 
 was plainly visible under his skin, slept by the side of the artist. A black cat without 
 a tail or ears, like a Japanese idol, purred upon his shoulder while he painted, 
 subject to the harassing abuse of his wife, a thick-set and chubby-headed native woman, 
 whose face was purple with erysipelas, and who divided her time between trying to 
 make the pot boil and annoying her husband. 
 
 The favourite theme of this dreadful Fornarina was to reproach our poor Raphael 
 with his idleness and his drunkenness. To hear her talk, he passed whole weeks 
 without doing the least work with his ten fingers, and the little that he at last earned 
 he was sure to spend in drink. The artist disdained to reply to these shameful 
 imputations. Dipping his pencils in the pomade-pots, for which he was indebted to 
 the munificence of the ladies of the city, and which served him for saucers, he continued 
 his work. When his patience was exhausted he filled a bowl with chicha, emptied it 
 at a draught, and having dried his lips with his sleeve, courageously resumed his work 
 as if to give the lie to the allegations of his horrible wife. Poor Raphael! If his 
 head now rests in the common fosse provided for the low-class Indians and artists 
 of Cuzco, may the remembrance of thousands of chefs-d'oeuvre which he has painted 
 upon calico make the dreams of his last sleep pleasant! 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 301 
 
 What we have said of the painters of Cuzco is applicable to its statuaries, whose 
 first models were the images sent by the kings of Spain to adorn the churches and 
 convents. These artists have a manner of their own of working which deserves to be 
 explained. In the first place they are all very far from being rich. Most of them may 
 even be called poor, since their naked toes are seen protruding through the holes 
 in their shoes, or their shirt hanging out from their tattered inexpressibles when the 
 
 THE ATELIER OK STUDIO OF THE RAPHAEL OF THE CANCHA. 
 
 wind blows aside the rag of fustian which serves for a cloak. Their studio is a low 
 chamber of the most unpretending appearance. A board laid on a couple of trestles 
 serves as a table or bench. On the wall are hung plaster-masks of all sizes, arms, legs, 
 feet, hands, and busts of all dimensions. These members are provided with pegs which 
 serve to fix them to the bodies. A quarter of an hour's work suffices for the artist 
 to fit together all the pieces of a "Christ," a "Virgin," or any kind of saint. The 
 clothing and draperies of these images are fragments of stuff joined together with a 
 liquid plaster, which hardens while drying. The art of moulding the clay, of sketching 
 the first conception of their thought, is utterly unknown to these statuaries. It is not 
 always, indeed, that they have any thought to sketch, and plastic clay is not found 
 in the environs of Cuzco. Their work is simply to adapt the ready-made limbs to the 
 ready-made bodies, of which their predecessors have left them the moulds. If any 
 
302 PERU. 
 
 difficulty of design presents itself, if any detail is demanded which is not to be found 
 in the collection prepared beforehand, the artist provides it on the spot by cutting to 
 the pattern a piece of plaster as a sculptor in wood would carve a block of oak. 
 
 These statuaries have to avail themselves of colour as well as form, because no 
 customer would tolerate a "Christ" or a "Virgin" entirely white, were it even of 
 Carrara marble. With the help of white-lead, ochre, vermilion, and carmine, they 
 prepare a colour, more or less brilliant, which they spread and equalize with the 
 finger of an old kid-glove, which serves them in place of a badger. It then remains to 
 fix the glass eyes in the face — for these images have eyes, and sometimes teeth and 
 hair, like the "Virgin of Belen" and the "Christ of Earthquakes," two images 
 venerated at Cuzco. To make the eyes they have a metal sauce-pan, or rather a 
 frying-pan, pierced with a score of holes of various sizes, over the most suitable of which 
 they place fragments of window-glass, cut to the shape of the eyes, and then set the 
 pan over a fire. When the heat has softened the glass sufficiently, the operator takes a 
 rounding tool, and pressing each piece of glass into the hole gives it a convex form. 
 He then, by means of colours, depicts the pupil and the globe of the eye in the concavity, 
 and this object, inserted in the eyeholes of the images, gives to their faces that life-like 
 and radiant look which astonishes the stranger. 
 
 The chisels, files, polishers, and other artistic tools used by these indigenous 
 statuaries, are the bones of sheep or poultry, old worn-out blades of penknives or 
 table-knives, old nails, old brushes, and old gloves. Their ingenuity, stimulated by 
 wretchedness, makes fish of all that comes to their net. Rubbish of every kind, that 
 is contemptuously thrown aside in European cities, is collected by them with the 
 greatest care, washed, cleaned, scrubbed, and serves for years to make those beautiful 
 images which on the great festal days they drape with sumptuous garments and 
 precious stones, to carry through the streets. 
 
 The most celebrated of the annual processions of Cuzco is that of the Senor de los 
 Temblores or "Christ of Earthquakes," which takes place on the afternoon of Easter- 
 Monday. Two days beforehand children are sent to despoil of their flowers the shrubs 
 of nuccho (Salvia splendens), of which they obtain basketfuls. The street-altars to be 
 erected and dressed in the cathedral square set in movement the corporation of fruiterers, 
 upon whom this business exclusively devolves. The houses before which the procession 
 has to pass display the hangings of velvet with golden fringe or other rich stuffs, and 
 handsome carpets which, during all the rest of the year, remain shut up in their 
 wardrobes. The important day at length arrives. From an early hour the camaretos 
 (small howitzers) awake with their thunders the echoes of the city. Petards, squibs, 
 rockets hiss on every side, notwithstanding that their luminous trajectories are lost in 
 the light of the sun. The people in their Sunday attire flock into the streets or fill the 
 balconies. Floods of chicha, wine, and brandy have been running since the first vigil to 
 celebrate the end of Holy Week and the grand day of the Resurrection. At four o'clock 
 precisely a triple salvo of howitzers makes the place tremble; churches and convents 
 strike up a joyous carillon; all the bells of the Cathedral, from the thorough-bass, 
 called the madre abadesa (the mother abbess), to the silver esquilon of the Chapel of 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 
 
 303 
 
 Triumph, are rung at once in a volley of sound. Ten thousand excited and howling 
 Indians fill the square, while the windows are crowded with the curious of both sexes 
 waving their handkerchiefs. All three entrances of the Cathedral have their folding- 
 
 A SCULPTOR OF CUZCO. 
 
 doors thrown wide open, allowing the dark interior of the nave to be visible, in which, 
 shining like glowworms, are the lights of a thousand wax-candles. At this moment 
 a religious shiver runs through the multitude. All necks are stretched, all eyes are 
 turned towards the central gate, from which the procession is beginning to issue, 
 preceded by crosses of gold, which are carried by vergers with collarettes, and great 
 silver candelabra, which the brown-skinned acolytes in white clothing carry with their 
 two hands. 
 
 The first image that appears, standing on a litter carried by eight men, is that of 
 
304 PERU. 
 
 San Bias, from whom a quarter of the city derives its name. The crowd salutes it with 
 acclamations and prolonged clapping of hands. The costume of the holy bishop consists 
 of a black velvet coat descending to the knees, with puffed sleeves embroidered with 
 gold Flesh-coloured small-clothes define his legs, a large quilled ruff encircles his neck 
 and covers his shoulders. His head-dress is a sort of university hat (beret) of black 
 velvet, with white plumes. His feet are cased in red buskins ; in his right hand, covered 
 with a gauntlet of varnished leather, he carries his breviary, a quarto book with gilt 
 edges. An angel with spread wings is perched upon a spiral spring behind the saint, 
 whom he shades from the sun with a pink silk parasol. At every jolt of the litter the 
 mobility of the angel's support causes his sunshade to sway gently up and down. 
 
 San Bias is immediately followed by San Benito, whom the crowd receives coldly, 
 under the pretence that the reverend abbe was descended in a direct line from Ham 
 the son of Noah. The image in fact is of a jet black, like the cloth of its cassock, and 
 this, with its great white eyes and blubber lips of a reddish violet colour, give it a suffi- 
 ciently repulsive aspect. 
 
 To San Benito succeeds San Cristoval. The hermit Christ-bearer supports himself 
 by holding an up-rooted palm, which bends to and fro under him like a reed. He is 
 clothed in a white robe embroidered with golden stars, and relieved with poppies. He 
 has purple fillets in his hair like an Assyrian king; moustaches of great length and 
 ferocity, and a long-pointed beard like that of King Charles. 
 
 San Cristoval is followed by San Jose, the husband of Mary. The lonely cai'penter 
 is dressed in the robe of a Carmelite pilgrim. He carries a framed saw in one hand, 
 and in the other a knobbed stick, with which he supports himself. The only pro- 
 fane decoration which disfigures this severe costume is a peacock's feather stuck in his 
 felt-hat. 
 
 Behind San Jose' comes the image of the Virgin of Belen, or Bethlehem, standing on 
 a litter carried by sixteen men, who seem to stagger under the burden. In fact, this 
 litter is made of heavy huarango wood covered with silver plates, and surmounted 
 with massive chandeliers of the same metal, in which are lighted candles of sweet- 
 smelling wax. The mother of the Saviour is radiant with beauty ; never statuary modelled 
 the oval of a face with more consummate perfection; never Chinese painter traced two 
 arches of ebony more delicately than the eyebrows of this image, the ideal colour of 
 which is freshened up by a bright copal varnish which sparkles in the sun. As for her 
 costume, the queen of saints and angels is dressed in a style which can only be described 
 as ravishing. Her petticoat, of blue and white brocade, worked with gold, has panniers 
 more than six yards round; a stomacher of silver lace adorns the front of the corsage, 
 the voluminous sleeves of which allow to escape from their bonillonne (bordering) of 
 Venetian lace naked arms whiter than those of Here — may we be pardoned the profane 
 comparison — and these arms, circled with rich bracelets, are terminated by patrician 
 hands whose fingers are covered with rings. In one of her hands she holds a scapulary 
 embroidered with gold and precious stones; in the other she flutters a costly fan. The 
 head-dress of the Virgin harmonizes with the elegance of her apparel. Her soft blonde 
 hair is slightly curled, and has a touch of powder. Her crown is a diadem of fabulous 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 305 
 
 value. Two costly pearls are suspended from her ears, and a collar of rubies sparkles 
 on her neck — that swan-like neck which is encircled by an immense ruff of guipure, 
 lace, mixed with threads of gold. So placed in the centre of that fuunel of lace the 
 head of the Mother of God looks like the pistil of some strange flower. 
 
 The distinctive feature of Mary's face is the extreme mobility of her glass eyes, 
 which a concealed wheel or spring causes to roll in their orbits with frightful rapidity. 
 The stranger is terrified a little at first by the perpetual movement of these divine eyes, 
 but on hearing the remarks of the crowd, " Que ojos lindos y que duke mirur!" (What 
 beautiful eyes, what a sweet look!) he soon begins to share in the general infatuation. 
 
 On leaving the church the bearers of the images are arranged in the following order: 
 San Bias, San Benito, San Cristoval, to the left of the grand entrance; the Virgin and 
 St. Joseph to the right. In this position all wait the arrival of the " Man-God," the 
 " Christ of Earthquakes," who is always a little late in order to excite the religious 
 fervour of the faithful. These arrangements are made beforehand by an ecclesiastical 
 programme which assigns to the bearers of the images not only the hierarchic place 
 which they are to occupy in the procession, but the various evolutions they are to 
 make on leaving the Cathedral and returning to it. 
 
 Very soon a white looking form begins to be visible in the penumbra of the grand 
 nave; a religious tremor runs through the multitude; the men lift their hats or caps, 
 and the women devoutly cross themselves. The Virgin, leaving the company of St. 
 Joseph, advances in front of all the saints, in order that she may be the first to salute, 
 on leaving the church, her beloved Son. The " Christ of Earthquakes " at last appears 
 in the great doorway. A tremendous cry resounds in the great square; the balconies 
 of the houses tremble upon their worm-eaten beams, and hats and handkerchiefs are 
 waved before the revered effigy. 
 
 The "Man-God" is extended upon the infamous cross, become by his death the 
 symbol of redemption. As faithful narrators Ave feel ourselves compelled to describe 
 minutely the features of this image, and if any irreverent expression escapes us, un- 
 accustomed as we are to the phrases it is necessary to employ, the fault is in the 
 inflexibility of the French language, and not in our orthodoxy, which, thank God, is 
 sufficiently sound to bear the test of councils, and defy the fire of the stake, if councils 
 and stakes still existed. 
 
 Since Charles V. sent from Cadiz by a galley this venerated image, no profane pencil 
 has retouched its primitive colour. Time, dust, the smoke of incense and of tapers, 
 and the irreverence of the flies, have combined to change its once brilliant colour into 
 a kind of violet red. The blood with which it was literally sprinkled from head to foot 
 has acquired by age the tint of bitumen, so that the skin of the crucified Saviour looks 
 like that of a panther. From the sculptor's point of view it is a block of oak scarcely 
 hewn into shape, a barbarous and almost hideous form, reminding one both of the 
 Hindoo idol and the classic ecorchc. This Christ, in place of the traditional drapery, 
 wears a petticoat of English lace fastened round its hips by a ribbon, and descending 
 half-way down its legs. The thorns of the three-spined acacia which form its crown are 
 imitated in precious stones of fabulous value. The nails which fasten the image to the 
 
 VOL. I. 39 
 
306 PERU. 
 
 cross are emeralds from Panama three inches long, and the lips of the wound made 
 in the side by the spear of Longinus are defined by balass-rubies larger than gray peas. 
 The hair, which is lifted and blown by the wind, is black and of extraordinary length. 
 Before adorning the head of the Eedeemer it embellished for a long time that of a sinful 
 girl, who died prematurely from the effect of the wild orgies in which she indulged. 
 The father of this Magdalene, an officer of police whom I knew, but refrain from naming, 
 himself cut the hair from his dead daughter and sent it as a gift to the chapter of the 
 Cathedral, as much to redeem the faults of the poor girl and open for her the gates of 
 heaven, as to replace the old hair of the " Christ of Earthquakes," which the worms, 
 who respect nothing, had ignominiously eaten away in patches. 
 
 This Christ, the sight of which inspired a sentiment of repulsion and almost of 
 terror, was carried on a litter of silver by thirty cholos without shoes, with disordered 
 hair, and their clothes in rags. It was surrounded by a great number of burning Avax- 
 lights. Invisible springs or wheels communicated a nervous movement to all its limbs, 
 and made them continually tremble. It bears by metonymy the name of Sefior de los 
 Temblores, and protects the faithful on the occurrence of earthquakes. 
 
 Its exit from the Cathedral is the signal of the departure of the procession. The 
 bearers of the images defile in succession. Every five minutes the men who bear the 
 litter of the Virgin stop and face about, that the Holy Mother may assure herself that 
 her well -beloved Son has not abandoned her. Following the Christ of Earthquakes, 
 comes the dais of the holy sacrament surrounded by the ecclesiastical notabilities and 
 the civil and military authorities of Cuzco. The four orders of monks — blue, white, 
 black, and gray — form a double hedge to the cortege, and close the march. A swarm 
 of beguines, like birds of night, press upon the steps of the monks. A sea of people roll 
 in upon the procession behind the beguines, to the great disgust of the latter, who turn 
 round with an irritated air, and interrupt their chant of Pange lingua gloriosi, to treat 
 those of their troublesome followers who press too close upon them with such epithets 
 slsJHs de chien and masque du diabk! 
 
 As often as the procession skirts the walls of a house and passes near a balcony, 
 basketfuls of the petals of the nuccko are emptied upon the Lord of Earthquakes, 
 covering his shoulders with a purple stream. The buffoons, the dancers, the deer, and 
 other masqueraders, previously described, who have been to refresh themselves in the 
 neighbouring cabarets, reappear, and play their antics round the sacred litters, shaking 
 their fists at the images and questioning or apostrophizing them with hideous grimaces. 
 As the procession advances into the interior of the city the enthusiasm increases, and, 
 spreading through the masses, reacts upon the most indifferent spirits. The sight of 
 this " Christ," trembling like one just come out of icy water, draws cries from the 
 beholders which are heard above the normal diapason. Hoarse with shouting, the 
 voices of the crowd would soon die in their throats if brandy were not at hand to 
 sharpen its ring. Among the Indians of both sexes, who snatch from each others' hands 
 the jug or the bottle, it seems to be a trial of strength who can shout the longest and 
 hardest whilst shaking their fists at the pious effigy. 
 
 Soon this crowd, unable to control the religious and bacchic frenzy which possesses 
 
PROCESSION OF THE LOI or 
 

 
 
 \ 
 
 
 &HU YOT 
 
 1 JF EARTHQUAKES AT CUZCO. 
 
ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 311 
 
 it, rushes as one man upon the bearers of the litter of Christ, who bend under their 
 burden. They seize them in their arms, grapple them by their hair, tear their clothes 
 and shirts to rags, every one in his turn wanting to bear the litter, or only to touch the 
 wood, believing that simple contact with it will earn for the sinner a remission of ten 
 years of sin. But the Indians charged with this precious burden, having no doubt sins 
 enough to expiate, repulse energetically the proffered assistance, and ward off the 
 attacks made upon them by blows with the open hand or the fist, and even by kicks 
 and bites. All this cannot be expected to go on for long without something serious 
 resulting. The partial fight soon resolves into a general struggle, and furious blows are 
 exchanged as the crowd sways to and fro, mingled with which are heard howls of pain 
 and imprecations of rage. 
 
 In this conflict, which the indigenous spectators both lay and religious find perfectly 
 apropos to the occasion, and which astonishes not a little the stranger, the image of the 
 crucified Redeemer rolls and pitches like a ship in a tempestuous sea, and often totters 
 on its litter though it never falls, supported as it is on every side by the surging mass of 
 human heads and shoulders. It is a saying here — that as the Lord of Earthquakes 
 mneve mucho nunca cue (is much shaken but never falls), so heresies disturb without 
 overthrowing the foundation-stone of Christianity. 
 
 While the Indians and cholos dispute for the honour of bearing the litter, their 
 women throw into the face of Christ handfuls of the flowers of the nuccho, which they 
 collect again from under the feet of the combatants at the risk of being crushed. These 
 blossoms of the sage, sanctified by contact with the "Man-God," and done up in paper 
 bags, are afterwards used in infusions, and possess, say these thrifty housewives, the 
 sudorific properties of borage and elder (Sambucus nigra). The procession, retarded 
 at every step by incidents of this kind, takes two hours to traverse the Great Square, 
 the Calle de San Juan de Dios, the Square of San Francisco, and the Calle du Marquis 
 — an ordinary ten minutes' walk. 
 
 At six o'clock the sacred litters have returned into the square of the Cathedral. 
 The gates, which had been closed during the march of the procession, are opened again 
 to the ringing of bells and explosions of howitzers. San Bias, San Benito, San Cris- 
 toval, and San Jose disappear in the gloom of the interior, and the gates of the church 
 are closed upon them. There the Virgin and the Christ remain face to face, and the 
 bearers of the two images perform a pantomime, the subject of which is a question of 
 precedence between the Holy Mother and her Divine Son. The question is which of 
 the two shall yield the pas to the other. After repeated hesitations and demonstrations, 
 the Virgin decides to go in first. Arrived under the porch she is in the act of turning 
 round to assure herself that Christ is following, when the gate of the church, which 
 had opened to give her passage, suddenly closes behind her and she is separated from 
 her Son. The representation of the religious drama must be carried out to the end. 
 After the epitasis and the cataslasis, comes the indispensable catastrophe. 
 
 The Christ of Earthquakes is alone outside the gates of the Cathedral, surrounded 
 with 10,000 Indians, who question him in the local idiom. " Where are you going?" 
 they cry to him from every side; "stay tvith us; do not leave thy children!" The bearers 
 
312 PERU. 
 
 of the litter cause the image to move from left to right, and vice versa, by way of replying 
 to the faithful ; the answer to these exclamations is understood to be in the negative. 
 "Ing-rate! a God without boivels!" the crowd again exclaims, weeping hot tears. " You 
 mean then to leave us till next year?" The image of Christ makes an affirmative sign. 
 "Ah well, go then!" roars with one voice the immense multitude. The central gate is 
 half opened, the bearers of the image seem as if they would slip in, but the crowd 
 presses upon them, and again the door is shut. After some minutes passed in this 
 strange contest, both leaves of the grand entrance are folded back and the litter of 
 Christ is borne into the church as by a tumultuous billow of human heads. The despair 
 of the crowd then breaks out in a final crescendo: the women utter piercing cries and 
 tear their hair; the men howl and tear their clothes; the children, frightened by the 
 grief of their parents, cry pitiably; and the dogs take part in the fray by furiously 
 barking. 
 
 Ten minutes later these noisy demonstrations of grief are extinguished in one 
 immense roar of laughter. Fires are kindled in front of the Cathedral; chicha and 
 brandy run in streams; guitars strike up, dances are organized, and when Aurora, with 
 her rosy fingers, opens the gates of the East, she finds our good Indians lying dead 
 drunk among their extinguished fires and empty bottles. The fete of the Seiior de lot 
 Temblores is ended. 
 
 As our review of ancient and modern Cuzco is ended also, Ave will at once mount 
 the mule which our Indian guide has brought and harnessed while the reader has 
 been amusing himself with these strange scenes, and leaving behind us the old capital 
 of the Incas, never to return, set off in a north-easterly direction, cross for the last time 
 the chain of the Andes, descend their eastern slopes, and enter upon the unknown 
 country we have proposed to visit. 
 
FIFTH STAGE. 
 
 CUZCO TO ECHARATI 
 
 (PERU). 
 
 VOL. I. 40 
 


 s£5§ i 
 
 VILLAGE OF MARA. 
 
 FIFTH STAGE 
 
 CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 A few words about the road which leads from Cuzco to the Pampas of Anta. — Proof that a confidential servant 
 may be at the same time a rogue, a gourmand, and an impostor. — The clouds of heaven. — Day-dreams of the 
 traveller on arriving at Mara. — Intervention of Ahriman and Ormuzd apropos of a cake of chocolate. — The 
 duty of forgiviug aud forgetting offences. — The goddess of Pintobamba. — Souvenirs and silhouettes. — The ravine of 
 Occobamba. — Here lies a noble heart. — Bird's-eye view of the ruins of Ollantay-Tampu. — The record and the 
 tragedy. — The traveller who had counted on dessert with his dinner gets nothing but dry bread. — Pass (port or 
 natural road) of the Cordillera of Occobamba. — Poetic monologue interrupted by a thunder-clap. — Philosophic 
 reveries in a shady path. — Arrival at Occobamba. — The traveller invokes the aid of Justice, represented by an 
 alcalde. — Judgment aud execution done on Jose Benito. — To what lengths will go a mother's love. — Description 
 of a fountain. — A shoulder of mutton. — The author is compelled to make his own soup. — The alcalde and his 
 two better halves. — Essay upon local topography. — A dinner at Mayoc. — The bill to pay. — What it costs to talk about 
 marriage with widows of a certain age. — Idyl in imitation of Theocritus. — Mctarie and chickens at Unupampa. — 
 Hacienda de los Camolcs, or Farm of Sweet Potatoes. — Etymology not always common sense. — Something that recals 
 Baucis aud Philemon of classical memory. — Sta, viator! — Hospitality of a • storekeeper. — Portrait in pastel of a 
 grand lady. — The hacienda of Tian-Tian aud its major-duorao. — Dissertation upon the Theobroma Cacao. — Ornithology. 
 — For want of a clean shirt the author bids adieu to the illusions he had cherished. — Varied aspects of the 
 landscape.— Exploring too curiously the centre of a flower, the author's nose is seized by a pair of pincers. — The 
 hacienda of La Chouette. — The Hibiscus mutabilis. — Conversation through the laths of a venetian-blind. — The forsaken 
 
31 6 PERU. 
 
 one. — A flower which is white in the morning, red at noon, and purple in the evening. — Sor Maria de los Angeles. — 
 The means by which a man may be compelled to keep a secret. — Biography and physiology of four young girls. — 
 The traveller sups enfamille with the governor of Chaco. — At Echarati. 
 
 The road from Cuzco to the valleys of Lares and Oceobamba passes diagonally through 
 the city and climbs the heights, while it traverses the quarter of Santa Ana, which is 
 echeloned upon a steep slope. This quarter, a broad and long street of sordid huts 
 and beer-houses, is entrenched between the mountains of Sapi and Picchu, each having 
 its special title to celebrity. From the flanks of the first runs a mountain stream, the 
 Huatanay, which serves as the main sewer to the city; on the plateau which crowns the 
 second, on a spot which is now marked by three wooden crosses, the trunk and bowels 
 of the cacique Tupac Amaru, who was dismembered by a decree of the supreme court 
 in the great square of Cuzco, were burned by the hangman on the 18th May, 1781. 
 
 After a glance to the right at the source of the Huatanay, and a tear on the left to 
 the memory of the unhappy cacique, the traveller continues his route. Arrived at the 
 summit, he turns again to view in its ensemble the panorama of Cuzco, and perhaps to 
 seek among the houses of the city a known dwelling, in order to salute it with a last 
 adieu. Then, having paid this tribute to curiosity, to art, to affection, or it matters not 
 to what sentiment may fill the heart at this supreme moment, he climbs the last 
 gradient of the steep mountain, and finds himself in the plain known as the Pampas 
 of Anta. 
 
 This plain, of about GO miles in circumference, is elevated about 14,000 feet above 
 the level of the sea. Its soil, formed of sand and vegetable mould, and carpeted with 
 short grass, is furrowed in some places with deep ruts, and divided in others by ravines 
 and swamps; clumps of Erolvulus and purple sage, the thorny Oenothera, and a few 
 Synantherece enamel with rare flowers this dull landscape, from which life and movement 
 appear to be banished. No bird wings the air, no insect chirrups in the grass; the 
 whole landscape seems dead or asleep, and over it the vast cupola of heaven sometimes 
 spreads a luminous blue, but more often an ashen-gray vault, flecked with sombre clouds. 
 
 Nine o'clock was sounding from all the clocks of the city when I entered upon this 
 Pampas of Anta. A mozo followed me at a distance, in the double character of 
 a domestic and a guide, as far at least as the limit where civilization ends and bar- 
 barism commences. He had been picked up on the loose by my hostess, who had 
 wished me to leave to her the care of seeking for this pearl in a dunghill. I say dung- 
 hill, because these hired mozos are in general nothing better than rogues who pass their 
 time in gambling in the cabarets, unless by chance they are employed in something 
 worse ! 
 
 The physique of the one selected for me was far from resembling that assemblage of 
 thirty perfections so complacently enumerated by the Persian poet. He was either old 
 or prematurely aged. He had a flattened nose, an immense mouth, and a face as full of 
 holes as a skimmer, from the small-pox; while his colour, naturally pale, looked livid in 
 contrast with his black, greasy, and shining hair. Such a face, as the reader may judge, 
 was far from attractive; but the moral perfections of the individual guaranteed by my 
 landlady might be expected to efface very soon the disagreeable impression made upon 
 
M \RCOY 
 
 N?n 
 
 * 3 arthnlomanEdiaf 
 
 BIACKIE & EC:. ASGOW& EDINBURGH 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 317 
 
 me by his personal appearance. To believe the good lady, her protege possessed 
 innumerable qualities, and many little talents de societe, which made him a most 
 desirable companion for a traveller like myself. 
 
 As he had only been in my service since the previous evening, and very few words 
 had yet passed between us, it occurred to me on entering the Pampas of Anta that 
 I would make myself better acquainted with him. To my questions about his name, 
 his family, and the place of his birth, he replied that his name was Jose Benito, that 
 he had never known the authors of his being, and that he knew not in what village of 
 Peru he first saw the light; cm reste, all this had not prevented him from growing and 
 getting on without any one's help, and reaching the age of forty, without feeling the 
 burden of his years. This complete absence of moral antecedents and certificates of 
 good character in the man who was to be my travelling companion, and to share in my 
 future joys and sorrows, surprised me a little, I confess, but did not shock me half as 
 much as might have been expected. I said to myself, after reflection, that one might be 
 a mere outcast, owe his very existence to public charity, have no shirt, no fire, no corner 
 to lie down in, and, notwithstanding all that, have one's heart in the right place, and hold 
 one's head high, thanks to the influence of some kindly star that ruled at one's birth. 
 
 I know not if the mozo had divined the thoughts which his confidence awakened, 
 and if he interpreted them to his disadvantage ; but observing that I kept silence, he 
 asked if I repented having taken him into my service. 
 
 "On the contrary, I am quite charmed," I replied. 
 
 And to prove what I said, I pretended that the fresh air of the heights had given me 
 an appetite, and I should not be sorry to break a crust, and wash it down with half 
 a glass of wine. This I meant as a decent pretext for sharing my bread with the fellow, 
 and drinking a sociable glass with him. In travelling, the brotherly love recommended 
 in the gospel is more than a virtue, it is a necessity. Jose Benito, in his character of 
 domestic, understood what he had to do, and untying the bag of provisions which I 
 had given into his charge, presented it to me. I put my hand in, expecting to find, with 
 the bread of Oropesa, provided by my hostess, some sticks of chocolate which I had 
 expressly requested her to put up. I found the bread, but no chocolate. 
 
 "The old idiot!" I exclaimed. 
 
 "Has not monsieur found what he wanted ?" demanded the mozo. 
 
 "No," I said, "I begged my landlady to give me a supply of chocolate, and she has 
 forgotten it." 
 
 "It's always the way with women; it is very tiresome for monsieur, though, that he 
 should have to eat his bread dry." 
 
 "Ah, well! I shall dine all the better for it at Urubamba," I rejoined. 
 
 In fine, I divided the larded bread, and gave half of it to my guide. The grateful 
 manner in which he thanked me for so simple a thing gave me a good impression of his 
 character. As a proof of his good manners, he fell behind again, in order, said he, that 
 the master and the servant might not seem to be eating out of the same dish. 
 
 "This fellow is perfectly Avell bred," I thought. 
 
 Five minutes afterwards, having finished mv bread. I pulled rein, and turned round 
 
318 PERU - 
 
 to ask for something to drink, when I saw the mozo in the act of nibbling something 
 long and brown, which he whisked out of sight on seeing with what a fixed look I 
 regarded him. Quick as he was, however, I had time enough to recognize in what he 
 was eating a stick of chocolate. 
 
 "This is strange," I said, sotto voce, "T wonder if it is at his expense or mine that he 
 is regaling himself." 
 
 Seeing me halt, the mozo understood that I had need of his services, and hastened up. 
 
 "Give me a flask of Madeira out of the saddle-bag," I said. 
 
 He immediately handed me what I asked for. The lightness of the flask, into which 
 I was certain I had emptied a whole bottle of wine, caused me to hold it up to the light, 
 when I saw that it was half-empty. 
 
 "Jose Benito," I thought, "must have drunk my wine as well as eaten my 
 chocolate." 
 
 This doubt, or rather certainty, caused me to change countenance in such a way that 
 the mozo observed it. 
 
 "Has monsieur forgotten something again?" he asked me with an air of solicitude. 
 
 The impudence of the vagabond disgusted me. 
 
 "I had forgotten to tell you when we started," I replied, "that I had filled this 
 flask with wine, and although I have not tasted a drop, it is already half-empty." 
 
 "Does monsieur believe me capable of meddling with his provisions'? It would 
 be extremely painful to me if he could think so." 
 
 "This flask, however, could not have emptied itself. I recollect having corked it 
 with great care." 
 
 No doubt I had stupidly furnished the mozo with the means of rebutting my 
 argument; he turned and turned again in his saddle, and feeling the woollen saddle- 
 cloth, said: — 
 
 "On the contrary, monsieur must have corked it very badly, for my saddle-cloth 
 is quite wet." And as he said so, he put his hands to his nose to smell an imaginary 
 odour. For my part I felt the bags, through which the liquid must have run before 
 it could have wet the saddle-cloth, and they were perfectly dry. I returned the flask 
 to Jose without putting it to my lips; its contents were not now to my taste. 
 
 "Decidedly," I said to myself, "this fellow is a thief, a liar, and a gourmand, three 
 vices which I might tolerate perhaps in a domestic, but which I detest in a travelling 
 companion, whom I calculated on making my friend." 
 
 Thereupon I urged on my mule, and taking deep draughts of the fresh air, I 
 watched the rounded clouds which flew across the sky before a north-east wind. 
 It is in some degree with me a monomania, but at the same time a great resource to 
 watch the clouds on critical occasions. If the study does not always console me for 
 the mischances of life, it helps me to forget them for a moment, and by exalting my 
 imagination, softens my heart. Ah! if all the clouds that have long since returned 
 to the sea, the lakes, and the rivers, could take a body and a voice, and relate the 
 troubles I have confided to them in the course of my life, what a fine treatise on 
 psychology might be written on their evidence! 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI 321 
 
 The Pampas of Anta, which it was necessary to cross from north-east to south-east 
 to reach Urubamba, present absolutely nothing to interest the traveller if he is merely 
 a botanist, a geologist, or a collector of insects ; but should he possess, in only a small 
 degree, the delicate fibre, the tender heart, and the kindling imagination of the day- 
 dreamer, he may people this cheerless solitude with the most fantastic and charming 
 creations. I will not, however, dwell on the thoughts which occupied me during the 
 three hours spent in crossing this desert, until the moment when the village of Mara 
 appeared at the end of the perspective. 
 
 Mara, which Ave passed on our left without stopping, is a village containing about 
 two hundred cabins; it has no resources except the salt-pits in the neighbourhood, 
 which the inhabitants work as well as they can, but without raising themselves above 
 a condition of extreme poverty. Their huts are built of mud, and thatched with stubble 
 or branches covered with clay by way of cement, and looking at a distance like mole- 
 hills. No vegetation clothes the soil; water fit to drink is unknown; and from June 
 to October, the period of winter in the Cordillera, frightful tempests rage every day 
 around this wretched hamlet, where the blackest spleen seems to have taken up her 
 abode. 
 
 From Mara to the extremity of the plateau of Anta, where it faces Urubamba, is 
 rather less than three miles. The locality itself has nothing to arrest the traveller's 
 attention; but the horizon even here displays some curious and magnificent scenes. 
 Beyond the Pampas, carpeted by short grass, rises tier above tier an amphitheatre of 
 mountains, falling back in stages, and crowned, as with a diadem, by the serrated 
 ridge of snowy peaks. Three white-headed giants, the Illahuaman, the Malaga, and 
 the Salcantay, proudly overlook, from a height of some thousand feet, this part of the 
 Sierra of Huilcanota. 
 
 On reaching the end of the plateau, which terminates in an abrupt talus, I looked 
 out upon the immense landscape commanded by this spot, Couched between the 
 foot of the wall, of which I occupied the summit, and the amphitheatre of mountains 
 which rose before me, lay the valley of Urubamba, extending on my right into the 
 bluish haze of the perspective, losing itself on my left in the gorges of Silcay, and 
 comprising about sixty miles of cultivated country, through which the river Huil- 
 camayo, 1 now troubled and white with foam, now calm and of a limpid blueness, ran 
 its sinuous course. On the long and narrow carpet of this valley, where nature had 
 lavished every shade of green, three villages were discoverable, half-concealed by the 
 bosky foliage of pisonias, 2 sallows, and chilcas. 3 These villages were Urquillos with its 
 seigneurial hacienda, Huayllabamba with its square tower, and Yucay with its little 
 houses dotted on the hill-side. In their rear lay Urubamba, which its two -arched 
 bridge, its church isolated in the midst of a plaza, and its ghost of a fountain, pro- 
 
 1 This river, called the Hnilcamayo in the locality where it rises, ou the Eaya plateau, has borne successively the 
 names of the river of Quiquijana, Urcos, Calca, and Yucay, before reaching Urubamba. There it takes the name of that 
 city, which it again exchanges, some leagues further on, for that of the river of Silcay, under which name it enters the 
 valley of Santa Ana. 
 
 2 Erythrina Pisonia. 3 Ycrnonia serralxdoides. 
 
 41 
 
 VOL. I. ** 
 
322 PERU. 
 
 claimed the chief place of the province to any one who was ignorant of the fact that 
 Urnbamba has been dignified by the qualification Benemerita (well -deserving), and 
 that this qualification, conferred on it in 1839 by a decision of the congress of 
 Huancayo, and equivalent to a title of nobility, has raised the town to the rank of a 
 metropolis. 
 
 Around these villages, situated at a mile or two the one from the other, are 
 grouped many small houses, whose walls, whitened with lime and glistening with cactus- 
 gum, shine in the sun as if they were varnished. With their red tiles and their blue 
 or green shutters, these pretty cottages, surrounded with trees, shrubs, and flowers, 
 resemble at a distance the toy cottages and trees of children. Their whole ensemble, 
 clean, spruce, and sparkling, stands clearly out from the dark and velvety green of the 
 cerros, which ascend from stage to stage, like a gigantic staircase, to the limit of 
 eternal snows. 
 
 Quitting my post of observation, I began the descent of the winding road which 
 leads from the Pampas of Anta to the bank of the river. This road, rough-hewn at 
 first by some volcanic commotion, was subsequently enlarged and fashioned by the 
 Children of the Sun, who, from the period of Manco to that of Huayna Capac, that is 
 to say, for a period of 500 years, had used the valley which extends between Caycay 
 and Silcay as a pleasure resort, where they spent their fine summer days. For these 
 indefatigable pioneers, who could make a road 1500 miles long across the Andes, or 
 cut through sixty miles of granite to get a little pure water, the construction of this 
 spiral road was but child's play. It took me two hours to descend by it. 
 
 Arrived in the valley, I crossed the bridge, and found myself on the right bank 
 of the Huilcamayo, in an open space surrounded with cottages, somewhat dilapidated, 
 whose doors and windows were all fast shut. A solution of continuity purposely 
 contrived between these deserted dwellings permitted the road from Yucay and 
 Huayllabamba to make a junction with that of Urubamba, and facilitated communica- 
 tion between that city and the villages. Two sign-posts which stood facing one another, 
 and which were inscribed, the one on the right Via del Sur, the one on the left Via del 
 Norte, left no room for doubt in this respect. 
 
 As I halted to take a last look at places so dear to me, and which I was never 
 more to revisit, Jose Benito came up and waited a few steps off until I should be 
 pleased to proceed. Involuntarily my eyes were fixed upon him; the poor wretch 
 looked so contrite, so profoundly humiliated, that I could no longer harden my heart 
 against him. "That man," I said to myself, "most certainly repents of the wicked 
 action he has committed, and if I may judge from his countenance his soul is a prey 
 to remorse. If I should forgive him now?" "Take care," whispered my bad angel; 
 "the fellow's a knave, and his face is nothing but a mask; he has betrayed thy con- 
 fidence once, and will betray it again." "Jose Benito repents from the bottom of his 
 heart," softly murmured the voice of my guardian angel; "God forgives those who 
 repent — wilt thou do less than God? I know that the majority of thy fellow-creatures 
 are guided by other rules, but do not imitate them; forgive as thou hopest to be 
 forgiven; thy own heart will feel the lighter, and thy spirit be at peace with itself." 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 323 
 
 "Decidedly," I thought, "my good angel reasons well; let me grant him absolution for 
 his fault, that my Madeira wine and chocolate may not weigh upon his conscience." I 
 called Jose Benito. 
 
 "Henceforth," I said to him, "when you have a fancy for my provisions, instead of 
 eating them alone, tell me frankly, and we will share them together." 
 
 In a burst of grateful enthusiasm the mozo took my hand, which he kissed and 
 kissed again, calling me his little father (taytachay). As he was some ten or twelve 
 years older than myself, his gratitude seemed to me too expressive, and I withdrew 
 my hand which he had continued to hold in his. 
 
 We remounted our mules and trotted side by side like old friends. Both knowing 
 the road to Urubamba, we turned our backs on the Via del Stir, and followed without 
 hesitation the Via del Norte, which abutted on a long avenue of those pyramidal 
 sallows which we find in all the alamedas or public promenades of South America. 
 These trees, magnificently grown, form two rows like a wall of verdure, impenetrable 
 to the rays of the sun. Between the serried trunks of those on the left, I could see, 
 as through a grating, the serpentine windings of the Huilcamayo, whose course was 
 parallel to the road we were following, and could take in at the same time all the details 
 of its two shores. At the end of the avenue a whitened wall, blazing with sunlight, 
 showed where the promenade ended and the city commenced. I cannot remember 
 having seen in any city of the New World a paseo which, for the threefold advantage of 
 shade, quiet, and freshness, could be compared with that of Urubamba. 
 
 On leaving this avenue, in which no living creature had been visible, except a few 
 crested sparrows flying from branch to branch, I entered the city, and went to knock 
 at the door of the sub-prefect. This functionary had been long known to me, and the 
 family of his wife, no less than his wife herself, honoured me with their especial friend- 
 ship. Both families resided at Cuzco, and only visited Urubamba during one month 
 of the year. Our intimacy made it a duty to visit them as I passed, and say good-by. 
 At the moment when I called, the sub-prefect, dressed all in white like a West Indian 
 planter, was feeding his watch-dogs with his own hands. On perceiving me he left 
 his occupation, assisted me to dismount, and after giving me a warm welcome, drew 
 me into the salon and presented me to his wife, the Seilora Julia. That lady, whom 
 her numerous adorers called the Diosa de Pintobamba, from a coca-farm which she 
 possessed in the valley of Santa Ana, was a woman of remarkable beauty. The pure 
 oval of her face, its delicate and perfect lines, her magnificent hair, her carriage at once 
 proud, gracious, and rhythmical, recalling that of Venus in the groves of Carthage, by 
 which Pius iEneas recognized his divine mother, all perfectly justified the surname of 
 goddess which her admirers had given to Donna Julia, without consulting, let it be said, 
 her debonnaire husband, who, like our constitutional kings, reigned but did not govern. 
 
 She received me with a smiling air, and in the frankest manner shook my hand 
 in the English fashion, and motioned me to a seat near the sofa, where she herself 
 sat down in the attitude of Guerin's Dido. A marmoset with which she played 
 reminded me to a certain point of the young Ascanius which that painter has introduced 
 into his composition. Some townsfolk from Urubamba and friends from Cuzco were 
 
324 PERU. 
 
 telling her the news of the day. The conversation became general, we spoke of every- 
 thing and something besides. Then a merienda (luncheon), composed of slices of bread, 
 with bits of cheese, fruits, sweets, and liqueurs, was served, at the end of which I took 
 up my hat, and spoke of resuming my journey; but they snatched my hat out of my 
 hands, and drowned my voice with their outcries. The sub-prefect swore that he 
 would cut my mules' ears off if I did not promise to pass the evening and the night 
 under his roof. A beseeching look which I addressed to the Senora Julia found her 
 inflexible. 
 
 "You will not go this evening," she said to me, with that imperious little air which 
 beautiful women accustomed to see every one submit to them know how to assume. 
 
 "And why not?" I asked, in a tone which dissimulated my real feeling. 
 
 "Because it is my wish that you should stay." 
 
 "Nothing sweeter could be said to me," I replied, gallantly. 
 
 At the moment when I uttered to Donna Julia this rose-water insipidity, of which 
 I may here avow I had not thought one treacherous word, the caricature of Gavarni, 
 which has for its title Ce qu'on (lit et ce qu'on pense, came into my mind. Certainly 
 if the goddess of Pintobamba could have read my heart she would have been shocked 
 by the thought which the words only concealed at the moment when I flattered 
 her with this little madrigal. But happily as well as unhappily for the human race, 
 it is always the dupe of appearances. 
 
 The time passed merrily; fruits and sweets were eaten in such profusion, that when 
 the dinner-hour arrived the company went to table without an appetite. Towards 
 evening the ladies of Urubamba, showily dressed, dropped in on the arms of their 
 cavaliers. After the customary compliments, and exchange of healths between the 
 guests of the day and the new-comers, two guitarists, hired for the evening, posted 
 themselves in a corner, and the ball was opened by one of those local waltzes in which 
 the couples first set to partners, then strike hands, turn back to back and set again, 
 recalling by their curious evolutions those automatons of painted wood which Ave see 
 twirling about in Italian organs. To this waltz succeeded the characteristic dances of 
 the coast and the sierra; and as the "divine bottle" was kept going, and toasts continued 
 to be drank all the evening, the enthusiasm of the company by midnight exploded in 
 bursts like thunder. 
 
 Intending to depart at daybreak, I went to take leave of the Senora Julia and excuse 
 myself for retiring when the mirth of the company was at its highest. I begged her to 
 be my apologist to her husband, whom one of those indispositions which rendered 
 necessary a little sleep and a few cups of light tea had compelled to quit the room. I 
 concluded with a formal promise that I would write my news to the goddess of Pinto- 
 bamba, if permitted by Heaven to arrive safe and sound at the end of my journey. 
 Then as I saluted her and still held her hand, she called her confidential maid. 
 
 "Is the chamber of Don Pablo ready?" she asked. 
 
 "Si, Senora," 
 
 "Have you given to his servant the boxes of preserves for the journey." 
 
 " Si, Senora." 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 325 
 
 "That is well," she said, rising, "it is the duty of a hostess to see for herself that 
 the guest whom God has given her for a few hours wants nothing." She took my arm 
 and we left the salon. 
 
 According to the Spanish custom the sleeping chambers of the house, situated on 
 the grouud-floor, occupied the three sides of a large inner court which had been trans- 
 formed into a garden. Clumps of flowers, which bloomed marvellously in the climate 
 
 DRUBA5IBA, THE " WELL-DESERVIN g" CITY. 
 
 of Urubamba, white lilies and tuberoses, with Spanish daturas and jasmines, saturated 
 the atmosphere with their intoxicating perfume. The moon, round and full, rose at 
 this instant behind the snowy peak of the Illahuaman. One-half of the heavens was 
 in darkness and spangled with stars. Over the other half was spread a soft and 
 greenish light. The scene was one which spoke to the soul as the sweet perfume of 
 the flowers to the sense. The Sehora sighed. 
 
 "What a beautiful night!" she said, "I will pray God that you may have the same 
 during the whole course of your journey. And now adieu, Don Pablo, the best wishes 
 of friends you leave behind will accompany you in unknown scenes." 
 
 She quitted me to join her friends. The chola who had followed us showed me to 
 my chamber, and, wishing me a good night's rest, departed. The wish of the girl was 
 fulfilled, for I fell asleep almost as soon as I laid my head on the pillow. 
 
32G PERU. 
 
 At daybreak Jose" Benito came to awake me, and announced that our mules, ready 
 saddled, were waiting in the street. I dressed myself in haste, and an instant after we 
 were trotting down the Calle du Commerce, all the houses of which were still shut. 
 
 What memories I carried away with me ! This town, and its valley still buried in 
 sleep, and but dimly lighted by the first rays of the sun, had for a long time occupied 
 a large place in my heart and my spirit. Sweet episodes were awakened to life in my 
 memory by the morning light, and sung in my heart like a choir of birds. I passed in 
 review before my eyes, with that clearness of vision which men possess at certain times, 
 the faces of those whom I had loved or known during my various sojourns in this valley. 
 Each of its villages, from Caycay to Silcay, recalled a pleasure or a sorrow, a sweet or 
 a sad emotion. At this hour, I said to myself, my old canon of Taray was wont to open 
 the shutter of his bedroom, and show his head at the Avindow. While giving an eye to 
 his beloved flowers, he looked out in his large-lettered breviary the saint and the prayer 
 for the day, and commenced his devotions. Worthy man! I shall never help him again 
 to strike his carnations, and never again train the creepers round his arbour. At 
 a bound I passed in thought from Taray to Huayllabamba, to the sister of the cure— 
 a good woman, rather a grumbler, perhaps, and a little peevish, who passed her time in 
 feeding tarins and choclopoccochos, which she sold to fanciers when those little birds, 
 grown larger, were able to feed themselves. I had been one of her customers, once 
 even it chanced that I had to send from Cuzco a great cage full of these tame birds, 
 to which I had added an enormous bunch of Spanish jasmine. To prevent my flowers 
 suffering from the heat of the day, the Indian who carried them started on his journey 
 in the evening, and travelled during the night. Like the Myosotis (scorpion-grass) of 
 Caramanchel gathered by Ruy-Blas for Marie of Neubourg, my jasmine was calculated 
 to evoke in the sensitive soul a sweet remembrance of her absent country. Now, the 
 bouquet is but dust, and the soul has returned to God who gave it. 
 
 From Huayllabamba I descended in imagination to Yucay by green slopes and sandy 
 
 footpaths, until I seated myself in idea under the verandah of my friend Dr. T , who 
 
 had always welcomed me with open arms and a smile on his lips. Although he was 
 a native of Logrona, in Old Castile, he called me his compatriot from affection for 
 France, which he knew and spoke of with admiration. While we chatted about art, and 
 science, and the future, in the meanwhile enjoying the landscape, his three children 
 played around us, and mingled their joyous laughter Avith the reflections, often sad, 
 which the good doctor made upon life. Perhaps he had a presentiment of his ap- 
 proaching end. He died a death without a name, far from his family, and without any 
 suspicion of his state having reached them. During his agony, which lasted three days 
 and three nights, I never quitted his pillow, and performed for him the humblest offices. 
 Unable to speak — for he had bitten through his tongue — he tried to express his grati- 
 tude to me by his looks, and by the pressure of his hand. I closed his eyes, and with 
 my own hands wrapped him in his winding-sheet. While bidding him adieu in this 
 world, I have cherished the hope of finding him again in another and better one. 
 
 At some bow-shots from the hill of Yucay and the house of the doctor there stands 
 a chartreuse, half-hidden by the dense foliage of trees festooned with climbing plants. 
 
CTJZCO TO ECHARATI. 327 
 
 A neglected garden, knec-deep in grass, its apple-trees and peach-trees covered with 
 moss, adds to the mysterious sadness of this dwelling, where, for three weeks, I had lived 
 alone, botanizing in the daytime and writing at night, receiving no one and seeing no 
 human face but that of the old woman, an Indian, who prepared my daily meals. What 
 retreat so charming as that Thcbaid to hide from the eyes of all a first love or a last 
 grief! As for me, I had but peopled it with my dreams. 
 
 As we reached the extremity of the Calle du Commerce, the principal, or, I may say, 
 the only street of Urubamba, I tried to make out among the houses, painted a yellow 
 straw or yellowish pink colour, the residence of an honest woman named Lina Gregoria 
 Tupayachi, where I had once dined in company with a Spaniard named Pedro Diaz. 
 It would have given me much pleasure to have seen again my old hostess, who had 
 treated me like a prince, allowing me to eat my full of the peaches in her garden, and 
 giving my mule a good feed besides, and all for the sum of thirty-six sous (eighteen 
 pence). Phoenix of inn keepers! why was not thy gate open when I passed it for the 
 second time? how happy I should have been to offer thee the homage due to thy sex, 
 and to regale myself, after an interval of five years, with a second luncheon, to which the 
 sharp air of the morning and the poetical charm of memory would have given additional 
 value. But as I have said, it was early morning ; the well-deserving city had not yet 
 opened the shutters of its many-coloured houses, and Lina Gregoria Tupayachi, at the 
 instant Avhen my thought brushed her with its wing, was still asleep, buried up to the 
 nose in bed-clothes. 
 
 I vowed, however, to have my revenge at Occabamba. Near the ravine of that name 
 lived Pedro Diaz, whom I had accidentally encountered at Urubamba in the peach 
 season, one day when I was famishing, and knew not where I could get anything to eat. 
 That good fellow, taking pity on my distress, had conducted me to his friend Donna 
 Lina, and had decided, after some formal objections, to be my vis-d-ris at table, and 
 share the repast prepared for me. In order to acquit himself of the debt of gratitude 
 which he imagined he had contracted, he insisted on being my companion as far as Ollan- 
 tay-Tampu, the end of my journey. On the way, as we passed his house, he had invited 
 me to enter and rest a little while. There, between two little glasses of eau-de-vie, 
 offered with cordiality, he had initiated me into the secrets of his past, and the commer- 
 cial transactions of his present, life. Good Pedro Diaz, what a heart of gold was hidden 
 under his rude exterior! 
 
 As I approached Occabamba, all the incidents of our meeting and our journey 
 together returned as vividly as if they had happened the day before. Here I had lighted 
 a cigar; there I had stopped to collect a plant, or make a sketch; further on I had 
 written under the dictation of my companion some detail of local manners. 
 
 During an hour's march through the uncultivated lands and fields of rushes which 
 stretch between Urubamba and Occobamba, I was so absorbed in the memories of the 
 past that I scarcely replied by a monosyllable to the friendly advances of Jose Benito. 
 The mozo, finding his attempts at conversation useless, ended by dropping behind, and 
 leaving me to my retrospective meditations. We soon found ourselves in sight of the 
 ravine of Occobamba. 
 
328 PERU. 
 
 This ravine is a great notch or cleft, produced by some cataclysm, in the western 
 flank of the Cordillera of Huilcanota. It serves as a bed to the torrents of melted snow 
 which hurl themselves down from the peak of Malaga, and for a road to the muleteers 
 and llama herdsmen who go from Cuzco to the valley of Occobamba, situated on the 
 east of the same Cordillera. The wild accessories of this site are in harmony Avith the 
 troubled and icy waters which furrow the mountain. Blocks of freestone and granite, 
 detached from the mass of the Ancles by volcanic action, are scattered on every side. 
 Some arrested in their fall hang threateningly some hundreds of yards above the road, 
 seeming to the traveller as if they might any moment topple over and be his destruction. 
 The decomposition of the mineral, the detritus of lichen and mosses, and the dust borne 
 by the winds, had in the lapse of time filled the crevices and fissures of these blocks with 
 the vegetable mould in which a few Liliaceee and grasses had taken root. On lower 
 levels clumps of maguey 1 displayed their sword-like leaves by the side of innumerable 
 mullis 2 , whose gray steins, blotched with yellow patches, twined in and out among the 
 stones like monstrous boa-constrictors. 
 
 At the distance of a gun-shot from the ravine, a shelf of reddish coloured rocks 
 on the right of the road serving as a landmark, fixed definitively my recollections of 
 the topography of the site. The little house of Pedro Diaz should certainly be behind 
 these rocks, near two enormous blocks, between which I recollected having looked with 
 wonder on the foaming torrent. The sight of its liquid gauze, which the sun had 
 gloriously interlaced with bands of gold, combined in striking contrast with shades of 
 blue, had struck me as a remarkable effect of light, and I had preserved it in a corner 
 of my memory to be reproduced at need. 
 
 I found the little house where I looked for it, and the thread of smoke ascending 
 from its roof showed me that it was still inhabited. I called, "Pedro Diaz !" But there 
 was no response. I called a second time. Then a ragged native woman came out of 
 the house, and looked at me with astonishment. Aware that the Spaniard had neither 
 a pongo nor other servant at the period of my acquaintance with him, I thought his 
 affairs had prospered, or that, tired of the isolation in which he lived, he had decided to 
 take a housekeeper. 
 
 "Is your master at home ?" I asked of this woman. 
 
 "I have no other master but God," she replied. 
 
 "This, however, is the house of a Spaniard named Pedro Diaz?" 
 
 "He has been gone this two years." 
 
 "Gone! where is he gone to?" 
 
 "Not far from here; look there !" said the woman, pointing to a little heap of stones 
 surmounted with a wooden cross, on which hung some withered flowers, a few steps 
 from the house. 
 
 At a glance I recognized one of those tumuli under which the indigene buries all 
 that is mortal of his fellow-creatures. Still I doubted. 
 
 "Look you," said I to the woman, "the man I am asking for is the sportsman 
 Pedro Diaz, an old bearded Spaniard, who lived here alone for ten years." 
 
 1 Agave americana, the American aloe. 2 riper americanus, a plant of the pepper family. 
 
THE RATINE OF OCCOBAMIA. 
 
 42 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 331 
 
 "I understand/' she said; "you mean the runalorocuna 1 or the mochiganguero? as 
 we called him ; a settler who made bracelets and head-dresses of parrots' feathers, which 
 he hired out to our peons on fete-days. It was Juan, my husband, who dug the grave 
 for him, and I helped him to bury the poor body." 
 
 "And after that you took possession of the Spaniard's house, and perhaps of the 
 money he had saved?" 
 
 "Oh! as for the money," said the woman, "Juan spent that with his companions 
 without so much as buying me a new petticoat.'' 
 
 
 a^v> 
 
 A LLAMA DRIVER. 
 
 " What have you done with the Spaniard's parrots? At any rate you let them fly?" 
 
 "How silly!" said the woman, with an idiotic smile; "as they were fat and in 
 good condition, we cooked and ate them.'' 
 
 "Let us go!" I said to Jose Benito, who appeared to be amused with these details; 
 " I have nothing more to do here." 
 
 Our route now led along the bed of the ravine, wdiich took a serpentine course 
 over the mountain, and we commenced the ascent among the loose stones, which, as 
 the feet of our mules displaced them, rolled down behind us with a clatter that was a 
 little alarming. The road becoming more and more steep, more and more tortuous, 
 soon grew so narrow that we were obliged to proceed in line. Naturally, I let my guide 
 lead. The ascent was monotonous in the extreme, as the steep sides of the ravine entirely 
 concealed the landscape. Every turn we made only opened before us a perspective of a 
 few steps. The sun, which just now stood perpendicularly over this stony trench, pro- 
 duced a temperature like that of the Senegambia. Our mules began to breathe with such 
 difficulty that we were compelled to throw the bridle upon their necks and let them 
 
 1 Literally, the man with the parrots. 
 
 2 From mochiganga, masquerade ; mochiganguero, a maker or arranger of masquerades. 
 
332 
 
 PERU. 
 
 choose their own pace. No mule having only his own pleasure to consult in the matter 
 would go many steps, and ours had not forgotten this traditional custom of their family. 
 For two hours Ave crawled up the mountain at a crab's pace, streaming with perspiration. 
 A few whiffs of fresh air warned us that we were approaching the end of our troubles, 
 and soon afterwards we set foot on a softly undulating plain, cai-peted with short stubbly 
 grass. My first thought was to turn round in order to estimate the height of this 
 
 SWING-BRIDGE CONSTRUCTED OP OSIERS BETWEEN URUBAMBA AND OLL ANT A Y -T A M P 0. 
 
 Alpine summit, but from south to west, and from west to north, I could see nothing 
 but a line of perpendicular cerros, which I recognized after some examination as the 
 rear-buttresses of the Pampas of Anta which we had crossed that evening. 
 
 The path we first took to cross this desert plateau was a caravan-route leading 
 north-north-east. After a time the inclination to the north of this plateau became so 
 sensible that I could distinguish below on my left the rounded summits and the green 
 flanks of mountains. The further we advanced the wider grew the landscape and the 
 more distinctly the details stood out from the mass. In the midst of a confused inter- 
 section of wooded slopes, the white-washed walls of farm-houses surrounded with 
 orchards began to be visible. The silvery thread of a river meandered through this 
 landscape, and was lost on the horizon in a luminous haze. I recognized the river of 
 Urubamba. Not knowing exactly where we were, I had recourse to my guide, who 
 
C'UZOO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 333 
 
 told me that we were on the heights of Ollantay-Tampu. We soon reached the northern 
 extremity of the plateau, from which point, in the bottom of an immense circus sur- 
 rounded with the rough sides and sharpened summits of the mountain-buttresses, we 
 discovered the modern village of Ollantay, the ruins of Tampu, and the ancient quarries. 
 A torrent of melted snow which fell foaming from the heights gave animation and 
 variety to the landscape, now inundated with sunlight, and rolled on its noisy course 
 
 
 
 ■ 
 
 ■A' '■■■¥ w ^w ' 
 
 
 MUD-FORTRESS ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE II U I LC AM At O-URUBA Jl B A. 
 
 to the river, whose limpid calm made a striking contrast with the impetuosity of its 
 affluent. 
 
 On my first visit to Ollantay-Tampu, in company with the late Pedro Diaz, I had 
 seen from below, like the generality of visitors, the site which I now viewed from above 
 in the fashion of the vultures and eagles. The situation was so new, and the point of 
 view so original, that I felt a wish to profit by the one and reproduce the other. 
 Alighting from my mule I took my album and note-book, and seated myself on the 
 edge of the plateau. There, while pointing my chalks and possessing myself by 
 observation and thought of the scenes spread below me, I begged Jose Benito to take 
 our provisions from the bags and spread them on the grass, so that when my task was 
 ended I might have nothing to do but face about and enjoy my dinner. 
 
 The landscape spread before me embraced an extent of some forty or fifty miles, com- 
 
334 PERU. 
 
 prising the gorges of Silcay, the heights of Habaspampa, the haciendas of Tarontay, 
 Runura, Chilca, Tancac, Piri, and Pachar, as far as Urubamba. From north to south 
 a line of mountains with gentle slopes bounded the horizon; their foot bathed by 
 the river. As this panorama was too vast to be reproduced in its entirety, and as 
 the work of nature was of less importance at this moment than the work of man, 
 I turned from the landscape and its varied beauties, to occupy myself with the archi- 
 tectonic or ethnologic details which it might present. While thus occupied I mused on 
 the fate of poor Pedro Diaz, and how he had destroyed my archseologic illusions on the 
 subject of the pretended antique city of Ollantay, which upon the faith of a geo- 
 graphical treatise I had come a long distance to seek. 
 
 I recalled, as if it had been but yesterday, the strange bouleversement of all my ideas, 
 when my companion, spelling out the text and comparing it with the things themselves 
 on the spot, had demonstrated beyond all doubt that what I, in my ingenuous enthusi- 
 asm, had supposed to be polygons, columns, pyramidions, vaults, and caves, were 
 nothing more than the debris and other relics of the quarries worked by the Indians in 
 the time of the Gentilidad. From the complete disillusion which I had experienced 
 that day had resulted this, for me, axiomatic truth: that it is always imprudent to 
 believe a savant on his word; above all when your savant goes to bed at night an 
 entomologist and collector of insects, and rises in the morning an archaeologist and an 
 ethnographist, and what is still more, when he is hungering after celebrity. 
 
 When I had realized the good and bad in the general aspect of the Cerros of 
 Ollantay, the cavities and the architectural mockeries left by the quarrymen of old, and 
 made a sketch of the mud-fortress on the river side, I completed my work by a view 
 of the modern village and of the ruins of the ancient fortified tampu. This tampu 
 brought to my memory, with the chronicle relating to it, a tragedy written in the 
 Quichua language by Doctor Antonio Valdez. The story as handed down to our 
 time by means of the quipos of Peru is to the following effect. 
 
 In 1463, that is to say, twenty-nine years before the discovery of America, Tupac 
 Yupanqui, eleventh son of the Sun, and first-born in the descent of Capac-Ayllu-Panaca, 
 reigned over Peru. The death of his father had put him in possession of the vast 
 empire of the Incas, which at that time extended from the river Eapel (Chili) to the 
 boundary of the kingdom of Lican, now the republic of the Equator. Married to his 
 sister Mama-Chimpu-Ocllu, Tupac had by his wife and his numerous concubines 291 
 children, among whom were thirty-four legitimate sons, who lived at his court awaiting 
 the time when the crown should fall, by right of inheritance, to the eldest of them. 
 This eldest, named Huayna-Capac, was one day to become the father of Huascar and 
 Atahualpa, those rival princes the first of whom was assassinated by order of his 
 brother, and the second strangled by the hand of the executioner. 
 
 At this period the city of Cuzco, the capital of the empire, while preserving the 
 general character impressed upon it by Manco-Capac, its founder, in 1042, had been 
 embellished with several edifices during the successive reigns of nine Incas, the last 
 of whom, the same who restored the Temple of the Sun, had surrounded the city with 
 a loopholed wall. 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 337 
 
 Eeverting in imagination to those old times, and climbing the hill of Sacsahiiaman, 
 which the reigning Inca has crowned with a fortress (a singular work, in the form 
 of three half-moons, with battlements retreating one behind the other, and which 
 decreased in extent as they approached the summit of the eminence), we see at a glance 
 the buildings of the sacred city, and the details of their construction. From east to 
 west flows a broad and brattling stream, which divides the city into two parts, which 
 
 VILLAGE OF OLLANT A Y -TAMPO. 
 
 take their names from the inequality of the ground. The first, called Hanan, or the 
 higher city, is under the protection of the chief of the state, and is inhabited by the 
 poorer sort of people; the second, called Hurin, or the lower city, is presided over 
 by the empress, and there reside the great dignitaries, and consequently there are 
 also the principal edifices. 
 
 Chief among these in the north-east is the palace of Manco-Capac, built like an 
 acropolis on the summit of the Cerro of Totocachi. Its shape is that of an oblong 
 square. Its sloping walls, constructed in the fashion which the Greeks called isodomon, 
 are about 20 feet high, and one of its principal facades is opposite the Acllhuaci, 
 or house of the Virgins of the Sun (from which, however, it is separated by the 
 whole breadth of the city). On the left of this edifice stands the palace of Sinchiroca; 
 on its right, that of Mayta-Capac. The only openings in either of them are eight doors, 
 
 43 
 
338 PERU. 
 
 with inclined jambs in the Egyptian fashion, and four huecos, or square niches, resem- 
 bling windows. 
 
 By the walls of the palace of Mayta-Capac runs the Huatanay, a torrent which 
 descends from the height of the Quebrada of Sapi, and into which flows all the filth 
 of the city. Three bridges thrown over this torrent serve for communication between 
 the edifices on its left bank and the Temple of the Sun on its right, in the midst of the 
 Plain of the Thorn (Iscay-Pampa). 
 
 This temple, some 200 feet or more square, — with its quadrangular cloister, and its 
 several annexes sacred to the moon, the stars, the thunder, and the rainbow, its little 
 court decorated with fine fountains or lavatories, with its caryatides in relief more 
 Hindoo than Egyptian in style, the palace of the Villacumu or grand pontiff, adjoining 
 its walls, the residences of the priests and of the 3000 attendants attached to the worship 
 of the god, — this temple, I say, with its courts, its twelve monoliths serving as gnomons, 
 its aviaries and its menageries of ferocious animals, its well-filled stoi'e-houses and its 
 celebrated garden, presents such a conglomeration of buildings that it may be called 
 a city within a city. Opposite its principal front, surrounded by a wall about the height 
 of a man, is an open space (rond-point) dedicated to Venus or Coyllur Chasca, the star 
 with the streaming hair — so named from its rays; four streets, or rather galleries, 
 separated by walls so high that they intercept the heat and light, but allow the wind 
 to go sighing mournfully between them, debouch on the grand square of the city, which 
 serves as the place of rejoicings at the epoch of the equinoctial festivals Eaymi and 
 Citua. This open place, some 800 feet square, is surrounded on all sides by a granite 
 wall, pierced with 200 loopholes; while eight stone pillars, four large and four small, 
 connected by chains of gold, mark the centre. 
 
 Such is the coiqj-d'oeil presented by the lower city Hurin, placed as we have said 
 under the protection of the coya or empress. The higher city, Hanan, although under 
 the supervision of the chief of the state, is nothing but an agglomeration of sordid huts 
 with mud-built walls and roofs of stubble similar to the ranchos of the present day. 
 At some distance from these huts two buildings stand proudly apart, as if to shun 
 contact with the vulgar herd. One of them is the palace of the Inca Huiracocha, 
 situated between that of Manco-Capac and the House of the Virgins. The other is that 
 of Pachacutec, his son and successor, built on the flank of the hill of Amahuara, 
 whose summit is crowned by a menagerie of tigers which Yupanqui, the father of the 
 reigning Inca, has caused to be constructed. 
 
 Around the architectural parallelogram which Ave have hastily sketched extend 
 the public and private properties, consisting of patches of beans, batatas, quinoa, 1 and 
 maize. These growing crops, though weak and sickly-looking, enliven a little the neigh- 
 bourhood of the sacred city, to which its granite palace, roofed with stubble, and its 
 heavy earthen-coloured Avails, impart an aspect far from attractive. Beyond the plan- 
 tations a circular amphitheatre of lofty mountains Avith gently sloping sides and rounded 
 summits, their flanks clothed with a reddish-broAvn grass, bounds the horizon on every 
 side. Thus situated in the bottom of a funnel, of Avhich it occupies the centre, the City 
 
 1 Chenopodium Quinoa. 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATT. 339 
 
 of the Sun thoroughly justifies the epithet of Ccozcco (navel) which its founder gave 
 to it. 
 
 The Inca Tupac- Yupanqui is preparing to march into the province of Tumipampa, 
 in the hope of subduing the Charca Indians and adding their territory to his empire. 
 During his absence the care of the state will be intrusted to one of his uncles. In order 
 to appease the malevolent deities and insure success to the imperial arms, sacrifices 
 of chicha have been offered to the Sun, a hundred armfuls of maize-straw dyed red and 
 afterwards blackened in the fire have been buried in the fields, and more than a thousand 
 turkeys, speckled red and white, unmixed with any other colour, have been burned 
 alive at the threshold of the houses of the principal caciques during the night of 
 paneumu or expiation. 
 
 One morning when the Inca had returned from the temple, after having prostrated 
 himself before the embalmed mummies of his ancestors, who were placed in parallel 
 lines leading up to the altar, and in chronological order, his litter halted in the midst 
 of the great square, a few steps from the monolithic monument in its centre. If among 
 our readers there are any who wish to have some idea of the litter of an Inca in the 
 year of grace 14C3, we can satisfy their curiosity. Made of a fragrant wood presented 
 by the Chilcas as tribute, the litter is shaped like a hand-barrow. Four golden rods 
 as thick as one's finger rise from the angles, and being curved like the frame of a dais, 
 formed a dome, to which, in accordance with the temperature at any given time, or the 
 fancy of the emperor, can be fixed curtains of cotton. A seat and a footstool, orna- 
 mented with plates of gold and precious stones, are nailed down to the bottom of the 
 litter, which is carried upon their shoulders by eight powerful men of the tribe of 
 Lucanas. 
 
 Tupac- Yupanqui, seated upon this chair, with his feet upon the footstool, wears a 
 tunic of alpaca wool as white as snow, with a border of many colours. This article of 
 apparel, woven in the form of a sac, with an opening for the head and two openings 
 at the sides for the arms, is so short as to expose to view the golden genouilleres (knee- 
 pieces) worn by the emperor. His head-dress consists of a golden mitre ornamented on 
 each side with a sharp spur. It terminates in a notched crest not unlike the dorsal 
 appendage of an iguana, and upon its front is engraved the figure of Inti-Churi, the 
 god-sun. A fringe of wool, of a dull-red colour, falling over the forehead beneath this 
 curious diadem, and two bandelcttes hanging down to the shoulder, form cpiite a frame 
 round the emperor's face. This coiffure is completed by golden ear-rings. 
 
 The feet of Tupac-Yupanqui are protected by sandals of beaten gold, finished with 
 an ornament of red feathers above the ankles. From his left shoulder hangs a striped 
 mantle woven from the wool of vicugnas. A cord worn saltier-wise suspends his 
 chuspa or coca-bag, and the champpi or sceptre of sovereignty is held in his right 
 hand. 
 
 As to the emperor's person, notwithstanding our earnest desire to satisfy whatever 
 curiosity we may have awakened, it is impossible to give an exact idea, — the notes 
 extracted from the quipos, to which we are indebted for our details, not containing more 
 than four words on this subject. It is true that these four words are equivalent to 
 
340 PERU. 
 
 four lines: Sayaynin cumu cencca huarmicamayoc, which, being interpreted, signify 
 that our Inca was a man of lofty stature, with a robust figure and a long nose, and 
 that he was addicted to women — of which there can be no doubt, considering what a 
 numerous posterity he left behind him. 
 
 The royal litter is surrounded with a garde cVclite, composed of those curacas or 
 caciques whom the Spanish conquerors irreverently called "long-eared" (orejones), 
 under the pretext that the lobes of their ears rested on their shoulders. Four of these 
 dignitaries hold parasols of feathers (achihuas) over the emperor. In their suite come 
 musicians (collas), whose instrument is a flute or flageolet with five holes, on which they 
 play to the morions and buffoons of Huamanga, who perform the dances of their 
 country, pierce their tongues with needles, chew burning coals, or pretend to fight 
 grotesque duels. Behind this jovial crew walk gravely, their heads covered with a 
 woollen cloth dyed with the ayrampu (the purple of the Quichuas), the respectable 
 body of the Amautas — scholars according to some, philosophers according to others. 
 The Yaravicus or rhapsodists close the march singing in a loud voice the praises of 
 their master, whom in their hyperbolic verse they designate Pacliayachachic, that is to 
 say, " Universal Conqueror." 
 
 * At the moment when the litter of the Inca halts before the monolithic monument 
 in the grand square, iqjon which two Amautas seated astride like chimney-sweepers 
 upon the top of a chimney are in the act of calculating the approach of the equinox, 
 a man concealed behind the pillars, who had apparently Avaited there for the arrival 
 of the cortege, leaves his post, and advancing towards the emperor, prostrates himself 
 at a few steps distant, with his face to the earth. This man is clothed in a bine tunic, 
 his hair is cut square across his forehead and flows down upon his shoulders, a bit of 
 reed as thick as one's finger is passed through the lobe of his ears. Tupac, who is 
 occupied at the moment in preparing a chew of coca-leaves, from which he extracts the 
 longitudinal fibres with the greatest care, pauses in his work and extends towards the 
 suppliant his golden sceptre. He has recognized his cacique Ollantay, recently pro- 
 moted to the grade of general in recompense for his loyal services. 
 
 " Rise, my son," he said to him, " thou art one of the faithful who rejoice our sight, 
 and whom we love to see around us." 
 
 Ollantay rises, comes three steps nearer, and stands before his master with his 
 hands crossed upon his breast in the attitude of profound respect. 
 
 " Speak," said the Inca. 
 
 "Son of the Sun," replies Ollantay, "I was once only an obscure Indian of the 
 Poque nation, condemned by thy ancestors to wear no other ornament than a tress of 
 white wool in the ear. It has pleased thee to promote me to the tribe of the Tampus, 
 and to exchange that ornament of wool for one of totora (reed). For that distinguished 
 act of favour I owe thee thanks!" 
 
 " Proceed, my son," said the emperor, adding a few more leaves to the large ball 
 of coca which he had put in his mouth. 
 
 " Son of the Sun," continued the cacique, " thy supreme will has made of me 
 successively a free man, a noble cacique, an illustrious general " 
 
ISCA AND COTA (EMPEROR AXD EMPRESS), ATTENDED BY THEIR CCUUILLU, OB DEFORMED DWAl.l. 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 343 
 
 " He whom we call Churi (the Sun)," replied the Inca, "ordained that Manco-Capac, 
 his first son, should honour the man of merit, and put far from him the idle and base, 
 whom he stigmatized with the epithet of Misqui-tullu, 1 in order to make an example 
 of them. As a descendant of Manco-Capac, it is my duty to act upon his sacred 
 maxims." 
 
 "To prove my gratitude," pursued Ollantay, "I have devoted myself, soul and body, 
 to thy service. I have helped thee in turn to conquer the provinces of Huancrachuca, 
 of Cassamarquilla, of Huilcanota. 
 
 " Thou hast forgotten the last," said the emperor, looking attentively at his favourite, 
 " that of Cunturmarca, where thou receivedst in thy own breast the stone from an 
 invisible sling which had been destined for me." 
 
 " Thy servant had forgotten it, in fact," said the cacique. 
 
 " But the Son of the Sun remembers it well, and would fain acquit himself of the 
 debt. What is it you would request of our divine favour?" 
 
 " Inca," said Ollantay, in a low and almost suppliant voice, " my heart and my 
 senses have been taken captive by the beauty of one of thy daughters. ..." 
 
 At these words the emperor rises so suddenly from his golden seat that the bearers 
 of the litter are taken by surprise, and the litter and the emperor are rolled in the dust. 
 
 "In the name of Pachacamac, the invisible lord of the universe, explain thyself, 
 miserable wretch ! " 
 
 Without shrinking from the wrath of the crowned god, Ollantay, who was no 
 doubt ready to sacrifice his life, continued — 
 
 " Thy daughter Cusi-Coyllur has deigned to look even upon thy slave. A flower 
 of amancaes, which she sent me, has revealed the secret of her heart." 
 
 "Infamous girl!" cried the emperor, hiding his visage in the folds of his mantle, 
 "and the Sun from which she is descended has not consumed her! . . . She dies!" 
 
 " Spare thy daughter," earnestly replied the cacique. " Cusi-Coyllur is not in fault, 
 and if one of us must die, let it be me, who am not to be her husband." 
 
 "Her husband!" cried Tupac-Yupanqui, in whom the pride of the king stifled the 
 regrets of the father. " Thou hast dared to dream, then, of mixing thy slavish blood 
 with that of the Children of the Sun, and thou thinkest that the descendant of the 
 great Manco-Capac, the divine Emperor of Cuzco, could condescend to that shameful 
 union, and give his own offspring to a Poque Indian, whom he has raised from the 
 dirt! By the race from which I am descended, I could laugh at thy monstrous preten- 
 sions, if they were not an outrage upon the dignity of the Sun. Away with thee, serpent, 
 whom we have warmed in our bosom; thy presence taints the air we breathe. To-morrow 
 the chastisement which we hold in reserve for thee shall be the talk of every province 
 in our dominions!" 
 
 The imperial cortege resumed its march, to the sound of flutes and the cries of 
 the buffoons, who recommenced their dances. 
 
 Ollantay, rendered desperate, abandoned that very evening the city of Cuzco, and 
 took refuge in the tampu which the emperor had authorized him to build in the valley of 
 
 1 Lazy-bones; literally, sugared bones. 
 
344 PERU. 
 
 Yucay-Urubamba, then inhabited by the Poque nation, to which the cacique belonged. 
 His first care on arriving was to despatch a messenger to his allies the Pirahuas and 
 Ayquis. This messenger was the bearer of yellow and black quipas, which recounted 
 the disgrace of the favourite and the sorrows of the lover, and concluded by a call 
 to arms. Two clays after the return of the messenger, ten thousand Indians, armed 
 with lances and slings, occupied the heights above the tampu, and only awaited the 
 order of Ollantay to march on Cuzco. 
 
 On hearing the news of these warlike preparations, Tupac, trembling for the safety 
 of his throne, was about to send his heralds, charged to negotiate an accommodation 
 with the rebel cacique, when one of the emperor's generals conceived the idea of 
 stifling the nascent revolt by a stratagem, which succeeded to a marvel. Whether 
 or not he took any one into his confidence is not recorded, but the circumstances of 
 the story require us to believe that he kept his own counsel, and risked everything to 
 accomplish his design. However this may be, Rumiiiahui, for so was this wily Indian 
 named, scaled the walls of the Palace of the Virgins, and penetrated as far as 
 the last coiu*t of the women's quarters. The priestesses of the Sun, terrified by 
 this audacious invasion, aroused with their cries the guardians of the night, who 
 seized Rumiiiahui and arraigned him befox-e the Villacumu, or grand priest, who filled 
 also the office of judge. The Peruvian laws condemned to death any one who dared 
 to enter the House of the Virgins, and the attainder extended to the second genera- 
 tion of the guilty person's family. As to the woman whose complicity in such a 
 crime was proved, the statutes of 1042 condemned her, like the Roman vestals, to 
 be buried alive. Rumiiiahui, being questioned as to the motives of this sacrilege, 
 replied that curiosity to see the rich ceilings of the edifice had caused him to scale 
 the walls; and as he had not even spoken to one of the Virgins, he could not, without 
 injustice, be condemned to death. The sentence, in fine, was commuted to a public 
 flogging, followed by the loss of all his honours. The next day Rumiiiahui disappeared 
 from Cuzco, and took refuge in the tampu of Ollantay, offering to join the latter in 
 avenging their common wrongs. 
 
 Ollantay having been informed of what had passed by his allies or spies in the 
 city, received the fugitive with joy as a powerful auxiliary. During eight days the 
 two men lived together in the most affecting intimacy. At the end of that time 
 Rumiiiahui, profiting by the topographical knowledge he had acquired of the tampu, 
 and the confidence of his host, opened the gates of the fortress to the Inca, and 
 delivered Ollantay to him bound hand and foot. 
 
 The vengeance of Tupac -Yupanqui was noble and generous. He restored the 
 rebel cacique to his former dignities, and gave him his daughter in marriage. The 
 fruit of their love was a daughter, who bore the name of Ima-Sumac. 
 
 As to Rumihahui, nothing is said of the manner in which the emperor Tupac, 
 whom he had so well served, recompensed his infamous devotion. Everything leads 
 one to believe that his treacherous conduct was forgotten in the midst of the general 
 
 joy- 
 To this already too tedious chi-onicle we will not be so cruel to the reader as to 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 345 
 
 add the tragedy which it inspired the poet Antonio Valdez to write. It will be 
 sufficient to give the title and dramatis personal of this performance, which is in 
 octo-syllabic verse : — 
 
 THE SEVERITY OF A FATHER 
 
 AND THE 
 
 GENEROSITY OF A KING. 
 
 A TRAGEDY IN ONE ACT, INTERSPERSED WITH SINGING, MCSIC, AND DANCING. 
 
 Persons Represented : 
 
 r.u-HACl'TEC, grandfather of the reigning king. 
 Tupac-Yupanqi I, the reigning Inca. 
 Ollantay, general of the district of Antisnyu. 
 RUMINAHUI, general of the district of Hanansnyu. 
 ORCCO Huarancca, a general. 
 Huilccaoma, priest of the Sun. 
 Hanco-Allin-Al'qui, an old man. 
 
 Pitu-Salla, a young man. 
 
 Piqui-Chaqui, a confidential servant. 
 
 Cusi-CoYLLUR, a princess, daughter of Tupac- Yupanqui. 
 
 Ima-Sdmac, a child, daughter of C'usi-Coyllur and Ollantay. 
 
 Ccaca-Mama, first old woman. 
 
 CCOTAC, second old woman. 
 
 An Indian in the official employ of the Canari tribe. 
 
 Scene— the City of Cuzco. 
 
 As I finished writing the word " Cuzco," I turned round to see if Jose Benito had 
 set within my reach the luncheon, of which I felt myself greatly in need, but I saw 
 nothing. The mozo, quietly seated a few steps off, was cutting the bark from a piece 
 of wood with his knife. 
 
 " How about my lunch?" I asked him. 
 
 He rose and took out of the provision-bag a little stale loaf and brought it to me, 
 with a box of preserves. As I began eating the bread I opened the box, expecting 
 to find those preserved fruits, in the preparation of which the housewives of Cuzco so 
 greatly excel. Instead of this expected treat, I found nothing but their cores, their 
 pips, and their stalks, half-drowned in a sea of syrup. Without thinking any evil, I said 
 to the mozo: — 
 
 "This box is empty, give me another." 
 
 " There is not another," he replied. 
 
 "What, not another] Is that all that was given to you for me at Urubamba?" 
 
 "That is all that madame the sub-prefect gave me for monsieur." 
 
 I looked steadily at Jose Benito, trying to read his thoughts. Evidently the 
 vagabond was lying again, and mocking me, notwithstanding that his countenance 
 expressed the most touching innocence and candour. Certainly the Signora Julia would 
 not have given him in the name of provisions for my journey a nearly empty box 
 of preserves. The goddess of Pintobamba was too much of a lady to act in that way, 
 and it was not likely when we were parting never to see each other again she would 
 have treated me so vilely. 
 
 The result of these reflections, which passed through my brain in much less time 
 than I have taken to write them, was that I had to deal in Jose Benito with one 
 of those innately vicious and absolutely incorrigible natures upon which reasoning 
 and good advice leave no more trace than a drop of water on a duck's back. I did 
 not now raise my eyes to heaven to confide to its clouds the new deception of which 
 I was the victim; but, to escape from the temptation of laying heavy hands upon the 
 worthless fellow, whose coolness exasperated me, I rose up quickly, shut my album, 
 
 VOL. I. 44 
 
346 PERU. 
 
 which I put into my vali.se, and thrusting my bread into my pocket, I re-mounted 
 my mule and ordered the mozo to go on first. 
 
 "Monsieur speaks very harshly," he said with a gentle sigh; "is it because he 
 suspects me to-day of having eaten his preserves, as he suspected me yesterday of 
 eating his chocolate and drinking his wine?" 
 
 "There, shut up!" I said to this vulgar Tartuffe; "go on before me and show 
 me the way, and until we get to Occabamba dare not to say another word ; the sound 
 of your voice is an outrage, and more than my nerves can bear." 
 
 "Am I so unhappy!" he murmured, as he pushed on his mule some steps in 
 advance. 
 
 Seeing nothing but the back of the vagabond instead of his horrid countenance 
 my wrath gradually abated. My little loaf, which I took from my pocket and finished 
 to the last mite, in appeasing my hunger restored its wonted calm to my spirit. ISTo 
 doubt the stomach has an occult influence on our secret deliberations. I was now 
 able to reflect upon the situation and come to a rational conclusion. To provide for 
 my journey the goddess of Pintobamba had given the fellow a dozen boxes of 
 preserves. Each of these boxes weighed nearly three pounds, and in the short space 
 of five hours, since noon, it was impossible that the stomach of Jose Benito, had it 
 been more elastic than that of a boa-constrictor, and greedier than that of an ostrich, 
 could have swallowed up thirty-six pounds of preserved fruits. The wretch must 
 have hidden them on the road, perhaps in the hole of a rock or under some shrub, 
 in order to pick them up on his return, to sell them at Cuzco or regale his friends 
 and acquaintances. Fortunately I was bound by no contract to the rascal, and at the 
 first opportunity could send him adrift. 
 
 My mind being made up, I turned my thoughts to the surrounding landscape, 
 the aspect of which was very far from being cheerful. On our departing from the 
 place where I had made a sketch of OUantay-Tampu, we had headed east-north-east, 
 and to cross the plateau had taken a road which led us to the pass (port). In the 
 country every place is called a pass (puncii), by which it is possible to pass from 
 the western side of the Andes to the eastern. These passes — roads, traced by nature 
 — are of rare occurrence, each valley of the east only possessing one of them, so that 
 there is no alternative route. 
 
 The almost straight line that we were following rose higher and higher for about 
 two hours, at the end of which time we reached the superior limit of the plateau, 
 inclined, as I have said, from east to north. We then began to cross a winding road 
 traced by the feet of baggage mules and horses, across a region of low hills. The 
 ground was carpeted with a short and thick-set grass, the colour of which, a greenish 
 blonde, harmonized wonderfully well with the blue of the sky. The complete solitude, 
 the profound silence, gave to this mountainous region a grand and almost solemn 
 character; and looking along its level, at first almost flat, then gradually rising towards 
 the east, I discovered the pass of the Cordillera, whose snowy summits dominated 
 the landscape on my right and left. The region of hills terminated in a kind of broad 
 causeway, the end of which was lost in a thick mist, through which there were 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 347 
 
 occasional flashes of lightning, accompanied by the distant rumbling of responsive 
 thunder. 
 
 As we drew near these Alpine fogs, which I compared poetically to the smoking 
 vapours of Avernus, or of Stymphalus, I observed that Jose Benito, who had kept 
 some paces in advance, checked the pace of the mule, as if to give me time to come 
 up with him. As I did so, he said furtively — 
 
 " Although monsieur has forbidden me to speak to him," at the same time touch- 
 
 •■:■.. 
 
 
 %i^o 
 
 ASCENT OF HABASPAMPA, ON THE EOAD TO THE PASS IN THE COKDILLEBA OF OCCOBAMBA. 
 
 ing his hat, " I believe it my duty to inform him that we are approaching the pass 
 of the Cordillera of Occobamba." 
 
 "And then?" I said, pretending to look elsewhere. 
 
 "Having passed the picncu," continued the mozo, "we shall have to go three 
 miles to reach Lacay, and a mile or two further to Sayllaplaya." 
 
 "Well, and then?" 
 
 "The village of Occobamba is then twelve miles distant. As monsieur's guide, 
 I thought it my duty to give him this information." 
 
 "Thank you," I said, dryly. 
 
 Thereupon, pulling the bridle of my mule, and forcing the animal to stop, I made, 
 the mozo understand that it was my intention to maintain henceforth between him 
 
348 PERU. 
 
 and me a distance at the least respectful. He guessed my thought, and went on 
 with a heavy sigh, which he supposed ought to excite my pity. 
 
 For a moment, when he had passed on, I could not help smiling; but imme- 
 diately afterwards I said to myself, "Impudent canaille! telling me his duty as my 
 guide, while he robs me, leaves me without a bit to eat, and lies with unparalleled 
 effrontery! Make your mind easy, my friend," I added, "when we get to Occobamba 
 I'll take care to remind you of your duty!" 
 
 This incident having passed, I resumed my observations. To the broad causeway 
 which we were ascending succeeded a deep road, a sort of groove cut in the carboni- 
 ferous sandstone of the mountain. The mist growing thicker as we proceeded, crept 
 over the soil and seemed to hook itself on to the roughnesses of the rocks like a 
 spider's web, until at length it completely obscured the sky. The depth of the dismal 
 perspective, which assumed a brownish tint, was continually lighted up by ghastly 
 electric flashes, accompanied by mutterings of thunder more and more distinct, more 
 and more threatening, in an almost supernatural manner. One might have supposed 
 the scene to be laid in one of those early geological epochs when our globe, a prey 
 to the convulsions of the igneous matter in fusion in its bosom, was suffering the 
 prelude, in darkness and mystery, to some painful birth. Every moment I expected 
 to see this curtain of foreboding vapour rent from top to bottom, and some strange 
 formation revealed to me. " What a loss," I said to myself, " that the old Ghibelin, 
 who saw so many things with the eye of the dreamer, had not seen with the eye of 
 reality this pass of the Cordillera of Occobamba! What a magnificent use he would 
 have made of such a site; what supernatural episodes he would have introduced! 
 For never was the portico of hell so sublimely pictured to the imagination of an 
 apocalyptic poet — never was a scene so well calculated to represent the dark and 
 terrible road which must needs lead to the realm of shadows and of horrors without 
 a name!" 
 
 " Through me you pass into the city of woe ; 
 Through me you pass into eternal pain ; 
 Through me among the people lost for aye!" 
 
 I tremblingly hummed, in an air in the minor key which I improvised at the 
 moment, and in which the first syllables of each line of the terza rima returned in 
 equal time, like the mournful sounds of an alarm-bell. As I tried to hit upon a 
 musical phrase which should express the Lasciate ogni speranza, voi cK intrate (All 
 hope abandon, ye who enter here!), a flash of lightning, like a flaming sword, dazzled 
 my eyes, and was instantly followed by a clap of thunder so loud, so terrifying, so 
 immeasurably magnified by the echoes of the Cordillera, that I sprang up in my saddle 
 and fell with my face on the ears of my mule. This frightful explosion was instantly 
 greeted, at only a few steps' distance, by bursts of laughter and noisy exclamations, 
 which so terrified the Muse, who was at that moment whispering in my ear, that the 
 celestial goddess, snatching up in haste her flute, her hautbois, her musical score, and 
 other attributes which the painters have given to her, spread her golden wings and 
 fled to heaven, leaving me upon the earth utterly astounded, and a little puzzled to 
 
PASS IN THE CORDILLERA OF OCOOBAHBA. 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 351 
 
 know what brute beasts they were who could talk and laugh in that fashion with 
 one of the most sublime pages in the sublime book of nature just opened before them. 
 
 These— brutes— were simply a company of poor Indians of both sexes, who, like 
 myself, were crossing the Cordillera to the valley of Occobamba. They saluted me 
 
 \ 
 
 
 - 
 
 ■ ■ \ 
 
 -- He* 
 
 INDIANS ON A JOURNEY. 
 
 as I passed near them, the men carrying upon their shoulder the hoe and spade used 
 by labourers, the women loaded with the apparatus of the cuisine. On this pyramid 
 of chattels the children were seated astride. These unfortunates had abandoned, par 
 ordre, their village, their houses, their respective labours, and were going to gather, 
 for the benefit and satisfaction of others, sweet-potatoes, coca, manioc, and cacao, 
 undergoing misery, hunger, and sickness, and perhaps, after all, leaving their bones 
 in the valley . . . "more damned souls who bid adieu to hope!" I thought, seeing 
 the poor helots disappear in the fog. 
 
352 
 
 PERU. 
 
 Some minutes afterwards I passed on my left two neaps, evidently fashioned 
 by the hand of man, of the bones of animals, oxen, horses, mules, sheep, llamas, which 
 had perished of hunger, thirst, or exhaustion in reaching these heights. This melan- 
 choly monument marked the actual commencement of the pass. I pushed through 
 
 FARMHOUSE OP LACAY, VALLEY OF OCCOBAMBA. 
 
 resolutely, like one of Ariosto's knights, and found myself on the other side of the 
 Andes. The density of the fog had increased. The gaping void before me made 
 me feel icy cold. My fingers were numbed, and my teeth began to chatter. To the 
 inconvenience of being unable to distinguish two steps in advance was added the diffi- 
 culty of the road, strewn with large rolled stones, and altogether so rough and steep 
 that my mule converted her front-legs into buttresses to prevent her from falling. 
 Sometimes a stone that she displaced rolled noisily to the bottom of the mountain, 
 and caused a tremor something like fear. All about me was dripping with wet ; my 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 353 
 
 clothes, soaked by the cold fog, were three times as heavy as they should have 
 been, and my hair felt as if it was pasted to my face. This inarch, groping' towards 
 the unknown, lasted three-quarters of an hour. Then, in the measure that I approached 
 the base of the mountain, its slope lengthened, while the fog became whiter, and more 
 and more diaphanous. Suddenly we emerged from it, and I was able to look around 
 me. A soil the colour of yellow ochre, sickly looking grass, a few stunted shrubs 
 and thickets — right and left, high mountains with bare summits — presented themselves 
 as specimens of the valley scenery. I confess that my first impressions were much 
 to its disadvantage. 
 
 Some three miles from the pass I discovered, backed by the flanks of a cerro, 
 the farm of Lacay, which Jose" Benito had mentioned. This poor-looking place, built 
 
 ?ARMSTEAD OF S A I'LL APL A Y A. 
 
 of lath and plaster, and roofed with stubble, consisted of two separate cabins. The 
 mozo, who preceded me, called out two or three times to rouse the inhabitants of the 
 farm, but as no one appeared, I inferred that it was deserted, notwithstanding that the 
 gate in its fence was wide open. 
 
 Sayllaplaya, Avhich we reached in about an hour, compensated a little for the 
 bareness of the landscape through which we had passed in our descent from the 
 mountain. The lands, finely varied, the cerros which the vegetation crowned with 
 green velvet, the lower hills gently undulating, and sometimes wooded from base to 
 summit, gave to this region an aspect, if not tropical, at least cheerful and suggestive 
 of abundance. The farmhouse of Sayllaplaya was situated on a green sward cut 
 perpendicularly on the side adjoining the road, and surrounded by fine clumps of trees. 
 At the distance at which I was I could not be certain of their character, but I fancied 
 from the latitude and locality that they were Erythrina?, or coral -trees, which bear 
 splendid scarlet blossoms, and thorny sand-box trees (Hura crepitans). A group of 
 
 45 
 
354 
 
 PERU. 
 
 bananas, with broad satin -like leaves, showed above the roof of the farmhouse, and 
 completed its rural decoration. 
 
 If flowers, of which the rose is the prototype, are short-lived, as the poets have 
 assured us from time immemorial, the leaf of the banana, of which poets have said 
 
 
 
 
 DEFILE OF THE VALLEY OF OCCOBAMLA. 
 
 nothing, is still more fragile. There is no other leaf, simple or compound, so delicate 
 and so ephemeral. At first, while rolled up, it insensibly increases in breadth and 
 length, and then some fine day, when its full growth has been attained, it unrolls in 
 the sunlight its large and shining frond, which is waved about and filled by the wind 
 as if it were a sail, until its margin is rent into a thousand shreds. The leaf of the 
 banana has often reminded me of those tender and delicate natures which cannot be 
 exposed to the shock of human passions without being completely crushed, and their 
 hearts made to bleed through a thousand pores. 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 355 
 
 While philosophizing on this subject, because for the moment I had nothing better 
 to do, I followed my guide along a path which terminated the ochry slope on which 
 stood the farmstead of Sayllaplaya, which appeared to be uninhabited, like its neigh- 
 bour the farm of Lacay. This path, which one might have taken for some enormous 
 wheel -rut, was bounded by sloping lands covered with shrubs and plants, and strewn 
 with large stones, greened with age. The entire aspect presented one of those 
 inextricable entanglements of objects which only the skilful hand of nature could so 
 dispose, and which supplies the artist with a motive of study, and the thinker with a 
 subject for his meditations. In that charming entanglement, so ravishing to the eye, 
 masses of stone seemed to weigh upon the vegetation, and the sarmentaceous plants to 
 strike their claws into the rock. The shrub tried to stifle the creeping vegetation in 
 its hard pastures; the lianes invaded it from above, and in the struggle for life the two 
 species seemed to seize hold of and bite one another, like two furious aspics. A sort of 
 raging avidity, a savage aggressiveness, and a singular obstinacy of resistance, were the 
 pervading characteristics of the scene. Every living thing seemed to throw itself into 
 the struggle for air, and light, and foot-hold, as if a sense of desperation urged it to 
 exert its powers of extension to the utmost, The very path itself, rebelling against a 
 straight course, seemed to witness, by its multiplied twistings and twinings, to this 
 irrepressible need of development and self-assertion impressed by nature on the locality. 
 
 Nearly half an hour had passed since we commenced the descent of this path, and 
 the half light in which it rejoiced, added to the monotonous repetitions of the same 
 things, would have sent me to sleep on the back of my mule if the scene had not 
 suddenly changed. The path opened upon a great circular space, strewn with erratic 
 blocks, mingled with dwarf shrubs and great bushy clumps. At the end of the per- 
 spective, at the foot of two cerros, wooded at their base, but with bare summits, 
 appeared some thirty miserable-looking cottages. 
 
 "Occobamba!" cried my guide, turning round and pointing to the village. 
 
 Instead of replying, I spurred on my mule. In a quarter of an hour we were 
 on the spot. 
 
 A woman whom I found squatted by a pool of water, in which she was washing 
 her rags, and of whom I asked where the alcalde lived, showed me a cottage standing 
 a little apart, towards which I immediately went. The autocrat of Occobamba, whom 
 I recognized by his comparatively clean shirt of tocuyo, was seated at the door of his 
 house mending his sandals with a bit of leather, of which he had taken the exact 
 measure from the soles of his feet, 
 
 " God be with you ! " I said. 
 
 "God be with you!" he replied. 
 
 Having exchanged this salutation, and seeing that the alcalde, a little surprised 
 by my appearance, was all eyes and ears, I asked him if he could find a man who, 
 on condition of being paid, would serve me as a guide to Echarati. 
 
 " But Echarati is in the valley of Santa Ana, and we are in that of Occobamba," 
 he judiciously observed. 
 
 "That is true," I said, "but you know, or you do not know perhaps, that every 
 
356 
 
 PERU. 
 
 road leads to Rome; and while turning to the right would lead me to the valley of 
 Lares, by going to the left I should arrive at Santa Ana. My business at present 
 leads me to the latter place, and you will much oblige by furnishing me with a guide." 
 
 "Nothing is easier." 
 
 "That is not all," I rejoined. "I have had for two days a mozo as my servant 
 and guide to this place, and who is now close at hand. This mozo I wish to send 
 back again to Cuzco, but as, with all his faults, he is strongly attached to me, and 
 would perhaps follow me further in spite of all I could say, I am under the necessity 
 
 
 VILLAGE OF OCCOBAMBA. 
 
 of requesting your interference, so that you may compel him to return if necessary. 
 This piastre will indemnify you for any trouble it may cause you." 
 
 " Virgen santissima .'" exclaimed the alcalde, pocketing the piastre. "Where is the 
 fellow of whom you complain? let me see him. I will put him in prison; give him the 
 whip or the stick . . . whichever you please." 
 
 "That is unnecessary; simply send him back, and let me have a man to take his 
 place." 
 
 "Come then; but in truth you are too good, Hueracocha. It will cost me nothing 
 to give the rascal a little correction, and it will be the best way of proving my 
 gratitude." 
 
 As I turned back, accompanied by the alcalde, whose smiling face had suddenly 
 assumed an angry look, in harmony with the functions he was about to fulfil, we found 
 ourselves face to face with Jose' Benito, who had dismounted and was holding his mule 
 by the bridle. On perceiving the political chief of Occobamba, whom he recognized, 
 notwithstanding the somewhat neglected look of his person and apparel, as a thief 
 would discover a detective under any disguise, the mozo lost countenance, and dropped 
 his eyes. 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 357 
 
 "That is the man," I said simply. 
 
 "Advance, thief, brigand, assassin !" the alcalde thought it his duty to exclaim. 
 
 Jose" Benito, turning as green as an olive, and trembling in all his limbs, obeyed 
 the commands of the terrible functionary. 
 
 " How is it, you impudent vagabond, you scoundrel, that you have dared to affront 
 so good a master as he whom you have accompanied here ? Answer, you dog ! " 
 
 Fearing, from the oratorical pomp of this opening, that the discourse of the alcalde 
 might last longer than my patience — 
 
 -"Wav 
 
 AN ALCALDE ON A JOURNEY. 
 
 "Allow me to settle this little affair," I said, giving my guide a cuff on the ear. 
 "Jose Benito," I continued, addressing the mozo, "from this moment you cease to be 
 in my service. I have no need to give you my reasons for this determination; you 
 know them as well as I do. Take these fifteen francs, which you were to have for 
 guiding me as far as Echarati. Return to Cuzco, and try to become an honest man." 
 
 The mozo advanced with feigned or real humility, put the silver which I proffered 
 him in his pocket; but, instead of leaving, held on to the crupper of my mule, as if 
 he were about to faint. His manner indicated such abasement, the look with which 
 he regarded me was so profoundly sad, that feeling my courage fail, I turned my head 
 and said to the alcalde, 
 
 " Send him away at once." 
 
 "Double scoundrel!" cried the village potentate in a furious voice, "must I skin 
 you alive ? " 
 
 At this menace the mozo bounded to his feet, and recovering his presence of mind 
 and the use of his limbs, fled like a deer through the bushes, in which he was lost 
 to view. 
 
 When the poor devil had disappeared, I felt some remorse at thus abandoning him 
 
358 
 
 PERU. 
 
 more than sixty miles from Cuzco, and, above all, obliging him to cross the Cordillera 
 on foot, a journey which he had made comfortably that morning seated on a mule. But 
 the alcalde having seriously assured me that a rascal like my guide, with fifteen francs 
 in his pocket, would have nothing to complain of, I left Jose Benito to his fate, 
 trusting that, after all, Mercury, his honoured patron, would see him safe home. 
 It was now about four o'clock in the afternoon, and considering that I could not 
 
 W//W7F<gI 
 
 JOSE BENITOS RETURN TO CUZCO. 
 
 pursue my journey further that day, I accepted the hospitality offered by the alcalde, 
 and after having charged him to turn my two mules into a corral, and see to their 
 forage, I went for a ramble in the village. Most of the men were absent, only the 
 women remaining in the huts, where they were engaged in preparing the evening repast 
 of boiled maize. A touching scene caused me to stop before one of these dwellings. 
 A young woman, seated on the ground, held captive between her knees two children 
 of from three to four years of age, on whom she lavished her caresses. Every now 
 and then her hand was busy in the unkempt hair of the innocents, seeming to seek 
 for some invisible object, which, when found, she put in her mouth. Here was an 
 illustration of that maternal love which no obstacle can overcome, which shrinks from 
 no sacrifice, and which can nourish itself, on occasion, with the vermin which infest 
 the children of its affection ! Happy those, I murmured, as I tore myself away from 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 3o9 
 
 the touching scene, whom the hand of a mother relieves of the insects which incommode 
 them ! It is a happiness I have never myself enjoyed, and which I am most probably 
 never to know in this world ! 
 
 Continuing my inspection of the locality, I discovered at the base of one of the 
 cerros, and resembling, with its granite jambs joined by a lintel, a Celtic trilithon, the 
 most charming fountain that a painter of genre could desire for the foreground of his 
 picture. The water fell from above, noiselessly, like a veil of gauze, into a kind of 
 basin, from the dark recess of which the rays of the setting sun were reflected like a 
 thousand needles of gold. The overflow of this basin rippled away over mossy stones, 
 and formed in the middle of the road a crystalline thread of water, at which the birds 
 
 
 
 A FOUNTAIN AT OCCOBAMBA. 
 
 of the air and the village dogs were glad to quench their thirst. Blackberries, fuschias, 
 and a species of misletoe (Loranthacece) clustered on the flank of the cerro, and 
 formed a framework of foliage and flowers to this fountain; immediately around which 
 grew tangled masses of water-plants, SagittaHa, Hydrocotyles, and hart's-tongue ferns 
 (Scolopendrium), with their dark-green and shining leaves. After a mental invocation 
 to the guardian naiad of this reservoir, I took a draught of its limpid stream; and 
 seeing nothing more that appeared to be worth writing about or sketching, I returned 
 with slow steps to the house of my host the alcalde. 
 
 I found him busy washing a bit of mutton of a bluish tint, from which he was 
 removing with great care certain oblong moving bodies. After having manipulated 
 this bit of tainted meat, and smelled at it several times, he tendered it to me that 
 I might scent it in my turn. I drew back. 
 
 "It smells a little," he said, "but the stench will be removed by cooking; besides 
 I will take care to put plenty of onions and balm and pimento in the chupe." 
 
 "And who is this drupe" for?" I asked. 
 
360 PERU. 
 
 "Why, for you," lie said; "it's your supper that I am preparing." 
 
 " Thank you," I replied sharply; "I would rather sup on memory than taste that 
 horror; haven't you anything else to offer me?" 
 
 "No other meat; but I have pumpkins, yuccas, and sweet-potatoes." 
 
 "Give me them; I will cook them for myself, and make a dish fit for a prince." 
 
 The man brought me half a pumpkin, a handful of manioc roots, 1 and some sweet- 
 potatoes, which he laid down at my feet. Seating myself I took a knife from my 
 pocket, pealed the pumpkin, cut its pulp into small bits, and put them into an earthen 
 pot with a pint of water and a little pimento and salt. That done, I placed my soup 
 over a fire which the alcalde had kindled with dried sticks. Then I put in the ashes 
 the roots of the yucca which were to serve me for bread, and some of my sweet-potatoes 
 which were to serve for dessert. My host watched my culinary preparations with an air 
 of astonishment, which could not but be flattering to my amour propre. 
 
 "This is the first time," he said, "that I have seen a caballero employed as 
 a cook!" 
 
 "And that amuses you?" 
 
 " Well, yes," he said. 
 
 " If you would only amuse me in return," I replied, " or only be agreeable enough 
 to fulfil the duties of hospitality by taking out of my sight, but above all from the reach 
 of my nose, that bit of carrion that you still have in your hand, and the smell of which, 
 owing to the expansion of its odoriferous corpuscules by the heat of the fire ..." 
 
 I was rambling into scientific phrases which my host the alcalde was not likely 
 to understand, but the gesture of disgust with which I accompanied them was un- 
 mistakable. He therefore rose and carried the mutton away to some remote corner 
 of the room. He then returned and seated himself by the fire, which he fed with sticks, 
 whilst I stirred my pumpkin-soup with a wooden spoon, or turned over my potatoes 
 and yucca-roots in the glowing ashes. 
 
 In an hour or so I judged my soup was cooked to a nicety, and having taken it 
 from the fire I turned half of it into a bowl, which I offered to my host; I also divided 
 my potatoes with him. While we were eating and gossiping together, I did not conceal 
 from him my astonishment at not having seen under his roof either a wife, a house- 
 keeper, or a female domestic of any kind, who might have scattered a few flowers in his 
 path of life, and sewn up the rents in his pantaloons. 
 
 "I have had two lawful wives," he said with a sigh, "and neither is left me." 
 
 "Both dead!" I exclaimed. 
 
 "Alas!" he sighed. 
 
 " Tell me your history, then, my good fellow. It is sometimes well for a man to 
 open his heart to a friend, and you cannot doubt that I am one, after I have divided 
 with thee in such a fraternal manner my pumpkin-soup and my potatoes. 
 
 "It is soon told," he said: "my first Avife had a taste for strong drink. As she was 
 
 1 These yuccas, or yucca roots, are a species of Jatropha — the J. Manihot, from -which the negroes obtain their 
 manioc or magnioc, better known as the cassava of the West Indies, and the tapioca of Brazil. The roots are not whole- 
 some until they have been kept some time. — Tr. 
 
CUZCO TO EOHARATI. 
 
 301 
 
 drunk from morning till night, and wasted her time with other women of the village, 
 I thought a good beating would correct her of the fault; but she was obstinate, and 
 having drunk more than usual one day, I gave her such a knock-down blow that 
 she never got up again." 
 
 "The devil! No doubt drunkenness is a sad fault, but if we were to kill all who 
 
 THE AUTHOR PREPARING A SOUP. 
 
 get drunk, more than three-fourths of the human race would be exterminated. How- 
 ever, the mischief is done ; think no more about it. And how did you lose your second 
 wife?" 
 
 " One of my neighbours made love to her, and the wretched woman encouraged him. 
 Often I have beaten her and reasoned with her on the subject, but neither beating nor 
 reasoning was of the slightest avail. She was one of those mulish natures who would 
 
 vol. I. 46 
 
362 PERU. 
 
 rather be killed on the spot than submit. When she returned home one day, after 
 having been absent ever since the morning, and forgotten to leave me anything to eat, 
 I threw a jug at her head and it knocked out one of her eyes. This was a small thing 
 in comparison with the injuries and insults she had heaped upon me, yet she bore such 
 malice that she disappeared the next day, taking with her all her clothes, since which 
 time I have never set eyes on her." 
 
 " A blind woman is easy enough to discover even in a crowd ; you are sure to find 
 her again if you try." 
 
 "Find her? God forbid! Two trials of the married state are enough. Who knows 
 but a third wife, if I should take one, would play me some scurvy trick? No, no, it is 
 better for me to remain as I am; for one drop of honey that a woman brings into a 
 house she gives you a whole bottleful of gall.' 
 
 I was silent from politeness; the opinion of my host might be erroneous, but I 
 would not dispute it; all opinions are free. 
 
 After a few moments of silence, which I employed in smoking a cigarette, seeing 
 that the alcalde had followed my example and seemed to be absorbed in memories 
 of the past, I roused him by speaking of the guide he had promised to find for me. 
 He went out in search of one. 
 
 Left alone, I took the resinous torch which served for a light and inspected minutely 
 the interior of the hut. To the repulsive squalor which characterizes in Peru the 
 cottages of all indigenes, was added that tohu-bohu which the household of a bachelor 
 usually presents in all places alike. With the assistance of a fork and a wooden rake, 
 which I discovered in a corner, I cleared a space several feet square, which I covered 
 with the rug and the skins of my two saddles. I had just finished my preparations 
 when the alcalde returned, accompanied by a man of middle age, decently dressed, and 
 with a physiognomy sufficiently pleasing. 
 
 As I examined him from head to foot before beginning the negotiation — ■ 
 
 "You may place entire confidence in Miguel," said the alcalde; "he is an honest, 
 active, and industrious fellow, and knows every corner and turn in the three valleys 
 of Lares, Occobamba, and Santa Ana." 
 
 If my host's words were to be trusted such a man was a treasure, but the evil 
 thought suggested itself that the alcalde might be playing a cunning part, and providing 
 me with a guide who would share with him the price agreed on for the journey. I had 
 long enough been familiar with such arrangements between the public functionaries 
 and their agents. Fearing to be duped and ' burdened with a guide without the neces- 
 sary information, I commenced a regular examination of the man's pretensions. 
 
 " Since you know the country so well," I said, " be so good as to tell me in what 
 part of the valley of Lares this village of Occobamba is situated?" 
 
 " By continuing across the cerros without turning to the right or the left you will 
 arrive at the village of Quillca." 
 
 "And on the Santa Ana side?" 
 
 " You would find yourself just between Yanamanchi and Pabellon-Pata. 
 
 " My intention is to continue as far as its last inhabited estancia, along the valley 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 3G3 
 
 of Occobamba, with which I am not yet acquainted, and from thence I propose to cross 
 into the valley of Santa Ana. How many estancias shall I find on the way?" 
 
 "Seven after leaving this village." 
 
 "And the distance?" 
 
 "Seventy-five miles as far as the hacienda of la Lechuza; that will be two days' 
 journey." 
 
 "Is that the point at which we shall cross into Santa Ana?" 
 
 "Yes; there is no inhabited place beyond la Lechuza, and you would be obliged 
 to pass the night in the open air. On quitting la Lechuza we ascend the heights which 
 separate Santa Ana from Occobamba, and descend in the course of the river of Alcusama 
 to the village of Chaco." 
 
 "Decidedly," I thought, "the alcalde is right; this man is a veritable walking 
 geography." 
 
 " Early to-morrow," I said to the Indian, giving him two reals by way of llapa or 
 earnest, which drew from him many thanks and obeisances. 
 
 When he had retired, as my host and I seemed to have nothing more to say to each 
 other, we turned in to our several resting-places. I know not whether the sleep of my 
 companion was troubled by the apparition of his two wives, but mine was as calm and 
 profound as that of the just, and I woke early in the morning without having changed 
 my posture. 
 
 Faithful to his engagement my guide was at the door. The alcalde went for the 
 mules and saddled with his own hands that which I rode, while Miguel harnessed the 
 beast which, after having served Jose" Benito, he was himself to use. I took leave 
 of my host, and left the place with his warmest wishes for my future happiness. 
 
 Soon the sun rose above the chain of the cerros which formed the southern 
 boundary of the valley. The clumps of trees and bushes on the escarpments, illum- 
 inated by his earliest rays, formed, with the irregularities of the lands, still steeped 
 in a bluish shadow, contrasts that were ideally perfect in grace and freshness. 
 Between two of the wooded mountains the river of Occobamba descended from the 
 heights shining like silver. Its murmur, mingled with those confused sounds which the 
 day brings with it in plain or forest, and which rise like the morning-hymn of the 
 creation to the Creator, fell pleasantly on the ear, and awoke a thousand sweet visions, 
 a thousand winged thoughts, which it is impossible to reproduce either with pen or 
 pencil. In the presence of these splendid tableaux of Nature the true poet is he who 
 feels most and says the least. 
 
 After travelling for some time through a locality either altogether barren, or only 
 enlivened by a stunted vegetation, we approached the river, which ran, or rather rolled, 
 noisily in a north-easterly direction, over a pebbly bed. We crossed the stream where 
 we struck it, with the water up to the girths of our mules, although a bridge was 
 visible a short distance in advance. My guide, when I asked him why he preferred 
 this way to the other, replied, that the wooden piles of the bridge were more than half- 
 rotten, and that we coidd not cross it without the risk of its giving May under us. I 
 thanked Miguel for the interest which he took in our two noble selves; a fall of 
 
3(i4 PERU. 
 
 fifteen feet, in the midst of a rapid current encumbered with stones, might have had its 
 picturesque side, but would certainly have proved a little dangerous. 
 
 The country we were traversing had no roads or visible footpaths; but we followed 
 the course of the river, keeping along the bank, or otherwise, according to the nature 
 of the ground. The vegetation, almost non-existent on the left shore, or side of 
 Santa Ana, presented nothing very remarkable on the right, or that of Lares. In 
 travelling, however, it is necessary to be contented with what God gives you; and I 
 accepted thankfully the few lank vegetables, stunted bushes, and starved shrubs, 
 which defiled successively before me. 
 
 Miguel, to whom I confessed the cravings of my stomach, and who, by reason of his 
 appetite or his sympathy, experienced exactly the same sensation, told me we should be 
 able to recruit our forces at Mayoc, where the proprietor of the farm-house, a young 
 widow without children, was well known to him. 
 
 The sight of this farmhouse, where we arrived about eleven o'clock, did not excite 
 in me any large amount of artistic enthusiasm, but it doubled my hunger. When the 
 mistress of the house, a fat, matronly-looking woman, simply clad in a chemise and a 
 woollen petticoat, appeared on the threshold, I thought of securing her good graces by 
 asking, with a smile, about her health, and if she had slept well the previous night. 
 Such questions from a man whom she had never seen before, took her a little by 
 surprise and made her smile, and as people who begin by smiling soon get to 
 understand one another, my guide had scarcely made her acquainted with our needs 
 when the good woman set cheerfully to work to satisfy them. 
 
 Very soon, squatted by a fire which I fed with sticks, I heard, with an emotion 
 difficult to express in words, the noise made by the earthen pot, in which three 
 guinea-pigs and a proportionate supply of vegetables rolled over one another in the 
 midst of the eddies of foam formed by the boiling of the water. Oh, poetry of the 
 stomach, though not of an ethereal nature, thou art not less enchanting, and thy delights 
 are in no degree less enjoyable, than those of the spirit! Sometimes, while I write, the 
 remembrance of the many occasions when my hunger was satisfied in the desert, 
 returns in idea, and gives me, with the return of youth, sadden accesses of appetite! 
 I feel myself free, proud, ardent, enthusiastic, and disposed to eat, without cooking 
 them even, the stumps of cabbages. But these sudden emotions of the stomach and 
 imagination are of short duration, and I fall back upon myself, recalled by the 
 irrepressible law of things to the sentiment of a sad reality. 
 
 The guinea-pig soup, which our hostess soon served, made a more substantial 
 meal than my pumpkin-soup of the evening before. While partaking of it, and 
 looking at the good woman who busied herself about us, an idea came into my head 
 which I communicated to Miguel, and which made him roar with laughter. Fearing 
 that the widow, whose eyes were fixed upon us, would think I had made some improper 
 remark, I requested him to explain the cause to her, which he did, still laughing. 
 
 Hardly had the worthy woman realized the idea that I thought she would suit 
 extremely well the alcalde of Occobamba, than her countenance, so cheerful till that 
 moment, suddenly assumed an expression of wrath mixed with disdain. 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 3G5 
 
 "I am not so anxious to dispose of myself," said she, "as to marry a monster, 
 an excommunicated wretch, who killed his first wife and disfigured his second." 
 
 "All the more reason that he should become the slave of his third/' I suggested 
 adroitly; "that man, my good woman, knows that he has much to lie forgiven, and you 
 will be as an angel of mercy to him." 
 
 "I am not an angel," she replied, dryly; "the angels are in heaven with the bon 
 Pieu!" 
 
 FARMSTEAD OF MATOC IN THE VALLEY OF OCCOBAJIBA. 
 
 T thought it prudent to end this conversation and pay more attention to my dinner. 
 Whether my proposal had wounded her as a woman, or whether it had recalled with 
 bitterness that the state of widowhood is not, as St. Francis of Sales pretends, the 
 happiest condition of human nature, her manner had become as disagreeable as at our 
 entrance it had been the reverse. "The devil," I thought, "always punishes us for our 
 good thoughts when he does not chastise us for our good actions." I finished my 
 dinner, and asked our hostess how much was to pay. 
 
 "Two piastres," she replied, holding out her hand, and at the same time turning 
 away her head. 
 
 I gave her the sum demanded, which represented six times the value of my dinner, 
 and added mentally: "Paul Marcoy, my friend, you are no better than an idiot; a 
 man should never talk to a strange widow about getting married!" 
 
3G6 PERU. 
 
 The shade of vexation which this incident had occasioned me was soon forgotten 
 en route. Turning our backs on the hill of Mayoc, Ave passed under the cover of an 
 oasis, the freshness of which, heightened by the neighbourhood of the river, was all the 
 more appreciable, as the satisfaction of my stomach enhanced, for me, the warmth and 
 brightness of the day. Across this oasis, formed by clumps of bamboos {Bambusacece), 
 locust-trees (Robinia), and climbing plants, serpentined one of those roads which we 
 love to follow by moonlight, dreaming of what we long for, or enjoying what we 
 possess. The place was like a copy of one of the pictures of Theocritus or Virgil, 
 redolent of idyllic odour, which it was a delight to breathe. It is true there was no 
 such shepherd as Thyrsis, no such shepherdess as Amaryllis, no Corydon and Alexis 
 conversing in dactyls and spondees. The violet and the narcissus were both wanting, 
 and we might have sought in vain for the shade of an amaranth; but the short grass 
 enamelled with flowers, the rocks carpeted with moss, the little stream running 
 noiselessly over its sandy bed, combined to produce the happiest inspirations. No 
 nightingale sang in this solitude, yet it was vocal with the sweet symphony of the birds 
 of the country, whose ravishing appogiaturas and trills interlaced with the most 
 delicious melody the sustained bass of the river rolling over its stony bed. The 
 forest which stretched far away in the distance was at once an aviary and an 
 orchestra. For an instant I entertained the idea of making a sketch of this scene; 
 but what pencil, what colour, could have translated that murmur, that freshness, that 
 harmony, that veil of poesy, in a word, which like the renin* textilis of Petronius, 
 enveloped the scene as in an atmosphere of gauze! I shut up my sketch-book with the 
 feeling that this landscape was one of those sweet souvenirs which one can but 
 preserve in memory, as one keeps a subtle perfume in a sealed bottle. 
 
 While our route continued through this pleasant woodland, I imagined myself 
 travelling in a dream, and, to complete the illusion, I went on with my eyes half-shut, 
 allowing the details to melt in the masses, and contenting myself with the impression 
 made on my hearing by the singing of the birds. Whether it was that the invisible 
 orchestra soothed my spirit like a lullaby, or the half light and freshness of the air 
 invited to repose, I began to feel drowsy, and at last actually slept. One false step of 
 my mule roused me suddenly to consciousness, and, opening my eyes, I could not avoid 
 an expression of astonishment. The scene had totally changed its aspect; the trees 
 had disappeared, the birds had taken wing, and great sandy spaces, covered with the 
 latest deposits of the river, alternated with stretches of yellow grass and masses of 
 rock half-buried in the ground. These changes of scene are frequent in the valleys of 
 Lares, Occobamba, and Santa Ana. They are caused by the direction of the valleys, 
 which take a course parallel to the Cordillera, instead of suddenly diverging, like 
 the valleys of the east, comprised between Paucartampu and the Yungas of Bolivia. 
 We were nearly an hour traversing this region, which, by its barrenness, recalled 
 the punas of the Cordillera; as, by the purity of its sky and the brightness of the 
 sun, it reminded me of the gorges on the Pacific coast. By-and-by the sudden 
 falling away of the ground indicated an approaching change in the landscape, and the 
 renewal of vegetation was announced by the occurrence of lantanas with viscous 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 367 
 
 leaves, and mimosas, whose little ball-like flowers, of a pale rose colour, gave out a 
 penetrating odour like patchouli. 
 
 As we crossed the last group of hills, which formed, as it were, the north-north- 
 eastern limit of the desert, we saw before us, in a luminous perspective, a conical peak, 
 luilf-clothed with vegetation ; its dark-green tint standing out admirably against the 
 ultramarine of the heavens. My guide, of whom I asked the name of this hill, told me 
 it was called the "Cuesta" of Unupampa, and at the same time showed me, on 
 our right, half-hidden in the trees, a small house, which also bore the name of 
 Unupampa. 
 
 The farmstead of Unupampa, shaded by coral-trees {Erythrince centenariw), was 
 
 THE CUESTA OB PEAK OF UNUPAMPA. 
 
 shut and silent when we passed ; only some black fowls with red combs, which 
 clucked and scrimmaged in the scrub, gave a little animation to the neighbourhood. 
 I regretted their owner was not at hand, as I would have bought one of him, and hung 
 it by the legs to my saddle-bow, in order to wring its neck and make soup of it in the 
 evening. But Miguel having assured me that the hacienda of Uchu, where our day's 
 journey would terminate, abounded in poultry, I left the chickens of Unupampa 
 undisturbed, and contented myself with taking a sketch of the farmhouse to which 
 they belonged. 
 
 Once more our course was directed towards the river, which we crossed at a 
 shallow spot (ixisserelle), of which a water-colour painter would have made a capital 
 picture. Nothing was wanting to its perfection; old palings greened and twisted, 
 strongly marked contrasts of shade and light, chickweed and Confervce like thick grass, 
 tufts of herbaceous and aquatic plants (Plantaginacece and Avoklew), displaying, in 
 the thread of Mater, their shining leaves, which w r ere incessantly fretted and tossed 
 about or submerged by the current. 
 
368 
 
 PERU. 
 
 When we had gained the left bank of the river, Miguel thought it his duty to tell 
 me that the sun was no longer in the zenith, and that there were still twenty-four miles 
 to Uchu. This was as much as to say that, instead of gaping at the rooks, or amusing 
 myself by collecting pebbles and flowers, I had better push on my mule, to escape 
 being surprised by nightfall. His advice, indirect as it was, appeared to me judicious, 
 and it was felt the less irksome to follow, considering that this part of the valley 
 presented nothing that was particularly worthy of attention. We continued at a good 
 pace until we reached the hacienda of los Camotes {Convolvulus Batatas), where, on the 
 faith of its name, I expected to find some growing crops of these sweet-potatoes, the 
 regular corolla of which is of a violet tint, so deliriously soft to the eye, and the tubers 
 
 
 THE FARMSTEAD OF ONUPAMFA. 
 
 so sweet to the taste. What I saw, however, from the top of a little hill, was a 
 mud-built house, composed of two high -roofed gables, thatched witli stubble ami 
 connected by a verandah. A small garden, planted with onions, cabbages, and 
 pumpkins, adjoined the farmhouse, and completed its ill-looking physiognomy. With 
 a look of disdain I passed on. 
 
 A hundred steps further it occurred to me to ask Miguel how it came to pass that 
 the hacienda of los Camotes should have acquired such a name as " sweet-potatoes." 
 
 " Perhaps it is because they breed a great many sheep," he replied. 
 
 I might have laughed at such an absurd answer, but continued to look serious, in 
 order not to vex my guide. 
 
 We were three hours going from Camotes to Tiocuna {uncle's cradle). On reaching 
 the latter point our mules, a little jaded, breathed and snuffled so heavily that we 
 halted a moment to let them rest. I took advantage of the pause to reconnoitre the 
 site. The farmhouse consisted of two distinct parts: the one dismantled, its roof off 
 and its timbers hanging in ruins; the other intact, provided with a door and a window, 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 369 
 
 and covered with a roof of stubble, nearly new. There was nothing picturesque in 
 this contrast of the old and the new, nor was the situation of such a character as to 
 improve it in that respect. A steep cerro, with a few bushes clinging to it here and 
 there, a misshapen guava-tree leaning over the house, were its principal features. 
 The wretched appearance of the place was only enhanced by the presence of its pro- 
 prietors, a decrepit old man and old woman, with dark skins and ghastly contours, 
 
 HACIENDA OF LOS CAMOTES (SWEET -POTATOES). 
 
 conjugally seated side by side on a wooden bench, as if to revivify, in the warm 
 sunshine, their blood, frozen by age. I thought of Philemon and Baucis of mythologic 
 renown; but as I was not Jupiter to test their hospitality, I contented myself with 
 waving an adieu with my hand, and, remounting my beast, was soon far from "uncle's 
 cradle," without deigning to inquire how it obtained such a singular name. 
 
 Hitherto I had found so little reason to congratulate myself on my idea of visiting 
 Occobamba, that, as we trotted along, though I said nothing to Miguel, whose vanity 
 as an autochthon would have been wounded by the remark, I compared myself to the 
 dog in the fable, who lost the substance in grasping at the shadow. Had I travelled 
 by known routes I should have found my journey a perpetual succession of pleasing 
 scenes. The natural curiosities which I had formerty admired in the neighbouring 
 valleys — those beautiful plants, those charming flowers, those brilliant birds — marvels 
 
 vol. i. 47 
 
370 
 
 PERU. 
 
 of creation which invite observation, awake enthusiasm, and seem at every step to cry 
 from the depths of the forests where they are hidden, Sta viator! — all these wonders 
 were still to be found in their old haunts. Why had I not entertained the idea of 
 seeing them once again for the last time? "Cursed valley of Occobamba!" I said to 
 myself, by way of conclusion; "cursed thirst for the Unknown! Man here below, 
 believing it possible to satisfy thee, only experiments to his loss. Since Eve tasted of 
 the fatal apple, that mad desire which urges the creature to ci^oss the boundary of the 
 real, and seek what never can be realized, how many unhappy mortals whose ambitious 
 
 ,<\oM 
 
 THE FARM OP TIOCUNA (UNCLE'S CRADLE). 
 
 flight tended heavenwards have been seen, like Icarus, the wax of their wings melted, 
 to fall heavily upon the earth ! " 
 
 This psychological theme, which I have here summed up in a few lines, but which 
 my unoccupied thoughts had developed at suitable length, and embellished with the 
 proper rhetorical flourishes, occupied the time which we took to accomplish the journey 
 from Tiocuna to Uchu. When we arrived there the sun had set. 
 
 Evening began to close in. The sky was magnificent. Before us lay the valley, 
 half hidden from view by a curtain of violet vapours. Behind us the bare heads of the 
 cerros and the skeletons of trees seemed to be traced in black on a ground of orange- 
 purple. An ineffable calm reigned around. If my famished stomach had not drawn 
 me remorselessly earthwards, it was a scene which might have raised my spirit to God 
 in ecstacy, or humbled me 'at his footstool in prayer. 
 
 Uchu, which my guide had called a hacienda, appeared, in the last gleams of day- 
 light, to be nothing but a modest chacara. Perhaps the assurance of my guide that 
 it abounded in poultry disposed me to regard the place favourably, perhaps the situation 
 was really agreeable, but my sympathies were caught by it at first sight. 
 
 We were received, when unbooted, by a woman wearing a shepherdess's hat, orna- 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 371 
 
 mented with red ribbons, and clothed in a petticoat of white dimity, which I thought 
 jarred a little with her critical age, her fulness of figure, bordering on obesity, and 
 her already gray hairs. My guide, by saluting her with courtesy, and joining to her 
 first name, Manuela, the titles of Senora Donna, gave me to understand that I had no 
 ordinary person to deal with. The manner in which the unknown invited us to enter 
 her house completed my conviction of her superiority. As the room into which Ave 
 entered was quite dark, the first care of Senora Donna Manuela was to light a candle, 
 when I discovered a square table or counter provided with scales, and stands fur- 
 
 
 A GROCERS STORE AT UCH0. 
 
 nished with round -bellied bottles, decanters, bottles with labels, and other objects. 
 This lady, I said to myself, is a pulpera, or grocer, and as such her cellar and her 
 larder ought to be well provisioned. I was not mistaken as to her quality. After 
 the usual exchanges of politeness with my guide, she began to talk of the hardness of 
 the times and the badness of trade. The inhabitants of the neighbouring estancias 
 continued, indeed, to buy trifles of her; but for articles of the first necessity and of 
 daily consumption, such as brandy, chocolate, and pimento, they resorted to the valleys 
 of Lares and Santa Ana, where they bought them cheaper. If this had not been the 
 case, her trade would have been a very profitable one. To this point I had heard 
 nothing but the ordinary commercial grumbling common to grocers of both sexes all 
 the world over, and I listened to her laments without feeling particularly moved by 
 them ; but when the Senora Donna Manuela added, with a sigh which seemed to come 
 from the depths of her capacious bosom, that the badness of trade had reduced her 
 store of provisions to what was barely necessary to sustain life, I felt a vague appre- 
 hension of coming evil. This apprehension became a certainty when Miguel, having 
 asked if she could oblige us with food and lodging, received for reply that she could 
 let us have her shop to sleep in, but as for food she had nothing left but some chuno 
 
372 PERU. 
 
 (frozen potatoes) and a few heads of maize. What was to be done in such a case ? 
 One conld but offer to God this new cross, and accept with seeming gratitude the chuiio 
 and maize of our hostess, and that is what I did. 
 
 An hour after this conversation, Donna Manuela, who had taken off her pretentious 
 accoutrements to make our supper, served up on a low table a plate of her boiled 
 chuiio, and a few heads of maize roasted in the embers. What a repast for a man 
 who since the morning had been flattering himself, on the faith of his guide, that he 
 would be able to sup at Uchu on a nice plump fowl ! As, after all, this disappointment 
 was not Miguel's fault, I abstained from expressing my discontent. Our meagre repast 
 finished, Donna Manuela offered us, by way of dessert, a glass of curacao of her own 
 making, a simple tafia without sugar, in which were steeped some slices of orange. 
 After having drank with us, she retired into another apartment, and then Miguel 
 prepared our couches with our saddle-cloths. Notwithstanding the fatigue of a long 
 day's journey, and the need of rest, I could only sleep on condition of keeping one eye 
 always open. As soon as the candle was extinguished a battalion of rats invaded the 
 shop, searching everywhere for provisions, which were not to be found. I heard them 
 trotting on the counter, climbing up the stands, and, furious at finding nothing they 
 could gnaw, jolting about among the bottles and glasses. The night that I passed in 
 watching against the attacks of these savages, whom I compared to the vampires which 
 haunt deserted castles, was everyway worthy of the supper which had preceded it. 
 
 In the morning, after having settled our accounts with Donna Manuela, and drank 
 the stirrup-cup in cavalier fashion, we turned our backs on her abode. Miguel, 
 judging from my swollen eyes and my entire prostration, that the hospitality of Uchu 
 had been too much for me, tried to re-animate my lost courage by the perspective of 
 a good lodging and a good supper at the hacienda of la Lechuza (Chouette), where 
 our day's journey was to end. As I appeared only half-convinced, the man hastened 
 to add that the proprietress of the hacienda in question was not a grocer like Donna 
 Manuela, but a grand lady, una alta senora, who for four years had lived in the 
 valley of Occobamba in entire seclusion. All that any one knew of her history was 
 that she was born at Lima, from which city she had come to establish herself in the 
 hacienda of la Chouette, which she had inherited from one of her parents. It was 
 her custom to remain shut up during the day, and only to go out during the night, 
 when, too, she was always veiled. 
 
 My guide's story sounded like a fable, but his manner continuing serious, it was 
 impossible not to feel there was some truth in it, Without replying, I mused upon 
 its singular purport. I had formerly had opportunities of studying the women of 
 Lima in their homes. I had long known the changing tastes, the flighty humour, 
 the fantastic caprices of these charming indigenes — tastes, humours, and caprices in 
 which they resemble humming-birds, flying from flower to flower, without fixing on 
 any, sucking their honey with the same avidity, and rending them with their beaks 
 with the same indifference. What a singular exception to the rule, then, was the 
 unknown inhabitant of la Lechuza, who, belonging, according to my guide, to the 
 aristocracy of the City of Kings, had fled, to avoid the world, into an obscure coiner 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 373 
 
 of the valley of Occobamba, where she neither received nor saw any one! Such a 
 mystery piqued my curiosity, and I felt such a desire to penetrate it, that we had 
 journeyed three miles from Uchu before I noticed that we had crossed the river, and 
 instead of following its left shore, as we had done after leaving' Unupampa, Ave were 
 now on the right. 
 
 The country which separates the grocery-store of Uchu from the hacienda of Tian- 
 Tian, Avhere Ave arrived betAveen eleven and twelve o'clock, presents, like the neigh- 
 bouring valleys of Lares and Santa Ana, under the same parallel, barren spaces alter- 
 nating with umbrageous oases, which recall the dualism of classic and romantic art. 
 Here, it is the stone and the aridness which predominate; there, it is vegetation, shade, 
 and freshness. This perpetual contrast, Avhich, it might be supposed, was pleasant to 
 the eye and agreeable to the spirit, became in fact dreadfully fatiguing. At the end 
 of every league it Avas like a box on the ear given by prose to poetry, or a pair of 
 scissors applied to the Avings of enthusiasm. 
 
 On entering the court of Tian-Tian, Avhere Ave Avere received by a major-domo — 
 the proprietor of this hacienda living at Calca, and only visiting his domain once a 
 year — my first care Avas to inquire of this individual if it Avere possible, in consideration 
 of my paying for it, to get something to eat. He replied that nothing Avould have 
 been easier if, for the moment, the larder of the hacienda had not been in a pitiable 
 condition. 
 
 " In our valley," he said, " Ave kill an ox every Sunday, and each buys a portion of 
 it, Avhich portion, you understand, lasts as long as it will — three, or perhaps four, days, 
 according to the number in family and the measure of their appetites. Generally, 
 Avhen Thursday arrives there is nothing left to eat but the bones. Noav you have 
 come on a Friday, and even our bones are gnaAved and picked clean; nevertheless, if 
 you like to wait till Sunday you will have a capital dinner of butcher's meat." 
 
 " Wait two days Avithout eating!" I exclaimed Avith indignation. 
 
 "No, no!" he said, laughing, "I don't mean that you are to eat nothing for two 
 days. I only said that if you like to Avait till Sunday you can have a dinner of fresh 
 meat," 
 
 "HaA r e you, then, something else to offer me ?" 
 
 " I have some chuho and maize." 
 
 "That sounds ill. I supped on chuno and maize yesterday; but no matter, let 
 me have it. EA r en Avith that one need not die of hunger." 
 
 The major-domo addressed a feAv Avords to a chola whom our colloquy had attracted 
 to the door. The Avoman disappeared ; and Avhile she Avent to prepare my dinner, my 
 host proposed that I should take a turn in the cacahual (cacao -plantation), Avhere 
 some detail of business required his assistance just now. 
 
 This plantation Avas badly kept, and even a little in disorder, a remark Avhich I 
 made to myself, but Avas careful should not be heard, knoAving how the truth grates 
 on a man's ears, moi'e especially when he has asked your opinion. I replied, therefore, 
 to the major-domo, Avho questioned me in this respect, that I had never seen, either 
 in the A r alleys of Paucartampu or in that of Soconuzco, renowned for this kind of 
 
374 
 
 PERU. 
 
 culture, a cacahual better managed than his. This was exactly the contrary of what 
 he deserved, but nothing has such a charm as a lie, and I had hardly uttered these 
 words of praise when the face of the major-domo was lighted up with a smile. " The 
 devilishness of human nature!" I said aside; "it is by nattering thy faults and thy 
 
 HACIENDA AND C AC AO-PL ANT ATIO N OF TIAN-TIAN. 
 
 vices, rather than by using the language of truth, that one acquires thy esteem, and 
 conciliates thy affection." 
 
 On reaching an open space in the plantation, covered with rank grasses and parasitic 
 loranthus (a species of misletoe), I saw several women squatted on their haunches, and 
 chattering like parrots. Each of them had a wooden mallet, with which she was 
 breaking the ligneous capsules of the cacao, from which she took the grain and 
 deposited it in a great osier-basket, after having despoiled it of its mucilaginous pulp. 
 This pulp, which has an exquisite taste when two days' fermentation has added to its 
 saccharine qualities a touch of acid, Avas thrown by each of the women into a tray 
 placed by her side. The cacao -harvest, which takes place at the period when the 
 capsules of the Theobroma Cacao, having come to their maturity, assume a beautiful 
 red tint, keeps the peons afoot more than a month, each tree only giving five or six 
 ripe fruits at the same time. It is necessary, therefore, to visit the trees every week 
 in order to gather their products. This harvesting employs few hands, it is true, but 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 375 
 
 it necessitates a continual surveillance, especially if the rainy season commences before 
 it is finished. 
 
 After having eaten the pulp of two or three capsules, and exchanged a friendly 
 good-day with the women, I returned to the house in company with the major domo. 
 My dinner was served in an earthenware salad-bowl. I called Miguel to take his 
 share; and when we had both finished, I thanked the major-domo fin- his boiled 
 churio and his kindness in showing me over the estate. Having paid this tribute 
 to politeness, I also paid him, with interest, for my dinner, and was soon far from 
 Tian-Tian. 
 
 The tian-tian, whose name has been conferred on this hacienda, is a bird of the 
 family of Conirostres, which Latreille has described as a crow, and Buffo n as a jackdaw. 
 Doubt in this respect is the less possible, considering that the first called his subject 
 Corrus, and the second Gfracus. Unhappily for the system of each of these illustrious 
 ornithologists, the tian-tian is neither a jackdaw nor a crow, but a pie; a slender, 
 delicate, darling petite-mattresse, having nothing in common with our frightful Euro- 
 pean margotj which has inherited all the vices of mankind. The tian-tian pie of Peru 
 is neither impudent, nor a pilferer, nor ill-tempered, nor a gourmand, and — more 
 important still — does not screech. You may put it into a cage, feed it with fruits 
 and grains, and, as a reward for the care you take of it, it is capable of whistling 
 an air, if you take the trouble to teach it. 
 
 Its size is that of a thrush, its eye is straw-coloured, and its beak a fine shining- 
 black. The base of the beak is surrounded with a blue, like cobalt, which extends 
 over the head to the neck, where it terminates suddenly. The back is of a bluish 
 ashen colour, the throat and breast are like black velvet, the belly is yellow as far 
 as the tail, which is long and cuneiform. The general appearance of the bird is 
 extremely elegant. 
 
 The tian-tian inhabits, on the flanks of the Oriental Andes, the vegetable region 
 known as the zone of quinquinas. Like the Peruvian cock-of-the-rock (tunki) he 
 loves the covert of great forests, shuns the light of day, and rarely ventures into the 
 plains. 
 
 While consigning these details to the note-book from which I have now extracted 
 them, I was dreaming of the hacienda of la Chouette, where our day's journey was to 
 end, and in spite of myself the ideal portrait of the unknown woman mingled its traits 
 with the real portrait which I Avas making of the tian-tian pie. If that chatelaine, 
 whom my imagination endowed with a thousand charms, lived in absolute seclusion 
 and admitted no visitor into her house, as my guide stated, it was more than probable 
 that she would shut her door, and not only refuse me food and lodging, but deprive me 
 of the pleasure that I felt it would be to offer her my homage. Nothing so disposes 
 one to gallantry as making a journey on a mule. The mere idea of the mysterious 
 Limanian inspired me at this moment with chivalrous sentiments worthy of Amadis 
 or Galahad. At a sign from her I already felt myself capable of trying the ascent 
 of the highest peak in the valley, of defying one after another all the bears and jaguars 
 of the forest, and of performing over again the antique labours of Hercules. 
 
376 PERU. 
 
 As I passed at this moment near a limpid brook, which contributed its waters to 
 the river, I pulled up my mule, and by means of a bit of string lowered my tin drinking- 
 cup into the stream. My only object in so doing was to quench my thirst, but leaning 
 over the liquid mirror in which my face was reflected, I felt suddenly — desole. The 
 thought flashed upon me how I could possibly present myself to the lady of my dreams, 
 even if the introduction were feasible, considering that my shirt, not having been 
 changed for four days and nights, was dirty and crumpled. This fact, so simple in 
 appearance, was sufficient to upset my house of cards. How, in fact, could I accost 
 a grand Limanian lady, and deposit at her feet my homage and my heart, with a 
 shirt so rumpled, so dirty, and so covered with flea-marks? Decidedly the thing was 
 impossible. She would only laugh in the face of such a chevalier; and as for me, I felt 
 that I should die of shame. " Renounce, then, the brilliant role you have intended," 
 I said to myself, " and pass simply for what you are— a poor devil of a traveller, with 
 reason enough to be grateful for any service rendered to him." 
 
 This determination taken, I felt at peace with myself, and, without caring to 
 ascertain whether my hair and my beard resembled candle-wicks or the hyacinthine 
 locks of Homer's exquisites, I continued my journey. As in the part of the valley 
 which we were leaving behind us, the scene was alternately barren and umbrageous. 
 In places where the soil was of sufficient depth, fine trees, surrounded with clumps 
 of creeping plants, decorated the landscape. Then, two or three miles further on, the 
 soil thinned away, and being insufficient to nourish the roots of the larger vegetables, 
 trees and plants disappeared as in the shifting scenes of a theatre. In their place 
 appeared the reddish-gray backs of bare hills, and spaces altogether sandy or covered 
 with a dry and brittle grass. These alternations of barrenness and comparative fertility 
 succeeded each other during half the clay. 
 
 After crossing one of these stony regions, I perceived, at a short distance from the 
 river, on rising ground, one of those daturas with violet flowers, so rare in Peru, and 
 which recalls imperfectly the Datura Stramonium found in certain parts of the south 
 of France. This tree, about ten feet in height, with its cordiform and somewhat 
 shaggy leaves, its beautiful bell-like flowers of a blackish violet hue, produced a charm- 
 ing effect. I drew near to consider it more at my leisure. One of its flowers hung 
 within my reach, and turned towards the ground the orifice of its corolla; I raised it, 
 and thrusting my nose to the bottom of its cone, I breathed voluptuously with closed 
 eyes its odour, an ineffable mixture of benzoin and bitter almond. At the instant 
 when I was asking myself, in a half swoon, if the perfume, that intangible and volatile 
 part of the flower, is not its immaterial soul, a pair of nippers suddenly seized my nose 
 and pinched it so hard, that I uttered a cry of pain and started back. Miguel, who had 
 gone on a few steps in advance, ran up, and seeing me hold my nose with both hands, 
 inquired what was the matter. With a gesture of fear I showed him the flower; he 
 gathered it up, and turned it over and over on every side. 
 
 "I don't see anything," he said. 
 
 "And I have not seen anything, but I have felt something; look at my nose." 
 
 The mozo looked ; there was a bloody spot, he said, on each wing of my nostrils. 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 377 
 
 As I assured him that I felt a sharp pain in the place, and feared that it had been 
 caused by some poisonous creature, he tried to reassure me by explaining that the 
 supposed monster might be s,cucaracha or a moscardon squatted in the flower, and which 
 I had disturbed in its sleep. The wound which this insect had given me would very 
 soon heal on my bathing it with cold water. Happily, the remedy was close at hand. 
 I took some water from the river, and burying my nose in my drinking-cup, resumed 
 
 THE HACIENDA OF LA LECHUZA (THE UWL). 
 
 niv journey, swearing eternal hatred against the Datura arborea and its violet 
 Mowers. 
 
 It was past five o'clock in the afternoon when we discovered a white house, hall- 
 hidden in foliage, at the base of one of those low hillocks called lomas, which bordered 
 the river. 
 
 "That is the hacienda of la Lechuza" (the owl), said Miguel. 
 
 My first care was to ask the mozo if my nose was red and showed the scar of its 
 double wound. As he assured me that nothing of the kind was visible, I felt a little 
 tranquillized. 
 
 Some minutes later we reached the hacienda — a little whitewashed dwelling, with 
 shutters painted green, and in all respects scrupulously neat. The trees which shaded 
 it were sapodillas, oranges, and genipas (Genipa americana). 
 
 vol. i. 48 
 
378 PERU. 
 
 At the noise made by our arrival two persons appeared on the threshold — a gray- 
 haired man wearing a poncho, and a cholita, jauntily dressed, in whom I recognized 
 one of those familiars who are employed by women of the world in their secret com- 
 missions. The girl had the cheeky look of Moliere's Dorine; the face of the man was 
 expressionless, but grave. 
 
 On seeing me alight he advanced, and saluting me with the mechanical politeness 
 of a domestic in a good family, inquired what business had brought me here. I replied, 
 purposely raising my voice, that I was a stranger on my way to Chaco, in the valley 
 of Santa Ana; that as the day was drawing to its close, and as the hacienda of la 
 Lechuza was the last inhabited place in the valley, I had taken the liberty to call, in the 
 hope that its proprietor would not refuse me a night's hospitality. As the man appeared 
 at a loss to reply, not daring, as it seemed, to take the responsibility of granting the 
 favour I asked, the chola vanished, but returned immediately. 
 
 "You can stay, monsieur," she said. 
 
 Then speaking to her companion in a low tone, he went to assist Miguel to unsaddle 
 our mules. 
 
 Meanwhile the soubrette had invited me to follow her into the hoiise. I passed 
 over the threshold into a square apartment, provided with a sofa-bed, on which was 
 a quilted mattress and an Indian covering. There were also four chairs and a console 
 table of rosewood, upon which was displayed in its glass niche an infant Jesus lying 
 on a bed. The walls were decorated with four oil-paintings, covered with a dirty crust. 
 They represented the Virgin Mary, St. Joseph, Ste. Eose the patroness of Peru, and 
 St. Torribio de Mogrobejo, Archbishop of Lima, born in Spain 1536, died in Peru 1606, 
 and canonized at Eome in 1727. 
 
 Before quitting me the cholita, whose equivocal smile and roguish looks were out 
 of all harmony with the religious decoration of the apartment, and with I know not 
 what sweet and mystic emanation which seemed to float in the air, told me that I could 
 either rest in the salon or walk in the garden while she prepared my repast. I chose 
 a promenade in the garden, and went out, leaving her to attend to her business. 
 
 Once outside, I pretended to be looking with admiration at the heavens, the 
 horizon, and the mountains: but in reality I was trying to make out the arrangement 
 of the house, which seemed to have five apartments besides its domestic offices. Having 
 a vague instinct that the chamber or boudoir of the unknown must look upon the 
 garden, I took my sketch-book to keep me in countenance, and sharpening a crayon, 
 strolled into a private inclosure. A Venetian window-blind in the midst of masses 
 of Spanish jasmine and daturas was the first thing that attracted my observation; and 
 beneath the blind was a stone seat. Certainly that is the apartment of the unknown, 
 I said to myself, while pretending to give all my attention to the flower-borders which 
 brightened up this little corner of the world, so marvellously adapted for meditation. 
 These flowers were neither rare nor brilliant. There were sweet-peas, a species of 
 sun-flower {Coreopsis), a species of primrose (CEnothera), some ornithogales (of the 
 family of L'diacece), and some mallows. But the care with which their slender stalks 
 were trained up and protected according to the habit of each plant proved that the 
 
CUZOO TO ECHARATI. 379 
 
 person who cultivated them possessed, besides a certain amount of horticultural know- 
 ledge, an extreme solicitude for these frail existences. A professional gardener might 
 have done better, but a woman only could have done so well. 
 
 Turning my back on the Venetian blind, the laths of which I observed to be lowered, 
 I walked to the end of the garden. Suddenly I uttered an exclamation of surprise. 
 In the midst of a basket surrounded with dwarf Scillce with red and green corolla, 
 which grow in stony lands, there bloomed a beautiful specimen of the Hibiscus 
 mutabifis, covered with large roses, which the length and heat of the day had caused to 
 fade and change from pure white to a violet purple. 
 
 While admiring this delicious shrub, which bore by the side of its faded flowers 
 numerous buds on the point of opening, I heard the laths of the Venetian very gently 
 move. Quick as thought I bent over the hibiscus, and pretended to examine more 
 closely the structure of its quinquelobate leaves. When I was tired of my posture, or 
 I judged that the unknown had had sufficient time to look at me, I walked slowly 
 towards the house. As I approached, the Venetian was again moved with the slight 
 noise of a bird poising on the wing. I sat down on the stone bench, opened my album, 
 and began to make a sketch of the garden. 
 
 While thus engaged, a crowd of ideas passed through my head. I imagined a pair 
 of blue or black eyes to be fixed upon me; but by what responsive look could I answer 
 two eyes which were invisible to me? Suppose I sing an ariette de circonstance? I 
 suddenly said to myself; that is one way of opening a conversation. But what shall 
 I sing? eh! pardieu, the song of the flowers; only let me try to sing it as little out of 
 tune as possible. I began humming, Somos hi jus del fuego ocxdto, . . . But most 
 probably the reader who honours my book with a perusal, has not more than half- 
 learned the language of Cervantes, and to save him the trouble of applying to a trans- 
 lator, I present him with the song in language with which he is familiar: 1 — 
 
 We are daughters of the fire that burns 
 
 To the centre of the earth ; 
 The dew of the morning fills our urns, 
 
 Aud the dawn attends our birth. 
 
 We are children of the air, 
 
 Aud the waters claim us too ; 
 But our proudest boast is our descent 
 
 From heaven's ethereal blue. 
 
 So frail our hold of earthly things, 
 
 Man's love but brings us death ; 
 But heavenward then we spread our wings — 
 
 For there we first drew breath. 
 And in the fatherland our place resume, 
 By breathing out our soul in sweet perfume. 
 
 I finished the last verse of my song and my sketch of the hibiscus, which I 
 had drawn in the midst of its red and green scillai, like a king surrounded by his 
 courtiers, at the same moment. 
 
 1 The song which the author has given in the elegant language of the French Academy, we have for the same reason 
 given in English, though it is not easy to preserve the exact measure as well as the spirit of poetry in a trans- 
 lation. — Th. 
 
380 PERU. 
 
 " How tiresome," T said in a loud and clear voice, " not to know the Spanish name 
 of this charming shrub. I would have written it by the side of the Latin one." 
 
 " We call it the mudadera," replied the voice of a woman, whose grave and slightly 
 subdued tone was attuned to sweetness. 
 
 " Merci, whoever you be," I replied, suddenly raising my head. 
 
 Quick as my movement was, it was exceeded in promptitude by that of the person 
 who spoke, for when I raised my eyes to the venetian-blind it was already closed. 
 However, the first step is taken, I said to myself; let us see about the second. 
 
 " Pardon me," I replied, " madame or mademoiselle, for I know not how I ought to 
 address you; but will you be so good as to tell me how it happens that this hibiscus, 
 or mudadera as you call it, is growing in the valley of Occobamba? it is the first time I 
 have seen anywhere in Peru this shrub, which I believe is originally from the East 
 Indies." 
 
 " It is a souvenir that was left to me by a person who ... is no more," said 
 the voice, with a certain amount of hesitation. 
 
 " I can well understand then that you wish to preserve it. A souvenir is like a 
 perfume of the beloved object, which survives it, and attaches itself to our soul as the 
 perfume of a flower to our hands, recalling the memory of the flower when it is no 
 more. But the valley of Occobamba is too near the Cordillera to resist its influence, 
 and a sudden lowering of the temperature would cause this shrub, accustomed to the 
 heat of a tropical climate, to perish." 
 
 "What is to be done then'?" sighed the voice. 
 
 " Surround it with every sort of protection ; preserve it from the night-air at a 
 certain period of the year, and, if possible, from the heavy rains of winter, which 
 cannot but be hurtful to it. If my fate, instead of condemning me to be a perpetual 
 wanderer over the earth, had made me your neighbour, I would gladly have shared in 
 your cares for the shrub you love. Perhaps between us we might succeed in pre- 
 serving it from certain death." 
 
 "You think, then, it is sure to die?" 
 
 "All that is born here below must die, madame or mademoiselle;... excuse 
 me if I do not give you the qualification which is your due, . . . but you have not 
 done me the honour to say how I ought to designate you. ..." 
 
 "Call me your sister." 
 
 "My sister! ah, well, so be it. That name is to me so much the sweeter to 
 pronounce, that it does not recall between us any tie of blood. In the intellectual order, 
 the title of brother and sister implies the union of two souls who love one another 
 without saying so, embrace without touching, and unite without mingling. . . . You 
 are the sister of my soul, . . . and I feel . . ." 
 
 "Pardon, monsieur, if I interrupt you; but the song that you were singing, and 
 which I heard . . . without intending it, . . . added to what you have said about 
 the mudadera, which you have condemned to perish, prove that you occupy yourself 
 with flowers, . . . that you love them: . . . one only speaks with enthusiasm of things 
 that one loves ..." 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 381 
 
 "I do, in fact, love flowers, dear sister, but not as they are commonly loved for the 
 material luxury they afford, the pleasure of the eyes, or the delight of the senses; I 
 love flowers for themselves, their mysterious nature charms and draws me powerfully. 
 If I were a believer in metempsychosis, I should say, that before being a man, I must 
 have lived in the bulb of an orchis, or in the onion of one of the Liliaceae, from the 
 irresistible sympathy which draws me towards those families of plants. Flowers possess, 
 I know not what, of that immaterial, and, so to speak, celestial essence which is 
 wanting to man, the pretended king of creation. In them all is softest grace and 
 poesy; the loves of flowers are as chaste as those of the angels; their kisses but the 
 ineffable mixture of their perfumes. They live on the air, as my song says; they are 
 watered with the dew; their hold on the earth is but slight, and they turn incessantly 
 towards the light which emanates from heaven. Then, how touched with humility, how 
 sweetly grateful they show themselves, for the affection and care we lavish on them ! 
 Man returns the devotion of his fellow-man by forgetfulness, indifference, or ingratitude. 
 The flower, on the contrary, repays in beauty, in brightness, and in perfume, every care 
 that we take of it. You see now why I love flowers ! " 
 
 "Ah!" said the unknown, as if her heart had been touched by a sharp sorrow. 
 
 Her exclamation was instantly repeated, as by an echo: I turned round. The 
 strange voice was that of the chola, who, seeing me seated on the bench, and hearing 
 me speak with her mysterious mistress, could not suppress that cry of surprise. 
 
 "Sefior, your supper is ready," she said. As I hesitated, the voice of the unknown 
 said in an undertone, 
 
 "Go!" 
 
 I followed the chamber-woman, and in the reception-room, on a small table, found 
 my supper laid. Nothing was wanting; neither silver, nor glass, nor a lace-bordered 
 serviette. For a man who for a long time past had eaten, squatted upon his heels, from 
 wooden bowls or earthen plates, and used his five fingers for knife and fork, this poetic 
 luxury of a table properly laid, while it added to the merit of the repast, at the same 
 time exalted the imagination and excited the appetite threefold. Thus, it was with the 
 appetite of a starved ogre that I attacked the poule-au-riz which composed the first 
 course, and that I hastened to despatch the sweet omelette which formed the second. 
 A cup of chocolate whipped a a molinillo (churned), and crowned with foam, completed 
 this princely repast, at the end of which the chola placed before me toothpicks and 
 a finger-glass, in which were floating leaves of mint. 
 
 Having returned thanks like a man who feels all the importance of the act which 
 he performs, I thought of returning to the garden to resume my dissertation on flowers 
 at the point where I had broken off. The fear of being indiscreet, however, had its 
 influence, and then the air was so pure, the sky so serene, the evening so mild, that 
 I thought a walk and a cigar would worthily crown my supper. One cannot always 
 talk flowers and psychology; and when we have passed thirty, all rapture is prejudicial 
 after a good dinner. I therefore went out and strolled, where chance led, till nightfall. 
 
 When I returned the chola was on duty at the threshold of the door. On seeing 
 me she advanced. 
 
382 PERU. 
 
 •• My mistress wishes to speak with you," she said. 
 
 I followed her into the garden, where she left me, after having motioned with 
 her hand to the stone seat. Hardly had I sat down when the laths of the venetian- 
 blind were raised. 
 
 " Monsieur!" said the unknown in her fine contralto voice, "for whom the night 
 seems to have a singular charm, I have thought that, before parting, you would not 
 refuse to render me a small service." 
 
 "My heart, my soul, my person, are at your disposal." 
 
 "I have need only of your pencil." 
 
 "My pencil?" 
 
 "Yes; have you not told me that the mudadera will die some day or other? 
 Well, be good enough to paint for me one of its flowers, under the various aspects 
 that it assumes at certain hours of the day; then if I lose the original, I shall still 
 have the copy." 
 
 I was so surprised by the request that I did not immediately reply. 
 
 "You hesitate, monsieur?" said the unknown. 
 
 "A thousand pardons, dear sister; no, I do not hesitate;.. . but permit me to 
 speak to you with entire frankness. It is more than a drawing, more than a painting, 
 that you require of me; it is a day of my time, and that time is measured out to me 
 with such parsimony that if I travelled day and night, like Isaac Laquedem, I shall 
 hardly reach, at the period fixed, my rendezvous on the other side of America." 
 
 "Then say no more about it," 
 
 " On the contrary," I replied, for I was moved by the tone of reproach with which 
 the unknown addressed me, " forget the words which escaped me, and which were 
 dictated by an imperious necessity. To-morrow, during the day, I will paint the 
 flowers of your hibiscus, since such is your desire. But, in return, will you not do 
 one thing for me? ..." 
 
 "What can I do?" 
 
 "A thing that will cost you little, and which will be of inestimable value to 
 me. Raise the veil which conceals you; do not let me go without having seen you, 
 that I may carry away with me the remembrance of your features with that of the 
 generous hospitality with which you have treated me." 
 
 "What you request is impossible," said the unknown. "Except the persons who 
 wait on me, no one will ever see my face till the day when God calls me to himself. 
 I have made a vow which nothing in the world can induce me to break; and you 
 riiay well believe, monsieur, that a woman must have had powerful motives to induce 
 her to retire from the world, and bury herself in this solitude. These motives I may 
 indicate to you, in order to extenuate, in some degree, the hardness of my refusal. 
 I have loved as people can love but once in a lifetime ; with that love which makes 
 of two beings one angel, and transports them from earth to heaven. Why love like 
 this should not be as enduring as it is impassioned, God only knows. Perhaps I have 
 in some way failed to play my part prudently as a woman; our incomplete nature 
 wants equilibrium: a woman either loves too much or not enough. In the first case, 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 :;*:; 
 
 the man wearies of her; in the second, she repels him. There is always danger that 
 a woman will make a shipwreck of her life between these two rocks. But these 
 reflections are painful and superfluous: it will suffice for you to know that on the day 
 
 A CONVERSATION THROUGH THE LATHS OF A VEN ET I A N - B L I N D, 
 
 when I found myself abandoned by the being to whom 1 had sacrificed everything, my 
 life became a burden; the world was hateful to me, and I chose in preference this 
 solitude, where for four years I have lived absorbed in memories of the past, feeding 
 on my own sorrow. After this confession you will understand, monsieur, that I cannot 
 and ought not to comply with your wish, however kind and flattering may be the 
 
384 PERU. 
 
 motive which has dictated it. You will leave this country never to return, and my 
 secret will be safe. The short time that you have remained here will not leave any 
 very lasting trace in your spirit. In a few days you "will probably have forgotten 
 the hacienda of la Lechuza, and the poor woman whose life is hidden in its solitude. 
 As for her, she will always remember the sympathy you have shown for her. Now 
 may I count on your kind compliance with my wish?" 
 
 "To morrow, as I said, I will Avith pleasure do what you require." 
 
 " God bless you, and return the kindness to you a hundred-fold. With the expres- 
 sion of my sincere gratitude, receive the assurance that my prayers will follow you on 
 your journey. . . ." 
 
 "I must not hope, then, before leaving, to exchange another word with you?" 
 
 "Alas! to what purpose would it be? You know all that I have to tell you. 
 To revert to the past were only to revive the most terrible sufferings. . . . Excuse 
 me if I leave you, and receive anew my thanks and my last adieu." 
 
 The unknown closed the venetian-blind, and I heard her shut the window. 
 
 "Poor creature!" I said to myself, as I mentally reviewed her recital, barren of 
 incidents, but full of sentiments and thoughts which I fully appreciated. " Thou hast 
 suffered from that superior law which rules alike all existences, but acts in each accord- 
 ing to its special organization. For thee, with thy lofty soul, love was an angelic 
 dream, while for thy companion it has been nothing but a vulgar pleasure." Then 
 rising from my seat, "It is strange," I said, "to have given to a woman the name 
 of sister, to have been the confidant of her secret sorrow, and now to quit her for 
 ever without having seen her face! Should I ever relate such a fact, my readers will 
 be scarcely able to believe it." 
 
 The major-domo while waiting for me had been conversing with my guide. After 
 showing me in the reception-room a mattress, neatly covered, which was to be my resting- 
 place, he presented me, in the name of his lady, with a bottle of Pisco brandy, 1 twelve 
 years old, the taste and bouquet of which he said were exquisite. From his enthu- 
 siastic and profoundly convinced manner, I judged that, as a good Limanian, he felt 
 a particular esteem for this beverage, unknown at Occobamba, and that the sight of 
 it reminded him of the happy time when he had drank it in bumpers in some bodegon 2 
 of the City of Kings. It would have been cruel of me to condemn the major-domo 
 to the fate of Tantalus: I therefore uncorked the bottle, filled my drinking-cup, and 
 presented it to him. He emptied it at a draught, and smacked his lips in sign of 
 satisfaction. Nor was Miguel, the mute witness of this scene, forgotten, only, for 
 reasons which the good sense of my readers will appreciate, instead of filling my goblet 
 to the brim, as I had done for the major-domo, I gave him but half that quantity of the 
 liquid. I then requested him to cork up the bottle and put it in my travelling-bag. 
 He went out, accompanied by the major-domo, who seemed quite lively. Left alone 
 
 1 This brandy, called Italia in the country, is made in the valleys of Pisco, Caiiete, &c, near Lima, with Malaga 
 raisins, which are called in Peru uva de Italia, or the grape of Italy. It may be compared for taste to old Armaguac 
 in which orange-flowers have been infused. 
 
 2 lioiUt/utt, a low-class driuking-place. — Tr. 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 385 
 
 I took possession of my couch, which was covered with luxurious white sheets of hue 
 texture and pleasantly perfumed, and was soon buried in that voluptuous sleep which 
 only those can enjoy whose consciences have nothing to reproach them with. 
 
 Awaking at an early hour, T dressed myself and went out to breathe the fresh air. 
 Day-break was already kindling in the trees; the bushes and the flowers were bathed 
 with dew. An indefinable odour filled the atmosphere. The summits of the hills 
 were slowly emerging from obscurity. Towards the east, in the northern extremity 
 of the gray twilight near the boundary of the horizon, and in an atmosphere which I 
 can only describe as an ineffable mixture of pearl-like light with sapphire blue, and 
 sombre shadow, the morning-star shone gloriously calm, touching the mountains, plains, 
 and woods, which were but indistinctly seen, Avith a serenity, a grace, and a melancholy 
 which it is impossible to express. It was as if a heavenly eye had opened lovingly 
 upon this beautiful and still sleeping landscape. 
 
 No one was stirring in the house. I went to the end of the garden to look again 
 at the shrub that I had to paint. One of its flowers had opened in the sweetest manner 
 to greet the dawn. Its milky whiteness reminded me of the cotton which the 
 Gossjipium allows to escape through its trilobate capsules. There was no time to lose 
 if I meant to paint this first phase of the flower of the Hibiscus. I re-entered the 
 house to select, in the largest of my albums, a spotless leaf, and to arrange my colours, 
 which had been a little upset by the jolting of my mule. I found a plate which 
 served me as a palette, and I had nothing more to do than to fill my drinking-cup with 
 water. 
 
 At six o'clock I was seated in front of the wonderful shrub, and occupied in 
 outlining my sketch. On a conventional branch, surrounded with foliage, I had traced 
 five expanded flowers, although at the moment there was really but one. These five 
 flowers, designed under various aspects, were meant to recall the five most striking 
 tones of the coloured gamut which the flower of the Hibiscus mutdbilis runs through 
 from the hour of its birth to that of its death. After two hours' work, my branch, my 
 foliage, and my first milk-white flower w y ere almost finished. At ten o'clock I had 
 painted a second flower of a pale pink colour; by mid-day my third flower, a bright 
 pink, was in full bloom; at three o'clock the fourth, a brilliant carmine, was finished; 
 and finally, at six, I put the last touches to the fifth flower, whose petals, already faded, 
 and of a violet purple colour, announced their approaching death, and the rapid 
 decomposition which was to follow. 
 
 Having completed the picture to my satisfaction, I wrote at the bottom, under the 
 date of the day and the year, these three words, Dalit fata secutus, and gave it to the 
 chola to carry to her mistress. She returned in a moment bringing the warmest thanks 
 of the senora, and giving me, with the recpiest that I would keep it for her sake, a 
 withered stalk of the nuccho, which, in the figurative language of the Quichuas, denotes 
 a blighted life. This floral mummy, which I placed between the leaves of an album, 
 and which survived all the vicissitudes of my journey, is still in my possession, carefully 
 preserved in a white satin sachet, bordered with a lace of gold. 
 
 I must confess, however, that the day, occupied with the painting of a flower in 
 
 vol. I. 49 
 
386 PERU. 
 
 five sittings, appeared to me interminably wearisome. Nothing but the idea that I 
 was imparting a satisfaction to the voluntary captive of la Lechuza could have 
 restrained my impatience and enabled me to complete my task. It was, therefore, with 
 real pleasure that I once more took possession of my couch in the evening, and with 
 still more lively satisfaction that I saw the white walls of the hacienda of la Chouette 
 disappear behind us in the morning. 
 
 "What insensibility of heart!" my fair reader will perhaps exclaim at this naive 
 avowal of my impressions. — Alas! madame or mademoiselle, you who have deigned to 
 follow me since I left the Port of Hay on the Pacific coast, know better than others 
 that my time is not my own, and that every hour which I spend in a digression, 
 though it be for charity's sake, is an irreparable loss. 
 
 When we had passed out of sight of the hacienda, Miguel, who had kept some 
 steps behind me, rode up and pushed his mule close to mine, as if desirous of entering 
 into conversation. I looked at him, his countenance was radiant; I saw by his eyes 
 and his lips that he was bursting to tell me something. 
 
 "You have something to tell me?" I said, interrogatively. 
 
 "Yes, monsieur, something that I am very certain you are far from expecting. You 
 recollect the taste of Pisco brandy that you gave the major-domo?" 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Your drinking-cup, though you may not know it, holds almost a cuartillo (almost 
 an English pint). The moment after he had emptied it, the major-domo was as 
 drunk as a lord. 1 In his random talk he not only told me his own history and that of 
 the cholita, but even the adventures of his mistress." 
 
 "You know, then, who this lady is?" 
 
 "As well as if I had known her the last ten years. Her name is the Donna Ines 
 de Vargas y Hurtado, or rather the Sor Maria de los Angeles, for she is a nun, who 
 has broken her vows and fled from her convent to follow a man whom she loved. 
 That man was a French physician. He lived three years with her and then abandoned 
 her." 
 
 I felt stupified by surprise. 
 
 "This is how it happened," continued Miguel: "Sor Maria was attacked by a malady 
 which the physicians could not heal, when they called in this Frenchman, who had 
 recently arrived at Lima. He prescribed for her, and paid her many visits. Beyond 
 this, no one knew that any understanding existed between them, nor what measures 
 they took; but one day, when the body of a nun who had died the evening before 
 was placed in the chapel to await its burial, the convent was found to lie on fire. 
 Before the fire was extinguished it had burned the refectory, and all the cells on one 
 side, including that of the Sor Maria de los Angeles, whose half-consumed corpse 
 was found in the ruins. It was naturally concluded that the poor girl, surprised by 
 the fire during her sleep, had not had time to escape. It was then arranged to bury 
 the remains at the same time as those of her late companion, but the corpse of the 
 
 1 The French equivalent of this common expression, used by the author, is, bleu comme un poissoti— "blue as a fish," 
 from the colour which fish assume when saturated with wine in one mode of cooking them. — Tr. 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 387 
 
 latter had disappeared. There Mas an anxious investigation, in the course of which 
 it was discovered that one of the legs of the corpse found in the cell of Sor Maria 
 showed traces of an ulcer. This fact led to the discovery of the truth. Sor Maria, 
 either alone, or aided by some one, had taken the body of the dead nun, placed it on 
 her bed, set fire to the cell, and then scaled the walls of the convent by means of a 
 rope-ladder. When the major-domo, who stuttered a little, had related these things, 
 I thought it was only the idle chatter of a drunken man; but when I laughed at his 
 story, he showed me a card upon which, he said, was written the name of Sor Maria's 
 friend. I cannot read, and therefore can make nothing of it. He put it back again 
 into the drawer of a table from which he had taken it. As we slept in the same room, 
 I found an opportunity to get possession of the card, and as monsieur knows how 
 to read, he can judge for himself if it is the name of one of his countrymen." As 
 he ended speaking, Miguel handed me a card, whose yellow and soiled appearance 
 testified that it had been kept in more than one pocket, or passed through more 
 hands than one. This card was engraved with a name, profession, and residence as 
 follows: — .„„., 
 
 ANDRE 
 
 Dooto iv Medico 
 
 Calle de San-Ildefonso, 63. 
 
 The name was altogether unknown to me, but I remembered having heard at Lima 
 of a nun being carried off by a French doctor, and the various incidents of the story, 
 from the corpse placed on the bed to the burning of the convent, coincided exactly 
 with what Miguel had learned from the major-domo. The good people of the country, 
 who had told me these particulars, added, that the poor nun, after being abandoned 
 by him she had loved, and for whom she had sacrificed her happiness in this world 
 and her salvation in the next, had wandered from province to province, oppressed by 
 the weight of public scorn, everywhere recognized and anathematized. There the 
 story, as I had heard it, ended. The names of the actors in this domestic drama no 
 one had ever been able to tell me; or rather, I had not asked for the information. 
 
 Four years had passed since this adventure, and, indeed, it had passed out of mind, 
 when, by the merest chance, I had suddenly discovered her who was thought to be 
 dead or an exile in foreign lands, and who, a modern Magdalene, expiated in tears 
 and repentance a love Avhich every one denounced as a crime. The fact that I alone 
 was not in the secret of her retreat, troubled me. Miguel, on returning to Occobamba, 
 would not fail to relate to his friend the alcalde the circumstances of our visit to the 
 hacienda of la Lechuza, and what he knew of the mistress of the house would certainly 
 be told with the rest. For his part, the alcalde would blazon abroad the story, and, 
 passing from mouth to mouth and from village to village, it would reach Cuzco. 
 From Cuzco it would pass to Lima, and there all the animosity and hatred of the past 
 would be revived. I conld nut bear to think of such a result, Sor Maria had suffered 
 enough already to have acquired the right of living forgotten by men, while patiently 
 awaiting the oblivion of the tomb. But to insure for ever her incognito, it was 
 necessary to compel Miguel to be silent and discreet by a bond stronger than interest. 
 This bond, or this means, I thought 1 had discovered. 
 
388 PERU. 
 
 "Have you served your turn in the army?" I suddenly asked, pretending to 
 examine again the name inscribed on the card 'which he had given me. 
 
 "No, indeed!" he said, "and God forbid I should have to do so; I have no fancy 
 either for the stick or the lasso." 
 
 "To say nothing of the danger of fire-arms and sabre-cuts," I added indifferently. 
 "Well, my good fellow, if you have no Avish to be enrolled under the flag of the 
 republic, and that before the month is out, take care to say nothing of what you have 
 heard. I will not return this card to you for your own sake, for if the alcalde of 
 Occobamba, or any one in the village, should see it in your possession, your business 
 would soon be settled." 
 
 "Sehor, what is it, in the name of Heaven?" exclaimed the man pale with fright. 
 
 "It is this, my friend; the French doctor whose card you have obtained from the 
 major-domo of la Lechuza, is now the physician -in -chief of the president of the 
 republic and his best friend, and if you speak to a single living soul about his 
 adventure with Sor Maria, or so much as mention the name of the latter, you will find 
 a corporal's guard at your door some fine morning, who will tie your hands behind 
 your back and take you to Cuzco, without sparing on the way the cuts of the lasso and 
 the blows of the stick, for which you have so little liking. I don't know what they 
 would do with you at Cuzco, my fine fellow, but I wouldn't give a copper centime for 
 your skin ! " 
 
 "For the love of God, senor mio, don't speak of such things, you make me feel 
 all over like goose's flesh. I swear that I will never tell one word of what I have 
 heard, I swear it by the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, and by the Virgin of 
 Bethlehem, conceived without sin," said the man, making the sign of the cross on his 
 forehead and devoutly kissing his thumb. 
 
 "If any evil comes of it, blame nobody but yourself: I have warned you," I added, 
 by way of reflection. 
 
 Miguel made no reply, but his scared look, and the mental bouletersement to which 
 he appeared a prey, convinced me that I had touched the right chord. The fear of 
 enrolment, stronger in him than regard for his oath or the allurement of interest, 
 was almost certain, by closing his mouth, to assure peace and oblivion, in default of 
 happiness, to her who had lost everything upon earth, and to whom there remained no 
 other hope, and no other support, than in God alone. 
 
 We continued to ride side by side, each occupied with his own thoughts. If mine 
 were not very gay, those of Miguel, to judge by the sighs which escaped him from time 
 to time, were still less so. The scenes through which Ave were travelling assumed, at 
 the end of every league, a character of barren Avildness, which harmonized Avell with 
 our mutual humour, if it did not contribute to its gloom. We had left behind us ' 
 the river and the plains which it fertilized, and Avere ascending, by paths Avhich 
 continually greAV steeper, the chain of lorn as which separate the A^alley of Occobamba 
 from that of Santa Ana. These apophyses of the Cordillera, which grew less and less 
 in size until they reached the plains, bore the name of Guckillas, on account of their 
 sharp summits, Avhich resemble the edge of a knife. The flora of these regions Avas 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 389 
 
 similar to that of the Andean plateaux and the eastern Hanks of the great mountain 
 chain. Large trees are rare; the smaller trees and shrubs there comprise a species of 
 caper (Capparis), a few laurels (Laurinoe), an Actinophyttum, and a species of myrtle 
 and Baccharis. Among the flowers which we find here and there, figure, in the first 
 place, a Be/aria with dwarf roses, a few Lysipomias, two Ericas, of the genus Vacciniwm, 
 the one an orange yellow, the other a greenish white; an Andromeda, of a pale pink 
 colour, a lovely blue gentian, and a purple Berberis. 
 
 In the degree that we ascended, the sharpness of the air, by giving tone to my fibre, 
 increased remarkably the cravings of my stomach. Miguel informed me that our 
 
 ■ ■ 
 
 THE VILLAGE OF CHACO. 
 
 sacks were full to bursting, and that I might dine when and where I pleased. 1 
 immediately dismounted and seated myself under the shade of one of those Capparis 
 ruidifolia, whose rough leaves serve like glass-paper for polishing wood. 
 
 The provisions which Miguel set before me were of a nature to satisfy the most 
 fastidious <j<>uriiirt. A roasted fowl, new bread, butter, fruits, two bottles of topaz- 
 coloured wine, which, after having tasted, I knew to be old orange-wine, 1 drew from 
 me, in spite of myself, that self-satisfied smile of beatitude in which a famished man 
 cannot help indulging when he finds himself face to face with a good dinuer. By way of 
 baud/ cite. I addressed a fervent prayer to God, in which the name and the memory of 
 
 1 This wine is made in the following manner: — The oranges are carefully collected by hand, instead of being knocked 
 or shakeu from the tree in the usual way, and are then exposed to the sun for three or four days. They are then cut 
 into slices without being peeled, and the juice, having been squeezed out by twisting the woollen cloth iu which the 
 slices are placed, is left undisturbed for twenty-four hours. The essential oil, which floats on the top, is skimmed off 
 with a spoon, or absorbed by a plug of cotton. The juice is then weighed, and to every arrobe (25 lbs.) of liquid is added 
 twenty lbs. of brandy 18 degrees above proof, and twelve lbs. of syrup of sugar. This mixture is thoroughly stirred up 
 and put iu jars or pots, which are covered up with wood and lime, and buried two feet in the ground. At the end of two 
 mouths the orange-wine may be drunk; but its quality is improved by age. 
 
390 PERU. 
 
 Sor Maria de los Angeles were mixed with unnumbered thanks for the excellent repast 
 which the poor nun had enabled me to make. 
 
 Having sufficiently recruited our strength, we resumed our route, continuing an 
 ascent which the state of the roads rendered very painful for our mules. It was sunset 
 when we descended the opposite side of the Ionia, and reached the village of Chaco, 
 picturesquely situated on the flank of a wooded mountain. From this place the view 
 embraced, in their majestic ensemble, the Aputinhia and the Urusayhua, two giant 
 mountains, remarkable for their perfectly regular outline, and which, situated, as they 
 were, on the right and left of the valley of Santa Ana, had the effect of sentinels placed 
 there on guard. 
 
 I had halted to enjoy the coup-d'oeil presented at that moment by the immense 
 valley, unrolled at my feet like a map in relief, painted in the natural colours. Away 
 from the base of the mountain, as far as the eye could reach, appeared a confused 
 succession and intermingling of wooded hills, water-courses, and forests, bounded in 
 three quarters by the snowy ridges of the chain of Huilcanota. A few villages with 
 their square towers and their pointed steeples, numerous cultivated patches and fields 
 of stubble, here and there a drifting cloud of brownish-red smoke, which indicated a 
 cleainng, or a shepherd or charcoal-burner's fire, were among the features of this 
 extended landscape. In the degree that the sun descended lower, mountains and forests, 
 villages and cultivated grounds, were enveloped in an atmosphere, which, becoming- 
 more and more dense, assumed also a bluish hue. Fluffs of cloud, which rolled up 
 from the bottom of the ravines, floated over the rivers and hovered above them like 
 flocks of swans. The distance seemed to be steeped in a violet fog, and the tone of the 
 landscape grew colder by degrees. Nature, over whom darkness and sleep already 
 spread their wings, seemed to smile, and pray, and bless her children before sleeping, 
 like a bird with her head under her wing. 
 
 For a moment I mused on this vast horizon, over which was spread the melancholy 
 charm of profound peace. Then as the day closed I entered the village of Chaco, where 
 Miguel had gone on before to announce my arrival to the governor, and to inform him 
 that I would sleep under his roof. This governor and his family had been long known 
 to me. AVc had always been on the most friendly footing with one another, and I was 
 next to certain that the decision I had come to without consulting him would be agree- 
 able to his wife and four daughters. 
 
 I was not deceived in my anticipation. My appearance in the house was hailed by 
 a concert of joyous voices, which proved better than any vain compliments what pleasure 
 it had given them to see me again after an absence of five years. The governor himself 
 went to unsaddle our mules, while Miguel looked on with his arms folded. The 
 governor's wife, a stout matron with a rather dark skin, left the washing with which 
 she was occupied to prepare my supper; while her daughters did the honours of the 
 house, or rather overwhelmed me with questions about myself, the incidents of my 
 journey, and my ulterior intentions; in a word, as to the manner in which I had occu- 
 pied myself during these five years, and the number of victims that I had immolated em 
 the altar of Cupid I 
 
CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 
 
 393 
 
 If this phrase, printed in italics to inform the reader that it is textnally exact, and 
 that I have neither added to nor diminished it by one iota, seem to the reader astonish- 
 ing- from the lips of the daughters of a governor, the youngest of whom counted eighteen 
 springs, and the eldest not more than twenty-four, I must enlighten him by stating 
 that bashfulness was neither the virtue nor the defect of these damsels. Brought up 
 by a father whose kindliness of nature had degenerated to apathy, and by a mother 
 
 A FAMILY SUPPEB WITH THE GOVEKNOK OP CHACO. 
 
 whose extreme tenderness amounted almost to blindness, these young girls had 
 vegetated like plants, and like plants also they had early turned themselves to the 
 quarter in which they were sensible of air and light. Their parents, far from opposing 
 these natural inclinations, had done their best to aid in their development by that 
 tolerance which was fundamental to their character. Age had only strengthened in 
 these girls that independence of spirit and that adventurous character which had 
 converted them into real Amazons. Often they quitted, together or separately, the 
 paternal home, and did not return till the next month, the cause or pretext for these 
 absences being a visit to some friend. The good governor, feeling assured of the 
 prudence and virtue of his daughters, did not disquiet himself on account of their 
 temporary absence, but waited patiently until it pleased them to return. As for 
 their mother, she was only proud and joyous when, after a month's absence more or 
 
 50 
 
394 PERU. 
 
 less, Ines, Carmen, Anita, or Visitacion re-appeared with a dress or a shawl that she 
 had not before possessed. Instead of troubling them with the questions which a mother 
 would feel it her duty to address to a daughter who should have left home in pink and 
 returned clothed in blue, the worthy matron was contented to express her delight that 
 her child should look so Avell in her new toilet. 
 
 To Quakers, Puritans, and other personages of rather starched manners, who might 
 be disposed to criticize these proceedings and to conceive ugly doubts as to the 
 daughters of my host, I would say that these usages and customs are common to the 
 capital cities and towns of Spanish America, and to the villages or hamlets comprised 
 in their jurisdiction; so that in place of taking offence at their behaviour, or pursuing 
 them with the cry of Raca, they are looked at approvingly and encouraged. Hence 
 the interest, nay the affection, which is ostensibly shown to the governor's four daughters 
 — they are bonnes Jilles, say the planters, managers, and major-domos of the valley 
 of Santa Ana, These simple words are their highest eulogium. 
 
 After having exhausted their questions, and listened to the replies which I judged 
 it suitable to give, they assisted their mother in preparing supper. The governor had 
 gone to knock at the doors of various houses in the village and demand from his 
 subjects, under the title of subsidies, some provisions to add to the repast. He 
 returned from his foraging expedition at the end of half an hour with eight eggs and 
 a bit of lard, which were devoted by the general voice to the preparation of an omelette, 
 the cooking of which I superintended. When all was ready we squatted round a mat 
 which served for a table, a chupe composed of dried mutton and yucca roots was 
 set in the midst, and each of us, furnished with a spoon, a fork, or a bit of sharpened 
 wood, helped himself as well as he could. As I was seated between Ines and Carmen, 
 the elder of the governor's daughters, I was helped by them in place of helping them, 
 in the Ando-Peruvian fashion. They took care to select the best morsels for me and 
 put them in my mouth, as often with their fingers as with a fork, a process which 
 agreed at once with my idle humour and appetite. When the turn of the omelette 
 came, the bonnes Jilles did the honours with so much grace and assiduity, that on 
 reckoning up the number of mouthfuls with which they had presented me I found I had 
 eaten their share as well as my own. For dessert we drank a bottle of the orange-wine 
 for which I was indebted to the munificence of Sor Maria de los Angeles, and this fine 
 beverage so raised the girls' spirits, that when the bottle was finished they proposed 
 a tune on the guitar and a little dance. The music I consented to from politeness, but 
 decidedly declined the dance, alleging my fatigue and the need of sleep. They insisted, 
 but I was firm. Finding their persuasions unavailing they left to me the free disposal 
 of my own person. I requested Miguel to prepare my bed in a trellised nook at the 
 end of the room, which had previously served for poultry. When it was ready I bade 
 the family good night and went to bed, leaving the girls, excited by the orange-wine, 
 dancing one with the other for want of a cavalier. 
 
 Early the next day I quitted Chaco, followed by my guide. We descended to the 
 valley by zigzag and very steep paths. After having crossed the river of Alcusama, 
 one of the affluents of the Rio de Santa Ana, and passed along one boundary of the 
 
CUZCO TO EOHARATI. 
 
 395 
 
 farm of Salamanca, we arrived at nine o'clock in the village of Ecliarati. There I 
 halted a moment to inquire of the alcalde the way to the hacienda of Bellavista, where 
 
 VILLAGE OF ECHARAT1. 
 
 I expected to find the luggage and various packages which I had requested to he sent 
 on from Cuzjco. These formalities completed, I had only to turn bridle and follow the 
 fine avenue of aloes which led from the village to the hacienda in question, which I 
 l-eached in about ten minutes. 
 
SIXTH STAGE. 
 
 ECHARATI TO CHULITUQTJI 
 
 (PERU). 
 

 
 
 
 
 " 
 
 mm ' - ■' . 
 
 
 HACIENDA OF BELLAVISTA. 
 
 SIXTH STAGE, 
 
 ECHAEATI TO CHULITUQUI 
 
 The hacienda of Bellavista. — An old acquaintance. — Rehabilitation of a manager who had become a sot. — Father 
 Bobo and Father Astuto. — All the truth and nothing but the truth. — Visit to the mission of Cocabambillas. — 
 The glass of lemonade and the silver spoon: apologue. — Proof that a Franciscan monk is the superior in diplomacy 
 of a travelling artist. — Details and portraits. — The author accomplishes a pious pilgrimage across the hacienda 
 of Bellavista. — A familiar epistle.- The secretary of "a most serene highness." — Nee pluribus impar. — One of the 
 lights of science. — "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity." — Thanks to some glasses of orange-wine, the author learns 
 a good deal of which he was before ignorant. — Meddle not with edge-tools nor with a niau's amour-propre. — 
 Departure for the banks of the Chahuaris. — The Antis Indians.— How the author tried to discover if the race of 
 mute dogs is extinct, as some of the learned believe. — While out botanizing, he finds not only flowers but cartouche- 
 boxes. — The mass at departure. — Exchange of farewells between those who go and those who remain. — Buen viage! — 
 First rapids and first salutes of the waves. — Mancureali. — An enormous capital represented by twelve iron hatchets 
 of Biscayan manufacture. — Illapaui.— Bivouac at Chulituqui. — A confidence which the author, and consequently 
 the reader, were far from expecting. 
 
 The hacienda of Bellavista, more generally known as the hacienda of Eeharati, in 
 consequence of its proximity to that village, is one of the most renowned in the valley 
 of Santa Ana. The cacao harvested and prepared there is superior in quality to that 
 
400 PERU. 
 
 of Pintobamba, if I may say so without offending the compilers of the prices current 
 of the market of Cuzco, who are obstinately bent on quoting the latter at a higher price 
 than the former. To readers of the matter-of-fact class, for whom such details may 
 have a special interest, I may say that this superiority of the Theobroma of Echarati, 
 which we are the first to make publicly known, without the least idea of claiming a 
 commission from its proprietor, has no other cause than the size and intelligent culture 
 of the trees which produce it, added to the elevation of the temperature which ripens it. 
 At Pintobamba that temperature does not exceed 73° F., whilst at Echarati it is as high 
 as 82° F. 
 
 The situation of the hacienda between the two wooded mountains of Urusayhua 
 and Aputinhia is most picturescpue. In the whole valley one would vainly look for a 
 site which combines so happily the beauty and splendour of masses with the elegaut 
 variety of details. At every step the point of view changes and charms the eye by some 
 new surprise. The artist may here supply himself with any number of studies; the poet 
 may find at his leisure sonnets ready made; the botanist enrich his collection with 
 plants and flowers in the richest profusion; and the zoologist fill his cases and paste- 
 board boxes with quadrupeds, birds, and insects, enough to furnish a museum. 
 
 The avenue of aloes, which connects like a bond of union the village to the hacienda, 
 opens at the latter end upon a space measuring about an acre square, divided by a 
 stream of rippling water. Grasses of all kinds grow freely in this spot and form a soft 
 carpet. This space — the court or yard of the farm — is bounded on the north by build- 
 ings en iiise, serving as cart-sheds and barns; on the south by the kitchen, the brew- 
 house, and the cottages of the labourers — humble cabins with latticed walls and roofs 
 thatched with stubble; on the east by an open garden; and on the west by a boundless 
 stretch of underwood or copse. Large and fine trees, some having nothing but foliage, 
 others covered with magnificent flowers, lend their masses to measure the distance. 
 
 My arrival roused the watch-dogs, who were chained to the posts of an open shed, 
 beneath which, sitting at a table, was the proprietor of the hacienda, a countryman 
 of mine who had come to America when quite young. His attention having been 
 called to my arrival by the barking of the dogs, he rose, ran to meet me, and as I 
 sprang from my mule pressed my hands affectionately in his. We had known each 
 other many years; Ave had travelled together, eaten from the same plate, drank from 
 the same glass, shared the same fatigues, undergone the same privations. It was there- 
 fore with heartfelt pleasure that we met once more after eight years' absence. Informed 
 of my intended journey by a letter which I had addressed to him from Cuzco, and 
 which he had received on the previous evening, he had of course expected me. His 
 first care, after seeing that I was served with refreshment, was to ask if I were fatigued 
 and wished to rest. As I told him I had slept well and felt quite fresh, he gave orders 
 for dinner, and proposed meanwhile that I should look over the domain of Bellavista, 
 which he had possessed three years. We walked through the cacahual, the plantations 
 of coffee, coca, and yucca, the appearance of which merited nothing but praise. While 
 making this round at a very leisurely pace, that I might examine everything at my ease, 
 my compatriot talked about his commercial operations, and complacently discounted 
 
ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 401 
 
 their future success, to which, from affection for him, T added some encouraging 
 figures. Insensibly our conversation diverged from the present to past times, each 
 of us recalling the incidents of every kind which had happened in those old days. We 
 had known each other in the valleys of Carabaya, where I was accustomed to amuse 
 myself with my gun, and where my host at that time possessed a latadero, upon 
 which he had founded magnificent hopes, which, however, were nipped in the bud, 
 entailing upon him a loss of some fifty thousand francs — that is to say, of all that he 
 possessed. This disappointment had Aveakened without destroying his confidence. 
 His sanguine and vigorous temperament very quickly recovered the shock. From the 
 eastern side of the Andes he had crossed over to the western, and after an interval 
 of four years I had found him in the valley of Tambo cultivating sugar and cotton. 
 At this period we had explored together the sandy region of the Littoral comprised 
 between the 16th and 18th degrees of latitude, each indeed with a different end in view, 
 but conjointly braving hunger, thirst, and heat. How often, for want of other food, 
 we had supped upon raw shell-fish and a handful of algse collected on the shore! 
 How many nights we had passed together stretched upon the sands, listening to the 
 noise of the sea and gaping at the stars, or sleeping the sleep of the blessed with a bit 
 of wood, cast up by the sea, for a pillow! With the remembrance of these privations 
 and miseries, occasionally broken by sallies of nonsense and bursts of laughter, were 
 connected numerous episodes gay or sad, which we continually recalled to each 
 other, prefacing them with the customary formula, " You remember, don't you? . . ." 
 
 This conversation, wholly retrospective, so absorbed my attention that I followed 
 my guide through bushes and thickets, careless of the wounds made by their thorns, 
 which however did not spare my legs. In his character of landed proprietor my friend 
 led me to every corner of his domain, without dreaming that I knew every turn in it 
 as well as himself. In consideration of our old friendship I allowed myself to be quietly 
 towed behind him for at least an hour; then seeing that my host was directing his steps 
 towards the woods which extended to the west of the property, I stopped short and 
 asked him if it was his intention that we should have a bath before dinner. 
 
 "A bath!" said he; "do you wish to bathe?" 
 
 "I! not the least in the world; I only remarked that we were taking the road to 
 the Baignoire & Gaspard, that is to say, a hole six feet square, dug by one of our 
 compatriots who once owned this hacienda under the name of the Sieur Hermene- 
 gildo Bujanda, of whom you bought it." 
 
 " That is true," said my host with a gesture of disappointment, " I had forgotten 
 that you lived two months on this estate, though I remember now that you climbed 
 the Urusayhua and planted upon its summit a glorious flag." 
 
 " Simply a sheet off the bed ; and it was that same Gaspard who accompanied me 
 in the ascent, who wished to plant it at that height to flout the people of the village, 
 as old and young had predicted that Ave should never reach the top." 
 
 " Apropos of that Gaspard," said my host, " there is a report m the country that 
 he has misled a young girl and ill-used her mother, whom I know. I had the facts 
 from Don Hermenegildo Bujanda. . ." 
 
 VOL. I. 61 
 
402 PERU. 
 
 "Your Bujanda," I replied coldly, "is nothing but a jester; I can give you the 
 proof." 
 
 "Pardieu! you will do me a pleasure. Among foreigners the honour of a French- 
 man is for me that of France, and I felt really mortified on hearing a man of the 
 country say anything evil of one of ours." 
 
 At the instant when I was about to give my host the explanation which he expected, 
 and with which some of my readers are already perhaps partly acquainted, 1 we reached 
 the end of the cacahnal. A chola presented herself, and advancing to meet us, an- 
 nounced that dinner was already served. We stepped out briskly, and entering the 
 court or open space already described, I saw at a glance, under the shed which served 
 in turn both as a dining and reception room, that a dish of smoking viands had been 
 placed in the centre of the table, and on either side of it two plates of brown earthen- 
 ware. The bareness of this service recalled to my memory a fact which I had forgotten, 
 namely, that my compatriot was a man of simple tastes, and ate only to live, instead 
 of living to eat. We dined. When the dish was emptied Ave had some oranges for 
 dessert, and the repast was crowned by a cnp of coffee, filtered a la chausselte according 
 to the custom of the country; its colour, a little ambiguous, amply compensated by its 
 fine penetrating aroma. Then each of us lighted a cigar, and while we puffed the smoke 
 in each other's faces, I chatted with my host about my affairs, apprised him that my 
 luggage might arrive from Cuzco at any moment, and that it was imperatively necessary 
 I should go to the mission of Cocabambillas to arrange for the hire of a canoe and a 
 couple of rowers. With this craft I reckoned upon ascending the river of Santa Ana 
 as far as the first village of the Antis. There I meant to return my canoe and my 
 civilized rowers; and borrow or hire others from the Indian savages, with which to cross 
 the Sacramento Plain as far as Sarayacu, the central mission, where I should be 
 sure of obtaining the means of further transport. Having explained my plan, which 
 I believed simple and of easy execution, my compatriot shook his head with an air 
 which presaged no good. 
 
 "Do you know the owners of Cocabambillas V he asked. 
 
 I replied that I had sometimes seen at Cuzco Fra Bobo, the elder of the two chiefs 
 of the mission; that I had even dined with him there in company with a Spaniard, his 
 compatriot, but that Fra Astuto was unknown to me. 
 
 "So much the Avorse," said he; "Fra Astuto is the head and soul of the commer- 
 cial association, Fra Bobo is nothing but the arm. If you are ignorant of their history, 
 I will relate it to you. The first is a Catalan, the second a Biscayan; both belong to 
 the order of St. Francis; both Avere brought up at the apostolic college of Ocopa, which 
 they left about thirty years ago to establish themselves at Cocabambillas, a mission 
 which the Jesuits had founded, but which they were compelled to abandon on their ex- 
 pulsion from the country. When bidding adieu to the grateful leisure of the monastery, 
 and to the luxurious life which the monks lead in their convents of the Sierra, Fra Astuto 
 and Fra Bobo had probably no other end in vicAV than that of turning to the worship of 
 the true God the poor idolaters, and perhaps of promoting their civilization. But on 
 
 1 Scenes et Puysuges dans les Andes, 2d series, 1SG1. 
 
ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 
 
 403 
 
 arriving here the ideas of our Franciscans became a little modified; they discovered that 
 the Indians, whom they had expected to find established in the neighbourhood of the 
 mission, were really from twenty-five to thirty leagues distant, that there was only one 
 road into their hunting-ground, and that this road was a turbulent river, the navigation 
 
 FKA BOBO AND FRA ASTUTO. 
 
 of which presented a thousand dangers. This discovery cooled the zeal of the two 
 monks. After deliberately reflecting on the situation, they tacitly agreed that it 
 would be ridiculous to expose themselves to misery, hunger, and martyrdom, or perhaps 
 leave their bones at the bottom of the river, for the small glory of converting to the 
 true faith a few dozens of red-skins; that much better would it be to establish 
 themselves at Cocabambillas, exchange the white stick of the missionary for the spade 
 of the farmer, and, profiting by the clearings effected by the Jesuits, cultivate sugar, 
 
404 PERU. 
 
 coca, coffee, and cacao, and so manage to live an honest, pleasant, and laborious life. 
 Following up this process of reasoning, which was deficient neither in egoism nor 
 in logic, our monks threw off their gowns, allowed their hair to grow, and thought of 
 nothing but their material interests. If now and then they still say a mass, it is less 
 to acquit their conscience, than to keep up a certain prestige in the eyes of the devout 
 people of the country, and to make these sheep more easy and generous in commercial 
 transactions with their shepherds. 
 
 Here I thought it my duty to interrupt the narrator, to tell him that his account 
 scarcely agreed with that which I had received from Fra Bobo himself. But, without 
 giving me time to go on: 
 
 " Fra Bobo," he said, " will have told you that in 1806, moved by the desire of being- 
 useful to the poor savages whom he called his brothers, he had embarked on the river 
 of Santa Ana, descended it as far as Sarayacu, and then taking to the country had 
 reached Moyobamba, penetrated to Chachapoyas, and finally arrived at Lima, where the 
 population had plaited crowns for him. ..." 
 
 "Ah! well, what have you to say to that?" 
 
 " That the foundation of the story, that is to say, the journey of Fra Bobo, was a 
 reality, but the motive which he assigns for it is a mere invention. The facts are these. 
 In 180G the two monks had serious quarrels, the subject of their disagreement being 
 a question of money. One of them is avaricious, the other extravagant. Where the 
 first would hoard up real upon real, the second would sow piastres broadcast. One 
 day when Fra Bobo had lost at play a large sum on his parole — there is heavy play 
 among the cultivators here on the commemoration days of their patron saints — and 
 knew not how to acquit himself of the debt, he heard of a reward of four thousand 
 piastres which the viceroy Abascal had offered to any explorer hardy enough to dare 
 the journey from Santa Ana to Lima by the water-course of the interior. The 
 opportunity was too tempting to be neglected. Fra Bobo accomplished the voyage, 
 received the reward, and as, apparently, he could not live without his companion 
 Astuto, he rejoined him after a year's absence at Cocabambillas. Since then they have 
 continued to live together, and to work in common, continually wrangling, sometimes 
 sulking, but always ending by becoming friends again." 
 
 " You appear so well posted up in the history of your neighbours," I said to my 
 host, "that one would almost believe you have had a bone to pick with them." 
 
 "What can give you that idea?" 
 
 " The charitable manner in which you speak of these good monks. Have they 
 by chance interfered with your cacao trade?" 
 
 My compatriot smiled. 
 
 " We have always been friendly enough," he said. " On my arrival here they 
 paid me a visit, and I visited them in return. There our relations ended. As to the 
 competition of which you speak, it is impossible between us. They cultivate sugar, and 
 I cacao; but to punish you for your bad thoughts, I will say no more. If you wish 
 for more precise information concerning these Franciscans, you must go to Cocobam- 
 billas, and inquire for yourself." 
 
ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 405 
 
 "So be it; as it is hardly three o'clock I can go to-day; what distance is it to the 
 mission ?" 
 
 " Between three and four miles, and I can give you a guide." 
 "Thanks; I have my mozo from Occobamba, Who knows the road." 
 
 A LIANA CALLED ET THE NATIVES YAHUAR CENCCA (BLOODY NOSE), AND BY BOTANISTS 
 
 THE ERYTHRINA SPLENDEX3. 
 
 I sent to seek my mules in the pasture, had them saddled, and in ten minutes more 
 had quitted Bellavista in company with Miguel. On the road the honest fellow confessed 
 that the valley of Santa Ana, notwithstanding its picturesque beauty, its haciendas, and 
 its extent of culture, pleased him less than the Pueblo of Occobamba. This was telling 
 me plain enough that he would be delighted to return to his pennies, and I promised him 
 that on our return to Bellavista I would gratify him in that respect by signing his exeat, 
 that is to say, settling his bill. 
 
406 PERU. 
 
 The road which led from Echarati to Cocabambillas wound along the base of the 
 cerros, which bound the valley southward, and rise to a height of some 600 feet above 
 it. One's eye continually wandered over this valley almost unconsciously. Through 
 plantations of sugar and coca, through fields of maize and unfilled lands, covered with 
 a vegetation lively rather than lusty, the river sped along, seeming of the colour of tin, 
 diversified here and there by the white foam of a rapid. This road, now flat and 
 horizontal, now hilly and furrowed by the bed of a torrent or the crevice of a wheel- 
 rut, presented many curious details, full of interest for the traveller sufficiently at leisure 
 to observe them. Fromagers (trees of the sterculiaceous family) and Robinias (locust- 
 trees), with their sturdy trunks and their parasol-like leafage, threw across this road 
 great belts of blue shade; leafless Azaleas, or Jacaraiulas with fallen blooms, strewed 
 it with white, yellow, or violet flowers ; tree-ferns decorated its slopes with splendid 
 aigrettes; while clumps of Passiflonr, Convolvuli, and bright red ErythrmoB, the 
 papilionaceous flower of which, whose vexillum is of an extraordinary length and 
 shaped like a nose, has received in Quicb.ua the name of Yahuar Cencca (bloody nose), 
 adorned it as with floating curtain and elegant draperies. 
 
 While I was wrapped in admiration of all these beautiful objects, I saw before me, 
 at the end of the road which it barred, like a sign-post or a landmark, a corpulent tree 
 of the family of the Mimosce, in which I recognized an algaroba. Behind it appeared a 
 group of walls surmounted with roofs of stubble. 
 
 "There is Cocabambillas," said Miguel. "The tree that you see has come from a 
 seed planted by the Jesuits; it must be a hundred and fifty years old." 
 
 "How do you know that?" I asked. 
 
 "Because all the world knows it," he replied. 
 
 Before I had time to realize my astonishment at being the only person ignorant of 
 so simple a thing, we arrived at the door of the mission, a long and low-built cabin, 
 sufficiently wretched in its aspect, and the noise we made brought some one to the 
 threshold. This individual was about fifty years of age, tall of stature, lean of body, 
 and thin of countenance; his whole physiognomy sharply set, his complexion pallid, and 
 his hair like candle-wicks. He was dressed in a short coat of coarse blue stuff, and wore 
 a tall and wide-brimmed sombrero of palm-straw. An inward voice admonished me 
 that this personage was the monk Fra Astuto, and I should have compared him with 
 Beaumarchais' Basile, if the look he cast upon me had not recalled the meditantis ictum 
 obliquum of Horace's boar, 1 seeking to discover an enemy. Although this look, 
 the monk's face being coloured purple by the setting sun, had nothing sympathetic 
 or even attractive in it, it did not trouble me; but dismounting, I saluted the personage, 
 and asked him if his reverence Fra Juan Bobo was at the mission. "Fra Bobo is a 
 friend of mine," I added; "I knew him at Cuzco, where, with one of his compatriots, we 
 have dined pleasantly together, and I should be charmed to shake hands with him." 
 
 On hearing me speak of his colleague as a friend, and of our companionship at the 
 table, my reverend friend smiled grimly, and invited me into his house. I followed 
 him, and as, after I hail seated myself on a bench to which he pointed, I took out my 
 
 1 Hor. Od. iii. ±1, 7. 
 
ECHARATI TO CHU LITI' «,) U I 
 
 40; 
 
 pocket-handkerchief to wipe the perspiration which was streaming from my forehead, he 
 offered me a glass of lemonade, which I accepted, and winch he prepared himself with 
 moist sugar and the juice of a lemon. To mix it more perfectly, he tools out of a cup- 
 board a small silver spoon, stirred the beverage with it, and begged me to taste and 
 tell him if it was to my liking. I drank a mouthful and assured him it was exquisite. 
 Then, as I again lilted the glass to my lips, I observed that he had carefully withdrawn 
 
 MISSION OF COCABAMBILLAS. 
 
 the spoon. As Fra Astuto saw me for the first time, ami could not know whether T was 
 capable or not of stealing a bit of plate from the houses where I was received, I took 
 no notice of his mistrust; but even went so far as to find an evangelical and rational 
 motive for it in the idea that he had removed the spoon out of my sight in order that 
 I might not lie led into temptation. 
 
 While I drank my lemonade he informed me that his colleague had gone to carry 
 the viaticum to a hacendero of the valley who was on the point of death. Fra Bobo, 
 he continued, might be absent eight days, or even ten days, or a fortnight, because he 
 would take advantage of his journey to confess some pious persons, visit some who 
 were sick, relieve the poor, ami console the afflicted. . .. On his return, however, I 
 will not fail to tell him of your welcome visit, and I am sure I may express to you in 
 advance the regret he will feel at not having seen you. 
 
408 PERU. 
 
 This latter phrase was of the class which is considered, in a Parisian drawing-room, 
 as a polite formula of dismissal, after which one has nothing to do but to rise, take 
 one's hat, and retire as quickly as possible, under penalty of passing for an espece (nice 
 specimen), or a man just arrived from Monomotapa. But I was at Cocabambillas and 
 not at Paris, a circumstance which singularly altered the bearing of things and the 
 value of words. So, instead of taking leave, as I should have done in the capital of the 
 civilized world, I settled myself more comfortably on the bench, took my cigarette case 
 out of my pocket, and presented it open to Fra Astuto. The monk accepted one; I 
 also took one myself, and having lighted it with the help of my mechero, I offered it to 
 the monk that he might light his. As this manoeuvre seemed to disquiet him, I thought 
 it as well to apprise him of the real motive of my visit. I finished by requesting 
 the use of a canoe and two rowers, for which I offered to pay the customary price 
 of fifteen francs, or the value of that sum in merchandise, for each stage of thirty miles. 
 
 As he listened to me, the monk grew pale and red by turns, showing evident signs 
 of impatience, and when I arrived at my request for the loan of a canoe and rowers, his 
 face contracted like that of a newly-born child suffering from colic. 
 
 "What you ask is impossible," he said, when I finished. 
 
 "Nonsense!" I said unceremoniously, "my request is one of the simplest in the world." 
 
 "Listen," he rejoined; "you are a friend of Fra Bobo, and in that character I will be 
 frank with you. I have no canoe; and if I had, I should be sorry to let you have it, 
 because it would be simply assisting in your destruction, and supplying you, so to speak, 
 with a pistol with which to shoot yourself. As to the rowers, were you to offer five 
 hundred piastres to the mozos of the country to venture on such a journey, they would 
 at once refuse it. They have all a dreadful fear of the Chunchos, and nothing in the 
 world would tempt them to set foot on the territory of those infidels. Take my word 
 for it, and renounce your project, which I regard as a perfidious suggestion of the evil 
 spirit." 
 
 "Impossible!" I said to the reverend father, who seemed to watch my reply; 
 "a friend will be waiting for me in Brazil, and I am under a promise to rejoin him there." 
 
 " How will you do it ? The river is the only practicable road, and unless you can 
 descend it by swimming, or walk on the waters like the Saviour on the Lake of Gen- 
 nesaret, I see no means by which you can rejoin your friend." 
 
 "I, however, see one means," I said: "the fete of Carmen takes place in six days. 
 Every year at that epoch the Antis Indians come to barter with the inhabitants of 
 Echarati apes and parrots for hatchets, knives, and beads. I will profit by the departure 
 of the Indians to take passage in their canoes. The rest concerns myself alone." 
 
 An almost imperceptible smile sat on the lips of the monk. 
 
 "That indeed is one way," he said; "but it is risky." 
 
 "I agree with yon, my reverend friend," I rejoined; "but I have no choice in the 
 matter." 
 
 From this point the conversation between us could only become tedious. I took 
 leave of the monk, mounted my mule, and returned to Bellavista, vexed enough by the 
 poor result of my negotiation. My compatriot had impatiently awaited my return. 
 
ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 409 
 
 Before I could open my lips my downcast look apprised him that I had bad 
 news. 
 
 "Well?" said lie. 
 
 I related in all its details my interview with Fra Astuto, the conversation we had 
 had together, and ended by deploring the absence of Fra Bobo, whose influence on this 
 occasion would have been useful to me. 
 
 "Fra Astuto," he said, "has treated you like a child. His refusal to let you have 
 a canoe allows no room for doubt that your enterprise is not agreeable to him, and 
 he fears the consequences of it, You are not the only one to whom our neighbour has 
 interdicted, in a manner, the descent of the river. He has long regarded the interior 
 of the country as a garden of the Hesperides, of Avhich he has constituted himself the 
 guardian dragon." 
 
 The allegorical style of my compatriot appeared to me so obscure that I begged 
 him to use plainer language, that I might not only comprehend what he said, but what 
 he meant to say, when speaking of the monk's dislike for my journey from Peru to 
 Brazil. 
 
 "The fact is," said he, "the relations which Fra Astuto has cultivated with the 
 Antis and Chontaquiros Indians by the agency of his cholos have made him aware that 
 the interior of the country abounds in cacao, vanilla, and sarsaparilla, to say nothing 
 of medicinal plants, dye-stuffs, and woods suitable for various purposes of construction 
 which industry and commerce might render available. His fear — and that fear prevents 
 him from sleeping — is that an explorer, after having verified these resources, would 
 not fail to make the Peruvian government acquainted with them, and to obtain the 
 necessary authorization to work this mine of wealth. Hence the difficulties and the 
 obstacles of every kind which our missionary conjures np to deter the traveller and the 
 curious, whom the love of science or of nature might induce to extend their travels 
 beyond Cocabambillas. In every unknown traveller Fra Astuto sees an adventurer 
 ready to possess himself of a fortune which the monk does not precisely enjoy, but 
 which he is in the habit of regarding as his own. Do you now begin to understand?" 
 
 "I confess that I have some difficulty in believing. ..." 
 
 " You will find it less difficult when I inform you that Fra Astuto, who tells you 
 he has no sort of craft at his disposal, is the proprietor of four canoes, in good 
 condition; that he has besides, at his disposal, a dozen vagabonds able enough to 
 manage them, and ready at a sign from him to undertake the enterprise. As to the 
 pretext by which he has thought fit to account for the absence of his colleague, it is 
 a downright lie. Fra Bobo, so far from having gone to carry the viaticum to a dying 
 man, is gone in company with some cholos to explore a forest of quinquinas, on this 
 side of Putucusi, at the confluence of the rivers of Lares and Santa Ana. Now that 
 you are informed of all that you ought to know, what will you decide to do?" 
 
 " I will wait the arrival of the Antis, and avail myself of their departure to begin 
 my enterprise. It is a delay of six days, but what am I to do ? I must try to redeem 
 the lost time." 
 
 "Have you made Fra Astuto acquainted with your project?" 
 
 vol. I. 52 
 
410 PERU. 
 
 "Certainly." 
 
 "You had better have concealed it from him. Heaven grant that he does not 
 conceive the idea of sending an express to his good friends the Chunchos to inform 
 them that this year the smallpox has broken out at Cocabambillas, in which case they 
 would turn back to escape the contagion." 
 
 "Is then the devil incarnate in this Fra Astuto V 
 
 " Fra Astuto is a monk without faith, and as such is worse than a merchant ; 
 that is all." , 
 
 Dinner having been served, we seated ourselves at the table. My visit to the 
 mission, and the vexation I had experienced, had taken away my appetite; but if I did 
 not eat, my compatriot ate enough for two, which came to the same thing. That night 
 I settled my accounts with Miguel, and added to the small sum I had agreed to pay 
 him the gift of a pour-boire, leaving him free to return to Occobamba whenever he 
 pleased. Whilst bidding him farewell I gave him a meaning look, and putting my 
 finger to my lips, like Harpocrates, I articulated distinctly in Spanish the word 
 remember of Charles I. The mozo understood so well the caution hidden under these 
 eight letters that he turned pale, and murmured as he shook his head — 
 
 "There is no danger of my ever breathing a word." 
 
 My sleep that night was broken by spasmodic starts and painful dreams, in which 
 the pallid figure of the monk Astuto passed and repassed before my eyes. Now in 
 profile, now in full face, lighting like a sickly moon a foggy landscape, mingling with 
 a crowd of strange beings with red skins, half-naked, armed with bows and arrows, and 
 wearing head-dresses of coloured feathers. These frightful spectres, seen by a light 
 emanating from themselves, appeared and disappeared in turn, like the sparks which 
 we see running over burned paper. The first glimmer of daylight put an end to this 
 nightmare. It was with inexpressible relief that I hailed the dawn, and went out 
 to breathe the fresh air of the morning. In the west the heavens presented a succes- 
 sion of blue, black, and orange tints, which, as they spread towards the east, where 
 the sun Avas about to rise, mingled one with another, and melted into an exquisite blush, 
 like a rose with a hundred blooms. I had never before so well understood the local 
 epithet of rododactulos (rosy-fingered) which Melesigenus gives to the daughter of 
 Heaven and Earth. 
 
 All was still sleeping in the hacienda, even to the watch-dogs, savage and terrible 
 beasts, much feared by the Indians. On seeing me cross the court they opened one 
 sleepy eye, and flapped the ground with their tail, as much as to say, that as a friend 
 of the house I might go and come without fear. I took my chance with the first path 
 that presented itself, and soon found myself in a wilderness of underwood and high 
 shrubs, which rose above the heads of the Mimosa? (varieties of Iiiga) and the geni- 
 pahuas. This wooded landscape was veiled with a bluish shade. There was an unquiet 
 rustling in the branches; the becfins (song-birds of the genus Sylvia), sitelles (a siiecies 
 of nut-hatch), and tangaras began to prune their feathers, stretch their wings, and 
 commence, mezzo voce, their prayer to God, which the first rays of the sun would change 
 into an ecstatic hymn. 
 
ECHARATI TO C11ULITUQUI. 
 
 411 
 
 The geography of the hacienda was so well known to me that 1 could easily find 
 my way through this sylvan labyrinth, in the windings of which a stranger would have 
 been lost. Turning my back to the south, I went northward, putting aside as well 
 as I could the thorns, the shoots, the needles of a hundred hostile plants which harassed 
 me on my walk, and thus scrambling along, arrived at the edge of the barranca, or per- 
 pendicular talus which bounded the farm of Bellavista on the side of the river and of 
 Urusayhua. The old mountain, which I now gazed upon after live years' absence, 
 had still that formidable look which had struck me on my first visit, Not only did 
 
 THE URUSAYHUA, A MOUNTAIN IN THE VALLEY OF SANTA ANA. 
 
 it dominate the whole landscape, but it gave to neighbouring objects the most Liliputian 
 proportions. Near it enormous masses of detached rock looked like ordinary stones, 
 and trees a hundred feet in height, standing on the lower terraces, seemed like frail 
 grasses. The rays of the sun, now above the horizon, bathed in full daylight the head 
 and shoulders of the Colossus, but had not yet reached his base. All that part of the 
 landscape cut from west to east by the river of Santa Ana floated in a light mist, 
 brightened by blue and silver slopes of incomparable sweetness. The momentary 
 absence of birds and insects, the motionless foliage which no wind agitated, gave to 
 this scene, still sleeping in the vapours of the morning, a character of youthful beauty, 
 of veiled splendour, and of calm serenity. 
 
 A footpath cut in the bank, and which I discovered with much difficulty under the 
 bushes which obstructed it, led to the edge of the river. Its glassy green waters glided 
 over an inclined plane with giddy rapidity, breaking in a foamy crest over the black 
 heads of two or three rocks which obstructed its course. How often, seated on a stone 
 or the trunk of a fallen tree, I had floated down its current some bright-coloured flower, 
 which it had seized with rage, and hurried along to unknown shores ! Now that the 
 time had come when I must trust myself to its mercies, the impetuosity of its course, 
 
412 PERU. 
 
 and the steepness of its descent, which once interested me, caused, I must confess, 
 a certain amount of apprehension. With a silent entreaty that it would be merciful 
 to me, I continued my walk. 
 
 On recognizing one by one the fresh and charming details which I had formerly 
 admired — trees blossoming in lovely flowers, shrubs shooting out in slender spindles, 
 and the smaller trees and bushes massed in clumps — I realized at a glance the changes 
 caused by five years' sun and rain. The trunks of the first had increased enormously 
 in size; the second had attained a remarkable height; the last, not content with growing 
 larger, had mingled one with another, and formed vast heads of impenetrable foliage. 
 Involuntarily I compared my own experience with the growth of this luxuriant vegeta- 
 tion, and asked myself what amount of happiness, what accomplished purposes, what 
 realization of the desires of my heart or the dreams of my spirit, had these five years 
 availed ? I found no answer to my question, and was forced to conclude that the very 
 trees and shrubs had been happier and more favoured than myself. 
 
 I strayed along the shore of the river until the sun, now high in the heavens, 
 began to incommode me, Avhen I thought of returning. Nevertheless, before quitting 
 the verdant shore which bounded at this spot the Huilcamayo Santa Ana, I made 
 up a charming nosegay, the arrangement of which would have delighted that artistic 
 bouquetiere, the late Madame Prevost. In the centre I placed, with the large flower 
 of a Carolinea princeps, white and straw coloured, an Amaryllis regime, dull carmine, 
 striped with white and green. I surrounded these two noble flowers with violet vhexias 
 and melastomes of a lilac mauve colour. Between these I slipped some stalks of ingas 
 with silky tufts, some ipomceas of a brilliant purple, and some Userons (multiflora) of 
 bright yellow: to these I added the paniculated blossoms of a Bignonia, jasminoides 
 of a flesh colour; a few orchids, streaked Avith green and reddish brown, and some tufts 
 of capillaires, like fine gauze ribbons. To preserve the freshness of my bouquet, 
 I enveloped it with leaves of Canacorus, and heliconias wet with dew, and when I had 
 studied it under all its aspects, I put it in the shade between the three forks of a tree. 
 " What a loss," I said to myself as I left with regret this bunch of exquisite flowers, 
 "not to be able to present it to some lionne of the great Parisian Sahara, that she might 
 have the vain pleasure of saying to some intimate friend, ' My dear, this simple bouquet 
 is worth 2000 francs!'" 
 
 To set my face eastward, and return to the homestead of the hacienda without 
 going over the same road, it was sufficient to turn my back on the river, and force a 
 passage through the underwood. As I sought with my eye for a place unembarrassed 
 by mimosse, acacias, and cacti — those savage plants, always ready to tear and to bite — I 
 perceived the entrance of a ravine, so hidden by the dense vegetation that it looked like 
 the lair of some wild animal. I entered it resolutely, and when my eyes had become 
 gradually accustomed to the greenish half-light, I detected here and there the most 
 charming details. At first a thread of crystalline and icy water, of which I took some 
 draughts; then the rocks splendidly caparisoned with that velvet which the vulgar 
 disparage under the name of mouldiness. In the bottom of the ravine, always humid, 
 there grew lovely ferns, adiantums, lycopodiums, hepaticas, and scolopendria, ribboned 
 
ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 413 
 
 with exquisite grace, and of that sombre and glossy green which is characteristic 
 of vegetations on which the sun has never glanced. This beautiful ravine, or woodland 
 path — I know not what to call it — was an ascending one. As it rose it continually 
 grew wider, and changed the character and aspect of its vegetation. Arums, reeds, 
 and strelitzias replaced the mosses and the capilliares, great flowering canes succeeded 
 to the low ferns, and the narrow path at length ended in an upland glade of ravishing 
 beauty, which the spreading leaves of the Musacece, by interlacing their fronds, covered 
 with a waving canopy. 
 
 From this miniature of a virgin forest I passed suddenly into the cacahual of the 
 estate, a vast plantation, the condition of which, as I have already observed, left nothing 
 to be desired. The cacao-trees, arranged in quiucunxes, 1 were apparently of twenty 
 years' growth, and appeared to have attained their full size. Their trunks, diapered 
 with reddish flowers, sustained at the same time heavy cocoons or pods of a beautiful 
 orange yellow colour, which, by contrast with the dark leafage, appeared like gold. 
 I was calculating the presumable product of the cacao harvest, when my name, many 
 times repeated, caught my ear. I recognized the voice of my compatriot, and ran in 
 the direction from which the call came. On turning out of an alley I saw my friend 
 using his two hands as a speaking-trumpet, awaking the echoes of the neighbourhood 
 with my name. I hastened my steps, and rejoined him. 
 
 ."Your baggage has arrived," he said; "the arriero whom you have charged with 
 their transport has given me this letter addressed to you, which he begged me to 
 forward with the least possible delay. Without further explanation, the man instantly 
 left for Cocabambillas, charged with a message which the prefect of Cuzco has addressed 
 to our tonsured merchants. What has the prefect of the department to do with these 
 monks \ " 
 
 While my compatriot was speaking I had unsealed the letter and run my eye over 
 it, " Behold the answer to your question," I said, presenting him the letter, which was 
 written by a mutual friend, a clever, experienced fellow, with a tongue that wounded 
 like a sword. This missive, penned in Spanish, is before me now, and I translate from 
 it the following lines: — 
 
 "A French diplomatist, the Prince or Duke de la Blanche-Epine — I am not certain 
 of his designation — arrived yesterday from Cuzco, accompanied by his private secretary, 
 a geographer, and two servants. He comes from Lima, where our president, out of 
 regard for the rank of the personage, and the mission with which he is charged by the 
 king his master, has cordially welcomed him. This illustrious Frenchman is on his way 
 to Brazil, and as he intends to embark on the river of Santa Ana to execute some 
 hydrographic labours, the president of the republic, with the view of serving Peru at 
 the same time, has added to the company the captain of a frigate, that they may work 
 out the said desigus together. Twenty soldiers form the escort of the two chiefs of the 
 Franco-Peruvian expedition, to whom the civil and military authorities, the cures of 
 villages, and the apostolic principals of missions, are expected to give all possible aid 
 and protection. 
 
 1 An arrangement iu fives, like the five spots on a playing-card. — Tn. 
 
414 PERU. 
 
 " His most serene highness has arranged to leave Cuzeo the day after to-morrow. 
 He Avill probably arrive in the valley of Santa Ana two days after my letter. It is open 
 to yon to wait at home, if yon feel any desire to kiss his serene highness' hand, or to 
 decamp with all possible speed, if you have no wish to make his acquaintance. I might 
 add a postscript to my missive, but prefer to send a box of preserved sardines, as a 
 provision against the state of starvation to which you will presently be reduced. 
 
 "Good luck, and come soon to relate your Odyssey!" 
 
 " Pardieu ! nothing could be more fortunate," said my compatriot; "you will now 
 be able to travel in good company." 
 
 " On the contrary, nothing could be more unfortunate, because it is my particular 
 wish to travel alone." 
 
 "In that case, lead the advance; you will arrive at Brazil before his highness." 
 
 "You forget that I cannot obtain a canoe." 
 
 " That is true," said my host, striking his forehead, " but the fete of Carmen is 
 near." 
 
 "Yes," said I, "there is only five days to wait, and the people announced in that 
 letter will be here the day after to-morrow." 
 
 We returned to the hacienda. After having dined in haste, my companion went 
 to the village of Echarati, leaving me to verify my luggage, which the arriero had piled 
 up in a corner of the shed. When I had satisfied myself that the packages were all 
 right, I wrote to my friend at Cuzco to thank him for his letter of advice and his box 
 of sardines. I told him of Fra Astuto, and the difficulties which that worthy Franciscan 
 had raised. Having begun the relation of mj r troubles, I did not end it until I had 
 poured into the bosom of friendship all the bile that I had secreted the last twenty-four 
 hours. As this first letter consoled me a little, I fancied that if I wrote a second 
 I should be entirely healed, and I set myself incontinently to the task. The composi- 
 tion of this second epistle, addressed to the prefect of Cuzco, cost me an hour and 
 a half's labour. To be truthful, I must confess that it contained some rather explicit 
 details concerning the mission of Cocabambillas and the commercial jumble of its 
 monks. 
 
 As 1 finished my correspondence, the muleteer returned from Cocabambillas. I 
 questioned him as to what had passed at Cuzco, but the man had learned nothing 
 and could tell me nothing; all that I conld extract from him was that at the instant 
 of his departure the chief of the police had charged him with two messages — one for 
 the governor of Echarati, the other for the missionaries of Cocabambillas, and had 
 cautioned him against loitering by the way. He had delivered each of these messages 
 at its address, but had received neither gratuity nor thanks, and was returning to Cuzco 
 ignorant of their purport. I settled his account, and gave him back, in good condition, 
 the two saddle-mules which I had hired of him. Then giving him my two letters to 
 deliver, I gratified him with a present of a few reals, and we parted, mutually well 
 satisfied with each other. 
 
 My host, on his return, brought great news. The governor of Echarati had 
 received from the prefect of Cuzco instructions to entertain a French grandee who 
 
ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 415 
 
 was travelling with a captain of the Peruvian navy, and to take care that their friends, 
 the gentlemen of their suite, and the soldiers of their escort, wanted for nothing. The 
 unhappy functionary had called together his coadjutors to communicate this message, 
 and implore their sympathy and aid; but they all deserted him, alleging as an excuse 
 some particidar trouble of their own. At this moment he was seated at his door, 
 his head leaning on his hands, uncertain which of the saints to invoke for assistance. 
 My host laughed so heartily as he communicated these details, that I, scarcely knowing 
 Avhy, laughed with him. As we thus made merry together, I asked him what he 
 thought of the manner in which Fra Astuto had received the news, and what the 
 priest was thinking of at this moment, while his neighbour the governor of Echarati 
 was lamenting the hardness of his lot, and the exigency of the prefect of Cuzco. My 
 host reflected a little. 
 
 " Fra Astuto is as cunning as an old fox," said he. " He will yield, or appear 
 to yield, to circumstances. But let our highness beware! I fear for him a terrible 
 blow." 
 
 Tavo days passed away, which I employed in arranging the contents of my packages, 
 classifying and distributing them in smaller parcels, more easy to stow away in a canoe, 
 and more convenient to open in case of need. My host obligingly assisted me in this 
 porter's work. We had already began to wonder that not even a whisper had reached 
 us from the expedition, when, in the afternoon of the third day, and during the 
 momentary absence of my host, a young man suddenly made his appearance, in a gray 
 suit and straw -hat, with a gun slung over his shoulder like a sportsman. He 
 approached me, and civilly raising his hat — 
 
 "Monsieur," said he, in Spanish, so bad that it made me smile, but with a Parisian 
 accent so pure that it went to my heart, "they told us at the village of Echarati 
 that the proprietor of this hacienda was a Frenchman, and I have been anxious to 
 assure myself of the fact, Could you tell me whether he is at home?" 
 
 "He is just now absent," I replied in French, "but he will very soon return. . ." 
 
 The young man did not give me time to finish the sentence, or to offer him a 
 seat. Carried away by a feeling that he could not master, he took my hand, pressed 
 it in his own, and said to me impetuously, "Ah, you are a Frenchman!" 
 
 This gesture, this exclamation — so spontaneous, so true, so natural — were like an 
 opening through which I saw into the young stranger's heart. His, I thought, was one 
 of those simple, unsophisticated natures which one understands at a glance. A quarter 
 of an hour's conversation sufficed to make me acquainted with his name and age, the 
 countries he had visited, and the friendships he had left behind him. To these con- 
 fidences, already sufficient, he was probably about to add the particulars of his roving 
 amours and foolish enterprises, if the arrival of my host had not interrupted him. 
 After the first civilities, the young man congratulated him on being the owner of so 
 fine a property as that of Bellavista, praising, above all, the number and arrangement 
 of the buildings. I was thinking what these flatteries might mean, when the Parisian 
 added in a careless tone, "We are very badly lodged at Echarati: Ave there want for 
 everything, but happily we leave very soon." These few words were the pith of all he 
 
416 PERU. 
 
 said, and I marvelled that our traveller united at so tender an age — he counted twenty- 
 three springs — so much amiability and gaiety with so much reflection. But diplomacy, 
 thought I, is a hothouse which develops at an early age a man's faculties, and this 
 youthful politician is a fine fruit ripe before its time. The young man went as he 
 came, but promised to return and see us on the morrow. 
 
 Being alone with my host, I ventured, in the name of France and of the influence 
 she exercises over all well-disposed hearts, to suggest that he should offer to his 
 highness and the five persons of his suite board and lodging during the remainder 
 of their stay at Echarati. At first this idea appeared to him extravagant, and he 
 refused to entertain it, under the pretext that never having lodged princes under his 
 roof, he was quite ignorant of the ceremonial necessary to observe towards them. 
 When, however, I assured him that princes, of whom he made such bugbears, were 
 men like himself, eating and drinking at stated times, and that this one in particular 
 would be obliged to conform to our manner of life, under penalty of returning to 
 Echarati, he allowed himself to be persuaded. Talking the matter over, we agreed 
 that I should give my room to his highness; that the secretary and the geographer 
 should establish themselves in the place where they dried the cacao, and that the 
 two slaves might sleep with the fowls. As for the captain and the soldiers of his 
 escort, I saw no reason why they should not continue at Echarati. All this being 
 settled to my complete satisfaction, I begged my host to go at once, notwithstanding 
 the inconvenience of the hour, to make his offers of service. He only took sufficient 
 time to change his shirt and comb his hair, when he set out, ruminating on the phrases 
 in which he thought of addressing his highness. Half an hour later he returned, 
 enchanted with the reception accorded him by the prince, whom he found eating 
 boiled eggs like any ordinary mortal. His offer of board and lodging had been eagerly 
 accepted. Whilst relating the incidents of the interview, he showed me his hand, 
 which his highness, said he, had taken and pressed several times. He was so enthu- 
 siastic about this that I advised him to cut the hand off at the wrist, and preserve it 
 in spirits of wine as a souvenir of so precious an incident. He, however, preferred to 
 keep it as heretofore at the end of his arm. 
 
 The next morning at eleven the prince came to the hacienda. His geographer, as 
 I soon knew him to be, and his private secretary, in whom I recognized our visitor of 
 the day before, walked on his right and left, like the deacon and sub-deacon attendant 
 on a priest. His two slaves — the one a youth, the other a child — followed at a 
 distance. On seeing this noble personage, my host hastened to meet him, and con- 
 ducted him, with many salaams, under the shed which, as I have before said, served 
 both for hall and drawing-room. At this moment I finished painting one of those 
 convolvuli (Convolvulus grandifloms,) of which the white corolla, streaked with green, 
 is six inches in diameter, and I was examining with a magnifying-glass the insertion 
 of its stamens. Out of respect for my visitors I threw the flower under the table, 
 closed my album, and put the magnifying-glass in my pocket. 
 
 "We disturb you perhaps, monsieur?" said his highness graciously. 
 
 "No," I answered, "I had already finished." 
 
ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 417 
 
 " In that case permit me to see the flower that you have painted." 
 
 I handed the prince my album, which he opened at the wet page. 
 
 "Ah! it is an aristolochia," he said. 
 
 If I did not answer his highness, Avho was egrcgiously deceived in taking a con- 
 volvulus for an aristolochia, it Avas because I thought the answer would hardly have 
 been becoming in itself, and because a prince, obliged by his rank to know men, is 
 not necessarily obliged to know flowers. 
 
 While he turned over the leaves of my book, I examined him attentively. He 
 was a man of about forty years of age, of average height, spare in figure and face, 
 and of a pale complexion; his beard and hair black. His nose, round and snubbed, 
 gave to his physiognomy a common, not to say vulgar expression, which, hoAvever, 
 Avas relieved, though not embellished, by a disdainful smile stereotyped on his lips. 
 "This is no 'Prince Charming,'" I said to myself aside; "but as beauty is a gift of 
 Heaven, and not the manifestation of a personal will, it Avould be ridiculous, unjust, 
 and indeed quite out of place, to reproach his highness with his slight resemblance 
 to the Antiuous or the Meleager." 
 
 The prince, returning my book, interrupted the artistic and psychological study I 
 had made of his person. 
 
 While Ave gossipped de omni re scibili et quibusdam aliis, he apprised me of Avhat 
 I Avas far from suspecting — that he had learned at Cuzco the motive of my journey, 
 and my route through Peru and Brazil being almost coincident Avith his oavii itinerary, 
 he expressed the pleasure it would be to him if Ave could travel together. To this 
 amiable proposition he added so many compliments, so eulogized my double talent as 
 botanist and artist, Avhich he no more kneAV that I possessed than I did myself, and, 
 in a word, burned so much incense of an inferior quality under my nose, that it quite 
 turned my stomach. The geographer and secretary had listened to this dithyrambus 
 in my honour Avith a seriousness that I thought of bad augury. I should have better 
 liked to see a slightly contemptuous smile on their lips, evincing that, like myself, 
 they accepted this hyperbolical language with some slight reserve. It pained me to 
 think that these young men concealed, under their apparent gravity, one of those 
 tortuously involved thoughts common to diplomatists, Avhich Blaise Pascal has located 
 in the occipital part of the cranial concavity, calling it pensee de derriere la tete. 
 
 The arrival of his highness' baggage caused the conversation, which I had begun 
 to find rather wearisome, to end. While the prince busied himself in my little room, 
 and superintended Avith solicitude the transport of some packages, containing, he told 
 me, valuable collections from the three kingdoms of nature, I proposed to the geogra- 
 pher and the secretary to Avalk a little in the cacahual (plantation), to Avhich they 
 eagerly assented. On one of them remarking that it A\ r as very hot, and hinting Iioav 
 inconvenient it Avas to be thirsty, I produced a bottle of orange-Avine. We had Avalked 
 some distance Avhen I discovered that I had forgotten two important things — a cork- 
 screAV and a glass. As I reproached myself for this neglect, my companions suggested 
 that the neck of the bottle might be broken Avith a stone, and then used as a drinking 
 glass. The freedom of their manners, or rather their Avant of manners, put me perfectly 
 
 VOL. I. 53 
 
418 PERU. 
 
 at ease. I left them at liberty to break the bottle and drink the wine, which they did 
 in a twinkling. Animated by its fumes, they cast aside their assumed gravity, and 
 exhibited themselves in their true character. The secretary hummed the Bourbonnaise, 
 which he accompanied with comical grimaces; whilst the geographer executed a 
 choregraphic dance of his composition, which he said had obtained for him two hours' 
 fiddling at the last opera ball. Over-excited by the orange-wine, our young diploma- 
 tists vied with each other in buffoonery and repartee. I thought the opportunity 
 favourable to hazard some questions about his highness the Prince de la Blanche- 
 Epine, and inquired discreetly as to the object of his travels. I had scarcely repeated 
 the titles of this personage when the geographer burst into a roar of laughter. 
 
 "Prince! Highness!" he exclaimed; "where in the world did you get that idea? 
 Our Blanche-Epine is nothing but a paltry count!" 
 "A simple count," said the secretary. 
 
 And they made so merry with their master's pretensions that I found it impossible 
 to keep my gravity, and laughed as heartily as my future travelling companions. At 
 the same time I could not help observing, as if reflectively, that it was not very 
 charitable to amuse oneself at the expense of an absent friend, and more especially 
 when the absentee was the chief of the expedition. 
 
 "Short reckonings make long friends," said the geographer sententiously. 
 
 "One would imagine that you had some reason to complain of him," said I. 
 
 "Hum!" said the secretary; "we have not much to console ourselves with. For 
 two years that we have been travelling he has fed us with bread and cheese, under the 
 pretext that meat is indigestible and unfavourable to the operations of the mind. 
 Moreover, as brandy is antipathetic to him, he allows us nothing but spring water, an 
 insipid drink, by no means good for our stomachs. As a rule, we seldom dine, except 
 when in large towns, or when some charitable person invites us. Beyond this, when 
 travelling, we live more frugally than Carthusian friars. Moreover, since leaving Paris, 
 I have lost fifty good livres of my own. If I say nothing of the ill-humour which we 
 have sometimes to bear — of the whims, the rebuffs, that we have to endure — it is because 
 such things appear so trivial when related. I can assure you, sir, our way of life is 
 not altogether strewn with roses." 
 
 "Ma lafama!" I replied. 
 
 "You should say malafama," rejoined the geographer. 
 
 The secretary, who did not understand our meaning, looked from one to the other 
 as if seeking an explanation. 
 
 "I would speak," said I, "of the glory which awaits you beyond the seas: already 
 fame has put her trumpet to her lips to spread the report of your achievements. The 
 French Institute has its eyes on you, and the savants already prepare themselves to 
 weave garlands for your brows. On returning home, depend upon it, you will cause 
 the market-price of the Lauras nobilis to rise." 
 
 "Is not this 'noble laurel' that which cooks use to give a flavour to their sauces?" 
 inquired the geographer. 
 
 "It is the same," said I. "Botanists call it indifferently the nobilis and the salivas. 
 
ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 419 
 
 to teach the ignorant, or recall to the better informed who might have forgotten the 
 fact, that, in this world, glory and reputation are prepared and elaborated like ragouts 
 in the kitchen." 
 
 The conversation was kept up in this merry humour during the whole time we 
 remained in the plantation, where the thermometer marked, in the shade, 79° Fahr. 
 My companions, brightened up by the orange-wine they had already drank, and 
 delighted by the promise of more, became more and more charmingly communicative. 
 I soon knew as much as themselves of their past history, and of the object of their 
 mission in America, which was not diplomatic, as they had pretended, but only 
 scientific. The title of secretary given by M. de la Blanche-Epine to one of our 
 Parisians, was only like a label on a bottle which bears no relation to the liquor 
 contained in it, or like make-believe panels in wainscotting. The. young secretary was 
 assistant naturalist, and his real duties consisted in stuffing with tow, previously 
 rubbed in arsenic, the skins of such quadrupeds and birds as chance and his gun had 
 enabled him to procure. In giving a pompous name to a vulgar thing, the Count de la 
 Blanche-Epine had but risen to the level of his times, as with us a hairdresser is called 
 a coiffeur, and a comedian or singer an artist. Thus, having gratified 'himself by 
 substituting for his title of official traveller that of diplomatist, he had naturally made 
 a private secretary of his bird-stuffer. The thing itself Avas not absolutely reprehensible, 
 and proved, at the most, a little vanity in the man. But I have already observed that 
 vanity is the pet sin of every traveller in distant lands. I will even venture to say, that 
 if we take anyone of them as a prototype of the order, and suppose his entire 
 composition to be represented by the figure 10, it will be found, on analyzing him, that 
 he consists of one part of scientific interest against nine parts of conceit. 
 
 Having returned to the hacienda, great was my astonishment to behold, under 
 the shed, our monks from Cocabambillas in conference with the chief of the French 
 mission. The animated air of Fra Astuto showed how greatly he was interested in the 
 conversation. Approaching to salute Fra Bobo, he received me as an old acquaint- 
 ance. The worthy man appeared to have aged very much during the two years that 
 had passed since I saw him. His companion smiled on recognizing me, but with a 
 singular smile which only raised one corner of his mouth. The conversation which our 
 arrival had interrupted was recommenced. It turned on the official message which the 
 missionaries had received. Father Astuto was the only speaker. Fra Bobo contented 
 himself with a nod or gesture of approval, as the case might demand. After having 
 sufficiently protested his respect for the chief of the state, and his entire submission to 
 orders, the speaker added that he placed himself wholly at the service of the Franco- 
 Peruvian savants, and that he would do his utmost to facilitate their journey; although, 
 in his opinion, the navigation alone of the river was beset with danger. As, however, 
 the monk observed no sign of fear among his auditoi's, he passed abruptly from the 
 dangers of the river which we should have to descend, to the savages established on its 
 banks, and spoke long and pathetically of their proverbial cruelty, and their very 
 pronounced taste for steaks of human flesh. By the expression of raillery which he 
 detected on every countenance, he understood that he had to deal with the class of 
 
420 PERU. 
 
 men spoken of in Scripture, who hare ears, but hear not; and that it would be 
 ridiculous in him to persist any longer. He therefore apprised us, that in order to 
 produce a moral effect on the aborigines, and at the same time to draw the blessing of 
 Heaven down upon our heads, Father Bobo, notwithstanding his great age, had 
 consented to join us in the character of chaplain. At this unexpected announcement 
 every one cried out, and Father Bobo himself appeared to be on the point of uttering 
 an exclamation, when the imperious glance of his companion called him to order. 
 The old monk, evidently disconcerted, hung down his head and twirled his thumbs. 
 In fine, it was agreed that we should leave Echarati the next morning; that in passing 
 Cocabambillas we should pick up the two missionaries ; and that we should make our 
 way together to the shore of the Chahuaris, where we intended to embark. After the 
 usual distribution of handshakings, and with a half smile addressed to the balcony, 
 Father Astuto and Father Bobo mounted their mules and returned to the mission. 
 
 Night having arrived, and our hosts being seated round a table lighted with two 
 tallow-candles, talking over their affairs, and preparing — each on his own account — ■ 
 the materials destined to form the edifice of their future celebrity — the assistant 
 naturalist in stuffing a parrot, the geographer in measuring degrees on a map, the 
 Count de la Blanche-Epine paring his nails with a penknife — I took the arm of my host 
 and drew him away in the direction of the village. The visit of the monks of Coca- 
 bambillas, and the sudden conclusion of the business which brought them to the 
 hacienda, had stirred my curiosity; and having assisted only at the end of the conference, 
 I wished to learn something of the commencement. Before, however, entering upou 
 this part of the conversation, I thought it necessary to tell my host what I had learned 
 from the Parisians concerning their patron; and how he, having lost the rank of prince, 
 was reduced to the proportions of a count — doubtless an unimportant detail, but one 
 which deprived the handshaking of the said personage of some part of its honorary 
 value. I do not know whether my companion blushed at the allusion, because the 
 night was too dark to permit me to judge; but he answered without stammering — 
 
 "The facts are instructive and the story 1 amusing;" an apologue in a dozen syllables, 
 which the geographer would have found full of meaning. 
 
 In return for my confidence I learned from my host that Father Astuto, after 
 receiving the message from the prefect of Cuzco, had hastened to inform his companion 
 at Putucusi, by express, of what had happened, and to request him to return without 
 delay to Cocabambillas. The old man had abandoned his cinchona expedition and had 
 rejoined his ally. A secret conference had taken place between the two missionaries, 
 the subject of which was easy to divine. Under the pressure of circumstances Father 
 Astuto had made up his mind to allow his domains to be explored, but in order that 
 the result of the exploration, supposing anything resulted from it, might be immediately 
 profitable to him, he had stipulated that Father Bobo should join the explorers and 
 keep watch on their proceedings. It was an eye that he placed in the expedition to 
 spy out what he could not see for himself. As to the rowers, guides, and interpreters, 
 which such a voyage rendered necessary, Father Astuto probably selected them from 
 
 1 Le conte — a pun on his " highness' " title. 
 
ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 
 
 421 
 
 among the cholos in his own pay, and as these men, on whom he could depend, received 
 precise instructions at the moment of departure, the monk was pretty certain that all 
 would happen for the best in the best of worlds. I asked my host how he had learned 
 these facts. 
 
 "By listening to what they told me, and guessing what they wished to hide from 
 me," he replied. 
 
 This gossip had brought us to the further end of the alley of agaves which leads 
 to the village of Echarati. A great light gleaming through the trees caused us to think 
 
 ^r^^ 
 
 THE COUNT DE LA Ti L ANCn E- EPINE AND HIS COMPANIONS ENGAGED IN THEIR SCIENTIFIC LABOURS. 
 
 there was a fire, and we hastened our steps. On reaching the entrance to the village 
 we perceived that this appearance was caused by a bivouac fire, around which the 
 soldiers of the escort were gathered. Half from curiosity, half from a feeling of interest 
 in my future travelling companions, I proposed to my host that we should go together 
 to the governor's house, where we should find the captain of the frigate, one of the 
 chiefs of the expedition. As the thing was to him almost a matter of indifference he 
 followed me without replying. On entering the governor's house we found two men 
 lying on a camp-bed; a smoky lamp was placed near the bolster. At the noise of our 
 approach they turned their heads, murmured some words which I could not understand, 
 and sat up. Apologizing for having interrupted their sleep, I asked which of them was 
 the captain of the frigate and commander of the escort. The oldest, the longest, and 
 the leanest of the two, as I judged when he rose, said that he was the man I asked for, 
 and invited us with a gesture to seat ourselves by his side. We did so, and on viewing 
 the captain more closely I saw that he was one-eyed, flat-nosed, and pitted with the 
 smallpox. I spoke to him of the voyage which we were on the eve of undertaking in 
 common, and of the pleasure I had in making his acquaintance. He appeared to be 
 gratified by the news, and returned my compliments in the politest terms. From one 
 
422 PERU. 
 
 thing to another we passed on to speaking of Lima, of its mild climate, of the humour 
 of its men, and the graces of its women. By a singular chance he found that certain 
 ladies of my acquaintance were among his own intimate friends. His pleasure was 
 great on learning that we had admired the same faces, analyzed the same perfections, 
 and offered incense to the same idols. Nothing draws two men together more than such 
 devotions made at the same altar, especially when time and distance have cooled their 
 first fervour. This discovery was a shibboleth which made us aware that we were both 
 initiates in the same mysteries, and it at once established friendly relations between us. 
 The captain assured me that from this hour his sympathies and his confidence were 
 for ever mine. As a first proof thereof he avowed that the haughty manners of my 
 countryman, the Count de la Blanche-Epine, had been very offensive to him; that a 
 score of times during the journeying from Lima to Cuzco he had been on the point of 
 quarrelling with him, and that only the fear of causing trouble between France and 
 Peru had prevented an outbreak. A deplorable illusion, complacently fostered by the 
 chief of the French expedition, was the cause of all the evil. This personage seeing in 
 the Peruvian commission which the president of the republic had appointed to share 
 in his labours only an escort of honour, had treated it with supreme disdain. In the 
 towns and villages of the Sierra through which he had passed he had been heard to 
 speak of the "gentlemen of his suite" who obstinately lagged behind, when, from respect 
 for his person and his rank, they should not have left him for an instant. 
 
 If the allegations of the captain of the frigate were truthful — and I know not how 
 it was, but the vrai in this case appeared to me singularly vraisemblable — the Peruvian 
 amour propre, natural offspring of Spanish pride, must have bled in him through more 
 than one wound. I tried, nevertheless, to extenuate the matter by objecting to the 
 captain that people might have spread false reports, or evilly interpreted the simplest 
 words; that it was childish on his part to let the thing trouble him; that on the eve 
 of commencing in common a long and perilous enterprise, it was important, even 
 admitting there was some truth in the alleged conversation, to forgive the offence 
 generously and unreservedly; that in politics, in the prosecution of a journey, and 
 in most other things, union is strength; that the prospect — far from a reassuring one — 
 of evils to be endured in common, of dangers to be braved together, ought to draw 
 together two men so learned, so made to understand, and reciprocally esteem, each 
 other, &c. &c. &c. I soon saw, however, that I might as well have talked to the winds. 
 The Avound was deep, and I had in vain heaped maxims upon opinions, and axioms upon 
 aphorisms. Not one wrinkle was smoothed in the captain's forehead. Seeing this, 
 I took leave of him, merely adding that we should start the next morning, according 
 to the arrangement made between the Count de la Blanche-Epine and the missionaries 
 of Cocabambillas. I invited him to rejoin us at the hacienda, and my compatriot 
 having added to my proposition the offer of a bottle of orange-wine to drink success to 
 the enterprise, we left the captain of the frigate to finish his sleep by the side of the 
 lieutenant. 
 
 " Discord is in the camp of Agramante," said my companion when we were out 
 of the village. 
 
ECHARAT1 TO CHULITUQU1. 423 
 
 " Yes," I replied, " and I much fear that when we are once en route there is little 
 chance of its fury being extinguished in the hearts of the combatants. Can't you 
 imagine the future wranglings, and perhaps blows, between the two expeditions? 
 What an examine for the savages ! " 
 
 "Let us hope it will not be so bad as that." 
 
 "It matters not; like the abbe with the roasted chestnuts in the Contes (VEspagne, 
 I would cheerfully say, with a shake of my head, 'Sad! sad! sad!' and at the first 
 opportunity on the road take my leave of the united expedition. If union brings 
 strength, isolation brings tranquillity. I may sulk sometimes with myself, but I have 
 no fear of a serious quarrel." 
 
 The next day was entirely occupied with preparations for departure. Trunks, boxes, 
 clothes, shoes, were scattered about in picturesque disorder, giving to the hacienda the 
 aspect of a commercial bazaar and an old-clothes shop. We were all as busy, coming 
 and going, as ants, anxious to see that our property was properly distributed and 
 taken care of in the packing. The assistant naturalist devoted his attention to the 
 mummies of lizards, serpents, and birds, the fruit of his labours. The geographer 
 slipped into their respective paper covers his calculations of altitude and longitude, 
 and the geological sections he had made by the way. The Count de la Blanche-Epine, 
 the soul and spirit of the expedition, shone like the sun over all, stimulated the zeal 
 of his subordinates, rebuked the idleness of his slaves, and gave a last touch with his 
 penknife to his nails. At five o'clock in the evening portmanteaus, boxes, and packages, 
 corded, nailed up, and addressed, were symmetrically arranged to await the arrival of 
 the mules charged with their transport. After dinner we all went to rest, a little done 
 up with the labours of the day, leaving our luggage to the care of the watch-dogs. 
 
 The sun rose in a cloudless sky. At ten o'clock the muleteers came to the hacienda, 
 and packed our baggage on the animals' backs. Just as they had completed this opera- 
 tion, the Peruvian escort, with its commandant at the head, its lieutenant on the flank, 
 and its cabo or corporal behind, entered the court at a quick step, and formed in line 
 before the shed where we were assembled. On meeting again, after two days' absence, 
 the chiefs of the respective expeditions measured each other with their eyes like two 
 rival cocks, but as yet without sticking up their feathers or their crests. A chilly silence 
 had succeeded to the exchange of the first civilities. To disperse the cloud which hung 
 over the assembly, unconsciously oppressed by the fluid disengaged by the nervous 
 plexus of the two antagonists, my friend caused some biscuits and a few bottles of 
 orange-wine to be served. We drank to the success of our journey, to the glory of 
 France, and the prosperity of Peru, while the soldiers of the escort drank their cacao- 
 brandy to the health of Mars and Bellona. Exactly at mid-day we quitted the hacienda 
 of Bellavista, followed by the good wishes and prayers of its proprietor, to whom I pro- 
 mised to write an account of our journey. 
 
 On arriving at Cocabambillas we found the two monks equipped and ready to 
 follow us. To honour the two chiefs of the expedition, and the persons of their suite, 
 Fra Astuto caused some glasses of lemonade to be served, but none of us touched it ; 
 such a mixture of pure water with common moist sugar and lemon having a very 
 
424 
 
 PERU. 
 
 unpalatable look after the excellent wine Ave had so lately drank. To my great 
 astonishment, the silver spoons were allowed to remain on the table during the quarter 
 of an hour that we passed at the mission. Such negligence appeared to me the more 
 inexplicable on the part of Fra Astuto, considering there might have been among so 
 many strange visitors some one clever enough to spirit them away, even under his eyes, 
 and leave in their place a withered leaf. 1 Our band, augmented by the two missionaries 
 and a dozen merry varlets, who took charge of their beasts in a jocund manner that 
 showed they were accustomed to their work, began its march. 
 
 From Cocabambillas to the shore of the Chahuaris, where we intended to embark, 
 
 IHE FARMS OF CHOQUECHIMA AND SAHUATACO. 
 
 was a distance of about eighteen miles. The varied landscape, often verdant and 
 wooded, was inclosed within a double range of mountains with rounded tops, the abrupt 
 fall of which to the north-north-east seemed to announce to the traveller that he was 
 approaching the region where the Cordillera — that dorsal spine of the American 
 continent, to which its nudus serve as vertebrae, its punas as apophyses, and its valleys 
 as ribs — sinks into the earth, so to speak, and at length disappears entirely from view. 
 
 The continued slope of the ground cpiickened the steps of our mules, who trotted 
 gaily along, with little movements of the back which it was a pleasure to see. In two 
 hours we reached Choquechima, a small farm of no importance, which we passed by 
 without halting. A little further on we passed Sahuayaco, a property of the same 
 kind, and soon arrived at the hacienda of Chahuaris, which gives its name to the shore 
 where we had appointed our rendezvous. 
 
 This hacienda, devoted to the culture of coca, belongs to a colonel of engineers who 
 lives at Cuzco, and with whom I had once visited the sources of the Apurimac. It 
 would have been pleasant to renew my acquaintance with my old travelling companion, 
 
 ! Fairy money disappears, and in its place is found only withered leaves. — Tr. 
 
ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 
 
 425 
 
 whom circumstances, independent of his will, had transformed from his condition of 
 a quiet citizen to that of a savant, with no end of honours. 1 But the gate of his house 
 was closed, and I recalled to mind that in former times he had only visited the place 
 once a year. Before passing on I confided to the echoes of the neighbourhood all sorts 
 of good wishes for my friend, begging them faithfully to repeat the same on his first 
 visit. They repeated my words many times in order to impress them on their memory, 
 but I know not whether they afterwards accpiitted themselves of my mission. 
 
 The shore of the Chahuaris, where we arrived about five o'clock, is the frontier-line 
 which separates civilization from barbarism. In this character it possesses a sort of 
 
 FAHJI OF CHAHl ai;is. 
 
 barrack, or large hut thatched with stubble, with some sheds and other domestic 
 annexes. The entrance is a mere opening without a door, so that the place is free 
 to all comers, and serves as a neutral asylum where the savage and the civilized may 
 alike find shelter from sun and rain. Seven or eight cholos, of the same class as those 
 who had followed us from Cocabambillas, and who reminded me, I know not exactly 
 why, of those mentioned by the Arabian poet Chanfary — wolves with gaunt sides— were 
 seated on the shore round a fire fed by withered branches. They saluted us with their 
 exclamations, and came forward to congratulate the two missionaries on their arrival. 
 The landscape around this portion of the shore, in which the house and its 
 dependencies occupy the centre, was not a very inspiring one. Behind us, a succession 
 of wooded slopes carried the eye up to the region of the lomas, or lower mountains. 
 Here and there upon the sands were irregular spaces of short sward, with some starved 
 shrubs and a few tufts of a large and rough bladed grass. In front, barring from view 
 the north-west, was a basaltic mass, whose summit was clothed with vegetation. The 
 river, a strong and rapid stream, washed the base of this wall and disappeared from 
 
 1 Scenes et Passages dans ies Andes, 1st Series, 1861. 
 
 54 
 
426 
 
 PERU. 
 
 view on our right, in a torrent of eddies and whirlpools. A tangled mass of trees and 
 underwood, of which the dazzled eye could distinguish with difficulty the silhouettes 
 in the burning furnace of the setting sun, bounded the whole landscape on our left. 
 
 Our first care, after having dismounted, was to relieve the beasts of burden of their 
 loads, and deposit our baggage in a corner of the hut, in such a manner that we could 
 keep an eye on it. The curiosity with which the cholos of Cocabambillas examined 
 the packages, feeling them and trying to form an idea of their contents, suggested this 
 precaution. Nightfall surprised us in the midst of these divers cares; a repast 
 composed of smoked mutton and boiled yucca-roots Avas served up on the naked bosom 
 
 THE LEFT BANK OF THE RIVER CHAHUAKIS. 
 
 of our mother Cybele, the only table, the only seat, the only bed, the only pillow, which 
 we might henceforth expect to have. The day's journey, added to the porter's work 
 we had done, had sharpened our appetite, and Ave did all honour to this frugal repast, 
 the light for which was supplied by a tallow-candle stuck at the end of a stick. The 
 question of going to bed was then debated and unanimously decided in the affirmative. 
 Each prepared his resting-place as he could, chose his neighbour according to his 
 sympathies, and soon a snoring chorus, which dominated the counter-tenor of the tAvo 
 monks, rose in the silence of the night like a song of thanksgiving. 
 
 On awaking in the morning, I remarked, not without surprise, that the personnel 
 of our troop was augmented by half a dozen Amis Indians, Avho Avere established in 
 the neighbourhood, as I learned a moment afterwards. From the names, Pedro, Juan, 
 Jose, Maria, Pancha, and Anita, by which the cholos of Cocabambillas called them, no 
 less than from the aptitude of the strangers to use the Quichua idiom, as well as that 
 of their caste, I understood that I had before me a specimen of those degenerate 
 Indians Avho have been made by baptism children of God and of the church, but to 
 whom civilization has given nothing but its vices, while taking from them the qualities 
 
ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 427 
 
 of the natural man. These Indians were clothed in a loose sac of unbleached cotton, 
 with openings for the head and arms. They wore their hair like a horse's tail, and the 
 half- rubbed -off red and black on their faces indicated their use of arnotto and 
 genipahua. Their general appearance was that of brutal stupidity. 
 
 Their exact similarity of costume and fashion of wearing the hair, the chaplets 
 of seeds which they wore suspended from their necks or crossed saltier-wise, so com- 
 pletely confounded the two sexes, that it was only on hearing them speak one could 
 distinguish the sons of Adam from the daughters of Eve — since it has long been agreed 
 that all the world, white and yellow, red and black, are, like ourselves, traceable to one 
 and the same origin. 
 
 These wretched-looking savages, at once ugly and squalid, in spite of the silver 
 ornament which many of them wore suspended to the nose, were accompanied by little 
 clogs with sharp backbones and straight-pointed ears, who looked at lis with haggard 
 eyes, and seemed to snuff at us with much misgiving. On examining these melancholy 
 specimens of the canine race, I recalled to mind the alcro or mute dog of the Sierra 
 Nevada, a species which was widely distributed in the time of the Incas, but has been 
 lost, it is said, since the Conquest. The idea occurred to me that these little wretches 
 might be the variety whose disappearance is so much lamented by European zoologists. 
 To resolve a scientific problem, the settlement of which would have done me the greatest 
 honour, I saw no better means than to offer one of the dogs which came near me a bit 
 of biscuit. Enticed by this bait the animal drew near, wagging its tail. In a moment, 
 when his jaws were just closing upon the coveted morsel, I seized him by the ear and 
 gave it a twist in the name of science. He let the biscuit fall and fled howling, which 
 proved that the species was not mute, as I had supposed, and as a French traveller has 
 been in too much haste to declare. 
 
 While awaiting the breakfast which was in preparation, and which seemed to be 
 similar to the supper of the evening before, the chiefs of the Franco-Peruvian expedition, 
 their attaches, and the two monks began to deliberate on the question of our departure. 
 My part in this judicial conclave, which lasted twentj r -five minutes, and had a most 
 business -like termination, was the secondary one of assistant-judge or recorder. Fra 
 Astuto offered to lend three canoes, which, added to the two canoes of the Antis who 
 arrived in the morning, would form a flotilla of five vessels capable of containing a score 
 of persons. It remained to find some means of transporting the soldiers, the luggage, 
 and the provisions. 
 
 As it was useless to dream of procuring other canoes, one of the members of the 
 assembly proposed to cut down some trees, and form balsas or rafts with their trunks, 
 upon which the soldiers, surrounded with the luggage, would be well accommodated. 
 This ingenious idea was adopted with unanimity. By chance my eye fell upon the 
 individuals in question, and I perceived by the expression of their physiognomy that 
 the mode of transport which we had adopted without consulting them was far from 
 satisfactory. I said nothing, however, but leaving the members of the council to con- 
 gratulate anew the genius who had conceived the idea of these floating floors, I went 
 to peep at the boiling pot. The transparency of the soup, on which swam here and 
 
428 PERU. 
 
 there some blebs of grease, convinced me that it would be at least half an hour before 
 it was ready to be served. To pass away the time I opened my album, sharpened my 
 crayons, and sketched two or three of the Antis. As this work obliged me to look 
 now at my sketch-book, now at my savage models, some of them approached, came 
 round me, and began to whisper Avith each other. I could not doubt that they were 
 criticizing my work. To teach these sons of the desert that if criticism is easy, art is 
 difficult, and that, notwithstanding the difficulties it presents, I was prepared to 
 challenge their judgment, I immediately sketched the portrait of one of them at full 
 length, and presented it to the individual. He held it for a moment with the feet in 
 the air and the head downwards, a new and altogether savage fashion of looking at 
 things with a view to criticism. Then when he had sufficiently examined it and sub- 
 mitted it to his comrade, he returned it to me with a roar of laughter, his manner, new 
 and savage again, of expressing his admiration, as I was told by one of the cholos of the 
 mission who had witnessed the scene. 
 
 After a hasty breakfast, partaken in common, we began to think of preparing the 
 wood necessary for the construction of the rafts. Some of the cholos, furnished with 
 hatchets and choppers, went in search of those trees of porous wood which are generally 
 used in such constructions. About four o'clock they were seen returning, carrying 
 on their shoulders, or under their arms, apparently with no more effort than if they 
 were mere sticks, trunks of the toroh (Cecropia), some ten or twelve feet long and from 
 thirty to forty inches in circumference. These trunks, lighter than cork, and like it 
 impossible to submerge, were solidly fastened one to the other by means of lianas, 
 and finally drawn into the river, where a stout liana, serving as a cable, fastened them 
 to the shore. As it was nightfall when this was accomplished, Ave postponed the 
 loading of our craft until the next day. 
 
 That day was the last we passed at Chahuaris. From early morning each was 
 busy putting on his accoutrements for the journey, re-nailing his chests, re-marking 
 his packages, and otherwise preparing for the event. While they loaded the rafts I 
 went for a farewell ramble in the neighbouring woods, in the hope of making some 
 botanical discoveries in their shady recesses. My first finds were happy enough. 
 I got an Epiphyllum truncatum of gigantic size; a Capparis, covered with flowers; five 
 or six varieties of CEnotlierew, some lemon-scented verbenas (V. rnacrqphylla), and a 
 Hippoeastrum, with delicate pink flowers, of which I made a drawing on account of 
 its rarity, regretting it was not in my power to bring away the bulb as a contribution 
 to science. Led on by these discoveries, and hoping to increase the number, I pushed 
 further and further into the woods, searching their shadowy depths with my eye as I 
 proceeded. Suddenly an object of mixed white and black, and of a very unusual form, 
 was discernible through the gloom. I quickened my step, expecting to lay my hand 
 upon some strange specimen of the flora of Chahuaris; but instead of the flower which 
 I expected to gather, I found myself in possession of a soldier's cartridge-box filled 
 for service. As I uttered an exclamation at an incident at least so curious, I dis- 
 covered a second article of the same kind hooked to the branches of a tree; ten steps 
 further I found a third ; a fourth ; in a word, I collected seven cartridge-boxes in a 
 
ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 
 
 -4-J.0 
 
 space of some thirty paces diameter. Abandoning my botanical researches, I gathered 
 together by their leathern straps these articles of equipment, and returned to the 
 shore where our party was assembled. There I soon found the explanation of a fact 
 which had at first seemed inexplicable. Nine soldiers out of the twenty who had formed 
 
 
 Sif//-''./-" 
 
 BIXA ORELLANA (ARSOTTO). 
 
 our escort had deserted during the night, carrying off their muskets and sabres to 
 sell, but abandoning their cartridge-boxes as impediments to their progress. This 
 incident, at which every one seemed to take alarm, was in reality neither strange nor 
 surprising, as Peruvian soldiers invariably abscond rather than be brought face 
 to face with the savages. In the country of Manco Capac men who are clothed 
 tremble with fear, the}' know not why, before their brother man who is naked. Hence 
 the instinctive terror of the soldiers on finding themselves upon the territory of the 
 
430 PERU. 
 
 infidels, and their anxiety to beat a retreat. After having talked over this affair for 
 some time, the subject was dismissed. Nevertheless, I observed that the chief of the 
 French expedition, by indulging aloud in certain ethnological reflections upon the deser- 
 tion of these men, and mingling with these reflections an occasional burst of ironical 
 laughter, managed to deal a blow at the national amour pro])re of the chief of the 
 Peruvian expedition, and thus add another injury to the still bleeding wound of his 
 self-conceit. 
 
 If the captain of the frigate, as the reader may judge to be the fact, had some reason 
 for cordially detesting the Count de la Blanche-Epine, I for my part had every reason 
 to think highly of his proceedings, though it may hurt his modesty to see this public 
 testimony to his merits. Since the hour when, deceived by the size of the corolla, 
 he had mistaken the giant convolvulus that I was painting for an aristolochia, that 
 estimable and noble personage had honoured me with his particular attention, and 
 treated me with the greatest courtesy. Whenever an opportunity presented itself 
 to address to me some graceful or flattering expression — more often flattering than 
 graceful — he had seized on it with avidity, and if an occasion was slow to offer, he had 
 tried to make one. Such demonstrations of good : will should certainly have excited 
 my gratitude and won my sympathies, but there are natures so constituted — and mine 
 appears to be of the munber — that the more one tries to constrain them the more 
 anxious they are, like old Proteus, to elude one's grasp. Every step that the Count 
 de la Blanche-Epine had made in advance towards me had been neiitralized on my part 
 by a step backward, so that, if half a word had been all that was necessary to establish 
 a good understanding between us, we should have made the tour of the world without 
 comprehending each other, or ever coming together. 
 
 Among the courtesies of every kind of which I was the object on his part at the 
 commencement of the journey, I may mention the impressive earnestness with which 
 he placed between my hands his album — a book in quarto — accompanying the action 
 with a melting smile and a variation of the formula with which Dinarzade addresses 
 her sister Scheherazade: "My dear sir, if you have nothing better to do, favour me with 
 one of those beautiful designs which you know so well how to make." How was it 
 possible to remain deaf to such a prayer? I opened the book at a blank page, and 
 having sharpened my crayon and wetted my pencil, I executed some school-girl's 
 drawing, such as people never hesitate to pronounce the work of a master, and which 
 drew clown upon my head such a deluge of hyperbolical praise, to say nothing of thanks, 
 that, stupified, astonished, and quite bewildered, I hastened to finish the picture, and 
 return the album to its proprietor. 
 
 These incidents, which had slumbered forgotten in a corner of my memory, have 
 been recalled by my reference to the episode of the cartridge-boxes. I had hardly 
 deposited these articles upon the sand than I found myself obliged, little as I cared 
 to do so, to sketch a group of Antis gesticulating about them — a picturesque memento 
 which the Count de la Blanche-Epine said he desired to keep of our mutual companion- 
 ship on the shore of the Chahuaris. 
 
 The day passed without any incident occurring worthy of being related. In the 
 
ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 431 
 
 evening we supped -by candle-light, After supper, the captain himself called the roll of 
 our escort, and he found that five out of the remaining tAvelve men had profited by the 
 darkness to slip away. Happily, our friend's cry of rage on making this discovery was 
 heard by myself alone; for if the Count de la Blanche-Epine had been present, his 
 ethnologic reflections, and his bursts of laughter on hearing of this new desertion, and 
 observing the effect it had produced on the chief of the Peruvian expedition, would 
 have excited him to the highest pitch of exasperation, and converted the comedy 
 into a mournful tragedy. 
 
 To prevent the soldiers who remained from following their comrades, should 
 the idea occur to them, they were coupled together, and being deprived of their 
 greatcoats, and the various articles of their equipment, placed under the immediate 
 surveillance of some trusty cholos. Feeling confident that the escort, thus guarded, 
 could not abandon us, the captain re-entered the hut, where I followed him. That 
 evening was the last we passed at Chahuaris. The double expedition now joined in 
 council to fix the hour of departure, which was settled by a majority of seven voices 
 out of eight to be at mid-day on the morrow. Before we retired for the night, Father 
 Astuto announced that at ten o'clock in the morning Father Bobo, the chaplain to 
 the expedition, would celebrate mass, to invoke the blessing of the Almighty upon 
 our heads — a pious thought which we were all eager to applaud. 
 
 The night was calm. Being up before the sun we saw at a glance that the star 
 of day was about to rise in a serene sky, as if to smile on our departure. At ten o'clock 
 precisely, a cracked bell, of which we had not suspected the existence, was energetically 
 rung to summon the faithful, who were dispersed along the shore, to mass. Hast- 
 ening to the front of the hut, we found that Father Bobo had already taken from a 
 green locker, which served him as a linen -chest, the alb, the chasuble, the stole, 
 and the maniple, with which he was provided for the journey. Two boards placed 
 edgewise, with one above, formed the altar, which was covered with a table-cloth 
 a little soiled with coffee. The breviary of the old monk, together with a chalice 
 and a paten of silver, had been arranged with a certain regard to symmetry. As to 
 the wine and water necessary for the holy sacrifice, the first of these liquids was 
 contained in a cut-glass bottle, upon the illuminated and gilt label of which I 
 deciphered with a feeling of tender regret these words, still sweetly suggestive of my 
 
 native country: — 
 
 EXTEAIT 
 
 POUR LE MOUCHOIR. 
 
 L. T. Piver, 103 rue Saint-Martin, Paris. 
 
 A wine-bottle carefully rinsed out contained gome water from the river. Father 
 Bobo had just clothed himself with his sacerdotal ornaments, and was smoking 
 peacefully while waiting till Ave were all collected. It was not until we had fallen on 
 our knees and were properly grouped, that he threw away the end of his cigar, and 
 advancing towards the altar, pronounced the Introibo ad altare Dei, which we received 
 by crossing ourselves. The Antis Indians standing near us appeared to make very 
 merry at this spectacle, and their shouts of laughter at times quite disturbed our 
 composure. At the lie missa est, which closes the service of the mass, I looked at 
 
432 PERU. 
 
 my watch to see what time the ceremony had lasted, and found that it had been 
 exactly eleven minutes. As a good Catholic, I know within about three syllables the 
 number of phrases contained in the prayers of the mass, from the canon of con 
 secration to the final blessing: it astonished me, therefore, that our worthy chaplain 
 had been able to say so much in so little time. 
 
 Having thus provided for the necessities of our souls, we began to think of our 
 bodies. It would have been unwholesome to commence our journey on empty 
 stomachs. Our cholos prepared breakfast, the cooking and consumption of which 
 occupied two good hours. It was noon when the repast was finished. Our pots, pans, 
 and kettles, having been properly cleansed, were suspended round the luggage on the 
 rafts, like the shields of ancient warriors on the sides of their war- galleys. Arranged 
 in a line on shore, we waited for the moment to start, The personnel of our troop 
 was distributed as follows: the chief of the French commission, the assistant natu- 
 ralist, and four cholo rowers with an Antis Indian for pilot, were to occupy one of 
 the large canoes. The chief of the Peruvian commission, his lieutenant, the corporal, 
 and Father Bobo, seated themselves in the other canoe, provided with an equal 
 number of rowers. The geographer and myself had selected from the three remaining 
 canoes one that appeared to unite the three conditions of size, strength, and lightness. 
 The other two, manned by cholos and Antis, were to serve as advice -boats, keep 
 a look-out for dangerous places, havens, or creeks, and to act as scouts on the flanks 
 of the squadron, which the rafts, heavily laden, and manned by fellows with long- 
 poles, accompanied in the character of transports. 
 
 The moment of separation had arrived. The inquisitive and idle who had come 
 that morning from Cocabambillas, and from Echarati, to see, as they said, "the idiots" 
 rush to their destruction, were stationed on the shore, where they formed the arc of 
 a circle, of which Ave constituted the chord. Father Astuto moved busily to and fro, 
 eagerly asking each of us if he had forgotten anything, if he had left anything, if there 
 was any last adieu, letter, or packet which he wished to send to relations, friends, or 
 acquaintances; offering in such case to send it to its address. These kind proffers of 
 service by the chief of the mission were mingled with scraps of advice whispered in 
 the ears of the cholos, prudent recommendations, and exhortations to take great care 
 of us. As we were about to step into our respective canoes, three salutes were fired 
 by order of Father Astuto in honour of the French and Peruvian colours represented 
 by the two principal vessels. That done, the monk approached to give each of us a 
 final hand grasp, which he accompanied with an affectionate word by way of farewell. 
 When it came to my turn he looked at me with a singular air, which I attributed to the 
 emotion he experienced in this supreme moment. "Serior Francais," said he after a 
 pause, "remember you will always find in me a true friend!" Thereupon he left me 
 brusquely, and I had no time to thank him for the interest he seemed to feel. 
 
 Five minutes after this moving scene we were squatting in our nut-shells, with our 
 knees up to our chins, and our elbows pressed close for want of room. A last 
 "hurrah" was exchanged between us and the spectators on shore; then, at the 
 final exclamation, "Adieu, oil' with you!" the ropes of liane were cut by our 
 
11 
 
 iiiiiiiiiiii! I m 
 
 iiiiiii 
 
 
 I 
 
 
 
 
 55 
 
ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 
 
 435 
 
 pilots, and the river, the current of which at this part runs nine knots an hour, 
 carried us along at a fearful speed. 
 
 The first half-hour of this mad navigation, in which the rowers had nothing 
 to do, and the pilot steered us with no other help than that of his paddle, was 
 signalized by incidents well calculated to cool at the commencement of the voyage 
 the adventurous humour of the most determined. Hocks, level with the surface 
 
 7 .tO'JK 
 
 DEPARTURE FROM CHAHDARIS. 
 
 of the water, grazed our frail barks in passing, throwing them to starboard and 
 larboard without the least regard for the laws of equilibrium, and almost drew 
 from us cries of terror. Curling waves which we could not always avoid washed 
 over us from head to foot. We thus got a foretaste, as it were, of the petty misei'ies 
 which awaited us on our future road. Each one, nevertheless, forced a smile as 
 he looked at his comrade. It would have been ridiculous to begin so soon the 
 chapter of interjections and complaints. 
 
 Drenched and well-nigh dazed, yet always driven with as much speed as if the 
 stormy breath of iEolus had been let loose against our craft, we reached a barren spot 
 called Mancureali, where we brought up by common consent to repair some damages 
 that had been sustained by one of the rafts. Whilst they tightened the lianas which 
 held together the disjointed timbers, we jumped ashore to stretch our legs; the 
 
436 
 
 PERU. 
 
 posture which the narrowness of our canoes imposed on us, and the immobility 
 which we had been obliged to maintain since leaving Chahuaris, had caused frightful 
 cramps, of which we were soon relieved by a little manly exercise ashore. 
 
 Mancureali, where Ave had just landed, is one of those lomas or hillocks which 
 form, on the eastern side, the last steps of the Cordilleras. Some false-walnuts with 
 ribbed drupes (Pseudo-juglans) ; two or three oaks (Quercus), native to these lati- 
 
 BAPIDS OF MANCUREALI. 
 
 tudes; some laurestinas and scented vernonias; here and there great rosewood-trees 
 {Jacarandas), which were just now without flowers or leaves, and accordingly 
 looked as if they were dead or denuded by winter, characterized the vegetation 
 of this spot — otherwise a desert — and stamped it with a strange sadness. A little 
 brook rippling down from the heights traversed the hill from west to east, and 
 ultimately mingled its crystalline waters with the disturbed and yellowish-looking 
 flood of the Santa Ana. On the first level, blocks of freestone, of the colour of 
 yellow ochre and faded pink, formed a striking contrast to the soft hues and dull 
 hues of the hills; blocks of the same nature encumbered the shore, and extended 
 into the middle of the river, where they presented an obstacle to the current, and 
 caused a succession of rapids, the character of which, the motion of the waves, and 
 the sparkle of the foam, were well calculated to attract an artist in search of the 
 
ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 
 
 4^7 
 
 picturesque, but which the traveller who had to pass them in a native canoe could 
 not contemplate without dread. 
 
 The Antis who accompanied us had been the first to climb the shore, aiding 
 their ascent by grasping the bushes or shrubs within reach, and bounding from 
 rock to rock like goats. We followed them, but not without effort and some loss 
 of breath. On the summit of the hill we found a circular cabin roofed with stubble, 
 its sides, about three feet high, composed of stakes driven in very closely together. 
 Seeing the savages enter this habitation, which belonged to one of their own race, 
 we did not hesitate to follow. Its tenants were absent, and had forgotten to close the 
 door; but they incurred no risk by their neglect. Its interior was devoid of furniture, 
 
 THE SHOEB AT MANCUREALI. 
 
 containing only skeletons of birds, bones of peccaries (Dicotyles lablatun), skins 
 of the sweet Coloquintidce, and green bananas, none of which were likely to tempt 
 the cupidity of passers-by. 
 
 Having examined this miserable den, the floor of which was buried beneath 
 an accumulation of ashes and broken straw, we returned to the shore, where we 
 found two of our rowers stretched out dead drunk. By dint of rolling them 
 about with their feet and pouring cold water on their heads, our fellows succeeded 
 in giving them a semblance of life in default of reason; and as room could not be 
 found for them in the canoes, which they would have certainly overturned, they 
 were dragged on to the rafts, where, protected by the luggage, they were left lying on 
 their backs, gasping like fish out of water. 
 
 After passing two hours on the coast of Mancureali, the stones of which had 
 been sufficiently heated by the sun to cook an egg, we began to think of continuing 
 our journey. The canoes were again pushed into the midst of the current, which 
 bore them along like dry leaves driven by a gust of wind. Two leagues of this 
 
438 PERU. 
 
 furious pace, as estimated by the chronometer and a sufficiently exact knowledge of 
 the speed of the current, 1 led us to the spot where the river Yanatili, flowing from the 
 valley of Lares, and augmented on its way by the Occobamba, joins the Santa Ana, 
 which beyond Chahuaris takes the name of the Quillabamba. 2 Here the two 
 streams, meeting at a right angle and heaving their swift waters against each other, 
 seem to pause for an instant, like two bulls that have met with a violent rush, and 
 being thrown back upon their haunches remain stunned for a moment by the violence 
 of the shock. 
 
 This place, called el Encuentro (the meeting), though not at all remarkable, is 
 vividly impressed on my memory in consequence of the following incident: — At the 
 moment we passed the point of confluence, one of our rafts struck on a submerged 
 rock, of which none of our rowers had suspected the existence. The two men on 
 board were thrown among the luggage, and caused a package of twelve axes to slip 
 into the river. Twelve axes in the desert, mind you ! equal in value to twelve 
 canoes, or twelve native children, as the purchaser might prefer. These twelve axes, 
 alas! were mine. Such a loss at the commencement of the voyage impressed me 
 seriously. My companion, the geographer, vainly attempted to console me, by 
 citing Greek and Latin passages from the most renowned philosophers ; vainly, to 
 make me laugh, he repeated all the nonsense he could think of; his maxims and his 
 jests were equally ineffective. Not one wrinkle in my forehead Avas relaxed during the 
 remainder of the day. 
 
 We continued, not to navigate, but to fly with the stream; the decline of which, 
 visible to the eye, represented a descent of some three or four yards in a mile. From 
 time to time our faces were drenched by the flying spray, or we were struck forcibly by 
 the waves when a false stroke of the paddle exposed the boat to their shock. As 
 the temperature was high, and the water fresh instead of salt, we stoically bore these 
 little miseries. Neither crying nor blaspheming, we contented ourselves, like Panurge, 
 witli seeing the water Avhich had entered by the neck of our shirts, run out from the 
 legs of our trousers. 
 
 Three miles from Encuentro, which is also called Putucusi, although the latter 
 place — inhabited by the way — belongs to the valley of Lares, not to that of Santa Ana 
 —we passed, with the velocity of sea-gulls skimming the waves, a place called Illapani, 
 the resources of which are now developed by its civilized conquerors, but which, at the 
 time I speak of, was cultivated by the Antis Indians. A little hut thatched with stubble, 
 a thicket of bananas, a Laurus persea, or avocatier, and a lemon-tree loaded with fruit, 
 were the only details I noticed. This plantation overlooked a circular bay, where the 
 water of the river, calm and transparent, slept as in a basin. Two hundred yards 
 further, the same river, again noisy and furious, roared, bubbled, and foamed around 
 the black rocks which obstructed its current. Our light canoes, darting forward like 
 
 1 This current, varying according to the configuration of the ground it traverses, has been measured by us several 
 times by means of the log and sand-glass, both at ordinary times and during floods. The mean speed between Echarati 
 aud Chahuaris is eight knots an hour. 
 
 2 Plain of the Moon. It bears this name as far as its junction with the river Apurimac. 
 
ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 
 
 439 
 
 horses in a race, passed safely these obstacles. Not so the rafts, the surface and size 
 of which rendered them difficult to work in the tumultuous waters. In spite of the 
 efforts of the balseros with their long poles, we saw our floating-planks whirled by the 
 stream and fixed between two rocks like a wedge driven into a stone. The men on 
 board gained the bank by swimming, ami joined our canoes, which were brought to a 
 stand in a quiet corner of the river (remanso). The recovery of the raft was for the 
 
 JUNCTION OF THE RIVERS YANATILI AND QUILL AB AM B A SANTA ANA. 
 
 time impossible. The sun had sunk low in the heavens, the day was about to end, 
 and a halt was agreed on. We landed at once, so as to remain in sight of our luckless 
 craft. 
 
 This place, called Chulituqui, as we were told by the native guides, was a shore 
 encumbered with rocks of all sizes more or less angular and sharp, well calculated to 
 give any one who should think of reposing on them a sensation like that experienced 
 by Micromegas 1 when lying at full length on the summits of the Alps. 
 
 Our first care was to light a fire, as much for the purpose of warming ourselves as 
 for drying our clothes, for in these latitudes, although the days are intensely hot, the 
 nights are almost cold. We shared in common some eatables, which had been 
 forgotten in the bottom of the canoes, our supplies of rusks, rice, and other provisions 
 
 1 Micromegas is the hero of a philosophical or semi-allegorical story by Voltaire. — Tr. 
 
440 PERU. 
 
 being on the rafts, and consequently out of our reach. Having thus supped as well 
 as might be, we made the necessary arrangements to pass the night as comfortably as 
 possible. 
 
 On looking for a place where I might stretch my wearied limbs, I descried at some 
 twenty paces from the shore, just above a shelving bank, two dwarf box-trees whose 
 knotty roots grew between the stones. Here I suspended my hammock, in which I 
 lay down dressed as I was. The approximation of its extremities giving to my body 
 the form of a capital U, brought the centre of the hammock so near the ground that 
 a sharp stone moulded its pattern in my loins. The position was perplexing, nay, 
 unendurable; but I tried to forget it by invoking the divine Morpheus, father of sleep 
 and dreams. At the moment when the god had shed over my eyes his sleep-giving 
 poppies — sopori/erum papaver, as Virgil says — a hand touched my hammock, and at 
 the same moment a voice said, 
 
 "Are you asleep already?" 
 
 I rose suddenly to see who spoke. By his lean and tall figure I recognized the 
 chief of the Peruvian expedition. 
 
 "What the d brings you here?" I said to him; "what's up?" 
 
 " Something of which you are ignorant, and which it will be disagreeable to you to 
 learn. Did you remark the strange manner in which Fra Astuto looked at you at the 
 moment of our departure?" 
 
 "Indeed, yes!" 
 
 " Do you remember the assurance that he gave you, that you would always find 
 in him a true friend?" 
 
 " I recollect it, and it has a little surprised me." 
 
 " You felt, in fact, that he said exactly the contrary of what he meant. The worthy 
 Franciscan has sworn eternal hatred to you." 
 
 "Nonsense! what for?" 
 
 " Because you have written two explanatory but little flattering letters concerning 
 him. Those letters, which you sent to Cuzco, were intercepted by him, and never 
 reached their addresses. I had the facts from Fra Bobo our chaplain. The poor man 
 cannot forgive his companion for having obliged him to undertake, at his age, a journey 
 so perilous as ours. There now, try to go to sleep. As for me I have selected a place 
 between three square stones for my sleeping chamber." 
 
 For a moment I felt stupified with this information, admiring with a certain 
 sense of fear by what secret means Providence turns the arrows from the mark and 
 letters from their addresses. Then the fatigue of the body reacted on the spirit; I 
 felt as if the thread of my ideas was broken, and soon sank into a profound sleep. 
 
56 
 

SEVENTH STAGE. 
 
 CHULITTTQUI TO TTJNKINI 
 
 (PERU). 
 
NIGHT BIVOUAC AT M APITUNUHU AKI. 
 
 SEVENTH STAGE, 
 
 CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 
 
 Hymn to Aurora. — Disastrous effects of a night passed iu the open air. — The shore at Mapitunuhuari. — In chase of a 
 raft. — The situation is aggravated and becomes more complicated than ever. — We are reminded, after an interval of 
 three thousand years, of the wrath of Achilles and the pride of Agamemnon. — A raw ham regarded as poison. — While 
 the Franco-Peruvian expedition is considering which of the saints it ought to invoke, the author amuses himself 
 by correcting some altitudes. — Monograph on the cock of-the-rock. — Copy of an authentic deed. — An oath taken 
 on a breviary in the absence of the Gospel. — Farewell for ever on the shores of Coribeni. — A bad night passed at 
 Sirialo.— The site of Polohuatiui. — Evidence that the theories of M. Proudhon are more widely diffused than people 
 generally imagine. — The Antis of Sangobatea. — Blue and purple dogs. — Anthropological studies. — Simuco the bow- 
 man, and how he bought his second wife. — A geographical lesson on the shore at Quitini. — A baptism. — A captain 
 godfather, and a lieutenant godmother. — A musical phrase of Herold confided to the echoes of Biricanani. — The 
 calm waters of Cauari. — A ready-made picture of genre. — The ajoupas of Mauugali. — How the Franco-Peruvian 
 expedition, following the example of Nausicaa, the daughter of Alcinous, hung its wet linen to dry on the shore. 
 — The disaster of Pachiri. — The impossibility of devoting oneself to a study in botany. — The rapids of Yaviro. — 
 The orator of Saniriato. — The rapid of Siutuliui. — Death of Father Bobo. — How a captain of a frigate and his 
 lieutenant lost their shirts while preserving their presence of mind. — Date obolum Bclisario. — Story of a double 
 nightcap. — Divine justice and vengeance follow crime. — From Charybdis to Scylla. — A chief of a scientific expedition 
 suspended by the armpits. — The rapid of Tuukiui. — Description of a gorge or canon. — Sudden passage from dark- 
 ness to light. — The American plains. 
 
 We were awoke at early dawn by the warbling of birds, which threaded with their 
 silver sounds, like the tune of flutes in an orchestra, the roaring of the rapids, and 
 
446 PERU. 
 
 the yelling of the guaribas (howling monkeys, Simla belzebntli). Those amongst us 
 who heard for the first time the harsh sounds produced by the cartilaginous glottis 
 of this species of ape, were inclined to attribute the uproar to a dozen bulls bellowing 
 in concert. As for those whose ears were familiar with it, they prayed devoutly for 
 the rising of the sun, which could alone put an end to the hideous discord, as the 
 quadrumana in question only raise their voices at the approach of dawn and evening 
 twilight, to bid good day or good night to Phoebus. 
 
 That first night passed in the open air had tried the constitutions of the most 
 delicate of the party. Some had blood-shot eyes; others swollen faces and livid lips; 
 all had stiffened limbs, and a feeling of heaviness in their heads. 
 
 A meagre breakfast, on the provisions found in the canoes — our commissariat stores 
 being still on the rafts — dispersed in some degree these symptoms, and opportunely 
 silenced our men, who were already disheartened by the misadventures which had 
 signalized the commencement of our journey. We sent the balseros, accompanied by 
 two Antis, to disengage the rafts; and leaving them to their work, we embarked and 
 went on in advance. 
 
 After rowing about three miles we disembarked, and made our way along the 
 shore on foot, while our men guided the canoes through the islets of sand and stones 
 which made an archipelago of the river, and divided its main stream into many shallow 
 but furious currents. (I must here advertise the reader that the verb to guide, which 
 I have underlined, and am likely to use very frequently in this part of my narrative, is 
 not employed in the sense of conducting and directing, according to the dictionary, but 
 has a passive significance, which I will endeavour to explain. In the dangerous pas- 
 sages we disembarked, as in this instance, and Avalked along the shore. The rowers 
 then attached a liana, by way of a cable, to the stern of the boat or raft, which was 
 allowed to drive with the current, but was steadied and prevented from dashing against 
 the rocks by all the force that the men could exert on the end of the liana. This 
 mode of guiding a boat, while being dragged along by it, is, I need not say, entirely 
 unlike anything seen on European rivers.) 
 
 After two hours of navigation interrupted by halts to give the rafts time to rejoin 
 us, and nothing having yet been seen of them, we landed for the purpose of camping 
 on a spot called Mapitunuhuari. This curious name, according to the Antis, who, as 
 pseudo-Christians, gabbled a little Quichua, was that of an individual of their tribe 
 whom they called a captain, and of whose prowess they vaunted. The dwelling of 
 this savage, situated at the extremity of a narrow and winding gorge, Avas so well 
 defended at the entrance by bushes bristling with wiry shoots and thorns, that the 
 fear of tearing our shirt, and perhaps our skin, prevented us, although we wished 
 to do so, from paying a complimentary visit to the valiant chief. 
 
 The two shores of the Quillabamba Santa Ana, Avhich since leaving Chulituqui 
 I had only been able to glance at in haste, as the rocks which closed in the stream, 
 and the rapidity of the navigation, did not permit of their being studied in detail, 
 seemed to me now of secondary interest so far as regarded their topography, and but 
 little attractive in respect to their vegetation. The sandstone blocks observable since 
 
 

 N?m. 
 
 ' : ■ -. —_z c ' 7:' ■->- >Jir!* 
 
 ' 
 
 ■ 
 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 
 
 447 
 
 we left Chahuaris, with the constantly-recurring shades of yellow ochre or faded pink, 
 whether upstanding, inclined, or horizontal in their stratification, formed the principal 
 feature of the scene, and served like steps to the squat and sombre looking cerros. 
 These cerros, interlacing with one another in such a way as to form, when viewed 
 
 GROUP OP TARAPOTE PALMS (iRIARTEA VENTRICOSA.) 
 
 from a distance, a compact and homogeneous whole, gave to the landscape an aspect 
 of wearisome monotony, which disposed one to yawn. In some places the rocky 
 formation disappeared from view, and the vegetation suddenly re-appeared, seeming 
 the more vigorous for having been so long stifled. Peeps of landscape, delightful for 
 their shade and freshness, appeared as if framed in stone. The slopes of the two 
 shores were clothed with a fine green grass like the rye-grass of English meadows. 
 Sand-box trees, ingas, false -walnuts, oaks, guaiacums, and leafless jacarandas, 
 mingled artistically their foliage, more or less sombre, with their flowers, more or 
 
448 PERU. 
 
 less brilliant. Here and there a tarapote palm, with its candlestick or bellied trunk, 
 rising from a pedestal of roots, imparted to the site a tropical character, which con- 
 trasted rather than harmonized with the diffused light and the encumbering rocks, 
 which recalled the Cordillera and its immediate neighbourhood. 
 
 The day was far spent, and yet the rafts did not make their appearance. Seated 
 on the summit of the highest rocks by the shore, and searching the distance of the 
 river with anxious looks, we kept asking one of the other, as Bluebeard's wife asked 
 of Sister Anne, "Do you see anyone coming?" But the day declined, the sun grew 
 red in the west, the horizon was veiled in haze, and still nothing appeared. Our 
 anxiety was the more painful as we had eaten but little in the morning, and the open 
 air, the change from place to place, and the lapse of time, had given us a craving 
 for food which we knew not how to satisfy, our provisions being, as already explained, 
 on one of the rafts. At the moment when we had yielded to despair, the joyous 
 exclamation of one of our look-outs apprised us that something was in sight. Instantly 
 every eye was turned in the direction indicated by the man. A moving mass appeared 
 far off in the perspective, and, driven by the current, rapidly approached us. We 
 recognized one of our transports; but from the manner in which it descended the 
 river, we surmised with a secret fear that it was abandoned to itself, and that no balsero 
 guided it. As it whirled along opposite the spot where we were all assembled, a cry 
 rung over the waters, and a dishevelled and streaming head, which one might have 
 taken for that of a marine monster, but which we recognized as belonging to one of 
 our Antis, appeared in the wake of the machine. From the manner in which the 
 man struck out, it was easy to divine that an accident of some kind had separated 
 him from the raft, and that he was struggling to overtake it. Encouraged by our 
 cries and gestures he redoubled his efforts, and at length seized one of the timbers, 
 and so climbed upon the raft. By the aid of a pole which he found ready to hand, 
 he then directed it towards the shore, where his comrades welcomed him with trans- 
 port. Hinjyiato, for this was the name of the intrepid chuncho who had accomplished 
 this important work of salvage, received our felicitations with a modest air. Among 
 the little objects by the gift of which we desired to recognize the service he had ren- 
 dered us, was a new and brilliant uniform button, which he attached to a thread and 
 passed through the cartilage of his nostrils. 
 
 Our joy was soon changed to mourning when we discovered the state of our 
 provisions saved on the raft. The biscuit and grilled bread, after soaking all night 
 in the river, were as soft as pap; the rice was swollen ready to burst; the smoked 
 mutton had separated from the bone as if it had been cooked; and the ruddy flesh of 
 a ham, which had been cut the evening before, exhibited that indescribable mixture 
 of green, lilac, and blue, which our Parisians, as good colourists, would have com- 
 pared to the tints of the drowned bodies exposed at the Morgue. 
 
 While we were deploring our hard fate the other rafts and their conductors arrived. 
 The latter appeared to be in a very bad humour. Refreshment was distributed all 
 round; each greedily swallowed his portion of soaked bread and livid mutton, and 
 made such preparations as he could to pass the night. Fires were lighted on the shore, 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINt 449 
 
 the rafts were made secure, and after a mutual exchange of civilities, each went to 
 stretch himself between the particular stones of which he had made choice. 
 
 The night that we passed at Mapitunuhuari was very similar to that we had enjoyed 
 at Chulituqui. The only difference that we noticed was in the name of the places and 
 the size of the stones, which were one-third larger here than there. Immediately on 
 rising we gathered up our skins and coverings, and entering our canoes, gave the word 
 to push into the stream. The balseros loosened the lianes with which the rafts were 
 made fast to the shore, and prepared to follow us. 
 
 A considerable rapid named Quinquerutine, about 200 yards from the place where 
 we had passed the night, was the only obstacle we met with between there and 
 Umiripanco, a distance of twelve miles. Here we halted to lunch and give the rafts 
 time to rejoin us. Although our appetites were prodigiously increased by the rapidity 
 of the navigation and the keen air of the river, we were forced to be satisfied with 
 some spoonfuls of pap and a slice of the raw ham. The savages took their share of 
 these good things, and after having smelled them, and smelled them again, as if to 
 assure themselves of their nature, they ate them with fewer grimaces than might have 
 been expected, considering these articles of diet were novelties to them. This meagre 
 repast being finished, each occupied himself as well as he could by way of pastime. 
 Some settled themselves down to take a nap ; others amused themselves by calculating 
 how long it would be possible for an adult to live on a shaving of ham and two 
 spoonfuls of pap a day. These again — and they were the better philosophers — sat 
 aside and charmed the flying hours by scribbling on their knees; while those mended 
 their pantaloons, which had been damaged by the incidents of the voyage. 
 
 As it was now noon, and our people with the rafts had not rejoined us, two Antis 
 were sent in search of them. By striking in a direct line through the wood the distance 
 to be traversed was three-quarters of an hour's walk. Our messengers, who were to 
 receive four fish-hooks for their trouble, set off running, and very soon returned. The 
 account they brought was disastrous. Our rafts with the luggage had upset in the 
 rapid of Quinquerutine, and our balseros were occupied in disengaging the one and 
 fishing up the other. It was enough to make us believe that some malign influence 
 had interfered to prevent us from proceeding on our journey. 
 
 It was five hours longer before the absentees rejoined us. We expected some 
 excuse on their part, or at least some sympathetic manifestation which might prove 
 that our weary waiting and anxiety had been felt by them; but in this we were 
 disappointed. Instead of a friendly smile, Ave were met with an ugly grimace; and, so 
 far from excusing themselves for their prolonged absence, if they had even realized the 
 fact, it was only to complain of the extra work that it had given them. Besides this, 
 finding that the rations which were immediately given to them were not to their taste, 
 they seized the opportunity when we had turned our backs, to relieve the sacks of 
 provisions of a part of their contents. 
 
 Having appeased their hunger they drew aside, inviting our rowers to follow, and 
 beckoning the savages to accompany them. A conversation which ensued among them 
 was followed by an animated discussion, the purpose of which we shrewdly guessed 
 
 VOL. I. 6? 
 
450 PERU. 
 
 without quite comprehending it. From these stormy harangues, as from clouds charged 
 with thunder, there came from time to time a flash of words Avhich reached us like 
 lightning, and revealed the situation as in clear daylight. At what given moment, and 
 in what manner this revolt would ripen to action, was what none of us could foresee. 
 
 In the midst of this effervescence of spirits — a barrel of powder which only 
 wanted a spark to explode it — the chiefs of the united commissions, Avho since our 
 departure from Chahuaris had with difficulty restrained their ill temper, saw in the 
 hostile attitude of our people an opportunity to gratify it. The Count de la Blanche- 
 Epine was the first to unmask his battery, and commenced fire by causing the remains 
 of our provisions to be put in a secure place, alleging as a reason fur doing so, "that a 
 Peruvian balsero ate like four men and did less work than one; and that it was 
 necessary in the general interest to accustom his stomach to the regime of a single 
 ration." To this volley of his adversaiy the commandant of the frigate sharply replied, 
 that "when people transformed his countrymen into cormorants, and employed them 
 from morning to night in fishing up things from the bottom of a river, they ought at 
 least to feed them sufficiently; and that if it had not been for the great lumbering 
 trunks and almost empty boxes which the French commission dragged about with it 
 for the sake of looking big, the journey would not have been hindered at every step by 
 these accidents." This sharp exchange of incendiary phrases between the rival chiefs was 
 kept up until night had stretched over us her sombre wings. As on the previous 
 evening fires were kindled on the shore, and now, as then, we made our beds among the 
 stones, calling on sleep to calm the nervous trepidation with which we were all agitated. 
 
 Our people fraternally mixed with the Antis, passed a part of the night in warming 
 up, and cooking under our very eyes, and in our own pots, the provisions which they 
 had stolen from us the evening before. Just at daybreak five balseros took the key of 
 the fields, and carried off with them the sabres, muskets, and haversacks belonging to 
 the soldiers of the escort. Left without means of defence, but preserving the use of 
 their eyes and their two arms, these soldiers could still serve us by acting as rowers in 
 place of those we had lust. We proposed therefore to arm them with pules, and mount 
 them upon the rafts, a proposition which they accepted, but the execution of which 
 they postponed. Wounded in their pride, and considering it a dishonour to have been 
 despoiled of their arms by chu/-u]xicos (pikins, paltry civilians), they only asked for the 
 time necessary to take their revenge, swearing that before an hour was over they 
 would bring the vagabonds back dead or alive. Before we ceuld open our mouths to 
 reply, they had disappeared in the wood. As neither the thieves nor the thief-catchers, 
 neither the civil nor the military, ever appeared again, we concluded that this double 
 evasion was the result of a plan concocted in the night; and, while lamenting the result, 
 we tried our best to forget the annoyance. 
 
 Tt is probable enough that we should have succeeded in dismissing the subject from 
 our thoughts, if the savages — hitherto indifferent spectators of these disputes — had not 
 in their turn shown a like intention to go in search of some une or some thing. 
 Such at least was the idea that uccurred to us on seeing them gather together their 
 bows and arrows, and pass over their arms the cotton bag or wallet in which they carried 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 401 
 
 their comb, their rouge-pot, their looking-glass, and their snuff-box. As they moved 
 off towards the canoes, the chiefs of the united commission rushed forward and begged 
 them to consider that they had been paid in advance with hatchets and knives to escort 
 us as far as the country of the Chontaquiros, and that to abandon us on the road, as they 
 seemed to intend doing, would be to abuse our confidence and break a treaty that had 
 been made mutually binding. In the anxiety they felt the Count de la Blanche-Epine 
 and the commandant of the frigate had spoken in French and Spanish respectively. 
 The Antis, little acquainted with these languages, failed to understand one word of 
 the speech addressed to them, and only laughed in the face of the speakers. This 
 caused a fearful confusion of tongues, each expressing himself in his own language, 
 Antis, Quichua, Castillian, and French, mingling with such a fearful crash their vowels 
 and consonants that one might have supposed we were under the walls of Babel on the 
 day the builders were dispersed. By degrees the tumult subsided, and calm was 
 re-established. A cholo of the mission acquainted with the idiom of the Antis was 
 designated by our chaplain, Father Bobo, to serve as dragoman, and, thanks to his 
 conversation with the savages, an unexpected light was thrown upon our situation. 
 Without knowing it we had been walking over a mine ready charged, which at any 
 moment might explode under our feet. 
 
 The successive disasters which had happened to our rafts were not the effect of 
 accident, as we believed, but the result of a conspiracy. It was the intention of the 
 balseros to appropriate the objects which composed their lading, and of which they had 
 offered one-half to the Antis if the latter had consented to aid them in their work of 
 rapine. 
 
 In fine — and here we come to the dramatic feature of the situation — these same 
 balseros, in order to convince the savages that the pillage of our goods was only an act 
 of justice, had told them that we were punarunacunas (men of the plateaux), faithless 
 and lawless, having no settled home, no king and no God, and that we would only 
 lead them to their destruction. The food we had given to them at Mapitunuhuari, and 
 especially the doubtful ham, were poisoned. If the Antis had eaten this rat's-bane and 
 escaped with their lives it was because they had stomachs lined with copper; but on the 
 next occasion we should be sure to double the close, and not one of them would escape! 
 
 It is easy to understand the effect of such insinuations on these stupid savages. 
 It was with the greatest difficulty in the world we could persuade them we had no wish 
 to shorten their days. Father Bobo had to intervene in person and call to his aid the 
 oratorical resources of the pulpit. He even produced his pocket-crucifix, and offered to 
 swear upon the holy image that our intentions had always been honest and our hearts 
 full of benevolence towards our allies. 
 
 Almost convinced by the discourse of our chaplain that we had never had the least 
 intention to injure them, the savages seemed disposed to remain with us. Some trifling 
 articles which we at once distributed among them, a little friendly banter, or a well- 
 timed smile, restored some degree of serenity to their troubled souls. We took advan- 
 tage of this change in their humour to prepare for departure, got ready our canoes, and 
 presently invited our allies to resume their places. Scarcely giving them time to take 
 
452 PERU. 
 
 their seats we pushed out into the stream, and five minutes afterwards the shore of 
 Umiripanco, which had witnessed the polyglot debates that had so well nigh been 
 fatal to us, disappeared in the distance. 
 
 If the compass and the chronometer, which had been constantly under my eyes 
 since our departure, had not indicated at this moment the direction of the river, it would 
 have been sufficient to look at the shores to know that we were heading more and 
 more to the east. The cerros and the rocks, it is true, kept us faithful company, but 
 the aridity of their surface was hidden by the vegetation which seemed to have 
 awakened from its long sleep. Here and there the view opened to deep gorges, the 
 vegetation in which had the undulating appearance of the waves of the sea, and con- 
 sisted of masses of foliage, or clumps of shrubs, which by their cordiform leaves, and 
 their pyramidal adornment of white, pink, or carnation-coloured flowers, I recognized 
 for cinchonas. We were crossing at this moment, without the majority of our com- 
 pany having any suspicion of the fact, the climatological zone which botanists assign 
 to the various species of Quinquina'. This was an opportunity to test the infallibility 
 of the system of isothermal lines, and of observing with what methodic order nature 
 has placed such and such vegetables in such and such regions, regions so clearly 
 defined that the simplest dealer in herbs could not be mistaken in his recognition of 
 them. 
 
 Unfortunately my bile was too much disturbed and my nerves rendered . too 
 sensitive by the pitiful rivalries of our companions and the perfidy and desertion of our 
 men, to admit of my paying attention for the moment to the solicitations of theories, and 
 least of all, to one of this kind. So far from being in an admiring mood, I was much 
 better prepared to discover new spots in the sun, and to vent my ill humour on some 
 one or something. Instead of contributing my share of personal observations and new 
 facts to what is already known concerning the distribution of vegetables in space, I 
 felt impelled to remark, in my bitter and discontented mood, that most of the figures 
 taken as the base of altitudes in a certain geographical treatise — -" entirely re-arranged 
 and corrected by the latest scientific information" — were singularly arbitrary when they 
 were not erroneous. 
 
 The vegetation of fifteen or twenty varieties of oaks in the hot regions of South 
 America, in place of commencing only above 5500 feet, as Ave are told by the geography 
 in question, are invariably found below that elevation. These trees, of the third or 
 fourth rate size, let it be remarked, scarcely grow at all, except at an elevation varying 
 from 2600 to 4000 feet. In some of the valleys of Peru, over an extent of many 
 degrees, the region of tree-ferns is sometimes found at an elevation of from 1300 to 
 1600 feet above the region of quinquinas; sometimes, again, these two distinct regions 
 are so confounded that it is impossible to assign to either of them the accurate limits. 
 In many places the climatological zone occupied by the active varieties of Cinchona — 
 not to be confounded with the inermotis varieties almost always located nearer the 
 Cordillera — is lower by seven or eight hundred feet than the region inhabited by the 
 cerojcylon, tarapote, and yuyu palms. The banana, which, according to the basis fixed 
 by the same treatise, should cease to bear fruit at less than 6000 feet above the sea, 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 453 
 
 produces the most delicious kind at Huiro in the valley of Santa Ana, that is to say, at 
 an elevation of 8450 feet. As to the region of Graminece, represented on the flanks 
 of the Andes by the Jarava, Stipa, Panicum, Agrostis, Avena, Dactylis, and similar 
 kinds, which, according to the aforesaid geography, commences at 13,650 feet above the 
 sea, it really begins, if I may say so without offence, at the height of about 3250 feet 
 upon the lower slopes of the Sierra de San Carlos and the inferior flanks of the 
 Pajonal. 
 
 This detailed criticism, which proves that it is as dangerous to believe in figures as 
 not to believe in them, having acted as an anodyne upon my agitated nerves, let us 
 continue the application of the remedy; only from regard for the axiom non bis in idem, 
 I will pass on from the container to the things contained, from the region of quinquinas 
 which we are traversing, to the birds which inhabit it, and will point out an error to 
 which travellers, more enthusiastic than wise, have given currency. The mistake to 
 which I allude has reference to the Peruvian "cock-of-the-rock," a bird which travellers 
 tell us they have seen assembled in dozens on the summit of an eminence or rising 
 ground, whei'e they execute such wild dances and fantastic galops as recall to one's 
 mind the ronde du sabbat of Louis Boulanger. 
 
 Before going further, let me state that Cuvier has constituted these birds a species 
 of the family of manakins of the order Passeres. Before him Linnaeus had ranged them 
 with his Piprinoe, from which Brisson separated them under the generic name of 
 Rupicola. This premised, we proposed to substitute for the epithet of Rupicola given 
 by Brisson, and adopted by Wieill and their successors, the name of Tunki, which is 
 that of the bird in Peru. This patronymic, if the learned would be so condescending 
 as to add to it the qualificative Peruvianus, would have the advantages of apprising 
 the reader of what has hitherto been unknown to him — the true name of our bird, and 
 that of the country which it inhabits. 
 
 The Tunki of Peru was known to the ancient Mexicans, who called it iqiiequemilt, 
 from the cry of the animal, expressed by the syllable ke three or four times repeated 
 in a harsh and drawn-out tone. After the conquest of Mexico, and the introduction 
 by the Spaniards of European poultry, the Aztecs, and the neighbouring nations, who 
 followed their example, gave to the domestic cock — the celector of the Greeks, the gallus 
 of the Latins — the name of chiacchialacca (chiac-chia-lacca), which, in the language of 
 these peoples, is the onomatopo?ia of the animal's cry, like co-que-ri-co in French, and 
 cock-a-doodle-do in English. This name they subsequently applied to the iquequemilt, 
 on account of the instincts common to this bird and to our domestic poultry, such as 
 dusting themselves and searching in the ground for food. 
 
 The Peruvian "cock-of-the-rock," to preserve his common appellation, differs from 
 the individual of Guiana, the Rupicola aurantia of Wieill, in size, in the colour of his 
 plumage, and especially in his habits. Like it, his head is surmounted with a longi- 
 tudinal crest formed of a double curvature of feathers, but higher in situation and more 
 thickly set than those of his congener. The eye of the bird, of a pale mauve colour, 
 is dull and toneless, like that of the European jay; the colour of his plumage is a 
 brilliant vermilion orange. The pinions and the tail feathers are a beautiful black, 
 
454 PERU. 
 
 the rump a bluish ash colour, the beak and the feet yellow, the claws black; the size 
 equal to that of a wood-pigeon, but comparatively thick-set or squat. The female is 
 smaller than the male, and her general colour is a rich chestnut, washed with carmine. 
 Instead of living a solitary life in caverns like its near relation the cock-of-the-rock 
 of Guiana, to whom naturalists have given the habits of an owl, the Tunki of Peru 
 inhabits, in families of five or six individuals, the shady copses, and delights in the 
 half light of the woodland glades. It is found in the region of tree-ferns and in that 
 of quinquinas, where it occupies a zone of about thirty miles in breadth, beyond which 
 it never passes. Its flight is heavy, and extends to a short distance only. When it 
 perches, it is upon the lower branches of the trees. Habitually it spends its time on 
 the ground in search of worms and insects, which it grubs up with its beak and its 
 strong feet, provided with four toes, three of which are in front, the external ones 
 being united to the intermediary above the second articulation and the internal joined 
 to the base of that toe. The fourth toe, or thumb, projecting backwards, is very 
 powerful, and has a hooked claw. As the number of males greatly exceed the number 
 of females, seven or eight of the former may be seen in the pairing season (December 
 and January) pursuing one of the latter with passionate demonstrations, and executing 
 around it those gyratory flights and tumblings, accompanied with the swelling of the 
 throat, which are also characteristic of European pigeons. While the cock thus shows 
 the ardour of his devotion to the hen of his choice, the latter, perched a few steps off, 
 regards him with an absent and almost indifferent air; she waits, to give her claw and 
 her heart, until the bravest and strongest of the plumed aspirants has succeeded, by 
 dint of beak and wing, in putting his rivals to flight, and remains master of the field. 
 
 It is this amorous pantomime of the cock-of-the-rock that enthusiastic travellers 
 have mistaken for a raise de Faust executed by these birds, and which, out of pure 
 love for the picturesque, they make them dance on the summit of a rock or some rising- 
 ground. Heaven save us from such enthusiasm! 
 
 The timid character of these birds and their solitary habits cause them to fre- 
 quent the depths of the forest, as we have said. They seem to shun the light of day, 
 and never trust themselves near inhabited places. It is in their retreats alone — more 
 mysterious than inaccessible — that we can alone hope to surprise them. To capture 
 them it is necessary to lie in wait, Without being at all common, they are nevertheless 
 widely distributed in all the valleys of Peru; but of fifteen or twenty of these birds 
 that we have killed in our various excursions during a dozen years, we can only count 
 one female. Their flesh, upon which we have occasionally lived, is insipid, dry, and 
 leathery. In the valley of Santa Ana, the eastern flank of the Aputinhia, a twin sister 
 of the Urusayhua mountain, appears to be a favourite resort of the cock-of-the-rock, on 
 account of its extensive and solitary woods. We refer to their predilection to this place 
 beyond others, because it once happened to us in a day's shooting to kill five of these 
 beautiful birds in the locality mentioned, a crime of lese-ornithology which we should 
 not think of committing in our present better frame of mind. 
 
 When the season of incubation approaches, the female tunki selects the cavity of 
 one of those mossy rocks that Ave find on the banks of the little rivers which run their 
 
CHUL1TUQUI TO TUJMRINI. 
 
 455 
 
 noiseless course on the eastern side of the Andes, liere she clumsily constructs her 
 nest with small sticks, grasses, and a few Hocks of vegetable silk taken from the 
 Bombax (B. Ceibu). She lays two spherical eggs a little larger than those of the pigeon, 
 and which she alone covers. During the last days of incubation, when she never leaves 
 
 TUNKI PERDVIANUS (PERUVIAN COCK-OF-THE-BOC K). 
 
 her nest, the male bird supplies her with food. When first hatched the young birds 
 are covered with a reddish brown down, and the first feathers which succeed it are of 
 the same colour as those of the mother. Nevertheless, one may observe on this uniform 
 livery the bright orange spots which distinguish the young males from the females. 
 
 Now that we have said what we believed it our duty to say, and that we feel 
 ourselves, if not absolutely soothed, yet somewhat calm in spirit, let us recall to mind 
 
456 PERU. 
 
 our canoes and rafts, which, while the reader has been scanning these lines, have 
 descended the river at the rate of two or three yards every mile. 
 
 On leaving Umiripanco we had coasted along an islet of reeds by the margin of 
 a bank of sand, avoiding some masses of rock, and by the time we found ourselves 
 off Chapo, having made scarcely two leagues, we had already crossed seven rapids. 
 It was evident, therefore, that the journey promised to be a tedious one. 
 
 Chapo, situated on the right shore of the Quillabamba Santa Ana, is a rallying 
 point and halting place adopted by the Antis, who have built there two temporary 
 ajoupas, under which they take shelter from the rain, and pass the night in case of 
 need, when their humour or their hunting and fishing parties cause them to travel 
 up or down the course of the great river. A tributary stream, some sixteen or eighteen 
 yards broad, issues from the lower flanks of the Sierra de Huilcanota, between the 
 valleys of Lares and Occobamba, and falls into the Quillabamba Santa Ana at this 
 place, after a course of about fifty miles. It is recommended to notice by a charming 
 group of palm-trees at its embouchure. 
 
 As we had no business at Chapo, we contented ourselves with this passing obser- 
 vation, and at a short distance beyond passed on our left the site of Chacamisa, per- 
 fectly desert, but remarkable for its great number of young palm-trees growing along 
 the shore. About eleven o'clock, after being hustled along by the remorseless current, 
 which allowed of no truce to our labours, we arrived, comfortably sprinkled by the 
 waves of a dozen rapids that we had passed, at the shore of Coribeni, where by 
 common consent we stayed to lunch. 
 
 This lunch, consisting of rice and meat, would have been very similar to the supper 
 of the evening before, if since then the rice, being in a state of fermentation, had 
 not had time to turn sour, and the smell of the meat to change into the odour of 
 putridity. For a moment we hoped that the quantity of these provisions would com- 
 pensate for their quality, but that hope was soon extinguished, a modest ration was 
 delivered to each of us, and with a heavy sigh we slowly ate a little of it. Our people, 
 more stoical than ourselves, refused to partake of it. On receiving their ration they 
 abused us for its insufficiency, pointing at it with a sneer, and after smelling it with 
 an air of disgust, throwing it away over their shoulder. Then, after a whispered 
 conversation, they quitted the camp, signing to the Antis to follow them. We saw 
 them disappear in the direction of a small affluent of the Quillabamba Santa Ana, which 
 ci'ossed the shore some two or three hundred yards from the place where we had 
 halted. On the shores of this little river were built, as we afterwards learned, the 
 huts of the Antis Indians. 
 
 Two hours passed away and our people had not yet reappeared. Judging that 
 the day would be lost for the journey, we made our arrangements to pass the 
 night, if arrangements they could be called, which consisted simply in picking out the 
 driest and least stony places on the shore. The chiefs of the two commissions, careful 
 about their comfort, employed themselves in the same way, and while looking 
 about darted terrible looks at each other — procellosi oculi — which revealed clearly 
 enough the nature of their thoughts. Each seemed to attribute to the other the 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 
 
 457 
 
 disagreeable incidents for which we were suffering in common. " With any other 
 men but your miserable cholos," said the countenance of the one, "my journey would 
 not have been retarded a moment." "Without your insatiate self-conceit and your 
 ridiculous collection of empty boxes," said the face of the other, " our journey would 
 have been continued without encumbrance." This pantomime, which drew my attcn 
 tion without diverting me, was continued the whole afternoon. In the evening, tired of 
 dumb show, the two chiefs began to apostrophize each other; piquant observations and 
 sharp words were exchanged like pistol-shots. At one moment I feared they would 
 call to their aid more decisive arguments, but I was reassured on remarking that the 
 
 BITE AND RIVER OF OHAPO. 
 
 more savagely they spoke the more careful they were to turn their backs on each other 
 at the right moment; from which I inferred that this Parthian manner of waging a war 
 of epigrams was not very likely to result in blows or the effusion of blood. At nightfall 
 our quarrelsome heroes went to camp at the opposite extremities of the shore. Not- 
 withstanding their friendly advances, I remained neutral, and established myself on 
 the confines of the two camps, like Punchinello between the devil and the priest. 
 
 Our people did not return till nightfall. Some bowls of mazato or chicha made of 
 manioc, which they had emptied in company with their good friends the savages, had 
 rather disturbed their brains and aggravated their natural insolence. The reflections 
 which they made, in a tone of voice which we could not fail to hear, clearly showed 
 their future intentions towards us. They spoke of nothing less than leaving us to 
 continue the journey alone, alleging as a pretext for their desertion, "that it was 
 ridiculous in them to risk their skins to please these foreign nobodies, 1 come they knew 
 
 1 Eslrangerotes. To the reader who might be inclined to think we have a sufficiently fertile imagination to invent 
 details of this kind, we would simply reply that they have been taken day after day, and hour after hour, out of our note- 
 book spread open before us while we write. 
 
 vol. i. 68 
 
458 PERU. 
 
 not whence:" — none of them seemed to recollect that they had not only been paid 
 double the ordinary charge for their labour, but that they had received the price in 
 advance. The conversation of these men being held in Spanish was unintelligible 
 to the savages; but with the eyes of the latter incessantly turned upon us, eyes that 
 looked foolish and curious rather than wicked, it was easy to guess that they knew the 
 purport of the discussion, and that, following the example of the cholos, they would not 
 hesitate to abandon us, while taking good care to keep our knives and axes as a 
 souvenir of our acquaintanceship. 
 
 In the evening the symptoms of mutiny became so alarming that the chiefs of the 
 united commission, recalled to their better selves by the imminence of the common 
 danger, met in council, and invited us personally to take part in it. The sitting hardly 
 lasted ten minutes — judges and assessors find themselves all of one mind. The result of 
 the deliberation was that each of us in turn was to do duty for two hours, in order 
 to prevent the mutineers from possessing themselves of the canoes. For their greater 
 safety I myself went and fastened them with ropes, to which I added a padlock. Two 
 or three cholos belonging to the most influential part of the band by their social 
 position at Cocabambillas, and who had remained faithful to us, lighted a great fire 
 by our order on the shore. At eight o'clock each of us draped himself like a Roman 
 in his cloak, and tried to sleep while awaiting his turn to mount guard. The 
 captain of the frigate, who bad suggested the arrangement, was willing to set the 
 example by taking the first turn of duty. Armed with a soldier's musket, which for 
 greater convenience he carried on his shoulder with the butt end in the air, I saw 
 him pacing the shore, where his figure stood out like a black shadow against the 
 starry heavens. His tall and bony figure, added to the bellicose air and regular 
 step which he adopted for the occasion, gave him an aspect so supernatural that I 
 regretted I had not the eyes of an owl to enable me to make a sketch of his person. 
 
 At four o'clock precisely a friendly hand disembarrassed me of my Roman drapery 
 and shook me roughly. My turn of duty had come. I rose, stumbled to my feet, 
 and went straight to the river to make my ablutions. When thoroughly refreshed I 
 made the tour of the encampment, not as a measure of security, as might be supposed, 
 but from love for the picturesque, to observe the attitudes, more or less classic, in 
 which our friends were reposing. The members and servants of the French commission, 
 gathered round their chief, slept like the blessed, some upon their backs with their 
 mouths open, others bent like a Z, with their knees against their chin. The chief 
 of the Peruvian expedition, following the example of his neighbour, was buried in a 
 happy sleep, which the snoring of our chaplain assisted rather than interrupted. A few 
 steps from these, near an expiring fire, the Antis, huddled up in their sacs, and showing 
 neither arms nor legs, looked like turtles protected by their shells. Our rebels were not 
 in the company. They were probably brewing their mazato in some quiet corner. 
 
 That landscape, half-drowned in the vapours of the dawn, bounded on one side by 
 the gray surface of the river, on the other by the sombre line of the forest; that sky, 
 whose stars paled like dying eyes as the night approached its end ; the whole ensemble 
 of mixed tints, of undecided lines and unfinished contours, constituted the sketch of a 
 
CHUL1TUQUI TO TUNKINI. 459 
 
 picture, rather than a picture itself, and left the eyes and the spirit to float in a 
 dreamlike spare. The bodies of our friends stretched pell-mell, dead in appearance, 
 but living in reality, added to the character of the scene a curious and almost super- 
 natural effect. For a moment I had the felicity of being the only moving figure to 
 animate the landscape, of going and coming in perfect liberty, of musing at my pleasure, 
 of dreaming as I listed, without a discordant sound to trouble my meditation or disturb 
 the creations of my phantasy. The increasing whiteness of the eastern horizon made 
 me sensible that this pleasure could not last. At that instant I regretted with all my 
 heart that I was not living in the time of the fairies, and that I had not had for a 
 godmother some Urganda or other. I should certainly have entreated her to adjourn 
 for a Aveek, by virtue of her magic wand, the rising of the sun, and especially the 
 awaking of my companions. 
 
 When the day had fairly broke, the savages stretched their heads out of their sacs, 
 passed their arms through the two lateral openings, and stretching their legs, were on 
 their feet at a bound, dressed, and ready to start. The united commissions took a little 
 more to awake up and repair the disorder of their toilet. At the moment of trans- 
 porting our baggage into the canoes, we discovered, with surprise and a little fear, that 
 the guns and haversacks of our escort had disappeared and with them a considerable 
 part of our provisions. As none of the rebels presented themselves on the shore, we 
 naturally attributed to them this double larceny, and concluded, that after having 
 committed it, they had fled. Each naturally asked himself, At what hour and in what 
 manner had this audacious theft been committed ? Considering the surveillance 
 exercised during the whole night, there was only one logical answer to this question, 
 that one of us, inexperienced in the duties of the watch, had slept on his post, and that 
 the rebels had profited by the opportunity to escape with their plunder. Our sentinels, 
 however, and myself last of all, being questioned in this respect, swore by all we held 
 sacred, that during the time of our watch, our eyes had remained as wide open as 
 louvre-windows. The chiefs of the two commissions, from the very fact that they 
 were not certain of having resisted sleep, spoke of nothing less than a court of inquiry 
 and the application of martial law to the delinquent. Our chaplain, Father Bobo, who 
 took the proposal seriously, begged them to do nothing of the kind, alleging piously 
 that if the cholos had fled after stealing our guns and provisions, it was because God, 
 who directs at his pleasure the actions of men, had willed it so and not otherwise. 
 
 Notwithstanding this Christian-like philosophy, or perhaps by reason of it, feeling 
 that the five cholos who remained faithful to lis might take it into their heads to join 
 our companions, and that there was no stronger reason to prevent the Antis flying also, 
 we resolved on a coup d'etat. We at once made a distribution of knives, fish-hooks, 
 and looking-glasses amongst the savages, who showed themselves, if not grateful, at 
 least delighted with these acquisitions. We then made the cholos draw up in line 
 upon the shore, and after a touching address, intended as a prologue to the drama that 
 was to follow, we asked them if they were willing to accompany us as far as Sarayacu, 
 the central mission of the plain of Sacramento, offering them, in that case, double their 
 salary, and recommending them afterwards to the generosity of the government. Upon 
 
400 PERU. 
 
 the cholos replying that they would follow us to the end of the world, supposing it had 
 an end, the chief of the Peruvian expedition signed to his lieutenant to approach, and 
 using his hack as a desk, wrote out the form of an oath, of which, by special recpiest, I 
 made a fair copy. It was then read to our people, who signified their approval by a 
 nod. Being requested to affix their signature at the bottom of this protestation, they 
 frankly confessed they were unable to write, and contented themselves by tracing 
 thereon, with an uncertain hand, the sign of salvation. The two chiefs having 
 legalized this important act by adding their names in full and their designation 
 surrounded with a handsome flourish, we were invited by them to take the pen and to 
 affix our signature also, which we did, but not without adorning the document with a 
 dozen blots. 
 
 As there may possibly be among my readers an ethnologist, a philologist, or some 
 one simply curious about the character of a document written by the captain of a frigate 
 on the back of his lieutenant, in the middle of a desert, and in circumstances so critical, 
 I subjoin an exact copy of it. It is hardly necessary to say, that I decline to take any 
 responsibility for faults of grammatical construction or feebleness of style with which 
 this historic document may be chargeable. 
 
 " To Antonio Salazar, 1 vecino de la mision de Cocabambillas en el valle de Santa-Aha, digo que me comprometo a 
 conducir & los senores . . . hasta Sarayacu, empleando con este objeto para que tengan un feliz viage, la posesion que he 
 adquirido de varios idiomas de os Chunchos y cuantos esfuerzos personates scan precisos en union de Jose Gabriel Anaya quien 
 asi misnio se ha comprometido para ayudarme, debo recibir de los seiiores , . . cualroeientos pesos en el mencionado lugar de 
 Sarayacu y a mas quedo obligado el comandante de la espedicion peruana de recomendarme al supremo gobierno paraque 
 recompensa mis sereicios y a su cumplimiento he prestado el juramento de la religion svbre los Santos Evangelios en las 
 sagradas manos del Reverendo . . ., firmando dos de un tenor en la playa de Coribeni." 
 
 It remained to give effect to this asseveration according to the formula indicated in 
 the act. Father Bobo took out of the green chest his alb, still wet with the last waves 
 of the rapids, and having put it on, put the stole round his neck, and suspended from 
 his arm the maniple, he took his breviary — not having a copy of the Holy Gospels— 
 and holding it open, the cholos approached, one after another, and placed their hand on 
 it, repeating after the chaplain an oath, which bound them so securely on the earth and 
 in the heavens that they could not perjure themselves without drawing down on their 
 heads the execration of men and the curse of God. 
 
 This ceremony finished, the reverend father took off his sacerdotal ornaments and 
 put them back into the box, which he instantly shut, to the great disgust of the savages, 
 who had approached, and supposing, from the old embroidery of gold on the stole and 
 maniple, that the chest contained a brilliant collection of objects in hardware and toys, 
 were pointing to it in a state of intense delight. 
 
 To this religious ceremony succeeded a scene of a less elevated character perhaps, 
 but one, on the other hand, that was more touching, and which the greater number of 
 us were far from expecting. Since the morning, or rather the evening before, it had 
 been agreed between the Count de la Blanche-Epine and his companions that one of 
 
 1 Tins form of asseveration was written in the name of Antonio Salazar, the most civilized of the cholos who remained 
 faithful to us. At his request we joiued to his name that of Jose Gabriel Anaya, his neighbour at Cocabanibillas, and his 
 intimate frieud. 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 
 
 4G1 
 
 them should return into the valley of Santa Ana, carrying with him the instruments of 
 
 observation and the baggage belonging to the French commission, the transport of 
 which had become impossible in consequence of the desertion of the balseros and some 
 of the rowers. The geographer, my companion in the canoe, had been charged with the 
 execution of this measure, and his downcast look bore witness that he had adopted 
 it under the compulsion of circumstances. His itinerary was traced out for him in 
 advance; he was to re-ascend the valley of Santa Aha, return to (Juzeo, and then take 
 the route overland by way of Audahuaylas and Pisco to Lima; arrived there, he was to 
 
 A SOLEMN OATH. 
 
 go by sea to Truxillo or Lambayec, then pass on to Jaen de Bracamoras, embark on 
 the Maranon and descend that river to its junction with the Ucayali, where the French 
 commission would await his arrival. It was a journey of at least 1800 miles. 
 
 These details were given me in a low voice by the poor young man while Ave took a 
 short turn on the shore together. The ostracism with which he was visited affected him 
 so deeply, that while speaking with me it Avas Avith difficulty he could restrain his tears. 
 I felt it right to rejdy to his confidence, that the measure adopted by the chief of the 
 expedition seemed to me a very strange one; that there were still five cholos and a 
 dozen of Antis to manoeuvre our craft, and that this number of men was sufficient to 
 reach Sarayacu. As to the instruments and the baggage of the commission, their 
 intrinsic or imaginary value Avas so small that I could not understand the necessity of 
 obliging a man to part from his companions, and to undertake alone a journey of 1800 
 miles, for the sake of preserving such objects. 
 
 The instruments Avhose fate Avas the cause of so much solicitude were represented 
 by an octant, a barometer, and some copper- plates of scientific subjects already 
 marbled with verdegris and rendered unserviceable by their frequent contact with the 
 stones and the damage occasioned by Avater. As to the baggage, it consisted of tAvo or 
 
462 PERU. 
 
 three boxes of insects, which had been continually wetted since our departure from 
 Chahuaris, and were half-rotten; of a quire of blotting-paper, transformed into a herbal, 
 and inclosing between its leaves seven or eight plants collected on the eastern flank 
 of the Cordillera, at the entrance of the valley of Santa Ana; and finally, of a little 
 bundle of notes in pencil, and a leathern trunk, some two feet square, belonging to 
 the geographer, and containing some shirts and stockings, a few collars, and a blue coat 
 with metal buttons. 
 
 Having run through the inventory of this collection of heterogeneous objects, which 
 a dealer might have valued at a couple of guineas, I suggested to my companion that 
 the difficulty of carrying such frippery, alleged by the chief of the expedition, seemed to 
 me nothing but a pretext to conceal his real motive. The young man having begged 
 me to explain further, I told him frankly that his honourable patron, judging of the 
 future by the present, and thoroughly persuaded that we should all perish on the 
 journey, either by the knives of the cholos or the arrows of the savages, had imagined 
 that by detaching one of his party from the rest and sending him by another road, 
 there was some chance of his arriving in France to announce to the Institute that 
 of that expedition, once so brilliant and glorious, there remained only a single man, 1 
 lame, perhaps, but bringing, like the Greek from Marathon, a palm in sign of victory. 
 My poor companion, without asking for any further explanation, went with a full heart 
 to prepare for his departure. 
 
 For his part, the chief of the Peruvian expedition had no sooner apprehended the 
 decision to which his rival had come, than, moved by that instinct of imitation common 
 to the majority of bipeds, he thought it his duty to do something similar. Perhaps 
 the idea of giving to his journey a little dramatic interest also inspired the thought. 
 Without loss of time he called the young Cabo, whom the desertion of his men had 
 rendered sad, and solemnly announced to him that the hour for their separation had 
 come. As he had neither a box of Coleopteras nor a book of blotting-paper, he gave 
 him a copy of the oath taken upon the shore, with an order to convey it to the prefect 
 of Cuzco, in order that that functionary might transmit it to his excellency the president. 
 "Tell him faithfully all that has passed," said he, "and add that we are here by the 
 will of the government, and that Ave will pursue the adventure until compelled to 
 abandon it by the arrows of the infidels ! " 
 
 The moment had come to abandon our companions to their fate. A canoe, managed 
 by two cholos, was assigned to them, and was to take them as far as Chahuaris. I 
 presented the geographer with a bottle of cacao-brandy, the only one in the possession 
 of the expedition, and which I had managed, not without difficulty, to subtract from the 
 perquisites of our people. To this little cadeau I added a handful of cigars; then, as I 
 shook him by the hand and exhorted him to patience, assuring him that before two 
 months were over we should meet again, he threw himself into my arms and between 
 two sobs uttered these words, the sense of which I have never understood to this hour: 
 
 1 We should have said tv:o; one of the number of that expedition having separated from it at Santa Cruz in the 
 Sierra, to continue his journey alone through the provinces of Bolivia. 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 
 
 4G3 
 
 "We have not sufficiently known each other: everything Ims tended to separate us; 1 
 believe, however, that we should have ended by loving one another." 
 
 Ten minutes afterwards we were en route. About three in the afternoon we arrived 
 at Sirialo. In the course of the twenty-four miles which separates this latter point from 
 Coribeni we had passed eleven rapids, and my canoe had been twice filled to the point 
 of sinking. Nor had my companions been better treated than myself by the frightful 
 river; our trunks and packing-cases, knocked about by the waves and thrown against 
 the rocks, Avere either forced open or broken, and their contents partly lost and partly 
 
 THE SEPARATION ON THE SHORE OP CORTBENI. 
 
 damaged. A glance at my book of rhumbs gave me the explanation of this disaster. 
 The direction of the river after passing Coribeni had continued between west-south-west 
 and west-north-west, so that it was evident we were sailing right on the Cordillera. 
 We might then have been about sixty-three miles from Chahuaris. 
 
 After the first moment of stupor we endeavoured to draw all the comfort possible 
 from the situation in which we were placed. Some collected sticks and made a fire 
 upon the shore. Others got together a quantity of reeds, Avhich we fixed in the ground 
 and joined together by their long leaves, so as to form a shelter against the dew. When 
 these huts were built, an operation which occupied half an hour, we seated ourselves 
 round the fire both to dry our clothes and to warm ourselves. A sorry distribution of 
 rations was made all round, and each having had his mouthful went to stretch himself 
 under the canopy of foliage which served as the top of a bed in the absence of the bed 
 itself. 
 
 An hour before daybreak, and while we were still in a profound sleep, the clouds 
 which had gathered during the night suddenly burst in a storm upon our roofs of 
 leaves, and made them bow down like the heads of ripe corn. Taught by experience in 
 my previous journeys through the valleys in the rainy season, I instantly doubled 
 
464 PERU. 
 
 myself up in such a fashion as to expose the nape of my neck and my hack to the 
 pelting of the storm, and thus awaited the end of the shower. My companions were 
 awoke by the rain, and in their dismay ran out on the shore crying like hawks, so 
 that in a few minutes they were drenched with rain whilst I remained very nearly 
 dry to the end. The storm lasted half the morning, when a brilliant sun scattered the 
 clouds and seemed to smile ironically on our misery. 
 
 Notwithstanding the hunger that we all felt after this prolonged bath, none spoke 
 of dining. In the first place, the idea would have been absurd, seeing that our provisions, 
 diluted by the rain, were transformed into streams, and streams, as we know, are 
 tributaries to rivers. But besides this, something more serious than the claims of the 
 stomach demanded our immediate attention. The cascades of Sirialo, Avhich we could 
 not yet see, but the roar of which was audible, were at hand like voracious dragons to 
 swallow us on our passage, and the fear excited by their near neighbourhood was 
 great enough to make the pangs of hunger of very secondary importance. 
 
 Without losing more time in shaking ourselves than spaniels who had just left 
 the water, we were seated in our canoes, which a rapid current bore quickly to the 
 scene of danger. At this place the river had a formidable aspect: a double belt of 
 rocks with a space between them stretched across the bed of the river, and caused 
 two cascades from seven to eight feet in height, above and below which were rapids 
 white with foam. Like timid birds our vessels approached the shore; we sprang 
 out and made the transit on foot, while the canoes and rafts, guided by lianas held 
 by our rowers, who were naked and plunged into the water up to their waists, 
 accomplished the perilous passage. These incidents, which we have related in four 
 lines, cost our people two hours of labour, compelled as they were to discharge 
 cargo and reload the vessels in order to prevent them sinking, and this it was needful to 
 do more than once, in order to avoid the fatigue of carrying the lading from place to 
 place along the shore. 
 
 Between one and two miles from Sirialo we had to shoot the two rapids of 
 Saruantariqui and of Imiricpii, fraternally united the one to the other, notwithstanding 
 that the limits of each were apparently marked by great black rocks like the Celtic 
 men-Mr. Those of our companions who succeeded in passing the first rapid without 
 accident had to pay toll at the second — or, to speak plainly, were soaked like sjionges in 
 passing it. 
 
 A little damped outside by contact with the waves, a little cooled within by the 
 want of nourishment, we arrived in sight of a pleasant rustic spot, where the work 
 of man had effaced the work of nature, and produced cotton, and sugar, and pine- 
 apples in place of the tangled underwood of the wilderness. Our pilots, without 
 an order from lis, drew to the bank at this spot. The place, called Polohuatini, 
 was one of those clearings made by the Indians round their dwellings, where they 
 cultivate a little cotton for the manufacture of their garments and wallets, a little 
 rocou and genipahua for supplying them with colours, and some patches of sugar- 
 cane, yuccas, arachis (a species of earth-pea or underground nut), and pine-apples 
 for food. The plantation, provided with a dwelling, belonged to an Antis Indian 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 
 
 465 
 
 wlio was absent during the quarter of an hour that we stayed, and whose name I 
 regret not having inquired. Out of respect for the property of another, not unmingled 
 with a little fear perhaps of an arrow winged from an invisible bow, my companions 
 and myself walked through the alleys of this plantation admiring its fruits, ripe or 
 green, but without daring to lift our hand to them. The Antis convinced us that 
 our fears and our scruples were groundless, by audaciously cutting down the sugar- 
 canes, and helping themselves to some of the pine-apples. Encouraged by their 
 example, and certain of impunity, we plied our knives so well that after a quarter 
 
 AN INDIAN CLEARING AND HUT AT POLOHUATINI. 
 
 of an hour of this exercise it might have been thought a cloud of locusts had visited 
 this plantation. Throwing some armfuls of sugar-canes into the canoes we immediately 
 pushed into the stream. If any one looking from a point of advantage could have 
 seen us, great and small, red-skins and white-skins, savage and civilized, rowing with 
 the current, each sucking the end of a cane, we might have been taken for Arcadian 
 shepherds floating down the stream to the sound of their flutes. 
 
 This razzia of the Antis upon the property of one of their brothers, apart from 
 its picturesque aspect, philosophically substantiates the system once so enthusiastically 
 promulgated by M. Proudhon. Without knowing it, that distinguished philanthropist 
 agreed marvellously well with our unsophisticated savages. In their eyes also, la 
 proprititS e'est le vol. 
 
 At five o'clock, after taking counsel with our pilots, we went ashore at Sangobatea 
 to pass the night. This place, though quite a desert, should, according to the Antis, 
 offer us some resources in the shape of food, which the poverty of our larder and the 
 craving of our stomachs had rendered doubly precious. In fact we had hardly selected 
 a convenient place for camping, when seven or eight savages, clothed in loose sacs, 
 with dishevelled hair, and their faces suitably daubed with red and black, started out 
 
 59 
 
466 PERU. 
 
 from among the trees like little demons in the toys known as jack-in-the-box, and 
 began to fraternize with our rowers like old acquaintances. A conversation in a low 
 tone took place between them. From the stealthy manner in which the new-comers 
 looked at us every now and then, it was easy to guess that they were inquiring of their 
 comrades who we were, whence we came, where we were going, and whether our inten- 
 tions were pacific. The information given to them seemed to be satisfactoiy, as they 
 soon had the courage to come and feel the stuff of our clothing, while addressing us 
 with a friendly but rather idiotic smile, which appears common to the majority of the 
 castes of red-skins, as our observations have confirmed. These Antis inhabit the 
 interior of the little quebrada of Sangobatea, upon the two shores of the river of that 
 name, the embouchure of which was visible a few yards from our encampment. The 
 bow and arrows, barbed or provided with a fish-hook of bone, which they held in their 
 hand, showed that they formed a fishing party. None of them, however, had any fish to 
 sell or to offer us. Three dogs with pointed ears, of the kind upon which I had made 
 a scientific experiment at Chahuaris, accompanied them. Two of these animals were 
 of a blue colour, from the muzzle to the very end of their tails. The third was of a 
 purple tint, and had assumed, along with that royal colour, an air of singular 
 ferocity. I saw at a glance that the first two had been stained with false-indigo, 1 and 
 that the colour of the third was derived from the achiote or rocou." This custom of 
 clothing their dogs in a brilliant livery is very general among the savage castes of Peru. 
 
 The purple dog, attracted by I know not what emanation from my person, hung 
 about in a restless manner, and seemed to have a particular fancy for smelling my 
 calves. I tried to put an end to his olfactory investigation by giving him a cut with a 
 switch. But this hostile demonstration troubled him so little, that instead of flying- 
 he looked at me fixedly and began to wag his tail. " This dog," I said to myself, 
 "appears to be gifted with a good deal of natural kindliness, or else he has been beaten 
 so often that a stick has no terrors for him." Nevertheless, as he returned to the charge, 
 I signed to his master to relieve me of his company. The Indian stooped down, took 
 the animal by the tail, and threw him over his shoulder to a distance of several yards. 
 The thing was done so neatly and with such natural grace that I was struck with 
 wonder. The purple dog, who had fallen upon his belly, sprang to his feet and ran off 
 howling most lamentably, the effect of which was to make his two indigo-coloured 
 companions hasten after him. 
 
 This episode, if it had fixed our attention, had not satisfied our appetites, and we 
 had still to find the means of making some kind of repast, when one of our rowers who 
 had rambled along the shore struck with his dart two fishes of very considerable size, 
 which he presented to us. These fish, so far as we could judge at a glance, belonged 
 to the sturgeon family. From my regard for ichthyology and the great name of M. 
 Valenciennes, I would have examined them at leisure, but time did not permit. They 
 were instantly opened, washed, and cut into pieces, which were thrown into a pot with 
 
 1 Pseudo-anil {Indigofera). The indigo plant is the anyl of the Arabs. The Indian species belongs to the same 
 genus as the American. Its distinguishing name is the Indigofera tinctoria. — Tr. 
 
 2 Bixa Orellana: the pigment is prepared from the red pulpy matter which .surrounds the seeds. — Tr. 
 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 
 
 467 
 
 green bananas and yucca-roots, which the natives of Sangobatea sold to us for the 
 trifling sum of six copper buttons bearing the arms of Peru. After supper we prepared 
 our humble couch on the ground, and as the shore did not present any description of 
 reed fit for the construction of an ajoupa, we trusted to Providence to preserve us from 
 the pernicious influence of the dew. 
 
 Our new friends, who had retired at nightfall, returned at daybreak accompanied 
 by their wives. These ladies were loaded with provisions, which made their visit 
 doubly agreeable. In exchange for some trifling articles of toy -ware we obtained 
 
 SHORE OP SANGOBATEA, COUNTRY OF THE ANTIS. 
 
 fowls, eggs, bananas, and the dried flesh of the vache d'Anta (tapir). This exchange 
 being effected to the satisfaction of both parties, we looked about us and could not 
 resist a smile. Men and women alike had evidently made a careful toilet on our 
 account. The faces of the men were freshly daubed with red and black; the plate of 
 silver suspended to their nostrils had been polished up; the women displayed an 
 incredible profusion of necklaces and bracelets made of seeds, drupes, and kernels of 
 fruits strung on a thread. Some, more fashionably dressed than others, wearing like 
 a shoulder-knot a dozen skins of birds of brilliant colours, 1 or a bunch of tapir's claws 
 which made a rattling noise when they moved, which reminded one of the crotalum 
 (a kind of tambour played by the priests of Cybele) or of the rattlesnake. The women 
 and young girls had their hair cut square across their foreheads level with their eyes, 
 and floating loose behind. The sac which enveloped them in its large folds prevented 
 us from forming an opinion of their figures. A little girl of ten or eleven, whose 
 beautifully-formed neck and graceful limbs might be compared with the Salmacis of 
 
 1 The birds whose plumage is used by these indigenes for their parure are the Tangara septicolor, Cotinga pompadour, 
 toucan a collier, cacique a iete d'or, ramphocile a bec t£ argent, cuck-of-the-rock (Tunii peruvianus), and two or three Sylviada, 
 or warblers, of lively coluurs. 
 
468 
 
 PERU. 
 
 the sculptor Bosio, clung timid and smiling to the arm of one of her companions. 
 Her only clothing consisted of two pods of vanilla strung on a bit of bark and hung 
 round her neck. 
 
 Without losing tjme in the preparation of a meal, we prepared to depart. At the 
 
 HUITOOH (GENIPA AMERICANA). 
 
 moment when we were about to push into the stream, four Antis of Sangobatea showed 
 their willingness to join our rowers, and assist us in the descent of some dangerous 
 rapids that we should have to encounter. Such a reinforcement could not be otherwise 
 than agreeable to us; we therefore accepted the offer, and by way of acknowledgment 
 presented our friends with some knives and fish-hooks, which at once won their hearts. 
 Two of them took a place in our canoes, and the third squatted on one of the rafts. As 
 for the fourth, he went to fetch from a little creek where it was concealed a small canoe 
 of his own, in which he seated himself, accompanied by one of the ladies of the band 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 4G9 
 
 and the little girl in the vanilla costume. We soon discovered that the first, about 
 eighteen years of age, and the second, whom we had taken for a child, were both the 
 wives of this lucky fellow. 
 
 At our first halting-place I tried to learn something about this Indian, whose 
 youth and mobility of countenance, but above all his daring and presence of mind 
 in the dangerous passages we traversed, much interested me. The pilot of my canoe, 
 an Antis of Coribeni who spoke a little Quichua, had known him previously, and was 
 able to give me the information I desired. His name was Simuco, and he lived 
 with his brother in the little quebrada of Chiruntia, which we had passed by the 
 day before. During a ramble along the river-side in company with his brother, 
 Simuco had been hospitably received by an Antis of the quebrada of Conversiato, 
 whose family, including the old people, consisted of ten persons; among the number of 
 
 
 SIMUCO, AN ANTIS INDIAN OF CHIRUNTIA. 
 
 the children was our Salmacis, the little girl with the vanilla necklace. Charmed 
 with her natural grace, Simuco proposed to the father to give him in exchange for 
 her an old hatchet which had been presented to him by the missionaries of Coca- 
 bambillas. 1 The father of the girl accepted the offer, but when he had received the 
 hatchet, considering it a very poor one, he declined to complete the bargain, and 
 kept both hatchet and child. A similar case in Europe would have been referred 
 to the mediation of an arbitrator or to the legal tribunals, but it is not in this way 
 that differences of opinion are settled at Conversiato. Simuco and his brother, 
 without even taking the trouble to remonstrate with their host on his breach of faith, 
 took a brand from the hearth and set fire to the cabin. One-half of the family being 
 
 1 These Iudiaus are always more willing to part with a child than with an article which they might have some 
 difficulty in procuring, ami they do not scruple to express themselves accordingly in the most direct language at their 
 command. During the journey a Conibo Indian of Paruitcha, of whom the author proposed to buy his mosquito 
 curtain, to avoid the trouble of making one, replied through the cholo who had been commissioned to negotiate this 
 business, that he would willingly sell him one of his children, because he could supply its place when he pleased, whilst, on 
 the other hand, before he could procure sufficient cotton for a musquito curtain, and his wife could find time to 
 spin and weave it, he might be devoured any number of times (panta china) by the musquitoes. 
 
470 PERU. 
 
 burned, they shot the others with arrows, seized their hatchet, and triumphantly carried 
 off the girl, whom Simuco made his wife in addition to the one he had already. 
 
 This splendid feat of arms, worthy of the age when the Romans carried off the 
 Sabines, raised Simuco to the rank of an epic hero. With a view of gratifying my 
 readers with a portrait of this illustrious youth, I begged him to stand for me a 
 few minutes, and he complied with the best grace in the world. I showed my 
 appreciation of his good nature by making him a present of four little bells, which 
 he immediately divided between his odalisques, who after ringing them for some 
 time by way of amusement, attached them to one of their seed-necklaces. 
 
 Continuing our course we passed on our right the little rivers of Santuatu and 
 Casungatiari, which we should hardly have noticed if the rapids at their embouchure, 
 which bore the same name as themselves, had not given them some degree of relative 
 importance. In the first of these rapids one of our canoes was filled by the waves; 
 in the second, some boxes carelessly loaded on the rafts slipped off and disappeared 
 in the river. 
 
 The cascade of Camunsianari, which we descended a little more rapidly than 
 we could have desired, procured us the advantage of adding a complete bath to 
 the partial douches of the day. At Cominpini, an unknown point of the desert, 
 but remarkable for a succession of frightful rapids whose waves mingled together, 
 rolled over each other, and whirled about as if they had been made to boil by a 
 blazing furnace beneath, the Antis Simuco, who had attached his canoe to a raft 
 manned by his brother, and was standing up holding by its side to assist if necessary, 
 executed before our eyes a veritable tour de force. At the moment when the raft, 
 towing the canoe with the two women seated in it, passed between the rocks, the 
 sharp eye of the savage discovered in the midst of the tumultuous waves a sabalo 
 or shad {Salmo andensis), which was mounting the current. Stooping down he seized 
 his bow, placed an arrow in it, aimed at the fish, and pierced it through and through, 
 and all this with such rapidity that had it been night the whole action would have 
 been visible in the gleam of a single flash of lightning. If the danger that surrounded 
 us had not counselled prudence, I could have sprung to my feet, clapped my hands, 
 and cried "Encore," so superb was the Indian in artistic verve and activity of movement, 
 with his hair streaming in the Avind, his sac inflated by the rapidity of the course 
 down the rapid, and flapping in the air behind him. Some minutes afterwards we 
 reached a gentler slope, the canoes and rafts slackened their speed, and the sabalo 
 which we had seen from a distance floating like a buoy, with the arrow struck through 
 its body, came near enough for Simuco to secure, who gave it to his wives to make a 
 bouillabaisse. 
 
 Hardly had we escaped the rapids of Cominpini than our little craft rushed 
 down those of Quitini, where again we were well splashed by the waves. Though 
 it was hardly four o'clock in the afternoon the day had been such an arduous one — 
 five cascades and sixteen rapids that we had descended had so fatigued our men — 
 that a halt was resolved upon. We went ashore at Quitini as thoroughly drenched 
 as our baggage. The shore, here strewn with blocks of sandstone of every possible 
 
CHUL1TUQUI TO TUNKINI. 
 
 471 
 
 configuration, from that of the cube to the polyhedron, offered few conveniences for 
 an encampment, yet none of us thought of making this the subject of remark. During 
 the seven days that we had been travelling we had had nothing but stones for a 
 mattress, and we were beginning to feel accustomed to their hardness. As in all other 
 things, the first step is the greatest difficulty. Some of us who at the beginning of the 
 journey would have cried out like Sybarites that they were hurt by so much as a 
 crumpled rose leaf in the bed-clothes, slept quite comfortably now with six stones for a 
 mattress and the hard rock for a pillow. 
 
 THE SHORE AT QUITINI, ANTIS COUNTRT. 
 
 Hardly had we disembarked upon the shore of Quitini, than we were visited by 
 a number of Antis armed with bows and arrows, and followed by speckled dogs. 
 These natives dwelt further in the interior, on the shore of the little river of Quitini, 
 which debouched m the larger stream about a hundred paces from where we stood. 
 They had come here to inquire about the welfare of an Antis couple, their friends, 
 the woman having been recently confined. The hut in which they lived was concealed 
 behind the trees which bounded the shore, but we remembered having seen its thatched 
 roof. Our visitors, so they told us, had business-relations with the inhabitants of the 
 valleys of Huarancalqui and Yanama, which Avere near neighbours of that of Santa 
 Aha. A short distance in a straight line separated the village of Echarati from the 
 sources of the river of Quitini, which emptied itself by three branches into the Quilla- 
 bamba Santa Ana. Thus it would only have been necessary to make a road, eighteen 
 miles long, over the Urusayhua mountain, for the inhabitants of Echarati to have placed 
 themselves in direct communication with the Antis of Quitini, whilst the road by which 
 we had come was a navigation of about 126 miles, including fourteen cascades and 
 sixty-eight rapids, so that it was two to one if a traveller between the two places ever 
 arrived at the end of the journey. 
 
472 PERU. 
 
 However instructive and varied might be the conversation of the new-comers, the 
 cravings of our stomachs prevented us from giving more than a very divided attention 
 to them. On gathering together the remains of the previous evening's repast, we were 
 dismayed to find that it would be insufficient to satisfy the mouths already gaping 
 around us. Happily these very Antis, on whom hunger had made us turn our backs, 
 thinking they had nothing to offer us in the shape of food but their geographical dis- 
 sertations, kept in reserve under a shrub, the ordinary larder of a savage on the tramp, 
 some small bunches 1 of bananas and a quarter of smoked peccary, which they willingly 
 let us have in exchange for a pocket looking-glass. When they had seen us seated 
 in a circle, each commission apart, in evidence of the cordial understanding between 
 them, they took their departure, first having received our promise to visit their happy 
 friends on the morrow before our departure, and congratulate the Antis on the felicitous 
 addition to his family. 
 
 After sleeping for eight hours, and while our eyes were still closed, notwithstand- 
 ing that Aurora, according to the expression of Shakspeare, had drawn aside her 
 saffron curtains, we were suddenly awoke by a noise of voices and laughter. Since 
 our departure from Chahuaris we had slept with our clothes on, so that our toilet was 
 soon made. At a bound we were on our feet and ready to receive our visitors, in 
 whom we recognized our worthy purveyors of the evening before. The Antis couple 
 were with them. Sensible of the convpliment we had intended to pay them, they had 
 desired to save us the trouble of making the call by coining to us, bringing the newly- 
 born infant with them. The savage little cherub was nearly as black as night, 
 somewhat homely in her appearance, and not much improved by the faces she made; 
 nevertheless, out of regard for her father and mother, who seemed to devour her 
 with their eyes, we all expressed our admiration of her pretty face and genteel figure. 
 "Quel monstrico!" said the assistant-naturalist to me in an undertone, while trying to 
 attract the baby's attention by his enticing gesticulations. By the delighted smile 
 which illumined the faces of the father and mother — their heads were shaved close, 
 on the occasion of the birth of their first child — I concluded that the flattery which 
 is addressed to the heart is understood in all languages alike. 
 
 At the sight of this wretched little mortal, born the evening before, and who, not- 
 withstanding the weakness of her sex, howled with the vigour of a boy of three months 
 old, our chaplain, Father Bobo, was seized with a desire of snatching her young soul 
 from the claws of Satan, and of placing her by the help of baptism under the safeguard 
 of God and the church. The chief of the Peruvian expedition offered to stand god- 
 father, and proposed that his lieutenant should serve as godmother, a substitution to 
 which the latter was quite agreeable. The reverend father took out of the green box 
 his sacerdotal ornaments, to which the heat and moisture combined had given a rather 
 mouldy appearance, and having aired them for an instant put them on, sprinkled the 
 infant, gave her the Christian name of Juana-Francisca, and pronounced over her 
 the customary prayers. At the end of the service, in default of the usual assortment 
 
 1 The entire cluster of the banana fruit is called a regime; the French patte, here translated small bunch, is one of its 
 divisions. It is to the regime what the twig is to the branch, or the grappillon to the cluster. 
 
CHULITIJQUI TO TUNKINI. 
 
 470 
 
 of gloves, fans, and essences to present to the happy mother, the godfather gave her, 
 gallantly wrapped up in an old newspaper, a cotton pocket-handkerchief printed in a 
 square pattern, a winding-reel, and a little knife with a horn handle. The jolly god- 
 mother, with the consent of his captain and con/rhr, presented the father with a new 
 hatchet. A general distribution of buttons, little bells, and fish-hooks among the rest 
 of the company took the place of the usual christening sweets. We then left, followed 
 by the good wishes and blessings of the entire band. 
 
 The good wishes and blessings of these honest people, which we thought should 
 have averted from us the perils of the journey, seeing that the prayer of innocence is 
 
 A CHRISTENING BY THE KIVER BIDE AT QDITINL 
 
 always acceptable to God, did not prevent us from getting up to our knees in water in 
 the rapids of Capiniari, and from being completely drenched in the cascade of Biricanani. 
 We were compensated for these successive douches, however, by the charm of the 
 locality we were now passing, and where for half an hour we enjoyed entire security. 
 At this place, called Biricanani, from the name of the roaring cataract by which it was 
 approached, the river seemed to sleep between the great perpendicular walls of basalt 
 which formed salient and re-entering angles along the shores. These basaltic walls 
 were crowned by beautiful masses of vegetation, which the water reflected with singular 
 clearness. Here no breath of air ruffled the calm surface of the river, incessantly 
 furrowed by white gulls, the first we had seen. The absence of every natural sound 
 added to the magic of this scene. Sensible of the beauty of the situation, which they 
 instinctively enjoyed, the savages had laid up their oars, and with arms folded looked 
 around them. Chir vessels, left to themselves, moved with the stream almost imper- 
 ceptibly. I profited by the opportunity to take two casts of the lead. The first 
 marked seventeen fathoms, the second twenty-nine, proving a great inequality in the bed 
 of the remanso, as I have elsewhere said these calm waters are called. 
 
 60 
 
474 
 
 PERU. 
 
 Unfortunately nothing is stable in this world, and the most beautiful things are 
 precisely those which are the least enduring, as the illustrious Malherbe has observed 
 in his letter to du Perrier. The assistant-naturalist, who till now had been contented 
 to admire in the silence like the rest of us, conceived the unhappy idea of treating us 
 to a little music, and without troubling himself to inquire if it were agreeable or not, 
 gave in ear-splitting tones the lyric recitative of Mergy in the Pre aux Clercs: — 
 
 Ce soir, j'arrive done dans cette ville immense, 
 Qui m'a ravi tout mon bonheur. 
 
 
 
 THE CALM WATERS OF BIRICANANI. 
 
 I can with difficulty describe the effect produced by this strange couplet, suddenly 
 intoned in the silence. It was like a tempest of noise let loose in the air. The sound- 
 wave, striking from side to side against the double walls of assault, was engulfed in 
 their cavities, or, breaking against their angles, went roaring through the whole extent 
 of the remanso. For a moment I thought these antique walls, like those of Jericho, 
 might come crashing down on our heads and bury us under their ruins. At the sound, 
 magnified and multiplied a hundred-fold by the acoustic arrangement of the place, if 
 the still current itself did not shrink back affrighted as from the marine monster 
 described by Eacine, the white gulls, which had escorted us so gracefully, and skimmed 
 the air around us without fear, fled with every sign of terror. Farewell the calm and 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 475 
 
 poetic harmony of the landscape! The charm was broken. Each of the company in 
 turn, as if ashamed of his silent admiration, added his exclamation or his phrase to 
 the echo of Biricanani, which, since the formation of the American continent, had 
 never repeated such absurdities, nor reproduced such discordances. Even the savages 
 abandoned themselves to the delirium tremens with which the two commissions appeared 
 to be affected, and not finding in their memory any melodious phrase to confide to the 
 air, beat the river with their paddles, and, laughing, splashed the water in each other's 
 faces. 
 
 This scandalous conduct, little worthy of an expedition of savants, received due 
 chastisement at the cataract of Huantini, a short distance from Biricanani. One of our 
 canoes filled with water, another struck on the rocks with such violence that the pilot 
 who guided it, seated in the after-part of the boat, was tumbled into the river. Having 
 myself observed this incident, I had scarcely given the alarm when the head of the 
 shipwrecked man appeared above the waters. Our craft were always emulous to outdo 
 each other. With a few strokes the Antis was able to overtake his own, and the manner 
 in which he then proceeded to get on board proved that the danger he had run had not 
 in the slightest degree deprived him of his self-possession. Instead of clutching des- 
 perately at the side of the canoe, and of bearing with all his weight upon it in order to 
 climb up, as one of ourselves less self-possessed would certainly have done, the Indian, 
 knowing well that any attempt of this kind would only upset the frail boat, seized it 
 with one hand only, so as to support himself without weighing upon it, until he could 
 get in at the stern, where the weight of his body would cause no inconvenience. 
 
 Between one and two miles from this spot we passed on our left the little river of 
 Conversiato, which witnessed the feat of arms of the Indian Simuco. I cannot say if 
 the child-wife of the savage felt any tender emotion on passing in sight of the quebrada 
 which had been her birth-place, and dropped a tear to the memory of her relations so 
 cruelly murdered by her husband and brother-in-law, and whose bones even yet re- 
 mained unbnried; but I have every reason to believe, knowing the mobility of spirit 
 of her sex — I am speaking of savages— that she did not even dream of them. Less 
 oblivious than she, I bestowed a moment's thought on Conversiato, by noting in my 
 journal that the river of that name, some twenty paces broad at its embouchure, and 
 which apparently flows in a direction west -south -west, has its source, like the neigh- 
 bouring rivers of Quitini and Cuchini, in the lower eastern flanks of the central 
 Cordillera; that its shores also, like those, are inhabited by the Antis Indians, and 
 that it waters, like them, the valleys of Yanama and Huarancalqui. 
 
 Having passed these points, we floated into the still waters of Canari, inclosed, 
 like the remanso of Biricanani, between walls of basalt, alternating with formations 
 of freestone. Both alike were crowned with rich tufts of foliage, which the water, 
 here of an aqua -marine tint, reflected so distinctly, that a second landscape, the 
 coimterpart of the first, was unrolled beneath our boats, which seemed to float in 
 the void between them. The approximation of the mineral walls, had endowed the 
 echo of the locality with a sensitiveness approaching to irritability. The noise of 
 the paddle, the suash of the water, the least word spoken in a low voice, were 
 
47(3 
 
 PERU. 
 
 reproduced with surprising quickness, and with a power of organ of which we could 
 never have believed the poor nymph was capable, who, as the story runs, bewailed 
 the beautiful Narcissus until nothing was left of her but her breath. Large brown 
 ducks, white gulls, black swallows with a white breast and long forked tail, the 
 habitual companions of this echo of Canari, swam upon the still waters, or gently 
 brushed the surface with a stroke of their wings. I cast the lead twice, and found 
 that it marked thirteen and eighteen fathoms. 
 
 In the course of a league we passed only a single rapid, a prodigy which filled 
 
 THE KEJIANSOS, OB QUIET BOOKS OF THE RIVEE, AT CANAKI. 
 
 us with wonder. While Ave were reflecting on this singular fact, the little river of 
 Chigalosigri was seen cutting the beach on our right, It is probable that we should 
 have passed this spot with no further notice than a simple geographical record in our 
 diary and book of rhumbs (a reckoning taken by means of the compass of its apparent 
 direction), if our attention had not been arrested by a fresh and charming detail, which 
 won for the place one of our most gracious smiles, as it has also secured for it a 
 pictorial illustration framed in our descriptive prose. Just at the entrance of the 
 river, which was scarcely more than ten steps across, and in the greenish half-light 
 formed by the luxuriant foliage of its shores, there appeared a raft, on board of which 
 were three Antis. One might have supposed it had been placed there for the express 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 
 
 477 
 
 purpose of delighting ;i painter of water-colour. Upon this raft, very clumsily 
 constructed, two of the savages were squatted; one of them in the foreground, and 
 with his arms crossed, gazed open-mouthed at the swallows; the second, a little behind, 
 caressed a large black ape — the Ateles niger of naturalists — or what is more probable, 
 was suffering himself to be relieved by the animal of the hosts of parasites established 
 
 -^c/VOS!-, 
 
 ANTIS INDIANS ON A BAFT AT CHIG ALOSIGEI. 
 
 in his hair. The third savage, standing up, Avith a bow and arrows in his hand, 
 dominated the composition, the spaces in which were filled with bunches of bananas, 
 sweet cucumbers (Coloquintirfa), custard-apples (Anona), and a few fish laid upon 
 leaves of the Heliconia. I had almost forgotten an ingenious kind of perch, 
 formed of three sticks tied together like a tripod, and provided with a few cross 
 sticks, upon which were quietly perched a crax or curassow bird, two macaws, and two 
 toucans, which their superlative beaks, so like to certain noses of our acquaintance, 
 
478 PERU. 
 
 recommended even more strongly than their plumage to the attention of cari- 
 caturists. 
 
 A few minutes sufficed to open a conversation with these natives, and to purchase 
 from them the living animals, as well as the fish and fruits, that were on the raft. 
 I do not know exactly what passed between them and our people, nor what information 
 they received about us; but from the result of the conference, it was easy to judge that 
 the pilots and the Indian rowers had said all that was kind in our behalf. These 
 strangers loosed their raft from the shore where it had been tied, and joined convoy 
 with us without troubling themselves about the dangers of the journey. 
 
 We passed in their company the cataract of Chigalosiato, where the canoe of 
 the chief of the Peruvian commission was half - submerged by the waves; that of 
 Tinsani, where mine struck against the rock and was almost wrecked; and then in 
 succession those of Quiempini, Camasiqui, Chicantoni, Cominconi, and Talancata, 
 where each of our companions had to undergo the rough buffeting of the waves, to 
 say nothing of their occasional losses. On casting my eyes over my note-book, I find 
 under date of this unlucky day, and in the space of fifteen miles which separates 
 Chigalosigri from Manugali, these words repeated every third line — "my canoe is 
 filled" — "his canoe was nearly sunk" — "their raft was submerged." At this distance 
 of time these pencilled notes make but a slight impression, and cause me to smile and 
 dream; but at the time they were written, my hand trembled a little, if I may judge by 
 the almost illegible style in which they are written. 
 
 After passing on our right two unimportant streams, called respectively Pamocuato 
 and Tanaquiato, we arrived, Avet and hungry, at Manugali. Although the sun was 
 still high above the horizon, we disembarked at this place with the intention of finishing 
 the day there. Our canoes and rafts were made fast to the trees on the shore. Guided 
 by the Antis we penetrated behind a curtain of verdure, which Ave at first took for 
 the edge of the forest, but which in fact was only a trick to deceive strangers, 1 and 
 perceived, in the midst of a plantation of maize, arnotto, pimento, manioc, and sugar- 
 canes, two ajoupas, towards which Ave directed our steps. 
 
 These ajoupas, furnished with the utensils and other things necessary to savage life, 
 Avere for the moment deserted. From the still warm ashes of the hearth, and the 
 pitchers and pots scattered on the ground, Ave guessed that the inmates Avere not far 
 distant, and Avere likely to return at any instant. NotAvithstanding their knowledge of 
 this fact, or perhaps because of it, our Antis ferreted in every corner, and helped 
 themselves to whatever suited their convenience. One possessed himself of a still fresh 
 tapir's skin which had been stretched to dry over tAvo crossed sticks, another appro- 
 
 1 The Antis, and, following their example, many other savage nations with which we shall by-and-by make acquaint- 
 ance, erect their dwellings in the quebradas or gorges which open to the great river, rather than on the shores of the 
 latter, and this to prevent their huts and plantations from being visited and pillaged by other savages who are out hunting 
 or fishiug on the shores of the river. When, however, they decide to build their dwelling on the shore of one of these 
 great water-courses, they are careful to mask it by means of a curtain of trees or lianas ; that is to say, leaving the vege- 
 tation of the shore as it came from the hands of nature, they make their clearing some twenty, fifty, or a hundred paces in 
 the interior of the forest. A European navigatiug the river would never suspect that a hut and an Indian plantation 
 existed within a few steps of him ; and the savages themselves, unless they belong to the same people as the proprietor, and 
 know of his residence, are sometimes deceived. 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 
 
 479 
 
 priated a bundle of the flowering stems of the giant arundo, used' for making arrows. 
 Here, one turned out of the wallet in which they were kept the kernels of the arnotto 
 and fruit of the genipahua, used as pigments for painting the face; there, another 
 liberally provided himself with those fyried peppers called quitun-quitun, which are 
 cultivated by the hacienderos of the valleys of Peru. 1 
 
 While helping themselves to these various articles, our people preserved so tranquil 
 a manner, seemed so thoroughly self-possessed, and treated the property they were 
 appropriating so entirely like a thing to which they had an indisputable right, that, 
 
 ms® 
 
 AJOUPAS (STRAW-ROOFS) OP MANUQALI. 
 
 f$ I b Vr 
 
 encouraged by their example, and concluding that if they had no very sufficient reason 
 for acting as they did, neither were they perhaps altogether in the wrong, we in our 
 turn selected a few things, taking care to excuse ourselves by calling to mind the 
 demands of science. When there was nothing more to take we lighted a fire, filled a 
 pot with water, and threw into it, with a certain number of bananas and yucca-roots 
 and a little pepper and salt, the fish that we had bought of the Indians of Chigalosigri. 
 While this court-bouillon was in process of cooking, the proprietor of the ajoupas 
 arrived, followed by his wife and child, a young scamp of about a dozen years of age, 
 economically dressed in his natural buff. If the Indian was disagreeably surprised to find 
 under his roof a score of people of various colours and nationalities — if, with that coup- 
 d'osil of the savage which sees everything, while appearing to see nothing, he observed 
 that his place had been pillaged — I must say in his praise, that not only did he let 
 
 1 The markets of the great cities are supplied with this variety of pepper, which is so strong as to have given rise to 
 the local saying: Faltale un grado para ser veneno, "It is within a very little of being a poison." This pretended poison is 
 highly esteemed by the indigenes, and more especially by the fair sex. We remember having seen, in the summer-baths 
 in the valley of Arequipa, a girl of twelve, belonging to one of the first families of the city, eat greedily while fasting — as 
 a child of her age might have eaten sugar-plums and almonds — a handful of these fiery peppers, the very smell of which 
 would have made a European sneeze and shed tears. 
 
480 
 
 PERU. 
 
 nothing of this appear, but that he smiled on all around him, and pushed his magna- 
 nimity so far as to shake hands with the Antis of Chigalosigri, who still earned, rolled 
 up under his arm, the tapir-skin of which he had robbed him. I felt no doubt, however, 
 as it is an old custom of savages to pillage one. another, that our host, on the first visit 
 he should make to his good friends the Chigalosigris, would take care to recoup himself 
 for his losses, and leave very little under their roof. 
 
 By a delicate attention which we highly appreciated, the proprietors abandoned to 
 us the entire possession of their ajoupas, and went, accompanied by our rowers, to 
 
 m* 
 
 mMMMa 
 
 
 ^Yu ~ 
 
 r^ ' 
 
 is! 
 
 THE TRAVELLERS DRYING THEIR LINEN AND OTHER EFFECTS 
 
 camp on the shore round a great fire. We heard them laughing and chattering until 
 sleep came to close at once our eyes and our ears. The night that we passed stretched 
 on the ground under the thatched roofs of Manugali was the pleasantest we had 
 experienced since the commencement of our journey. 
 
 Iu the morning we awoke refreshed and ready for work. Our first care was to 
 ascertain if our canoes and rafts were safe where Ave had left them. Our trunks and 
 boxes, which we took the fancy to open and overhaul, were lined in the interior with a 
 bluish mould, produced by damp. The linen they contained was in a sorry condition. 
 Each took his stock of clothing out of the receptacle, in which it would soon have rotted, 
 and exposed the various articles in the open air. During the whole day, waistcoats, 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 481 
 
 pantaloons, and shirts, even drawers and night-caps, were spread on the stones, or hung 
 on lines, shrinking up in the sun, or floating at pleasure in the wind. Each owner of 
 the property, seated a few steps from his wardrobe, kept his eye constantly fixed upon 
 it, for fear some savage, captivated by the fashions of Europe, should dress himself 
 at his expense. In the evening the trunks were repacked and placed on the rafts. We 
 then made a poor supper, as usual, and slept till the morning. 
 
 A brilliant sun shone on our departure. We paid our debt of gratitude to the 
 proprietor of the ajoupa of Manugali by a present of some copper buttons and a rusty 
 key belonging to a padlock which had been lost. No doubt the industrious Antis 
 would make a harpoon of this key by applying some kind of friction to it. As we went 
 towards our canoes, Simuco and his brother, followed by their wives, came to take 
 leave of us. " The time they had passed in oar company, short as it had been, had 
 sufficed for them to appreciate our many qualities, and any number of days longer 
 could have added nothing to the affectionate regard which they felt for us." This 
 little speech, delivered in a breath by Simuco to our polyglot chuno, who translated it 
 well or ill, proved that this heroic savage had begun to shrink from the cataracts and 
 rapids, and was desirous of returning to his ajoupa in the gorge of Chiruntia. The 
 desire was too natural for us to raise the least objection to it; we therefore received 
 his adieus and offered ours in return, and as he stretched out his hand with the palm 
 upwards, as if expecting a pourboire, we shook that valorous hand but put nothing in it. 
 
 We now re-embarked and rowed out into the stream. Two little stony and reedy 
 islands barred the bed of the river at a few bow-shots from Manugali. We threaded 
 the narrow canal left between one of them and the right bank, bordered in this place 
 by two or three charming varieties of Cyperus. This bit of landscape had a mock- 
 Egyptian aspect, which would have charmed the recent editors of Champollion. A 
 dozen rapids that we had to descend in quick succession dissipated the oriental dreams 
 in which we had begun to indulge at the sight of that fine clump of the pseudo-papyrus. 
 
 We soon found ourselves at the entrance of a narrow and winding gorge over- 
 shadowed by large trees. A river ran noiselessly through it, and brought its tribute 
 of limpid waters to the Quillabamba Santa Ana. On the clayey slope of its right 
 bank, half-hidden by the charming vegetation, Were two Indian huts, which we 
 looked at as we passed without visiting them. This place, called Pachiri, so veiled 
 in shade and mystery, so fresh to the eye, and so soothing to the spirit, that a painter 
 might have wished to fix it on his canvas, and a poet to celebrate it in musical 
 strophes, could only be remembered with disgust by the chief of the French com- 
 mission, whose canoe filled in a rapid which barred the river some twenty steps 
 distant. This rapid, in which our companions saw nothing but a vulgar obstacle, 
 appeared to me, on the contrary, to have been placed by the heavenly powers before 
 the ouaddi of Pachiri, expressly to teach mankind that in this world, where nothing is 
 perfect, sorrow is always the close companion of pleasure, as in Greek or Latin verse 
 the spondee is always found side by side with the dactyl. I do not know if the 
 Count de la Blanche-Epine was of my opinion, the physical and moral depression of 
 which I saw him the prey having prevented me from questioning him on that point. 
 
 VOL. I. 61 
 
4 so 
 
 PERU. 
 
 The poor fellow grieved so sorely, and seemed in such despair on feeling that his pan- 
 taloons were so thoroughly soaked as to be pasted to his thighs, while his jersey stuck 
 to his back, that out of respect for his very legitimate grief we halted, and lost two 
 hours while we looked at him making himself comfortable. 
 
 This catastrophe enabled me to take a stroll and collect some plants. I invariably 
 did so when the dangers of the river obliged us to abandon temporarily our canoes 
 and walk along the shore. These plants, of which I collected some armfuls, and threw 
 into my canoe to study and sketch at leisure, never remained very long in my posses- 
 sion. While I examined one of them a cataract or a rapid would bar the passage, 
 
 RIVER AT PACHIRI. 
 
 a wave coming from I know not where would suddenly break over the vessel, soak 
 me from head to foot, and when, recovering from my first surprise, and spluttering 
 the water out of my mouth and nostrils, I reopened my eyes and looked about me, 
 behold my botanical specimens floating far away on the river! This sort of study, 
 obstinately resumed many times a day, was always interrupted in the same manner. 
 
 I have remarked that the accident which befel the chief of the French commission, 
 and the profound affliction he felt in consequence of it, had made us feel that it was 
 a duty to wait while he arranged his toilet. While his slaves were AA'iping from his body 
 the last tears of the naiad, I walked up the shore to make a sketch of the gorge of 
 Pachiri. This done, I strolled along the banks of the little river, clothed with a rich 
 carpet of Canacorus, Heliconias, and Marantece (a species of arrow-root). Out of their 
 foliage shot up long stalks with thyrses of red, pink, or yellow flowers, which contrasted 
 charmingly with the satin-like green of the large leaves of these plants, apparently 
 fashioned by nature to be used as a dinner-service by the poor traveller. What roast 
 game and boiled fish I have eaten out of these vegetable platters! 
 
 While I was selecting from among these Musacece some individuals which were new 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 483 
 
 to me, I discovered, tangled in the branches of a shrub which it strangled in its embrace, 
 a Bignonia jusminium, with dark shiny leaves, and a pure white corolla with a purple 
 spot in its centre. The penetrating odour of this flower reminded me of the tuberose. 
 It was the first scented bignonia I had yet found either in nature or in the reports 
 of travellers. I rushed at it like a kite seizing its prey. At the moment when I was 
 making a section of one of its stalks, the cry vamos! which may be freely translated 
 embark! was raised by my companions. I seized with one hand my bundle of reeds, 
 with the other my scented bignonia, and running all the way to the shore had but just 
 time to throw myself into my canoe when we pushed out into the stream. I had hardly 
 got settled down when it occurred to me to arrange my plants and sharpen my pencil, 
 iu order to make a sketch and a description, as faithful as possible, of each of them. 
 I had commenced working when we arrived at the rapids of Chimiato. The Indian who 
 managed my canoe, and amused himself by looking over my shoulder at my pencilling, 
 could not avoid in time a sunken rock. The canoe was thrown upon its side, and two 
 or three waves washing over me carried off my odoriferous harvest. "Lightly come, 
 lightly go," I said to myself on seeing my bignonia and my musacea? struggling in the 
 current, which carried them far away from the shore that had given them birth. Seeing 
 the impossibility of continuing my botanical studies, I took off my clothes to dry, only 
 retaining that garment which the late Abbe" Delille, of modest memory, would never 
 have dared to name without the aid of a periphrasis. 
 
 Between Pachiri and the embouchure of the river Yaviro, where our day's journey 
 terminated, we passed five affluents, very insignificant in themselves, but which acquired 
 an importance that we each appreciated in his own way, from nineteen rapids situated 
 in their more or less immediate neighbourhood. Our first care on landing at Yaviro 
 was to ascertain the breadth and apparent direction of this affluent on the right of the 
 Quillabamba Santa Ana. The former Ave found to be about sixteen yards at its embou- 
 chure; its direction we ascertained to be south-south-west. We learned besides from 
 our rowers that it takes its rise at Ifiahui, in the same place as the river of Chapo, which 
 we had passed near Umiripanco on the third day of our journey. Eleven streams 
 which take their rise in the delta formed by the junction of these two rivers at their 
 common source bear their tribute of waters to the Quillabamba Santa Ana. 1 
 
 This geographical study, trivial as it may seem, and the discovery in the neighbour- 
 hood of our camp of a number of dead tapirs, and apes mortally wounded by the arrows 
 of the savages, and which had come to the shore to quench their thirst before dying, 
 were the only incidents which signalized our stay for au evening and a night at Yaviro, 
 where we made a supper of yucca-roots, and obtained only a few hours' sleep in conse- 
 quence of the fine and continuous rain which had set in and broken our rest. In the 
 morning we were thoroughly benumbed, there was a feeling of heaviness in the head, 
 our bones ached, we were sneezing every minute, and felt a strong tendency to dissolve 
 into water like Biblis. By these symptoms we knew we were suffering from catarrh, 
 and having no sudorifics at our command, we could only leave to Providence the care 
 of curing us. 
 
 1 See map, Ko. III. 
 
484 
 
 PERU. 
 
 At a quarter past eight precisely, as shown by my book of rhumbs, which is 
 now open before me, and which it is my practice to consult in case" of doubt, we 
 quitted Yaviro, and recommenced our descent of the stream. It was a gloomy time. 
 Parrots and perroquets perched on the tops of the trees, and, hidden from sight by the 
 colour of their plumage, split our ears with their screams. Clouds of swallows wheeled 
 around us. Our canoes, driven by a furious current, swiftly approached the rapids 
 of Yaviro, which the savages had boasted of in advance as wonders of their kind. On 
 passing a tongue of land the space widened before us, and three belts of foam, in the 
 
 RAPIDS OF MANTALO. 
 
 midst of which were visible the tops of great black rocks, appeared distinctly in the 
 perspective. The scene was no doubt well worthy of our admiring observation, but 
 it would have been dangerous to attempt resting on our oars; and our Antis, pulling 
 with all their strength, drew to the shore, where they landed us. This shore was encum- 
 bered with enormous blocks of freestone, which we had to climb like goats, but from 
 the vantage-ground of these natural observatories we not only obtained as the reward 
 of our toil a fine view of the rapids of Yaviro, but had the satisfaction of helping our 
 savages to guide the canoes and rafts among the rocks. 
 
 After an hour's labour for our men, and of delayed expectation for us, we were able 
 to re-embark with no further accident to report than the submersion of a canoe which 
 overset near the shore with its lading. We were felicitating ourselves on the success 
 of our passage when a dull noise like the distant rolling of thunder struck on our ear. 
 This noise, which for nine days we had heard at very frequent intervals without having 
 grown accustomed to it, announced clearly enough that the action ended at one point 
 was about to commence at another. From the doubtful looks that we exchanged the 
 savages guessed our anxiety, and in order to end it informed us that we were 
 approaching the oboris of Mantalo. These oboris, which the cholos of Cocabambillas, 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 485 
 
 for their part, call tumbos, were rapids. It remained to be seen if they exceeded in 
 length, and breadth, and consequently in danger, those we had left behind lis. 
 
 We were very soon satisfied on this point. The rapids of Yaviro were nothing but 
 child's play compared with those Ave were about to descend. Each prepared himself 
 for the event by gathering up in haste whatever he held most precious, and causing 
 himself to be put ashore. As the canoes, weighed down by their lading, would not 
 have been able to pass the archipelago of rocks which barred the river without being 
 filled by the boiling waves, they unloaded them, and transported the goods on the backs 
 
 REMANSOS OR CALM REACHES OF THE RIVER AT HUINFUYU. 
 
 of the men to a spot below the rapids, which were nearly a mile in extent. Three hours 
 were devoted to these various labours. 
 
 After we had left behind us these dangerous passages we breathed freely a moment 
 in the remanso of Huinpuyu, which resembled those of Biricanani and Canari of 
 Arcadian memory. On the shore of these sparkling waters, on a slope carpeted with 
 verdure, grew slender bamboos like tufts of feathers. A group of tree-ferns of the genus 
 Alsophila, which crowned one of the slopes on our right, gave to the place quite a 
 tropical character. To the gulls and ducks, habitual companions in these solitudes, 
 had succeeded a pretty variety of swallows, with an ash-coloured back and white head 
 and belly, which skimmed lightly over the river, now clipping their beaks and now the 
 tip of a wing in its pellucid waters. 
 
 A treacherous, because almost imperceptible, current soon drifted us far from 
 Huinpuyu. In contrast with its fresh landscape we had now before us the rapids of 
 Saniriato. Here, the bed of the Quillabamba Santa Ana, remarkably enlarged, was 
 barred from shore to shore by a dike of rocks, which the waves one moment covered, 
 and the next left plainly visible. The breadth of the current, divided into three unequal 
 streams, rushed foaming and roaring through as many openings in this dam. At the 
 
486 PERU. 
 
 sight of this new obstacle each of us felt like Eliphaz, as if a spirit had passed before his 
 face and his hair stood on end. A respite, however, on which Ave had not counted, was 
 granted us by Providence, represented by the Antis, who declared with one voice that 
 the day's work was ended, and, without asking our opinion of the matter, disembarked 
 at Saniriato, near a torrent of the same name. This halt, which seemed to us premature, 
 considering that the sun was still high above the horizon, was, in fact, rendered impera- 
 tive by the necessity of laying in provisions for the journey, as the places we had to 
 traverse on the morrow and succeeding days were absolutely desert, and offered no 
 resource. Now the quebrada through which ran the torrent of Saniriato was in- 
 habited by Antis known to our rowers, who, out of consideration for us personally, 
 added to their love for the articles of barter with which our boxes appeared to be well 
 supplied, would secure us, we were told, against the threatened famine. As the proposal 
 was of a character to secure the suffrages of the majority, we signified our approval by 
 a nod. Four Antis, accompanied by one of our cholos, went immediately in search of 
 the natives of Saniriato, leaving their comrades to keep us company. 
 
 To charm away the tedium of waiting, and cheat our appetites, sharpened by a 
 twenty-four hours' fast, one of the long-haired pilots, to whom the cholo Anaya served 
 as interpreter, related some episodes of his savage life, which we will not attempt to 
 repeat. These recitals, racy of the forest, need for effect the theatre of the action, the 
 accessories and the personages, the action and the eloquence of the narrator, — things 
 of which a traveller, on returning to his own country, vainly endeavours to give an 
 adequate idea by writing. To these various stories of his life, the narrator thought it 
 his duty to add some useful observations upon the manner of living in the woods, which 
 he completed by recipes against the bites of serpents, stings of scorpions, myriapods, 
 mosquitoes, and other animals, whose utility in relation to mankind has never yet been 
 clearly demonstrated. None of us, however, felt any inclination for a sylvan life, and 
 the advice of the Indian was received with indifference. As a practised orator he saw 
 that he had taken a false step, and tried again to engage our attention by speaking of 
 the route we had to follow, the lack of provisions, and the clangers of every kind which 
 would await us beyond Saniriato; in a word, of the possibility that we might leave our 
 bones at the bottom of the river. Never had our worthy Antis, whose name I have 
 always regretted I did not ask, been so religiously listened to ; never had any discourse 
 of his been so deeply engraved in the memory of his auditors ; above all, when he added, 
 by way of epilogue, that the obori (rapid) of Saniriato, which we were about to descend, 
 and in which two men and four women of his tribe were drowned the previous month, 
 was nothing in comparison with those we should meet with further on. Struck with 
 the idea that a similar fate might be theirs, the most hardened among our fellows Avere 
 on the point of performing an act of contrition, and demanding absolution from our 
 chaplain, Father Bobo. A thoughtful silence prevailed for some minutes amongst us. 
 I took advantage of it to make a sketch of the orator, Avho wore as a hat or helmet the 
 cover of a box of confitures which he had found in one of our canoes. 
 
 The arrival of our roAvers, and of their friends of Saniriato, dissipated as by enchant- 
 ment the melancholy which clouded our brows. At sight of the provisions which they 
 
CHUL1TUQUI TO TUNKINI. 
 
 489 
 
 brought, every one of us, forgetting his momentary thought of death, felt the irresistible 
 necessity of living, and, as a consequence, of getting something to eat. The new-comers 
 were welcomed, surrounded, and relieved in the twinkling of an eye of the bananas, 
 the yuccas, and the quarter of smoked peccary with which they were laden. We went 
 so far even as to snatch from their hands two live curassows and a cage made of reeds, 
 in which was imprisoned an agami or trumpet-bird (Psophia crepitans). Our dread 
 of wanting food was so great that we emptied out of the wallet in Avhich they were 
 contained the very bow and arrows with which the Antis were armed, with the idea 
 that in some emergency these objects might appease our hunger and prolong our 
 existence. The assurance of these good savages, that before the end of the day they 
 
 
 THE ORATOR OF SANIRIATO. 
 
 would bring us other provisions, alone prevented us from stripping them of their very 
 clothes. 
 
 After a moment passed on the shore, which they employed in taking particular note 
 of our persons, our new friends departed, carrying off with them those of our rowers 
 who during the absence of their comrades had kept us company, but promising to return 
 before night. Our first care was to roll up our sleeves to the elbow, light a fire, fill a 
 pot with water, and while the liquid was getting hot, to cut up the peccary, peel the 
 bananas, and scrape the yuccas. Fearing that the pot, the object of our fervent 
 adoration, might vanish in the smoke, or take to itself wings, and by Hying away 
 frustrate all our hopes, we all alike, great and small, drew near and kept our eyes fixed 
 on it until the meal was perfectly cooked. The end of this quarter of an hour, for 
 which our stomachs almost audibly groaned, arrived at last. A cholo took the smoking 
 pot off the fire, and an equal distribution of its contents Mas made all round. We were 
 swallowing the first mouthfuls when the Antis of Saniriato, faithful to their promise, 
 returned accompanied by our rowers, some carrying a regime of bananas, others 
 a basket of yuccas. To these fruits and roots were added some strips of tapir's flesh 
 and some cutlets of smoked peccary. We smiled all over at our excellent purveyors. 
 
 62 
 
400 
 
 PERU. 
 
 After supper, at which they assisted, sitting upon their heels and wondering, as it 
 appeared to me, at our ravenous appetites, we distributed among them some buttons, 
 looking-glasses, and other trifles ; to which we added, as a special favour, of which we 
 made them sensible, a few knives worth sixpence a piece, when we knew that they 
 intended to accompany us beyond the dangerous rapids we were so soon to encounter. 
 On receiving our large cook's knives, the blades of which could be bent like tin, the 
 joy of these simple natives knew no bounds. 
 
 The night Ave passed on the shore of Saniriato was rather tedious and uncomfort- 
 able, owing to the gusts of an impetuous wind, accompanied with bursts of intermittent 
 rain, such as are called by sailors a squall. Suffering a little from the wet and cold, 
 
 RIVER AND RAPIDS OF SANIRIATO. 
 
 we rose with the day, and at once prepared for our departure. During the night the 
 river had suddenly swollen, and carried off the smallest of our canoes, in which was one 
 of my boxes, containing linen and papers, besides various articles in toy-ware, the 
 current money of the desert. I stifled my sighs, and said nothing of my loss. With 
 the rapids of Saniriato before us, and the question of life or death to be decided, it 
 would have been puerile, nay ridiculous, to cry over the loss of a few shirts and 
 little bells. 
 
 At a quarter before eight we left Saniriato and its turbulent stream. On arriving 
 within a hundred paces of the first rapid we landed, and while we walked along the 
 shore, encumbered with enormous stones, our canoes and rafts, guided by the Antis, 
 passed the first obstacle without accident. From the top of the rocks that we had 
 to climb, we were able to observe every detail of the manoeuvring of the savages, who, 
 naked, and with their only garment fastened upon their heads, looked like demons in 
 the troubled waters. 
 
 Four of these cataracts, with waves curling like breakers, and barring the whole 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUXKINI. 
 
 491 
 
 breadth of the river, were successively traversed without any accident beyond the 
 complete submersion of our baggage, which had been securely fastened on the rafts, in 
 anticipation of the risk. Below the fourth rapid, the Quillabamba Santa Aim relaxed 
 its fury somewhat, and the members of the Peruvian commission profited by the calm 
 to re-enter their canoe, where our chaplain followed them. The frequent heavy showers 
 experienced during our journey, the long fasts, and nights passed in the open air, had 
 
 FATHER BOBO AND HIS AIDES. 
 
 almost broken down the poor old man, and made him altogether ill. During the last 
 two days his legs, which had swelled as far as the knee, refused their usual office, and 
 in the steep or stony places the assistant-naturalist and myself had lent our arms to 
 assist his trembling steps. If, however, his physical forces had sensibly diminished 
 since our departure from Chahuaris, his appetite and his flow of spirits were, on the 
 other hand, constantly maintained at a reassuring height. He ate like any other fonr 
 men, laughed like any half-dozen, and the frequently doubtful pleasantries of our 
 Parisian bird-stuffer, far from scandalizing the holy man, seemed but to revive the 
 memories of his youth. 
 
 When he was seated in the canoe by the side of his companions, the rowers pushed 
 out into the stream. Whether it was instinct or caprice, I know not, but for our part 
 we continued the journey on foot. After walking for about ten minutes, a dull 
 
492 
 
 PERU. 
 
 rumbling noise seemed to come from a concealed source, and almost immediately after- 
 wards a belt of foam, standing out in relief against the sombre back -ground of the foliage, 
 announced that we were approaching another rapid. While we were quietly admiring 
 the fine contrasts of colour which at this spot distinguished the landscape, lighted 
 up, so to speak, with a sinister effect by the whiteness of the water, we 'saw the 
 canoe of the Peruvian commission slacken its course, then stop and turn upon itself, as 
 
 DEATH OP FATHER EOBO. 
 
 if it were hesitating between several opposing currents. But immediately yielding 
 to the most violent of them, it darted away like an arrow, describing in its course a 
 curve which brought it near the shore. The situation appeared to us a critical one, but 
 we did not understand its extreme gravity, until we saw the savages avail themselves of 
 the momentary approach of their vessel to the shore to throw themselves into the water 
 and swim to the bank. Following their example, the captain of the frigate and his 
 lieutenant also sprang into the water and saved themselves. Left alone, the poor old 
 chaplain rose to his feet, extended his arms, and appeared as if he meant to follow his 
 companions; but his failing strength betrayed him, and he fell back into the canoe, 
 which the current bore along into the midst of the rapid, where, overwhelmed by the 
 waves, it instantly disappeared. 
 
 There was a moment of terror and stupor, during which every one of us who 
 witnessed the accident stood as if he had been struck by lightning, and feared to raise 
 his voice. But violent emotions are of short duration. Soon our spirits were a little 
 calmed. Some hazarded a reflection in a low voice upon the misfortune that had 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 
 
 493 
 
 happened. Then others spoke of it in their natural tones, and some congratulated them 
 selves on having walked along the shore instead of resuming their place in the canoes. 
 Egoism and indifference reacted against the first impulsive heat of the heart, while 
 oblivion, the second winding-sheet of the dead, spread its dark waters over the poor 
 monk. 
 
 We rejoined the captain of the frigate and the lieutenant, who had undressed in 
 order to dry their clothes in the sun. The canoe, when it foundered with Father Bobo, 
 had carried to the bottom all that they possessed, from their gold-embroidered uniform 
 to their very stockings. Like the vanquished of Pavia, the commandant of the frigate 
 
 -~-m 
 
 ■ 
 
 '. 
 
 ■ 
 
 THE CAPTAIN OF THE FRIGATE. 
 
 might have exclaimed, with a legitimate pride, "All is lost save honour!" Of his past 
 splendour there remained nothing at this moment but a covering for his head made 
 of vicugna's wool, turned up at the edges like a Chinese hat; an undershirt of green 
 flannel, which concealed very imperfectly the leanness of his torso; a pair of pantaloons, 
 from which the straps had been violently torn away; and a pair of shoes trodden down 
 at the heels. A traveller's poncho, which he happened to have on his shoulders at the 
 moment of the accident, and in which he draped himself as in a cloak, imparted to his 
 wretched appearance a certain air of majesty. The costume of the lieutenant, to judge 
 of it by the sketch which we made two hours after the disaster, was of a character 
 to be much more faithfully represented by the pencil than the pen. A red ape (Ateles 
 rujus) which had been fastened on one of the rafts, and which was the only piece 
 of property left to the unfortunate young man, reconciled him by its grimaces to the 
 hardness of his lot. 
 
 After a tear dropped in haste over the fate of these martyrs to science, we con- 
 tinued our walk along the shore, leaving to the savages, who had recovered all their 
 good humour, the care of guiding the canoes and rafts down the river. It was not 
 
494 
 
 PERU. 
 
 long before we sighted the rapid of Impaniquiato, which for turbulence, noise, and 
 foam, was in no degree inferior to that of Sintunili, of disastrous memory. At an 
 exclamation uttered by one of the Antis I hastened my steps. The savage, plunged 
 in the water up to his arm-pits, and bearing with all the weight of his two hands upon 
 the liana attached to the largest of the rafts, pointed out to me among the rocks of the 
 shore a wooden box which the waves had cast up after having bumped it open and 
 deprived it of its contents. In that bit of flotsam and jetsam I recognized the box 
 that had been carried away in the canoe by the swollen river during the previous 
 night. "Another lost illusion," I said to myself, giving a kick at the box which the 
 
 
 - 
 
 - 
 
 . ■ ■ ■ --, - ~ I - 
 
 THE ALFEREZ OF THE FRIGATE DOING DOT! AS LIEUTENANT. 
 
 evening before was full to the brim with linen, papers, and trifling objects of barter, 
 and now, empty and dislocated, was condemned to rot unhonourcd upon this inhos- 
 pitable shore. 
 
 Meditating upon the fate of my box, which I compared to that of man here below, 
 I rejoined my companions. The rapid of Impaniquiato was passed; the current was now 
 running at a moderate pace, and at a distance of two gunshots from this spot on the 
 left bank a sandy shore seemed to invite us to I'est from the mental and physical fatigues 
 of the day. We gladly availed ourselves of the opportunity it offered. Having re-em- 
 barked, we crossed the river diagonally, and landed on the spot referred to, which took 
 the name of Mapiruntuni, from that of a rapid situated at some distance, but even now 
 within hearing. 
 
 Our disembarkation having been effected, two canoes were sent to explore the inlets 
 and irregularities of the shore in the hope of finding the body of Father Bobo. From 
 two o'clock to five our cholos of Cocabambillas conscientiously beat up every creek, bay, 
 and corner within a mile of the place. But their labour was all in vain. Instead of the 
 Christian burial which we had destined for our unfortunate chaplain — whom the 
 
0HUL1TUQUI TO TUNKINL 495 
 
 assistant-naturalist, with that pitiless badinage of the gamin de Paris, who respects 
 nothing, compared to Jonah in the whale's belly — the poor old priest had no other tomb 
 than the stomachs of the fishes. 
 
 I must here confess, to the shame of human nature in general, and of the Franco- 
 Peruvian expedition in particular — an expedition of which accident has made me the 
 historiographer — that the disaster of which we had been the witnesses, and which should 
 have caused us some despondency, had so little touched our hearts, hardened by ten 
 days of suffering and nine nights passed in the open air, that on the afternoon of that 
 fatal day, stretched upon the hot sand of the shore, and unrolled in the sun like snakes, 
 we talked as loud and laughed as heartily as if Father Bobo, our chaplain and friend, had 
 not been snatched from us by a violent death. But this contempt of the sacred laws 
 of fraternity was to be speedily punished. Providence had His eye upon us. While 
 we thus enjoyed ourselves on the sands, defying our present misery, and without 
 a thought t)f future mischances, divine Justice and Vengeance had already prepared 
 themselves — the one with her torch, the other with her sword and scales, and, as in the 
 picture of Prud'hon, only waited for the night to seize us by the hair and inflict a terrible 
 punishment upon our insensibility. 
 
 The lading of our vessels had been put ashore, and the various things were spread 
 out to dry. The captain of the frigate and his lieutenant, having nothing but what they 
 stood in, kept themselves apart, silent and miserable. Inspired by one and the same 
 thought, the assistant-naturalist and myself selected from among the various articles 
 of our wardrobe a few garments which we thought might be useful to our unhappy 
 companions. These gifts, offered most freely on our part, were accepted on theirs with 
 entire frankness. Moved by the scene, the chief of the French commission wished 
 to co-operate in our pious work, and to avoid wounding the ticklish sensibility of his 
 rival, secretly gave the assistant-naturalist a double cotton night-cap, which the latter 
 cut in half, and so made two head-pieces of it. The lieutenant took his half, and 
 remarking that it reminded him of the chulio, or Phrygian cap, imported into the 
 country of Anahuac by his ancestor Manco Capac ages ago, placed it on his head. 
 As to the commandant, whether it was that he guessed out of whose linen-chest the 
 cap had come, or whether he was shocked by its pyramidal form, I know not; but 
 in spite of all I could say, he refused to wear it. I therefore lost the pleasure which 
 I had promised myself of taking the portrait of the Peruvian chief adorned with that 
 remarkable appendage, which must have added twenty inches to his stature; never- 
 theless, in order to utilize the cap, which he consented to accept, he made four holes 
 round the edge, to which he fixed four strings, and employed it during the rest of the 
 journey as a wallet, in which he kept his bananas, his arachis (earth-nuts), and other 
 eatables. 
 
 The emotions of the day had so reacted upon our stomachs that it was with 
 a pleasure approaching to voluptuousness Ave sat down to the ragout of tapir's flesh 
 and green bananas that was served under the name of supper. Meanwhile night had 
 closed in, and after supper it only remained for each to select his sleeping-place and 
 prepare his bed as he could. The commandant and his lieutenant, having neither skins 
 
496 
 
 PERU. 
 
 nor other coverings, stretched themselves fraternally side by side upon a carpet of green 
 rushes. An hour later we were all asleep. 
 
 Towards midnight we were suddenly awoke by a clap of thunder. Each sprang 
 up in a sitting posture and looked about him with a scared expression. Evidently 
 we were in for a storm. The sky was densely black; constantly recurring flashes 
 of lightning opened fantastic perspectives on the river and the shore. Then the wind 
 
 DIVISION OF A COTTON NIGHT-CAP. 
 
 roared through the forests in stormy gusts, lashing and bending the trees, which creaked 
 ominously under its pressure, and was followed by a downpour of rain, which continued 
 like a torrent the whole night. We presented a pitiful spectacle at dawn. Our faces 
 were livid, and our teeth chattered as from an attack of fever. About eight o'clock 
 the clouds were dispelled by a brilliant sun, which smiled upon us without having 
 sufficient heat to restore our animation. The air was cold and clear, the ground, strewn 
 with branches rent aAvay by the storm, had already absorbed the water. The only trace 
 that remained of the deluge of the night, setting aside these scattered fragments of vege- 
 tation, were the rain-drops, sparkling on every leaf and blade like liquid diamonds, 
 and reflecting the light which made our misery visible in all the colours of the 
 prism. 
 
 This tempest, in which my companions saw nothing but one of those vulgar storms 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 497 
 
 which we had often experienced since our departure from Chahuaris, 1 was in my eyes 
 a manifestation of the wrath of Heaven, and a proper chastisement for the insensibility 
 we had shown on the previous afternoon for the tragical end of our poor chaplain. 
 
 Leaving to the sun and air the care of drying our streaming bodies and clothes, 
 Ave resumed our journey, walking along the shore while the canoes and rafts descended 
 the river. In the rapid of Mapiruntuni our baggage was drenched by the waves, but 
 as it was wet from the rain of the previous night when we started, a little more water 
 was of no importance. At ten o'clock we passed a second rapid, named Chahuancani. 
 Here the landscape suddenly changed its character. The shores disappeared, the line 
 of forests was broken, and walls of a reddish freestone formed a high rampart on both 
 sides of the river. In the impossibility of continuing our course along a perpendicular 
 shore, we climbed the rocks, and made our way over their summits, where the vegetable 
 debris, accumulated during many ages, had formed a sufficiently thick bed of mould 
 to support a few clumps of Berberis, Mimosas, and a species of box with spreading 
 branches, in the knotty roots of which our feet were continually caught. Seen from 
 our elevated position as from a balloon, the river, deeply intrenched between that 
 double wall, Avhose shadow darkened its surface, reminded us — taking our canoes for 
 gondolas — of the mysterious canaletti of beautiful Venice. 
 
 A deep rent, which we recognized as the bed of an ancient torrent, with the sand of 
 which it was still strewn, divided the rocky wall and ran in a gentle slope to the river. 
 Descending by this road, we rejoined our canoes and once more embarked. Notwith- 
 standing the rapidity of the current the water was calm, and for an hour and a half 
 we continued our course without meeting with any obstacle. Then, however, a slight 
 disturbance of the water made us aware that we were in the neighbourhood of a rapid, 
 and in a few moments hostilities were recommenced. According to the Antis we were 
 approaching a place called Sibucuni, which our cholos translated by Traga-canoa 
 (swallow-canoe). In our circumstances the conjunction of these two words was 
 anything but reassuring. We therefore kept watch, ready to struggle for our life with 
 the perfidious element which had served us so many bad turns. 
 
 The unnatural aspect suddenly assumed by the river appeared to justify our 
 apprehensions. The inclination of its bed was so apparent as to strike us with 
 terror. The broken rocks, heaped together with increasing wildness, as if to forbid 
 our further passage, so affected our spirits, that we requested the rowers to land us as 
 quickly as possible, not on the left shore — the shores had disappeared — but on the half- 
 submerged rocks which had taken its place. We thus recommenced our scramble 
 along the crest of the cerros, while the savages, who had provided themselves with 
 lianas, tied them end to end, and by this means obtained cables long enough to enable 
 
 1 These continually recurring storms, which some might suppose to be a literary artifice designed to give to this 
 part of our journey an interesting air of much suffering and endurance, and which usually cease at daybreak, to be 
 succeeded by a clear sky and brilliant sun, are thus accounted for. We had left Chahuaris on the 14th of August, 
 the end of the rainy season, and in descending the rapids of the Quillabamba Santa Aiia we had been keeping an 
 almost parallel course with the links of the Cordillera chain, whose summits attract the clouds. When, however, 
 we entered on the plains, it was the month of September, and the Cordillera was left behind us, so that, the cause 
 ceasing, the effect ceased also. 
 
 vol. i. e3 
 
498 
 
 PERU. 
 
 them, by lying flat on the rocks, to guide the canoes down the torrent. A rapid about 
 three hundred yards in breadth, white with foam and furious in its turmoil of waters, 
 terminated the descent of the Sibucuni, whose goodness to us had given the lie to its 
 name. None of our canoes had been swallowed up in this gulf. 
 
 The place, nevertheless, had made such an impression upon us, that to prevent the 
 recurrence of the danger we had escaped, we informed our rowers that we should con- 
 tinue along the rocks, and leave to them the care of guiding the canoes and rafts in 
 
 RAPID OF SIBUCUNI. 
 
 whatever way they deemed best. This plan, which prudence and perhaps fear suggested, 
 was unhappily impracticable. Below Sibucuni the river ran between perpendicular 
 walls of rock, and all communication between ourselves and our canoes being completely 
 intercepted, we were compelled to make an attempt to rejoin them, which a hundred 
 steps farther on would have been impossible. The descent was therefore resolved upon. 
 Each, helping himself as he could with his hands, his finger-nails, and his staff, clinging 
 to the angles of the rock or slipping over its smooth surfaces, reached the bottom 
 without accident. The chief of the French commission, prudent as the king of Ithaca, 
 had a cord passed under his shoulders, and thanks to this ingenious precaution, which 
 made him look like a pail descending into a well, readied without accident the bottom 
 of his canoe, where the strongest of his slaves received him in their arms. 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 
 
 499 
 
 According to the savages it only remained to descend one more rapid before we 
 found ourselves in calm waters. As, for the last two days, these rapids had become 
 more and more perilous, we thought it not unlikely that the last of them might be to 
 our journey what the dessert is to the dinner, or the bouquet to a display of fireworks. 
 
 DESCENT OF THE ROCKS AT SIBUCUXL 
 
 This thought, coupled with the impossibility of avoiding the danger by disembarking 
 and making our way along either of the shores, as we had previously been able to do, 
 made us rather serious. It was with a perplexed air, and with such a feeling of 
 nervousness that every sound grated on our ears, that Ave seated ourselves in our canoes, 
 and once more launched into the stream. 
 
 The river, intrenched between two walls of freestone, was about sixty yards broad 
 at this spot, As we advanced, it gradually became more contracted, until between one 
 
500 
 
 PERU. 
 
 and two miles from Sibucuni it scarcely exceeded a dozen yards in breadth. There 
 the double wall of rock suddenly sunk away. A belt of foam, above which rose a light 
 mist barring the bed of the river, warned us of the approach of danger. The eyes of the 
 savages twinkled, the rowers bent to their stroke like jaguars about to make a spring. 
 Those who steered half rose, and with their nostrils inflated and their hair streaming in 
 the wind, pressed firmly against the sides of the canoe the oar which served as a rudder. 
 There ensued a moment of feverish expectation and terrible anxiety, during which no 
 one could foresee whether we should be able to descend the rapid in safety, or should be 
 swallowed up by it. Like black snakes, slender and alert, our canoes glided into the 
 
 
 THE COUNT DE LA B L A NCH E-E P I N E. 
 
 whirlpool of foam and disappeared from view. The most resolute among us shut our 
 eyes. A few seconds elapsed; then the hurrah of the savages announced the issue of 
 the struggle — the rapid of Tunkini was safely passed. 
 
 Below this dangerous passage the river contracted still more, and continued its course 
 between two walls or dykes of basalt, which succeeded to the freestone. The summits 
 of these formations, covered with a dense vegetation, were joined one to the other by a 
 network of lianas and Sarmentacece, which formed, at an elevation of some thirty feet, a 
 dome of verdure impenetrable to the rays of the sun. It was some minutes before our 
 eyes, dazzled by the light outside, became accustomed to the greenish obscurity of this 
 gorge, the most remarkable work of nature that we had yet met with on our journey. 
 When, from the scene regarded as a whole, we extended our appreciation to its details, 
 that which at first sight had only awoke the sentiment of surprise assumed a marvel- 
 lous and fairy-like character which filled us with admiration. 
 
 The natural tunnel or gorge, by whatever name we choose to designate it, might 
 be half a kilometre (somewhat less than a third of a mile) in length, and about fifty 
 feet wide, terminating in a luminous point like a star. Its walls were furrowed by 
 vertical trenches, serving as beds or conduits to the little streams which fell from their 
 
GORGE OP TUNKINI. 
 
CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 
 
 503 
 
 summits into the river, with no other noise than a kind of gentle trickling. We counted 
 in our passage through the gorge twenty three of these pretty hills; in the unequal 
 intervals between which we could see in the dim light, now a compact group of little 
 columns, now a truncated shaft; the incessant dripping of the foliage, drops of rain, 
 and tears of dew, during an incalculable number of ages, having sculptured the basalt, 
 and produced the most charming accidents of architecture, the most fantastic ara- 
 
 IUVER PASS (PORTE) OF TDNKINI. 
 
 besques, the most exquisite essays at ornamentation, which it would be possible 
 for the imagination to conceive or the chisel to execute. All these caprices of a 
 natural art — all these flowers, leaves, and branches fashioned in stone by an invisible 
 artist — seemed, by contact with the real leaves, whose shadows fell upon them, to 
 participate in the mobility of the latter, and to vibrate with them as if they also 
 were living things. 
 
 While we traversed this gorge — the fairy-like wonders of which, indicated rather 
 than defined, to borrow the terms of art, were such as one sees in the mist of dreams 
 rather than in the clear light of day — we were tempted, like Abou Hassan,, the false 
 caliph, to bite our little finger to convince ourselves we were awake. The danger 
 which surrounded us, however, was the ballast of reality, Avhich brought us down from 
 the heaven of sylphs and fairies, and kept us in the world of men. The river, rendered 
 furious by its captivity within these basaltic walls, but concentrating its fury in the 
 
504 PERU. 
 
 depth of its bed, throbbed in its whole mass, and caused the bottoms of our canoes 
 to tremble under our feet. In the sensation we experienced there was as much of 
 fear as of enthusiasm. It was one of those nervous emotions which mingle laughter 
 and tears. Soon the current, already rapid, redoubled its speed ; the parallel sculptures 
 of the two walls grew confused; the star-like point which had served as our Pharos, 
 and on which our eyes had been steadily fixed, grew larger and larger until it became a 
 portal, opening to a wide extended space. With the swiftness of an arrow our canoes 
 rushed out of the darkness of the gorge; passed, some twenty yards further on, the 
 puncu or pass of Tunkini (a notch or gap between two masses of rock), and suddenly 
 shot out into the open, inundated with air and sunshine. Henceforth the Cordillera 
 was behind us. We had entered on the American plains. 
 
EIGHTH STAGE 
 
 (FIRST SECTION). 
 
 TTTNKINI TO PARUITCHA 
 
 (PERU). 
 
 64 
 
OUR SHIPWRECK AT ANTIHCARIS. 
 
 EIGHTH STAGE 
 
 (FIRST SECTION). 
 
 TUNKINI TO PAEUITCHA, 
 
 A disappointed hope.— A wonderful tree.— The Antis fashion of bidding farewell to their friends and acquaintances.— 
 The author avoids an imaginary danger only to fall into a real one.— Arrival at Antihuaris— Ituriminiqui-Santiago.— 
 A sultan and his odalisques.— Geology, botany, and hydrography combined.— A menagerie on a raft— About the 
 antipathy of apes for music— Fall of forest trees.— With what pleasure geographers will learn that the rivers of 
 Paucartampu, Mapacho, and Camisia, which they have believed to be distinct, are one and the same river, under 
 three different names.— Arrival at Bitiricaya — First interview with the Chontaquiros Indians.— Jeronimo the tattooed 
 Christian.— The question of the preponderance of the Chontaquiros over the Antis is for the first time discussed.— 
 Lamentable history of the missionary Bruno, treacherously killed by a bell-ringer.— Dissertation on the past and 
 present history of the Antis Indians.- It is proved by the formula of a + 6 that the Chontaquiros Indians are at once 
 excellent rowers and queer fellows to deal with.— Compulsory approximation of the chiefs of the united commissions.— 
 How the Count de la Blanche-Epine fiuds to his cost that there are haricots and haricots, as there are eggs and eggs — 
 A house at Sipa.— Picture of the interior, with effects of light and shadow.— Collision with the trunk of a Siphonia 
 elastica.— The author and his ape have a scuffle on the river.— Hospitality in a canoe.— Memorable combat between 
 an Ateles niger and an Atehs rufus.-The shores of the Apuriraac— A box of preserved sardines.— A coup d'ceil, en 
 passant, of the river Tampu-Apurimac— The mission of Santa-Rosa and its converts.— False Christians and genuine 
 rogues.— Something about the Apu-Paro and the mixed population of its shores.— Man regarded as an animated 
 
508 PERU. 
 
 accessory of the landscape. — The three dwellings at Consaya. — How the chief of the French commission, when trying 
 to ride a winged chimera, receives a kick from a fantastic animal. — Arrival at Paruitcha. — Dissertation on the past 
 history and present state of the Chontaquiros Indians. 
 
 This sudden transition from darkness to light, this abrupt substitution for a compara- 
 tively contracted space of an unlimited extent of landscape, produced a singular effect. 
 It was like the flashing of a drawn sword in the sun, which so dazzled us that it made 
 us drop our eyes. To this sensation succeeded almost immediately astonishment, 
 mixed with admiration, to which the thought that we were delivered for ever from the 
 danger of cataracts and rapids added I know not what sweet sense of rest and heartfelt 
 satisfaction. For some minutes our eyes wandered with delight from the slopes of 
 the Quillabamba Santa Ana to the vegetation which characterized its shores. Like 
 certain pictures of the old masters, the landscape was painted with remarkable sobriety; 
 a decided blue for the sky, a yellow ochre for the river, a ruddy colour for the shores, 
 a dull green for the forests, were the only colours employed by the great artist. In 
 other circumstances we should perhaps have disapproved of this parsimonious use of 
 the resources of the palette; but here it appeared to us to enhance the character of 
 the composition. The attention, not being distracted by a diversity of tones and ever- 
 changing shades of colour, was better able to appreciate at their just value the firmness 
 of the first sketch, the harmonious development of the lines of the perspective, and the 
 brilliancy of the distances sparkling with light. 
 
 Immensely enlarged after leaving the gorge of Tunkini, the river from that moment 
 rolls the mass of its waters with the majesty of a stream capable of carrying vessels 
 of war on its bosom. Curious to ascertain its depth, we dropped the plummet six 
 times, at intervals of ten minutes, and obtained a mean of six fathoms. This was more 
 water than was necessary to float our canoes ; and besides the calm of the vast surface, 
 the tranquillity of its course, almost insensible to the eye, removed so far all idea of 
 danger, that the hope of finishing without accident a journey commenced under such 
 unfortunate auspices, suddenly tinted with rose-colour the humour of my companions. 
 The chiefs of the united commissions exchanged a grim smile, as if the happy influence 
 of the scene had already modified their mutual hatred. This ambiguous gleam of pleasure 
 which I surprised on their countenances, made me believe in the possibility of a good 
 understanding between the rivals. But the illusion was of short duration. We had 
 not accomplished three miles when the river contracted considerably, rocks appearing 
 above its surface, and, opposing an obstacle to the current, created an unbroken succes- 
 sion of those frightful rapids from which we had fondly supposed we were for ever 
 delivered. Almost at the same instant detached arms of the chain of the Andes of 
 Avisca, tending east-south-east, lifted their bluish masses above the forests. As our 
 course lay between north-north-east and north-north-west, we had nothing to fear for 
 our canoes from the neighbourhood of these mineral formations; but their advent, no 
 less than that of the rapids, had thrown a wet blanket over our gaiety, and destroyed, 
 together with the idea that we had cherished of a navigation deprived of all clanger, 
 the probability of a reconciliation between the antagonist chiefs. To the half smile 
 which for an instant had smoothed the wrinkles from their brow, there succeeded that 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUJTCHA. 509 
 
 forbidding and sullen look which, since our departure from Chahuaris, each of them 
 had maintained even in his sleep. 
 
 A bit of nature, which charmed us by its novelty, diverted our thoughts for some 
 minutes from the anxieties which had been re-awakened. On the right shore a massy 
 tree, which we at once recognized for an Erythrina corallodendrum, bent over the 
 waters, and reflected therein, with every exact detail, its rugged trunk, its splendid 
 flowers, and the mass of its foliage. There would have been nothing extraordinary 
 in the mere fact of this tree being found on the spot, had it not been loaded with 
 wonderful fruit of a mixed indigo blue and golden yellow colour, such as we had 
 never seen before on any individual of its species, and which harmonized admirably 
 with its clusters of purple flowers. We had just prepared ourselves to take note of 
 this vegetable wonder, unknown to the learned world, when we saw the beautiful fruits 
 of turquoise and gold detach themselves one by one from the branches, and fly away 
 with a croaking noise, in the form of araraunas, 1 disappearing in the forests of the 
 opposite shore. This was our only adventure during the day. After having followed 
 many windings of the river, and coasted their shores, invariably bordered with cecropias, 
 bamboos, and giant reeds, we reached Quimariato, where we landed to pass the night. 
 A sandy shore, an ajoupa of dried reeds, erected in sight of a rapid which cut the river 
 obliquely, made of this desert site the most soberly composed landscape that we had 
 ever seen. The first of our company to disembark used their right of conquest to 
 instal themselves under the ajoupa; those who followed them settled down in groups 
 round the sheltering stubble; the rest, who were still later to land, and of whom I was 
 one, had no other shelter than the vault of heaven, or that which was so called. After 
 a frugal repast, I stretched myself on the still warm sands, with my head to the south 
 and my feet to the north, and went to sleep while trying to count the stars. 
 
 Those of our rowers who had engaged to accompany us as far as the cataracts of 
 the river, and who out of condescension had kept us company as far as Quimariato, left 
 during the night without inquiring if we had any further need of their services. Their 
 desertion was the first thing that we ascertained on opening our eyes. At first this 
 sort of behaviour appeared to us rather sharp and even uncivil practice; but after reflec- 
 tion we were obliged to admit to ourselves that these children of barbarism, having 
 religiously kept their word and got a hundred times the pay we had agreed to give 
 them, were justified in considering we had no further claims upon them. To compel 
 them to show us any additional courtesy we should first have set them an example of 
 politeness and consideration; but we had been content to pay them for their work 
 
 1 The name of araraunas, given by the natives of Brazil to the larger individuals of the Psittacidm family, is, in 
 the Tupi idiom or hngoa geral of some provinces of that empire, the onomatopoeia of the croaking of these birds. To 
 this generic name the natives add a qualifying adjective to designate the ara with a blue back and a yellow belly, 
 the red ara or macaw, the ara of an indigo-blue colour or dull green, the ara with white cheeks, and other varieties 
 of the kind. Of the name ararauna— which naturalists, I know not why, have cut in two— they have made the words 
 Ara Rauna, by which they designate the individual with a bright blue back and a yellow belly. Their ornithological 
 etiquette is, however, inapplicable. Following the example of the natives of Brazil, they should have given to the 
 individual in question the generic name Ararauna, which of right belongs to it, and have joined the qualifying adjective 
 cceruleus, luleus, or even aureus, to designate this bird either by the azure colour of its back (chape), or the golden yellow 
 of its belly. In the Guarani idiom, from which the Tupi appears to be derived, the blue ara with a yellow belly is 
 called ardrded, and the individual of a red colour, with blue wing and tail feathers, araraguad. 
 
510 PERU. 
 
 without giving them so much as a copper button, a needle, or a bell, as a mark of our 
 affectionate esteem. In turning their backs upon us without so much as saying adieu, 
 they had only copied our own want of manners, and paid us in our own coin. — " Give, 
 give ! " says the proverb. 
 
 The unfortunate consequence of their disappearance was to reduce the complement 
 of each vessel to a single rower and a pilot. Such a crew was insufficient for a naviga- 
 tion which appeared to be still surrounded with danger; but we each did what we could 
 to improve the occasion by taking an active part in the work. The Count de la 
 Blanche-Epine alone raised an outcry at not having more than two men in his canoe. 
 To silence his clamour, which quite deafened us, we united the three rafts end to end, 
 and intrusted the management of them to a single man. This device enabled us to put 
 four rowers at the service of the chief of the French commission, who could now 
 descend the river without fear of hazarding a life so precious to science. 
 
 When we left Quimariato the sun had not yet risen. The landscape was sweetly 
 fresh and calm; everything in the foreground was sharply defined and clear, while the 
 distance was shrouded in the matutinal vapours, which were pierced here and there 
 by the rounded top of a great tree, the chief of the forest, or an angle of the shore 
 overgrown with tall reeds. The sweet confused warbling which proceeded from the 
 mist suggested the woodland scene that it concealed. We left without breakfasting. 
 
 Between Quimariato and Sabeti, where we halted about eleven o'clock, we passed 
 the embouchure of two streams, 1 and descended a dozen rapids more noisy than 
 dangerous. The depth of the river varied from one to three fathoms, and the speed 
 of its current, which we had estimated at eight miles an hour, was less by one-third. 
 
 During our stay for two hours at Sabeti, we lighted a fire and roasted and boiled 
 some bananas. Having partaken of this frugal repast, we awaited the return of the 
 Antis, who had gone into the gorge of Sabeti, through which ran the stream of that 
 name, to beat up the residence of one of their friends, in order to procure the provisions 
 which the exhausted state of our larder rendered necessary. On starting they had 
 promised to bring back a quarter of some sort of venison — say of an ape or a tapir — 
 the vegetable regime to which we had been reduced for several days having become 
 insufficient to recruit our strength. On the other hand, this kind of alimentation, 
 though it only imperfectly satisfied our hunger, and sometimes revolutionized our diges- 
 tive apparatus, left our spirits to enjoy a more perfect light, by which science might 
 have profited if we had been occupied with science; but science — we may confess it 
 now without fear — was the thing with which the united commission was least of all 
 pre-occupied. One of the two chiefs, entirely absorbed by the sense of his misfortune, 
 aspired only to a speedy return to the City of Kings; the other had enough to do with 
 the incessant polishing of his nails, without troubling himself to discover whether the 
 
 1 These streams, of some breadth but little length, have their source on the west flank of the Cordillera of 
 Huilcanota, the extension of which is marked in the charts of Bru6, edit. 1821-25, under the name of the Andes 
 of Cuchoa. This designation, unknown to the Antis Indians and their neighbours, is replaced among them by that 
 of the Sierra de Ticumbinia, which they give to the northern extremity of the chain of Tono y Avisca, an extension of 
 the Cordillera of Huilcanota. The largest of the two streams which flow from that Sierra into the Quillabamba Santa 
 Ana. is called the river of Ticumbinia. 
 
TUN K INI TO PAIIUITCHA. 
 
 511 
 
 Quillabamba Santa Ana bore east or west, or whether the inhabitants of its shores 
 descended in a direct line from Shem, Ham, or Japheth. There remained the "alferez," 
 or acting lieutenant, and the assistant-naturalist, who, by making good use of their 
 observing powers, might have made up for the Idches of their respective patrons, and 
 enriched science with new facts and conclusions: but the lieutenant gave his whole 
 mind to the improvement of his red ape, whom he was endeavouring to civilize with 
 the aid of a switch; and the assistant-naturalist was the victim of a fixed idea — a 
 desideratum he called it — which made him indifferent to everything else. This desider- 
 atum was the capture of the female partner of the king of the gobe-mouches, for 
 
 THE KINO AND QUEEN OF THE GOBI-MOOCHES (a SPECIES OF THE MDSCIOAPA OR FLT-CATCH EKS). 
 
 presentation to the Museum of Paris, that collection not being fortunate enough to 
 possess this interesting dentirostre. The determination, the energy, the patience of 
 the young man were applied to the discovery of the bird in question; all his energies 
 converged to this single end, which, if he had chanced to attain, we tell the reader 
 confidentially, had won for him a high place in the esteem of ornithologists and other 
 competent persons. 1 
 
 While my companions occupied themselves, or whiled away the time, according to 
 their fancy, I, in my own way, studied the effects of light and shade on the landscape : 
 I cut up flowers, I dissected the leaves; I tried to note down the song of the birds 
 and the murmur of the winds; I watched across the intervening space the cirro-cumuli 
 or cotton-balls, those light clouds which, like the doves of Dante, tolan per I'aer dal 
 volar portate. In the midst of these various cares time passed swiftly away. The 
 
 1 To tlie reader who may be interested in tbese researches, we may say, in advance, that it was not until we reached 
 the plains of Sacramento that onr assistant-naturalist was able to procure, by the interposition of the converts of 
 the mission of Sarayacu, a specimen of the queen gobe-mouche, a little bird whose dull plumage contrasts strikingly 
 with the splendid livery of her royal husband. We shall hardly get the credit of having sketched from nature, perched 
 on the same branch, this interesting couple, so rare in European museums and private collections. 
 
512 PERU. 
 
 field of discovery which Ave had left fallow insensibly covered itself with weeds and 
 thistles, without our self-love being affected or our tranquillity at all disturbed. To 
 live as well as we could, to sleep as soundly as possible, to arrive at Sarayacu as 
 speedily as possible — such were our only anxieties. 
 
 Confessions of this kind are rarely made by travellers, whose business it rather is 
 to magnify their achievements, and cut the marble for their own statues. We are, 
 therefore, pleased to think that the reader, if by chance we have in any way displeased 
 him, will forgive us our faults in consideration of our frankness. 
 
 The Antis had now returned from their visit to the gorge of Sabeti, bringing with 
 them, as they had promised, provisions of a more solid kind than we had lately been 
 accustomed to, consisting of the half of a peccary, horribly flavoured, together with some 
 sweet cucumbers (Coloquintidce), and a few bananas and yucca-roots. Hardly had they 
 returned when my companions launched out into the stream. At that moment I was 
 at the entrance of the forest, at some distance from the shore, covetous of certain siliquce 
 which were beyond my reach, and which I declared, like the fox in the fable, not worth 
 any further attempt. I heard the signal' for departure, and ran as fast as I could. 
 My canoe had been left to a single rower. The pilot who had guided it from Quimariato, 
 moved by the attraction of novelty and the need of change which is the characteristic 
 of man in the state of nature, had abandoned his companion, and gone off in one of 
 the other vessels. To have exclaimed against this infraction of established order, would 
 only have been an act of folly; to have demanded of my rower an explanation of the 
 uncivil proceedings of his comrade, would only have been to waste his time. Besides 
 this, I should have found some difficulty in expressing my sense of my outraged rights 
 in the language of this savage, a young fellow of fifteen or sixteen, who would only 
 have stared at me with a wondering air. I therefore entered my canoe and sat down 
 without saying a word, facing towards the prow, leaving the office of pilot, ad interim, 
 to the Antis seated behind me. When we started our party was about 200 paces 
 in advance, and for an hour or so all went on satisfactorily. My young Indian 
 managed his paddle with such dexterity, and passed several rapids so skilfully, as to 
 win my confidence. I had, in fact, began to reconcile myself to the situation, and to 
 think of the employment of several rowers as an unreasonable superfluity, when an 
 alluvial deposit of sand and stones, upon which I had not calculated, barred the bed 
 of the river, and divided into several arms the mass of its waters. The canoes in 
 advance had passed through the widest of these channels without accident; so, turning 
 to my pilot, I indicated with my finger that he was to follow their example. He did 
 his best to follow my instructions, but the current was stronger than his will, and 
 bearing our craft to the left, when we should have kept to the right, drove us along 
 the longest and narrowest of the channels, where the water was engulfed with extreme 
 violence. We nevertheless continued our course safely as far as the projection of a 
 tongue of land at the other end, when I saw with dread an enormous rock, against 
 which the water furiously hurled itself. The obstacle was still far enough off to give 
 me the opportunity of warning my pilot; but the youth did not appear to be concerned. 
 He smiled and shook his head, with an air which signified "There is nothing to fear." 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 513 
 
 His calmness, which I took for ignorance of the danger, rather exasperated me. I 
 gesticulated more earnestly, hut the more I excited myself the more pleasantly the 
 fellow smiled. The current which bore us along seemed to double its speed. We 
 were not more than twenty steps from the rock: I sprang to my feet, and, with my 
 arms extended, prepared myself for the fearful shock. The Antis continued his placid 
 smile. When the canoe, driving furiously with the current, appeared to me to be in 
 close proximity to the rock, I bent forward and stretched out my arms, thinking to 
 use the rock itself as a fulcrum and push our boat off. But I had miscalculated the 
 distance, and my pilot had been quite right in his fearlessness. The canoe glided by 
 the rock without touching it; only, the inclination of my body and the abruptness of 
 my movements at this critical moment upset it, and in an instant I was under the 
 water. On rising to the surface, with my pencil between my teeth, the canoe was 
 floating keel uppermost, and the young Indian, clinging to its side, allowed himself 
 to be towed along with it, I struck out, and having reached the canoe, climbed upon 
 it and sat astride. Till that moment, moved by the instinct of self-preservation, I had 
 nerved myself to meet the danger; I had conquered it, and, like Ajax, I felt myself 
 strong enough to brave the wrath of the gods; but when I saw my sketching-books, 
 my note-books, and my book of rhumbs carried away by the stream, and the box 
 which contained many laboriously-accumulated documents tumbling about in the water, 
 all my stoicism abandoned me, and I screamed like a peacock. My cries were heard 
 by the Count de la Blanche-Epine and the assistant-naturalist, whose canoes had been 
 distanced by the rest, and were rowing near each other. The chief of the French 
 commission turned his head, saw a canoe submerged and two men in danger of 
 drowning, but, overcoming his emotion, tranquilly continued his route. The assistant- 
 naturalist, less master of himself, immediately turned his prow towards us. " Save 
 my papers!" I cried, when he was sufficiently near to catch my meaning. The good 
 fellow instantly put his vessel about, and went in pursuit of my floating lucubra- 
 tions, which he picked up one by one. In a quarter of an hour he brought me all my 
 scribblings, so soaked, however, that I did not dare to touch them, but received them 
 in the skirt of my coat. With the help of his rowers we managed to push my canoe 
 towards the .shore, where we beached it; then having turned it over and floated it 
 again, I resumed my seat, leaving my pilot, whose coolness had not failed him an 
 instant, to take his paddle as before. 
 
 When we had resumed our course, gloomy thoughts possessed me relative to the 
 articles of apparel, the hammock, the mattress, all objects of the first necessity, that 
 I had left at the bottom of the river. This luckless day was for me one of those 
 which ought to be marked with a black cross, in contrast with the white stone proposed 
 by the satirist to distinguish the happy ones: Huuc, Macrine, diem numera meliore 
 lapillo. A single minute had sufficed to work this great disaster, and had transformed 
 me from a respectable traveller, properly provided with stockings and shirt-fronts, to 
 a poor devil reduced to the merest necessities. From happiness to unhappiness or 
 misfortune, says a Quichua proverb, is only a flea-leap. Alas! leaving out of con- 
 sideration the flea, how true this proverb now appeared to me 1 
 
 vol. i. 65 
 
514 
 
 PERU. 
 
 My companions, who had been ashore at Antihuaris for more than an hour, began 
 to be uneasy on account of my prolonged absence. The Count de la Blanche-Epine, 
 by replying carelessly to their questions on the subject — "I believe he has got a 
 drenching" — had excited the most sinister apprehensions, as they told me when I 
 arrived. The assistant -naturalist related, with his accustomed verve, the mischance 
 that had befallen me, and the attitude, like that of Bacchus bestriding his barrel, 
 
 
 PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHOR AFTER HIS SHIPWRECK AT ANTIHUARIS. 
 
 in which he had found me. The fun of this comparison delighted my companions. 
 As for me, I was only half- amused by it; the still fresh remembrance of my losses 
 prevented me from joining in the chorus of my friends, and of laughing as heartily 
 as politeness demanded. 
 
 The place at which we had halted was occupied by a family of Antis, whose 
 temporary dwelling was situated on the skirt of a forest of reeds, at a short distance 
 from the shore. The head of this family, one of the annual visitors to the mission 
 of Cocabambillas, was the godfather of our interpreter Antonio, who, while holding 
 at the baptismal font the last child of the savage, had made the latter promise that 
 he would exchange his original name of Ituriminiqui, as a heretical blot, for that 
 of Santiago, the James of the Spanish calendar. The Antis, like most of his com- 
 patriots, allowed himself to be bajitized, partly from friendship for his godfather, but 
 
TUNKINI TO PARITITCHA. 
 
 515 
 
 more in the hope that his apostasy would be paid for by a present of a few knives, 
 which proved to be the case. Since then the true Christian and the sham convert 
 had lived on the best of terms, visiting each other once a year, and each taking care 
 that his visit should be as profitable as possible. 
 
 When we arrived at Antihuaris, Santiago, accompanied by his wives, his children, 
 and his several friends, was preparing to start for Cocabambillas, in order to exchange, 
 as was his custom, apes and parrots for knives and axes. Our arrival rendered the 
 intended journey unnecessary. In the twinkling of an eye we relieved him of his 
 collection of animals, on more favourable terms than he could have made with the 
 inhabitants of Cocabambillas and Echarati. He behaved like a perfect gentleman to 
 
 AJOUPA (HUT) OF THE ANTIS AND ANTIHCARIS INDIANS. 
 
 us, serving up a large earthen pan as big as a trough, containing a medley of flesh, 
 fish, and vegetables, to recruit our exhausted forces. 
 
 "While eating my dinner I examined with curious interest these indigenes, beneath 
 the shelter of their roof of leaves, upon which the mid-day sun poured torrents of light. 
 That shelter, constructed in haste and for the needs of the moment, simply consisted of 
 a large hurdle made of reeds, and laid on the top of eight poles united by transverse 
 sticks. Under this primitive roof were heaped up in picturesque disorder, the jars, the 
 earthen pans, the bowls, the wooden spoons, the spatulas, and other utensils of an Antis 
 household. The ground was covered with a litter of vegetable pickings, peelings of 
 fruits, fish-bones, meat-bones, and other debris without name, without form, and without 
 colour. Under the roof were suspended by lianas, in order to preserve them from the 
 invading ants, provisions of every kind— quarters of sea-cows' flesh grilled on the embers, 
 fillets of peccary dried in the sun, and slices of tapir's flesh smoked over green wood. 
 Women half-naked came and went between the ajoupa and the river, some carrying 
 water, some cooking, others trying to quiet the children, who, terrified by our beards 
 
516 PERU. 
 
 and our clothing, so different from that of their fathers, cried in the most piteous 
 manner. 
 
 While we made these observations, and continued to regale ourselves with the 
 contents of the earthen dish, the cholo Antonio was trying all his rhetorical skill to 
 persuade his godfather Santiago to accompany us to the territory of the Chontaquiros. 
 At first the savage refused, alleging the length of the journey and the impossibility of 
 leaving his family on the shore of Antihuaris ; but the offer of a few knives overcame his 
 scruples. As soon as his departure had been officially announced, his wives, five in 
 number, began to pack in the canoe of their lord and master choice provisions for the 
 journey, without forgetting the pots and pans necessary for cooking. All this culinary 
 baggage was delicately covered with the leaves and reeds of the balisier as a protection 
 against rain and sun. For my part, I busied myself in making perches for the 
 birds I had purchased. A trapeze was arranged between two poles, that the apes, 
 my new guests, might have the advantage of gymnastic exercise. Santiago had 
 requested twenty-four hours' delay, in order to make his domestic arrangements as a 
 husband and a father, and confide to the friends who would be left under his roof the 
 direction of his household, the education of his children, and the supervision of his 
 wives. The ugliest and oldest of the savages was intrusted with the latter of these 
 duties, resembling the functions of the kislar-agassi in a Turkish harem. On the youngest 
 devolved the duty of maintaining discipline among the children, with full authority to 
 pull their ears in case of bad behaviour and rebellion. The whole household, male and 
 female alike, listened with a serious air to the instructions of their chief, and promised to 
 conform in every point. This ceremony ended, we passed the night in rather a promis- 
 cuous fashion with these honest people, without being very seriously affected by their 
 corporeal emanations, the smell of the animals of the menagerie, or the fumes of the 
 viands with which we were literally surrounded. 
 
 The next morning at nine o'clock we quitted Antihuaris, accompanied by Santiago 
 and his eldest son, a youth of about sixteen years of age, whose elegant figure reminded 
 me of the fine types of adolescence created by the chisel of the Greek statuaries. The 
 father, seated in the stern of the canoe, acted as pilot ; the son took his place forward as 
 rower. Our navigation was signalized by encounters with rapids, large and small, from 
 which we suffered no serious inconvenience, their only effect having been to keep us 
 constantly watchful. These rapids, confined to no particular spot, were not caused, like 
 those below Tunkini, by the slope of the ground or the obstruction of rocks, but by 
 alluvial deposits of sand and stones washed down from the heights, and driven together 
 in such quantities by the action of the currents, as to form islands of two or three 
 hundred yards in circumference. Sometimes these islands assumed the character of an 
 archipelago, and divided the river into numerous channels, through which the volume of 
 waters precipitated itself with turbulent violence. 
 
 Our only occupation, I might say our only resource, during the early hours of the 
 morning, when we yawned enough to dislocate our jaws, was to sketch the most 
 considerable of these rapids, and of certain unimportant affluents of the Quillabamba 
 Santa Ana, which the reader will find in our map, and of Avhich therefore we need not 
 
TUNKJN1 TO PAHU1TCHA. 
 
 517 
 
 further speak. Two short halts in which we indulged under some slight pretext on the 
 shores of the Canapachiari and Sanguianahari enabled me to discover in the thickets 
 and on the shores a bamboo with thorns as black as ebony arranged in a bunch; some 
 ingas (Mimosa) with siliquse or pods of various lengths, and more or less spiral; two 
 varieties of leche-leche (Siphonia); some charming convolvuluses with their many 
 flowers, some of a beautiful golden yellow, others milky white tipped with red ; a great 
 number of GEnotherese 1 with blossoms invariably yellow; some thorny Solaneas of the 
 genus Capsicum ; an Anagallis with purple flowers ; a myrtle with scented berries ; and 
 the Erythroooylon Coca in its wild state. 
 
 On leaving the shores of the river Sanguianahari, our canoes, which we usually kept 
 
 ANTIS DESCENDING A RAPID. 
 
 separate, were formed into a squadron and made a trial of speed. For some minutes 
 this wild regatta presented an animated spectacle. It would have gratified me to 
 make a sketch of the scene, if our Antis, with every stroke of the oar or paddle, had not 
 splashed the water in my face, and so rendered any attempt of the kind impossible. 
 These aspersions, considering the extreme heat, were not absolutely disagreeable; but 
 as we were favoured with them d I'improviste, and did not feel desirous of being 
 soaked from head to foot, instead of awaking our gratitude, they only tried our 
 patience and excited our ill-humour. 
 
 It was otherwise with our winged companions on the raft, on whom this artificial 
 rain conferred a momentary pleasure. Hoccos (the crax or curassow-bird), pauxis, and 
 penelopes, squatted on their perch and opened voluptuously their wings to enjoy the 
 
 1 On the shores of the little river of Saniriato alone, where six days before we hail passed an entire day, perishing of 
 hunger and awaiting the return of the Antis who had gone to procure food, we found, besides other plants, eleven varieties 
 of (Enothera with yellow blossoms, of which there are now seventeen varieties. Hence the surname of the chiendent du. 
 Quillabamba Santa Ana, given by us to that Onograria. 
 
518 
 
 PERU. 
 
 freshness of the douche. The toucans clacked their huge beaks, and the aras, parrots, 
 and perroquets, screeched a harsh chorus. All seemed emulous to show the pleasure 
 they felt, except the apes, who alone were perfectly quiet. A remark that I had often 
 occasion to make is inserted here, for the sake of such zoologists as it may interest. 
 Whenever, for any reason, the birds of the parrot species croaked in unison, the 
 monkeys behaved like fools or madmen. They ground their teeth, grew excited, 
 
 EETTHROXTLON COCA. 
 
 struck their hands together, and made horrible grimaces. At that moment, if by chance 
 one of the aras had his back turned, the angriest of the quadrumana would seize him 
 by his long tail-feathers and drag at him, until his enemy, by a stroke of his beak, made 
 him let go. Frequently, however, the tail of the parrot was left in the monkey's hand. 
 The Antis charged with the management of the raft and the care of the menagerie was 
 obliged to put an end to these continual attacks by the argument of the switch. But 
 the aggressor was an ape, and the man who, while he slept, was relieved of the parasites 
 in his hair by that animal, feared to lose his services if he too seriously offended him. 
 During the leisure of that day's navigation our attention was several times attracted 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 
 
 519 
 
 by a singular noise. We had heard it previously on the other side of Tunkini, but only 
 at night-time, and always mingled with the roar of the wind and the crash of the 
 tempest. Now, therefore, when the sky was clear and a profound calm reigned around, 
 it sounded the more strange, resembling the discharge of artillery deadened by distance. 
 This noise, which, whenever it occurred, had struck my companions with superstitious 
 terror, was caused by the fall of decayed trees, or such as had reached their full 
 growth, and, their roots being arrested by the living rock, had rotted under the 
 continual oozing from the leaves, until a breath of wind was sufficient to determine the 
 fall of the trunk. In thus falling, they crashed down upon the trees and shrubs that 
 had grown under their shadow, and dragged violently out of the ground the lianas 
 
 A MENAGERIE ON A HAFT. 
 
 and sarmentous plants which had, for many long years, found in their sturdy forms 
 a natural support. In the calm of these solitudes, and in that pure atmosphere, the 
 noise of their fall, augmented by the echoes, might be heard for several miles. 
 
 A little before sunset we landed at Putucuato, where we found reeds enough to 
 construct huts and mattresses of a more comfortable kind than those we had been 
 accustomed to prepare. If we supped on nothing more substantial than boiled 
 bananas — the peccary obtained from the Antis seeming to us a little too highly flavoured 
 — our lodging and sleeping accommodation were so satisfactory that we did not wake 
 till sunrise. Leaving Putucuato at six o'clock, we had arrived at eleven off the 
 embouchure of the river Camisia, the largest affluent of the Quillabamba Santa Ana that 
 we had seen since we left Chahuaris. The two hours' halt that we made to dine enabled 
 us to make a careful survey of the mouth of this river, of which some map-makers have 
 laid down the presumed course without always designating it by the name which it 
 bears at its confluence with the Quillabamba Santa Ana. Will these gentlemen forgive 
 me for a short digression? 
 
520 PERU. 
 
 When a traveller has been able to study at leisure, instead of observing cursorily, 
 the orographic framework of the American continents, the direction of the principal 
 mountain-chains and their ramifications, the rise of the water-courses which furrow 
 them, and the juncture of these with other rivers, he acquires by that study a certain 
 amount of practical experience, a certainty of coup d'oell, which enables him, in some 
 degree, to form an opinion at first sight as to the probable length of the river, whether 
 its course is more or less tortuous, whether its bed is strewn with rocks or free of 
 obstacles. The colour of the water, the height of the shores, the nature of the soil in 
 their neighbourhood, and even the vegetable species which grow there, are all indices 
 Avhich such a traveller consults, and which rarely deceive him. So, the savage who 
 roams the forests examines the grass, the moss, the leaves, and guesses from signs 
 which none but himself could appreciate, whether he is on the track of friends or 
 enemies, and the probable lapse of time since they passed. The works of the American 
 novelist Fenimore Cooper may be consulted for ample details of this kind. 
 
 We do not indeed claim for ourselves that amount of practical tact and infallibility 
 of coup d'oeil and judgment which almost resembles prescience. But sixteen years' 
 experience in travelling, twelve of which have been devoted to the study of the places 
 of which Ave are now speaking, have developed in us certain faculties of observation, 
 which can neither be imparted by reading travels or studying maps. Thus, we had no 
 sooner cast a glance at the embouchure of the Camisia, than the colour of its waters and 
 the constancy of its course, which, so far as visible — say, for about three-quarters of a 
 mile — preserved an east-south-easterly direction, satisfied us that this affluent of the 
 Quillabamba Santa Ana had come from a greater distance than any of the tributary 
 streams Ave had hitherto passed. Noav let us hear what the Antis have to say about 
 this river. If we chose to folloAV the example that others have set, .we might affirm, 
 without the least fear of being contradicted, that, after enduring fatigues and risking 
 dangers Avithout number, we had made the discovery unaided. But we feel nothing but 
 repugnance for this kind of vain-boasting, and prefer to render honour to whomsoever 
 the honour of the discovery is due. Reddite qucu sunt Ccesaris, Ccesarl; et quw sunt 
 Dei, Deo, says the gospel. 
 
 "At the distance of three miles from its embouchure, the river Camisia, which 
 preserves a constant course betAveen east and south, Aoavs betAveen high shores, covered 
 Avith a thick vegetation. A few miles further these shores are succeeded by perpen- 
 dicular rocks; the course of the river presents but few sinuosities, and its current is 
 almost imperceptible except off Tunkini, Avhere tAvo cataracts are caused by the rocks 
 Avhich obstruct its bed. Beyond this spot the river again becomes calm, and Aoavs from 
 north to south, betAveen a double line of forests, alternating with steep shores. The 
 only affluents known are two or three unimportant streams floAving from the west. The 
 Pucapacuris Indians inhabit both shores, and cross the river by means of rafts. These 
 indigenes maintain friendly relations Avith the Impetiniris, Avho live to the north of 
 their territory; and communicate on the south with the Tuyneris of the river Chaupimayo, 
 the Huatchipayris of the river Conispata, and the Siriniris of the river Coni or 
 Marcapata. All these Indians go naked, speak the same language, and have similar 
 
vol. i. 
 
TUN KIN I TO PARUITCHA. 
 
 523 
 
 customs. The Pucapacuris are at open warfare with the Antis and Chontaquiros of the 
 Quillabamba Santa Ana." 
 
 As the net-work of streams in the eleven valleys which extend between Apolobamba 
 and Santa Ana Avas so familiar to us, as we have on a former occasion 1 taken a passing 
 glance at the sources of the Mapacho or Paucartampu, and as the direction of that 
 river, which certainly flows towards the north-north-east, had struck us no less than 
 the approximation of the two mountain-chains of Tono and Avisca between which 
 that river is entrenched, we could not hesitate in believing that the river Camisia, 
 now before us, was the same that we had seen at its source in a little circular lake 
 surrounded with snows on our way to Marcapata. It is for geographers to discuss 
 our opinion or to admit the fact without dispute as they deem fit. 
 
 SOURCE OF THE MAP ACHO-PAUCAF.T AMPU-C AMISI A. 
 
 While our people cleared up the pots and kettles, I explored the shore, and collected 
 in shady places two varieties of ferns — one Adiantum with large leaves — and some new 
 CEnotherece. Cotton-trees, figs, and Mimosie with large pods, as well as gum-trees, grew 
 at the entrance of the wood. In dry and sandy places the Gynerium saccharoides 
 formed vast masses of underwood, at the edge of which grew dwarf convolvuluses 
 of a pale pink colour, and an abundance of a small-leaved vervain with a loose spike 
 and the odour of citron. I had scarcely had time to remark that in this place the 
 vegetation of the Quillabamba Santa Ana and its affluent the Camisia was wanting in 
 any special character, when the call to re-embark was heard. In five minutes we were 
 once more floating clown the stream. 
 
 Our navigation that day was marked by nothing particularly noticeable. We 
 descended five or six rapids, and passed an island of sand and pebbles, on which grew 
 large reeds, and the length of which we estimated at about three miles. In the evening 
 
 1 Une expedition malheureuse (an unfortunate expedition): Scenes and Landscapes in the Andes, 2d series, 1861. 
 
524 PERU. 
 
 we halted at a place called Quintachiri, which we left again at daybreak next morning. 
 During that second day's course we descended nineteen rapids and passed many tribu- 
 taries to the great river, both on the right and left, the most considerable of which 
 was the Rio de Picha, the source of which is on the eastern flank of the central 
 Cordillera. At one o'clock we landed at Bitiricaya, opposite an ajoupa built of reeds, 
 situated near a little river which gives its name to the shore at that spot, and where 
 we had resolved to finish the day. There also was the limit of the Antis territory and 
 the commencement of that of the Chontaquiros. 
 
 While waiting for the proprietor of the ajoupa, an Antis by birth and in the 
 prime of manhood, to introduce us to the Chontaquiros who were wandering in the 
 neighbourhood accompanied by their wives and children, he courteously invited us 
 under his roof to have something to eat and drink. As nothing could be more 
 agreeable to us, we accepted the invitation without staying to be entreated. As this 
 Antis was the last of his race we should ever see, we inquired his name, that we might 
 preserve it in our note-book. The honest fellow called himself Quientipucarihua. 
 If this name, which we made him repeat several times before venturing to write it, 
 should seem to the reader too harsh to be pronounced, he may please himself, without 
 at all impairing my narrative, by substituting for it the more euphonious one of Arthur. 
 
 Our host, having set before us an earthen dish of food and a jug of chicha, 1 went 
 out in search of the Chontaquiros, who were fishing, he said, near at hand. Our 
 rowers profited by his absence to make a raid upon the fruits and sugar-canes that 
 he had in store, sharing them one among another like brothers, and greedily devouring 
 them. When the Antis returned the whole was consumed. Two Chontaquiros whom 
 he had met with surprised us by the boldness of their bearing. They were athletic, 
 wide-awake looking fellows. The sac they wore was shorter than that of the Antis, 
 while their heads were hooded with a sort of cowl which preserved both their head 
 and shoulders from the sun. Their faces were striped with black lines; their eyes 
 encircled with red paint in the fashion of spectacles; besides which, their hands and 
 arms up to the elbow, as well as their feet and legs as high as the knee, Avere 
 decorated with a coat of black paint obtained from the fruit of the genipahua. One 
 might have taken them for two hooded demons, with the gauntlets of a gendarme 
 and the boots of a groom. After the usual compliments wc opened a conversation 
 with these strangers on the subject which most interested us. For two knives each 
 they undertook to be our guides to Sipa, a place inhabited by some of their people, 
 
 1 To the chicha brewed from maize (acca), used by the Quichuas of the Sierra Nevada, has succeeded among the Antis 
 a chicha brewed from the roots of the yucca {Jatropha Manioc), which is common to theui and the Chontaquiros. The 
 process of manufacturing this drink, altogether differing from that of which we have given the recipe in our account of 
 Arequipa, is worth the trouble of an explanation. At the period when the loots of the Eupborbiaceoe have reached 
 their maturity the Antis women collect and keep them in a heap for some days. Then they peel them, throw them into 
 a jar of water, and boil them till they are broken or almost reduced to a pulp. This thick broth is stirred with a spatula, 
 and has the consistency and colour of potato soup. At this stage the chicha is taken from the fire, set aside to cool, and 
 very soon begins to ferment. When served it is sufficient to put in a calabash, tilled with water, two or three handfuls 
 of this somewhat sour soup, and by a repeated contraction of the hand and fingers to incorporate its molecules with the 
 river water in the vessel. After some minutes of this kneading or mixing, the paste is dissolved, and acquires the consistency 
 of thin cream. The calabash then makes the round of the company, each swallowing five or six mouthfuls from the 
 fountainhead, so to speak, and passing it on to his neighbour. 
 
Lj ' ; 
 
 PCCAPACUBI8 INDIANS. 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 
 
 527 
 
 where we should find more rowers than we should need for the further prosecution of 
 our journey. This arrangement having been concluded to our mutual satisfaction, we 
 distributed some trifling articles among our new acquaintances, in return for which they 
 gave us some excellent fish which they had just caught. We handed this fish over to 
 our people that they might prepare it for supper in their own fashion, which consisted 
 in cutting into pieces the siluridan or the acanthopterygian individual, and boiling it 
 without salt or pepper in a kettle of water. 
 
 Kmym 
 
 ' - 
 
 
 AN ANTIS AJOUPA AT BITIRICAYA. 
 
 Our two recruits had returned to their encampment, carrying off with them the 
 knives which, according to custom, we had given them in advance, and which they 
 flashed in the sun with manifest pleasure. An hour had passed since their departure, 
 and we were chatting with our Ant is about these natives, for whom they seemed to 
 have but little sympathy, when Ave were interrupted by a hubbub of savage voices and 
 guttural exclamations. Almost immediately afterwards a dozen Chontaquiros, followed 
 by women, children, and dogs, came out of the forest of reeds, which extended as far 
 as the shore at this spot, and directed their course towards us. At their head marched, 
 between the two Chontaquiros whom we had hired, and who appeared to serve him 
 as guides, an individual some thirty years old, whose figure might be compared to 
 that of an antique faun, daubed with red and black, and with boots so well painted 
 that he might have disputed with the Greek hero the epithet of Euknemides Achaioi, 
 
528 
 
 PERU. 
 
 used by old Homer. Tins unknown personage having saluted us in Spanish with 
 the sacramental "Buen ilia d Vds setiores," instantly inquired in the idiom of the 
 Quichuas, which he spoke, if not with purity, at least with sufficient clearness to make 
 himself understood, what motive had brought us to these parts. One of our cholos 
 satisfied his curiosity in this respect. The appearance of a savage so learned as to 
 speak two languages besides his own, seemed to us such a prodigy that we asked for 
 some information about him. We were told that this polyglot, the object of our 
 admiration, was named Jeronimo, and that he had lived for a long time at the mission 
 of Sarayacu, where the priests had instructed him in the articles of their faith. This 
 
 INTERVIEW WITH THE C H ONT A QB IROS INDIANS INTRODUCED ON THE SHORE AT EITIRICATA. 
 
 information, while greatly surprising us, appeared to be of happy augury for the future 
 success of our journey. 
 
 The bases of a new arrangement were agreed upon between us and Jeronimo the 
 tattooed Christian, and before the meeting came to an end the matter was settled. 
 For a payment of three knives to each man he engaged, in the name of his companions, 
 to guide ns not merely to Sipa, but even as far as Paruitcha, a place about 180 miles 
 distant, where the territory of the Chontaquiros ended, and that of the Conibo nation 
 commenced. Besides his functions as chief of the staff, Jeronimo undertook those of 
 interpreter, to facilitate our relations with his friends, and finally to introduce us 
 to the Conibos. 
 
 Our encounter with this man Avas a favour of Fortune of which we fully appreciated 
 the value. We therefore tried all we could to attach him to us body and soul. From 
 the manner in which he responded to our advances, and, above all, from his acceptance 
 of our little presents, we flattered ourselves that we had succeeded in our wish. 
 
 Since the Chontaquiros had entered on the scene the manners of our Antis rowers 
 had completely changed. A respectful silence had succeeded to their merry gossip; 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 529 
 
 and, shrinking into the corner of the ajonpa, they preserved, in the presence of the 
 new-comers, a humble and almost timid attitude. The Chontaquiros, on the contrary, 
 went and came with their noses in the air, speaking loudly and boldly, without appear- 
 ing to notice the presence of our ancient allies. If an Antis was by chance in their 
 way, they brushed past him and even elbowed him; but without affectation, as one 
 might treat a being or a thing of no importance. From this manner of proceeding it 
 was easy to recognize, besides the inherent foppery of the individual, the preponderance 
 of the one nation over the other. 
 
 This real or pretended superiority of the Chontaquiros was evidently well understood 
 by their dogs, who, instead of fraternizing with the dogs of the Antis, kept them at a 
 respectful distance, and affected to turn their backs on them. If one of the latter 
 permitted himself the least familiarity, they regarded it as an insult, and facing round, 
 showed the audacious intruder two flashing eyes and teeth ready to bite. 
 
 This pantomime, with which a superficial observer must have been highly amused, 
 carried us back in thought, not unmixed with melancholy, to the period, forty years 
 previously, when the Jesuit father Eocamora, descending the river on which Ave were 
 now voyaging, expi-essed his wonder, in a work of only a few pages, at the former 
 predominance of the Antis over the neighbouring nations. 1 Worthy Father Eocamora! 
 In seeing them so fallen from their past splendour he probably reflected, as we have 
 done, that in this world, where the happiness of man seems to be the plaything of 
 chance, what Providence gives him with one hand, he takes from him with the 
 other. 
 
 While appearing resigned to the humble position in which circumstances had placed 
 them, the Antis took advantage of the few moments that the Chontaquiros left them 
 alone in the ajoupa to whisper in our ears some insinuation not remarkable for its 
 charity towards their rivals. "Beware of the Chontaquiros; they are thieves," they 
 had said to our interpreter Antonio. In this epithet, which was not justified by 
 anything that had occurred, we saw nothing but childish malice and jealousy of our 
 new acquaintances, on account of the consideration we had shown for them beyond 
 what we had exhibited in their own case. 
 
 That indifference on our part appeared to wound our ally Santiago, who took 
 advantage of the circumstance to express his desire to return to Antihuaris, under 
 the pretence that his services and those of his son would henceforth not be required. 
 As this was perfectly true in itself, we had nothing to say against his proposal, but 
 allowed him to make his preparations for departure. With the assistance of his son 
 and his friends he very soon constructed a callapeo, a kind of small raft, sufficient to 
 carry him with his provision of reeds, jars, and crockery, purchased of our host 
 Quientipucarihua. AVhile going in and out, and notwithstanding a certain amount of 
 surveillance of which he was the object on the jiart of the Chontaquiros, who seemed 
 to be puzzled by his sudden departure, he found opportunities to relate to his compeer 
 
 1 The little work here referred to is entitled Razon del viage que hizo en 1S05 el. R. P. Rocamora del Convento de 
 Motjuehua. It is a simple and touching narrative. We much regret that we are not able to embody it in our narrative, 
 that the reader might have the pleasure of perusiug it 
 
 vol. i. 67 
 
530 PERU. 
 
 Antonio a somewhat tragical historiette, which the latter repeated to us on the 
 spot. 
 
 Jeronimo, the object of our confidence and sympathies — Jeronimo, whom from 
 the very first we had treated as a friend, almost as a brother, and in whose company 
 we were about to undertake a long journey — this Jeronimo had assassinated a defence- 
 less old man, his spiritual father and benefactor, and this man was a consecrated 
 person, which added greatly to the enormity of his crime. Santiago's account of the 
 circumstances was as follows. 
 
 A Franciscan monk, Father Bruno, had come from the apostolic college of Ocopa, 
 to establish himself at Sarayacu, with the intention of assisting the missionaries in 
 their work of spreading the faith. Some time after his arrival the new apostle went 
 on a journey of observation among the heathen Indians, and, ascending the river 
 Ucayali-Apu-Paro as far as the territory of the Chontaquiros, had met with Jeronimo, 
 who dwelt then, as he did at the present time, in the quebrada of Sicotcha. Charmed 
 with the mildness and affable manners of the savage, Father Bruno conceived an 
 affection for him, and persuaded him to embrace the Christian religion. The young 
 man had repudiated his ancestral name of Huitsi for that of Jerome/ which the mis- 
 sionary conferred on him at his baptism. For three years he had lived at Sarayacu, 
 where his patron had made him bell-ringer. One day, when the man of God was 
 occupied with his project of founding a mission among the Chontaquiros, Jeronimo 
 offered to accompany him as guide, and assured him of the general conversion of the 
 men of his nation. Father Bruno, trusting in the good faith of his protegd, provided 
 himself with axes, knives, glass beads, and similar trifles likely to conciliate the good 
 graces of the savages, and ascended the river as far as the quebrada of Sicotcha, 
 whither Jeronimo had conducted him, and where he perished in an ambuscade. The 
 first arrow which pierced the body of the missionary was said to be shot from the 
 bow of his convert. 1 
 
 This news, which we had been far from expecting, deprived us for a moment of the 
 power of speech. A little recovered from our stupor, we begged our dragoman to 
 question his informant further on certain points of the sad story which had seemed to us 
 obscure. But the latter, whom the sidelong glances of the Chontaquiros had disquieted, 
 positively refused to satisfy us, and, taking a hasty leave, re-embarked in his canoe, 
 leaving to his son the management of the callapeo. To return to Antihuaris against 
 the current, by hugging the shore, was a six days' labour. Assisted by the current in 
 coming down, we had made the journey in twenty-seven hours. 
 
 Having failed to obtain the information we required from the Antis Santiago, we 
 requested Antonio to question our host Quientipucarihua as adroitly as he could, and 
 
 1 It chanced, at a subsequent period, that we had an opportunity of questiouiug on this subject the venerable 
 prifet apostolique of the Ucayali missions, who had probably a crow to pluck with the late Father Bruno, for he 
 contented himself by replying, with a shrug of the shoulders and an expression of disdain, Era un aventurero ("He 
 was an adventurer"). As to the death of the missionary, we feel safe in attributing it, knowing in their every secret 
 detail the life of the missions, to an act of personal vengeance on the part of the aforesaid Jeronimo, in consequence 
 of the bodily chastisement which his protector had inflicted on him, rather than to a desire to appropriate the toys 
 or other property of Father Bruno. 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 531 
 
 ascertain whether the account of Father Bruno was a slander or otherwise. But the 
 diplomacy of our interpreter failed before the reserve of the savage. To every question 
 on the subject Quientipucarihua replied with a discreet smile, a shake of the head, and 
 the word Tchontaquiro (Chontaquiro) pronounced in the manner of his countrymen. 
 To the undiscerning such a reply might appear a little unintelligible ; but a student of 
 Lavater, an adept in physiognomical science, could not fail to translate the smile, the 
 shake of the head, and the manner in which that word of four syllables was uttered, by 
 some such phrase as the following: The Chontaquiros are arrant canaille, perhaps worse; 
 and if I say nothing more about them, it is because I do not choose to have any quarrel 
 with them. 
 
 We were compelled to rest satisfied with such vague information as we had got. 
 During the next day, the whole of which we passed in the ajoupa of Bitiricaya, in 
 company with the Chontaquiros, whose wives had gone to seek provisions for the 
 journey, we occupied ourselves with putting our papers in order, and penning a few 
 lines concerning the honest Antis, who for sixteen days had shared in our fatigues, 
 our dangers, our misery, and more than once had prevented us from dying of hunger. 
 We have now only to trace with a pen these pencilled lines, half effaced by the storms 
 of rain and the shipwrecks which they have survived, to render them legible, and 
 present them to the reader. 
 
 The consanguinity of the Antis of the eastern valleys with the Quichuas of the Sierra 
 Nevada — a consanguinity which the resemblance of type and costume, 1 and the radicals 
 and terminations of a large number of Avords common to the two idioms, suggests to the 
 least attentive observer — has not, so far as we know, exercised the sagacity of any 
 traveller, or the erudition of any ethnologist. It is true that down to the present time 
 these gentlemen have had so much to do, that they have, literally speaking, not had the 
 time to devote themselves to these subjects. We will therefore take upon ourselves 
 to speak for them; and, by way of commencement, consider the Antis as a small fraction 
 of those Indo-Mexican hordes, 2 of which we have spoken in our monograph on the Incas. 
 We pointed out that these immigrants from the northern hemisphere wandered across 
 the southern continent in separate bodies, and during a period which it would not be 
 easy to determine, but which must be understood to comprise many ages, settled here 
 and there at their pleasure, or according to the ruling of circumstances, and moved else- 
 
 1 We are speaking here of the Quichuas before the Conquest, who wore the loose tunic of the Mexicans and the Incas; 
 not of the Quichuas of our day, whose coat with three skirts, short breeches with large knee-ornaments, and triangular 
 braguette, recalls the Spanish fashions of the seventeenth century. 
 
 2 The great variety of types apparently presented by the great Indo-Mexican family may be boldly traced, as we have 
 previously remarked, to two fixed and primordial types — the Irano-Aryan, to which we have assigued the r61e of civilizer, 
 and the Mongol or Tatar, which we have considered the colonizing element. The supposed Carib, Tupi, Ouarani, and 
 other races are only, in our opinion, various genera derived from the two above-named mother-families. Among the 
 nations of Peru the first of these types is proper only to the Collahuas, ancestors of the Aymaras, the Quichuas, the Antis, 
 the Chontaquiros, and two or three tribes scattered through the Yungas or valleys of Bolivia. If this type, little known 
 to South America, characterizes almost exclusively, on the contrary, the Indians of the northern continent, it is because 
 the latter, placed in climatological conditions somewhat similar to those in the midst of which their ancestors lived for 
 ages, and never having passed in their migrations the limits of the northern hemisphere, have been able to preserve more 
 faithfully than the wandering hordes of their family the physical character and certain moral qualities of the race from 
 which they have sprung. 
 
532 PERU. 
 
 where when the growth of their numbers had impoverished the surrounding lands and 
 diminished their means of subsistence. 1 Whilst the advanced guard of these immigrants 
 reached the mountain chain of the Andes and took possession of its summits, other 
 hordes, following in their wake, and spreading along the flanks and the foot of the same 
 mountain chain, established themselves on the banks of the rivers which everywhere 
 furrowed them, and, changing their nature as they changed their climate, ceased to be 
 troglodytes as of old, and became ichthyophagists. It is probable that the Antis were 
 one of these latter hordes ; but we must assuredly assign to the first the ancient nation 
 of the Collahuas, 2 and their successors, the Aymaras and Quichuas. 
 
 So far, the establishment of the Quichuas on the plateaux of the Cordilleras, and 
 that of the Antis at the foot of the mountain chain, does not in any degree explain the 
 mutual resemblance of these indigenes, and, notwithstanding the typical portraits with 
 which our text is illustrated, a reader might object that these nations, separated by a 
 difficult region of an average breadth of 180 miles, might exist for many ages, as they 
 do at this hour, without ever having approached each other, and that their resemblance 
 is simply an accident. In the first place, we grant nothing to chance in ethnology. 
 Then, let the reader who thinks the argument, which it is for us to rebut, unanswerable, 
 suppose with us for a moment — and there is nothing gratuitous in the supposition — 
 that in the beginning, that is to say on their arrival, which dates from a more remote 
 period than is generally believed, the Antis and Quichuas, instead of being separated by 
 the breadth of the Andes, formed one single nation divided into tribes, and like us, per- 
 haps, he will see some logical force in the hypothesis that the appearance of the Children 
 of the Sun, and the pressure which the ever-increasing circle of their conquerors exerted 
 upon neighbour nations — a pressure which forced back in the east the nation of Masquis 3 
 (now the Mascas); in the north, west, and south, the nation of the Collahuas- Aymaras, 4 
 and which pushed the Canas y Canchis from the heart of the Sierra to the eastern flank 
 of the Andes, must also have acted upon the Antis as it acted on their neighbours, 
 
 1 In the case of these peoples, to whom culture was repugnant rather than unknown, as certain travellers have 
 insinuated, the material resources of existence came to be in ancient times what they still are in our day — the object of 
 a constant pre-occupation, and the end of a thousand expedients. Hence the separation of the nation into tribes, and 
 of the tribes into families, and those periodical disjunctive migrations when fish and game grew scarce in the territory 
 they had chosen. The political axiom, divide and conquer, might have originated among these indigenes, who have cer- 
 tainly put it into practice after every interval of half a century. 
 
 2 This nation, one of the most ancient of Upper Mexico, and which historians designate by the names of Acolhucs, 
 Acolhuas, peoples of Cul/iua or of Culhuacan, arrived in Peru many ages before the establishment of the Incas, under the 
 name of Collas, Collahuas, Collahuinos, and in fine, people of Collao (regiou of punas or plateaux). These people were the 
 ancestors of the Aymara-Quichua nation, and we attribute to them, rightly or wrongly, the erection of the monuments of 
 Collao, now in ruins or buried out of sight, and of which the remains at Tiahuauacu are the best preserved specimen. 
 
 3 The territory of the Masquis or Mascas, and of their allies the Chilquis (now Chilcas , was situated from thirty to 
 forty miles south-south-west of Cuzco, between the provinces of Paruro and Tinta. The Chilcas and Mascas had only to 
 follow the course of the river Apunmac, setting out between the fourteenth to the tenth degree of latitude, to gain the region 
 of Pajonal, and escape the domination of the Incas. Since the seventeenth century they formed oue of the numerous tribes 
 of the Antis or Catupas nation, among whom the missionaries recruited many converts for then' missions of the "Twelve 
 Apostles" and the Salt Mountain (cerro de la Sal), which comprised some fifty villages. Now that all these tribes are 
 extinct, and that we should vainly look for any trace of them on the river shores of the Pajonal which they inhabited, 
 and from which the majority of them took their name, the Antis nation bears the threefold designation of Antis and 
 Cam pas y Mascas. 
 
 4 In our monograph of the Incas we have traced the successive removals of this nation, now relegated to Bolivia. 
 

 ■ ' 
 
 
 I 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 535 
 
 and have dispossessed them at the same time as it did the latter of the territory they 
 had so long occupied. 
 
 In admitting from the beginning this near neighbourhood of the Antis and 
 Quichuas, the cause of their resemblance is sufficiently explained, and the dissimilari- 
 ties which the idiom and the manners and customs of the two nations may present 
 at the present time, are seen to be nothing but the consequence of their separation, 
 which dates back more than eight centuries. 
 
 If, nevertheless, our aforesaid reader obstinately adheres to his opinion, tenasc 
 propositi, and rejects as unlikely all idea of contact between the two nations, on the 
 ground of the distance which separates them, the indifference, or — better for his views 
 — the ignorance of themselves in which they live, and the differences which they present, 
 we must refer to the historiographers of the Conquest to clear up the question. Then, 
 however small his faith in the narratives of Garcilaso and Hen-era, in the recitals — 
 printed or in manuscript — of the monks of different orders and the Jesuit fathers, of 
 the gold explorers and adventurers of the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth 
 centuries — recitals with which the archives of the convents of Peru are filled to over- 
 flowing — the objector will be compelled to submit to the evidence, and admit, not only 
 an approximation, but actual contact, and almost a fusion of the Antis with the 
 Quichuas. 
 
 According to Garcilaso, whose character of Inca, if it did not qualify him as a 
 writer, certainly made him well-informed as to the acts and achievements of his 
 ancestors, the first warlike expedition attempted by the Children of the Sun against 
 the nations which, under the generic name of Antis or Chunchos, inhabited the country 
 on the eastern flank of the Andes (in Quichua Antis), took place in the time of 
 the Inca Rocca, the sixth sovereign of the dynasty, who flourished in the middle of the 
 thirteenth century. 
 
 Yahuar-Huacac, the eldest son of that emperor, appointed by him generalissimo of 
 the forces, invaded, at the head of 15,000 men, the valleys of Pillcopata, Tono, Havisca, 
 and Paucartampu, which he subjugated and annexed to the empire. Fortresses 
 (pnearas) were built on the frontier of the conquered countries; and a garrison was left 
 to keep the enemy in subjection, and protect the inhabitants of the villages that were 
 soon established; and things remained on this footing until the death of the Inca Rocca. 
 Yahuar-Huacac, who succeeded him, had reigned but a short time when he was 
 deposed by his subjects, who elected his son Huiracocha to the vacant throne. 
 
 During two centuries the conquests of the emperors extended to the north, the 
 south, and the west of the Sierra, while that already made on the eastern side of the 
 Andes was so disregarded, and at length forgotten, that we search in vain for any 
 mention of it in the works of Spanish authors. 
 
 In the early part of the fifteenth century, the Inca Yupanqui, the tenth of the 
 dynasty, resumed the series of conquests of his great-great-grandfather Rocca, at the 
 point where the latter had left them. He despatched into the eastern valleys an army 
 of 10,000 men, commanded by one of his relations. Two years were employed in the 
 construction of rafts to convey the troops, with their munitions of war and provisions, 
 
536 PERU. 
 
 at the end of which time the army embarked on the great river, which the conquered 
 nations call indifferently the Mano, Tono, and Opotari, but which, on account of its 
 many windings, Yahuar-Huacac had formerly named the Amaru-Mayu, river of the 
 Serpent. 1 After enduring much danger and fatigue in a climate to which they were 
 unaccustomed, and engaging in many bloody encounters with the natives who peopled 
 the two shores of the Amaru-Mayu, the latter were defeated and became tributaries to 
 the Incas. 2 The army of Yupanqui, now reduced to a thousand men, struck across the 
 country towards the province of the Musus (the Moxos of the present day), who then 
 inhabited the left shore of the Beni. Not daring to attack these natives with the small 
 force at his disposal, the adventurous chief detei-mined to win them by persuasion, and 
 he succeeded in his design. While the Quichuas contracted alliances with the Musus 
 by marrying their daughters, the Musus sent to Cuzco an embassage of the principal 
 persons of their nation, to render homage to the chief of the empire, and beg him to 
 ratify the treaty concluded between the two nations. These ambassadors, who had 
 made their way to Cuzco through the valleys of Carabaya, found the roads so bad, that 
 on their return they passed through Bolivia, embarking on the river Beni, and reaching 
 their own territory by the descent of that stream. 
 
 Dating from this epoch, the relations of the Quichuas with the great family of the 
 Antis 3 and that of the Musus were simply extended and consolidated. At various 
 intervals troops of indigenes from the Sierra, guided by the sons or relations of Yupanqui 
 and the emperors who succeeded him, abandoned their homes to cross the Andes, and 
 extend their relations towards the east. About the period 1529-30, at the moment 
 when the last chiefs of the Incasiac race, who had directed these partial migrations, 
 were arranging to return into the Sierra Nevada, the news of the death of Huayna Capac 
 reached them, and almost at the same time they heard of the arrival of the Spaniards 
 and the fall of the empire. They then gave up all idea of returning home, and having 
 established themselves definitively in the neighbourhood of their allies, they never again 
 saw their ancient territory. 
 
 So far from the success of the Spanish conquest causing these migrations to cease, 
 it gave to them a new impulse, with this difference, that where the Incas had only kept 
 in view the aggrandizement of their territory and the consolidation of their power, the 
 Spaniards saw a means of enriching themselves. The fabulous renown of the empires 
 of Enim and Paiititi, of Avhich the country of the Musus was believed to form the centre, 
 had reached their ears, magnified by time and distance, and by the exaggeration natural 
 to primitive peoples. The remembrance of the expeditions of the Inca Yupanqui and 
 
 1 Tliis river is the Madre de Dios of the Spaniards. This name was given to it on the occasion of a statuette of the 
 Virgin Mary Leing found on its shores, where the Huatchipayris Indians, after an attack on the hacienda of Conispata, 
 which then belonged to the Jesuits, had thrown it as an object of no value to them. 
 
 2 Their tribute, which consisted of precious and fragrant woods, mineral substances, gold in dust and grains from the 
 lavaderos, perfumes, various coloured feathers, cotton, coca, wax, honey, rare or curious animals, &c. &c, was religiously 
 paid to the Incas down to the death of Philippe Tupac Amaru, the sixteenth and last but one of the name, that is to say, 
 for more than six years after the Spanish conquest. (See our monograph on the Incas.) 
 
 3 We have here adopted the qualification Antis, elsewhere used in common with that of Chanchos, to designate all 
 the tribes which live upon the eastern flank of the chain of the Andes {Antis). We must observe, however, that this 
 qualification is only applicable at the present time to the one nation whose territory we have passed through. 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 537 
 
 his successors was not so entirely lost among the Quichuas of the Sierra Nevada that 
 they could not give their new masters important information on the subject. Some 
 of Pizarro's companions, followed by a band of adventurers, penetrated into these mys- 
 terious regions, where, if the common report was to be believed, immense treasures had 
 been accumulated. Pedro de Candia explored the neighbourhood of the river Amaru- 
 Mayu. and returned to Cuzco, without having found the coveted wealth. Pedro 
 Anzurez de Campo Redondo penetrated into the valleys of Carabaya, and even reached 
 the sources of the Rio Beni; but after undergoing fatigues and encountering dangers 
 without number, returned to the Collao, his point of departure, without having dis- 
 covered the imaginary land of gold. In the north of Peru the search for the country 
 where this metal, according to oral tradition, was employed for the commonest purposes. 
 was actively pursued. Gonzalez Pizarro, a brother of the conqueror, at the head of 
 a band of determined men, overran the province of Canelle. Francisco Orellana, starting 
 from the equator in search of the Lake of Parima, which rolled along its course in waves 
 of liquid ggld — and of the city of Manoa del Dorado, whose name alone suggested its 
 wealth — descended the river Napo, and reached the Maranon, which he named the Sea 
 of Orellana. Pedro de Ursua and Lopez de Aguirre set out from the river Huallaga, and 
 braved the dangers of the Upper Amazon. All these men, possessed by the demon of 
 gold, and seduced by the same instincts, which they disguised under the flattering pre- 
 tence of glory, pursued with avidity the same end, and found only, as the reward of 
 their toil, deception and utter wretchedness, often an obscure death. 1 
 
 Following the example of the conquerors, monks of every order and Jesuit fathers 
 overran these countries, trying to find their way to the empires of Enim and Grand 
 Paititi, not with the idea of discovering perishable treasures, but to convert to the true 
 faith the Quichua Indians, who had long ago abandoned the Sierra, under the leadership 
 of their chiefs, and those who afterwards succeeded them, led by a brother of Ata- 
 huallpa, the Inca executed at Caxamarca by order of Pizarro. The number 2 of these 
 
 1 Father Rodriguez, in his work El Maranon y Amazonas, published 16S2, after having frequently shown in his 
 appreciation of the acts and achievements of the conquerors, his compatriots, that spirit of partiality, that factious vice 
 of amplification, which characterize the historians of his nation, breaks out in exclamations at the sight of Pizarro and his 
 companions lending greedy ears to the golden tales of the empires of Enim and Grand Paititi, and seems to take a malign 
 pleasure in overthrowing with a stroke of his pen the palace and court of the Apu-Musu, or lord of the Moxos. He 
 caustically describes the capital of that empire, adorned with sumptuous edifices, peopled with au infinite number of 
 inhabitants, and, as the witnesses of its splendour have declared, a day's journey through its magnificent streets, as being 
 a collection of Indian huts — algunos ranchos de Indios. He finishes his review, the critical spirit of which is two 
 centuries in advance of his epoch, with these remarkable words: The soldiers of Pizarro only find, in place of the gold 
 which had been promised them, fatigue, sickness, and death; the religious adventurers find no trace of the millions of 
 souls of which they have heard speak in the empire of Paititi. {El Maranon y Amazonas, libro vi. eapitulo iv.) 
 
 2 The Spanish historiographers of the seventeenth century (monks and missionaries), in their accounts of this period, 
 have increased at their pleasure the number of the American populations. This system of exaggeration, this love of the 
 marvellous, which their nation evidently derives from the Moors and Arabs, and of which we have spoken elsewhere, 
 have been followed by the statisticians of the country in their official reports, while modern travellers, by making use of 
 these documents, have reproduced their errors. By way of example, let us refer only to the census of the population 
 given by d'Orbigny in YJJomme Americain, which may unhesitatingly be diminished by one-half. The greatest levy of 
 troops made by the Incas at the period of their splendour was from 25,000 to 30,000 men, and when we read that 40,000 
 Indians who, after the death of Atahuallpa, followed that Inca's half-brother (Philippe Tupac Amaru) to the valleys 
 of the east, we simply recognize a force of some thousands of Indians, to which the historians have added the figure of the 
 partial migrations that have taken place during the reigns of the Inca Rocca and his successors. The remark has been 
 made before by the missionaries, whose names are recorded in the ephemerides of Dr. Cosmo Bueno (year 1768). 
 
 vol. 1. 68 
 
538 PERU. 
 
 latter was alleged to be 40,000. In the absence of Quiehuas of pure blood, which these 
 adventurous missionaries expected to find, and of whom the climate had taken account, 1 
 they found the half-breeds descended from them and the natives of the country. 
 A great number of these were baptized, instructed, and affiliated to a chain of missions 
 which extended from Paraguay to the equator. There now remain only some broken 
 links of that vast chain, of the existence of which the books and narratives of the epoch 
 alone perpetuate the tradition. Time has done its work; the forest, violently dispos- 
 sessed by fire and the axe, has reconquered its ancient domain, and covered with a green 
 winding-sheet the mission, the missionaries, and the converts alike. 
 
 If the reader, with these facts before him, still doubts of the relationship between the 
 Antis and the Quiehuas ; if he refuses to admit, except under reserve, their community 
 of origin and their direct contact from the beginning, he must at least, unless he holds 
 them to be two isolated and distinct groups, believe in the close approach, and almost 
 fusion, which the successive conquests of the emperors on the eastern side of the Andes 
 caused to take place between them during many centuries. 
 
 We could have wished it had been in our power to close this retrospect with a 
 confirmation of what the public have so long been taught to believe, that the Antis, 
 like other nations of whom we shall by-and-by have to speak, have derived from nature, 
 or from their contact with other races, more especially the Spaniards, the white-and- 
 pink complexion which enthusiastic missionaries have bestowed on the Carapachos of 
 the river Pachitea and the Conibos of the river Ucayali, or the magnificent beards with 
 which they have gratified the Mayorunas of the river Tapichi, the white skins and black 
 beards which modern geographers and travellers have enthusiastically taken sur parole. 
 Unfortunately we have not found among the Antis and their congeners anything like this, 
 or even approaching to it. The only peculiarity that we have observed among the first- 
 named indigenes is a resemblance, more or less distant, of their type and colour Avith 
 that of the Quiehuas. One individual alone of the Antis nation, a fine fellow some 
 twenty-five years of age, who rowed our canoe for two days at the commencement of our 
 journey, presented with the eagle-like nose, salient cheek-bones, and altogether projecting 
 or boss-like profile of the mountain race, a moustache, or, strictly speaking, a line of 
 black down, sparse and soft, as if sketched with black chalk, on the upper lip. We 
 had before then occasionally seen Quiehuas of pure blood in possession of this imaginary 
 moustache; and on seeing it under the nose of an Antis, instead of inferring from the 
 fact anything compromising to the mother or grandmother of the indigene, I only saw 
 in it one of those curious caprices by which nature occasionally seeks relief from the 
 monotonous assiduity of her labours. 
 
 After this rapid glance at the origin and past history of the Antis Indians, it remains 
 to speak of the present state of these indigenes. 
 
 1 The influence of the climate of the eastern valleys, and the change of diet, so pernicious even now to the Quiehuas 
 of the Sierra Nevada, notwithstanding the frequent journeys to these countries, continued from father to son by these 
 indigenes since the Spanish conquest, must have been particularly fatal to the first colonists whom the Incas sent from 
 Cuzco. We believe, therefore, we ought to attribute the rarity of the Quichua type among the nations of the east to 
 the great mortality which occurred in the beginning among the indigenes of the Sierra, who, to judge by the effect which 
 a change of climate and hygiene still produces upon individuals of their race, could not have passed from a temperature 
 of eighteen degrees Fahr. to one of sixty degrees or sixty-five degrees witli impunity. 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 539 
 
 The Antis nation — not the population so called, which comprised in the time of the 
 Incas, as in that of Pizarro, all the tribes established on the cast of the Andes, but the 
 people to whom the name is now limited — occupied even down to the middle of the 
 eighteenth century the neighbouring valleys of Santa Ana, Huarancalqui, and Yanama, 
 the region of Pajonal, and the two shores of the Apurimac to its confluence with the 
 Quillabamba Sauta Ana. It was divided into a dozen tribes, which communicated 
 one with another, and lived on friendly terms. The greater part of these tribes had 
 chosen for their domicile the region of Pajonal, the banks of its great rivers and of the 
 secondary affluents which everywhere run through the territory. The southern quarter 
 was occupied by the Antis, Campas or Mascas, the Pangoas, the Menearos, the Anapatis, 
 and the Pilcosmis; on the north dwelt the Satipos, the Copiris, and the Tomiristis; on 
 the east the Cobaros and the Pisiataris spread themselves. The limit of their territory 
 on the west was the eastern flank of the Andes. 
 
 In our day nine of these tribes are extinct, or absorbed in a single tribe which bears 
 the name of Antis, Campas y Mascas. The country they inhabited has become a desert, 
 and the surviving group, instead of dispersing, have coalesced, in obedience to the 
 axiom that "union is strength." It occupies at the present time the confines of the 
 valley of Santa Aha, the left shore of the Quillabamba Santa Aha, some affluents west 
 of that river, which we have casually noticed, and both shores of the Apurimac, between 
 the Chanchamayo, the Pangoa, and the Mantaro. 
 
 The details we have already given concerning the Antis in the course of our 
 experience in the descent of the Quillabamba Santa Aha, accompanied with scenes 
 exhibiting their manners, together with the portrait types and sketches which at the 
 same time explain and complement them, have very much simplified our ethnographic 
 task in regard to these indigenes, and a few lines will suffice to dispose of that part of 
 our subject. 
 
 Morally if not physically degenerate, like most of the nations of South America, the 
 Antis but imperfectly remind us of the bravery and cruelty ascribed to them in the 
 narratives of the sixteenth century, and in the recitals of the first missionaries by whom 
 they were instructed. Their bellicose humour has certainty been softened by time. 
 Such of them as live on the left shore of the Quillabamba Santa Ana, in contact with 
 the cholos and Quichuas of the valleys, have acquired from that intercourse a sort 
 of moroseness and stupid dulness, with which we are struck at first sight. Of all the 
 indigenes with whom we are acquainted, their character bears the closest analogy to 
 that of the Indian of the Sierras, as they also live nearer than others to the chain of the 
 Andes. There is nothing surprising in this similarity of character. It is explained 
 naturally by the successive invasions of the Children of the Sun and the Spanish con- 
 querors, which caused a commingling of the inhabitants of the heights with those of 
 the valleys. 
 
 The Antis is generally of middle stature and well proportioned. His figure is slender 
 and shapely, and, like that of all the indigenes of the southern continent, rounded 
 rather than angular. The muscle is well covered with fat. The custom of painting the 
 face and round the eyes with a red pigment obtained from arnotto, and of employing 
 
540 PERU. 
 
 the black juice of the genipa on other parts of the body exposed to the air, is common 
 to both sexes, and is by no means done, as we are continually told by travellers, to 
 preserve them from the bites of mosquitos — the mosquito does not exist in the 
 mountainous region inhabited by the Antis. 1 The object of this innocent maquillage — 
 to borrow a slang expression from the stage — but of which they make a mystery, 
 only laughing when questioned on the subject, is to enhance by the use of brilliant 
 colours the natural advantages which they fancy themselves to possess. This idea, 
 and this practice, which was common to the Medes, the Assyrians, the Babylonians, 
 and other primitive nations to whom the mosquito was unknown, or of which they 
 never complained, are shared, as we have said elsewhere, by the fair sex of Cuzco ; only 
 in place of the opaque black and staring red used by the Antis, these ladies, who are 
 connected with our indigenes by the bonds of a remote ancestry, if one may believe the 
 most outspoken of them, only use the white of an egg mixed with rice-powder and a 
 delicate pink — a choice of fine ingredients and delicate shades which may be taken as the 
 sign of real progress, a veritable conquest of civilization over barbarism. 
 
 The clothing of these indigenes, of which we propose to present tailors and 
 costumiers with an exact pattern, consists for both sexes alike of a loose tunic 
 (tsagarinchi), derived from the uncu of the Incas and the ichcakuepilli of the ancient 
 Mexicans. This sac is woven by the women, as also is the loose pocket or wallet 
 (gibeciere), in the form of a frail, which the men carry saltier-wise, and in which they 
 keep the various articles of their toilet — a comb made of the thorns of the palm (chonta), 
 a little achiote or arnotto made into a paste, the half of a genipa-apple (huitoch), a bit of 
 looking-glass framed in wood, a ball of thread, a bit of wax, a small tweezer for pulling 
 out stray hairs, made of the two valves of the mutilus; a snuff-box contrived out of the 
 shell of a helix stopped with a plug of cotton, and containing tobacco which has been 
 gathered in its green condition and ground fine; and lastly, a snuff-taking instrument 
 consisting of two bits of reed, each a little more than an inch long, or of the arm-bones 
 {humeri) of an ape joined together with black wax at an acute angle. 2 Those among 
 
 1 Iu the valley of Santa Ana, from the region where the culture of the cacao commences to beyond Chahuaris, we hud 
 a small fly with long wings, whose bite is insignificant, and who, besides, only bites during the hottest hours of the day 
 and disappears at sunset. A fly so small as to be scarcely visible succeeds him from the rapids of the river as far as 
 Tuukiui, and like the former retires with the setting sun. Beyond Tunkini, on the frontier of the Antis and G'hontaquiros, 
 we find two varieties of liliputian mosquitoes whose bite is sharp enough, but who, again, bids the world farewell on the 
 approach of night. It is only on entering the territory of the Conibos that we discover for the first time the inonstrum 
 horrendum of the family, the infernal zancudo, which the Brazilians call carapana, and of which they count seven varieties. 
 The size of the zancudo when at rest is about the same as that of a grain of wheat. It bites in the day and night indifferently, 
 it pierces through the thickest cloth, and defies alike wind, l-ain, and smoke. All these species, as the learned Humboldt 
 has well observed, are confined to certain regions which they never leave, and which are so clearly defined, that a league 
 before reaching the territory of the Conibos, one may pass the night under the sky without feeling a single zancudo, 
 whilst the instant we set foot among those indigenes it is impossible to sleep without a mosquito-curtain. 
 
 2 With the assistance of this little apparatus the snuff-taker may himself provision his nostrils, but the large apparatus, 
 each tube of which is more than six inches long, cannot be used without the help of a comrade, who introduces one of the 
 t ulies into each nostril of the snuff-taker in turn. The operation is of course performed turn and turn about, and the 
 active rOle of iiuuffleur is exchauged by each of the two individuals for the passive one of insuffle. Snuff is used by the 
 Antis as a preservative or as a remedy against colds, which they are apt to take after a bath, and which often prove fatal 
 to them, rather than as a real pleasure. This custom, even though constantly practised among the G'hontaquiros and Conibos, 
 ceases beyond the territory of these Indians, where the elevation of the territory renders unnecessary the use of green 
 tobacco as a revulsive against the rheums of the brain. 
 
ANTIS INDIANS 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 
 
 543 
 
 them who arc happy enough to possess a knife, a pair of scissors, a few fish-hooks or 
 needles of European manufacture, keep them in their wallet or simbo mixed with the 
 articles just enumerated, and thus join the useful to the agreeable, according to the 
 expression of the poet. 
 
 Both sexes wear their hair behind like a horse's tail, but cut squarely across the 
 forehead just above the eyes. On the death of any one belonging to them they shave 
 
 
 ANTIS INDIANS TAKING SNUFF. 
 
 the head in token of mourning. Gold and precious stones, which in ancient times 
 adorned the clothing of their neighbours — the Children of the Sun— are despised by 
 them or altogether unknown. The only jewel of any intrinsic value which enhances the 
 somewhat bare simplicity of their costume is a piece of silver money — a real or half-real 
 flattened between two stones so as to increase its size threefold. When flattened 
 sufficiently to their taste, they make a hole in it and suspend it to the cartilage of their 
 nostrils. With this paten, which shines at a distance and flashes at their every move- 
 ment, they wear necklaces made of glass beads, berries of the cedar, seeds of the styrax. 
 the skins of brilliant-coloured birds, the beaks of the toucan, the claws of the tapir, 
 and even the pods of vanilla strung on .a thread. These gewgaws, many of which arc 
 tied together, are attached, by the fops and coquettes of the nation, to their wallets; or 
 they fall upon their bosom, hang down their backs, or make magnificent epaulettes 
 
544 
 
 PERU. 
 
 Both sexes wear besides bracelets woven of cotton warped on the arm itself, which, 
 when the dandy's flesh is inflamed and swollen from any cause, produces a singular 
 effect. These white bracelets are ornamented with a fringe of black horse-hair, the 
 bristles of a hedgehog, or the teeth of the maki-sapa, an ape known to naturalists as the 
 Erlodes. 
 
 The houses of the Antis are always built by the side of a stream in the interior, 
 apart from one another, and half-concealed by the curtain of vegetation. These indi- 
 genes purposely avoid prominent places and the shores of the great rivers, 1 where their 
 
 A FISHING PARTY OP ANTIS INDIANS. 
 
 neighbours the Chontaquiros, passing up and down, would not fail to make a halt for 
 purposes of pillage and extortion, though very observant of the forms of politeness. 
 These houses or huts are low structures in which it is hardly possible to enter without 
 stooping. They are oval in form, thatched with stubble or plaited reeds, supported by 
 stakes fixed in the ground six inches apart, Some are large enough to accommodate 
 two families. The strangest disorder reigns in the interior. Heaps of ashes and extin- 
 guished embers, bones, and even carcasses of animals, peelings of fruits and roots cover 
 the ground with a thick litter. The air circulates with difficulty, 2 and an animal odour 
 pervades the place, owing to the dogs, hens, apes, aras, and peccaries, which each add 
 their particular emanation to the general aroma. If the local tone of these dwellings 
 
 1 Prom Mancur6a.il to Bitiricaya, an extent of about 270 miles, we have not seen — and the reader has been in our 
 company — more than five or six dwellings of Antis Indians built upon the left shore of the Quillabamba Santa Ana 
 All other sheds or erections that we have met with on our journey have been temporary lodgings. 
 
 2 This description applies only to the houses of the Antis which are in proximity with the flauks of the Cordillera, 
 as those of Mancureali, Umiripanco, &c. The cold occasioned by the snows, which makes itself felt even there at certain 
 periods of the year, compels these indigenes to close the openings and stop up the chinks of their habitations. Less 
 than a hundred miles lower down, the elevation of the temperature, which always increases as we descend, renders such 
 precautions unnecessary. There accordingly the dwellings of the Antis are perfectly ventilated and even open to every 
 wind that blows, as we have seen at Mauugali, Sangobatea, &c. 
 
TUNKINI TO PAKU1TCHA. .-,4;, 
 
 defies the scrutiny of the artist, their odour must certainly baffle the analysis of the 
 chemist. The hearth is placed indifferently in the centre of the only apartment or in 
 one of its comers. The time which the men do not employ in providing for their 
 subsistence by means of hunting and fishing, is passed in drinking chicha brewed from 
 yucca-roots, as previously described, and in squatting or lounging on the mats to keep 
 themselves warm. 
 
 The national weapons are the mace or club and the bow and arrows. Barbed or 
 three-pointed arrows are used by the fisher to surprise the fish in running waters; other 
 arrows, with points made of palm-wood or with a lance of bamboo, are employed by the 
 hunter against birds and quadrupeds, or, if need be, against his fellow-man. Sometimes 
 the Antis poison by means of the barbascum (Menispermum Cocculus) not the rivers, as 
 a French traveller assures us — the current of these rivers, running at a speed of eight 
 or ten miles an hour, annuls the effect of the barbascum — but the creeks and bays, or 
 remansos, where the current is almost imperceptible. The roots of the menispermum, 
 which whitens the water like chalk or soap, makes the fish temporarily drunk. After 
 struggling for an instant it rises to the surface of the water with its belly upwards, 
 and in a state of unconsciousness, which enables the fisher to catch it with his hands, not 
 by thousand*, as again our traveller insinuates — fish are not so plentiful in these yet 
 cold waters — but at any rate in dozens. 1 
 
 The pottery of the Antis is coarsely made, painted, and varnished. The patterns, as 
 the reader may judge from the annexed engraving, are very limited. A jar for chicha, 
 a pot for soup, and a bowl, large or small, compose the whole variety. Anything 
 elegant of this kind that these indigenes possess comes from the Chontaquiros, who are 
 themselves indebted to the Conibos for such luxuries. Their household utensils are 
 contrived out of the spoils of animals. They have spoons made of mussel-shells or 
 of the skull of an ape. Rasps for manioc are supplied by the bony tongue of a species 
 of crab (Mains osteoglossum), fans made of the tail-feathers of hoccos and penelopes; 
 and reels fashioned from the dorsal fin of certain fish. Their drinking vessels are the 
 halves of calabashes (Crescentia Cujute), which they varnish on the outside, and upon 
 which they engrave rude designs. 
 
 Living apart from each other and in families or isolated couples, these indigenes 
 are governed by no other laws than those of their own good pleasure. They pitch on 
 a site or abandon it without any one having the right to interfere. Like most of the 
 American tribes with which we are acquainted, they never elect a chief except in time 
 of war, in order to march against the enemy. 
 
 The women are marriageable at twelve years old, and accept the first-comer of their 
 own nation who obtains the consent of their parents after making them a preliminary 
 present. The wives prepare the food of their lord and master, weave his clothes, 
 look after and gather in the products of the plantations of rice, manioc, or maize that 
 he has cleared, carry his baggage on a journey, follow him to war and gather up the 
 arrows that he shoots, accompany him when hunting or fishing, row the canoe and 
 carry into the hut the booty he captures, the game he kills, or the fish he catches. 
 
 1 Tins manner of fishing is only in vogue among the Antis from Illapani to Tuukini. 
 
54G 
 
 PERU. 
 
 Notwithstanding their constant occupation, the inevitable lot of women in the desert, 
 but from which the husbands know how to exempt themselves or take at their ease, 
 existence does not appear to be by any means a burden to these unfortunates. If they 
 are slaves, they laugh with the yoke on their shoulders and the weight they drag behind 
 them. 
 
 L^' .uWvVi-'t V. VV^ 
 
 WEAPONS, ORNAMENTS, ARTICLES OF POTTERY, AND HOUSEHOLD UTENSILS OF THE ANTIS INDIANS 
 
 Some days before their accouchement, the women of the country, according to 
 ancient custom, leave the conjugal roof and take up their abode in a hut at a short 
 distance from home. There they await, without doing anything to hasten it, the 
 moment of the expected birth. If there are women in the neighbourhood they go to 
 the assistance of their friend, and carry her the necessaiy food and water; but more 
 frequently the hut is quite isolated, and its occupant has to act on the axiom: " Help 
 thyself, and Heaven will help thee." It is seldom that Heaven fails her. After the birth 
 she drinks an infusion of the fruit of the native quinquina (huitoch, or genipa), performs 
 her ablutions with the black and astringent water of this cinchona, and returns home 
 to present the treasure to her husband. The latter receives the gift with a smile or a 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 547 
 
 grimace, according as it may be a girl or a boy. In the meantime, I ought to say, the 
 husband has passed the time gloriously unfettered at home reclining on his mat, 
 smoking green tobacco, or taking it in the form of snuff, warming first one side and 
 then the other of his lazy body, drinking chicha with his friends, and apparently never 
 troubling himself about the sorrows or the sufferings of his companion. 
 
 The institution of nurse being unknown among these indigenes, it is the mother 
 who performs every requisite office for the infant. By means of a cotton bandage as 
 a support she carries the darling a clteml upon her hip or astride on her back, and 
 with this load continues to attend to her various domestic duties, or loiter along the 
 shore in menial attendance on her lord and master. At the age of six the child — if 
 a boy — receives the first lessons from his father, who teaches him to swim, to shout 
 (with arrows), to count up to five, and beyond that number by duplication, sparing no 
 pains to make an accomplished man of him. The education of the girls pertains to the 
 mother, and comprises weaving, the manufacture of chicha, and the national cuisine, 
 consisting of the simple pot au feu, derived from the Peruvian chupe, but very much 
 simplified. 
 
 The practice of polygamy is exceptional among these indigenes. Some huayris 
 or captains of the temperament of our friends Siniuco, Ituriminiqui-Santiago, and 
 Quientipucarihua, had from two to five wives; but we repeat it, such cases are rare. 
 It is not that the morality of the Antis is shocked by a figure more or less in excess 
 of European notions, but the scarcity of food, and the difficulty of procuring it in a 
 country which is partly rendered barren by the nearness of the Andes, obliges them 
 to take no more responsibilities on their shoulders than they can acquit themselves of. 
 
 The doctors of the Antis, like their class in general among an aboriginal people, 
 are charlatans who lay claim to supernatural power, and practise on the credulity of 
 those who believe in them. By the use of narcotic drinks or violent drastics, they 
 either plunge the invalid into a profound sleep, or tax the powers of nature to the 
 very utmost, as in the case of the historian Garcilaso de la Vega mentioned on a 
 previous page. If the latter treatment is adopted, and the sick man recovers from the 
 diabolical treatment to which he has been subjected, the doctor's skill is reputed 
 infallible, and he receives handsome payment accordingly. To enter into further details 
 on the subject of these pretended cures would only be to fall into tautology, and copy 
 what the reader may find in all the narratives of " voyages round the world" published 
 during the last three centuries. If the number of idiots is infinite, to quote P/tcednt, 
 the number of the credulous is not less so, and clever or pushing people are always 
 impelled, by self love or self-interest, to take all possible advantage of their real or 
 assumed superiority. 
 
 At the death of an Antis his relations and friends assemble in the house, take up 
 the corpse, which is wrapped in its tunic, by the head and the feet, and throw it into the 
 river. That done, they proceed methodically to the destruction of the dwelling of the 
 deceased, they break his bow and arrows and his crockery, scatter the ashes of his 
 hearth, plunder his plantation, cut down to the level of the ground the trees which he 
 had planted, and end the business by setting his house on fire. Henceforth the place 
 
548 
 
 PERU. 
 
 is reputed unclean; every one passing near avoids it, and Avhen the vegetation has 
 reconquered its ancient domain, nothing is left to recall the dead to the memory of the 
 living. 
 
 We could have wished, if only for the sake of example to our young readers, it had 
 been possible to represent these indigenes as rigid observers of the command, "Honour 
 thy father and mother," &c. But to have said this would have been to falsify our nar- 
 rative, and credit these inhabitants of the forest with a virtue they have never possessed. 
 The father and mother of an Antis are counted for nothing by their children when age has 
 bent their head, enfeebled their arms, and, we were about to add, whitened their hairs, 
 but we remember in time that these Indians retain the perfect blackness of their hair, 
 even to eighty years of age. Begrudged food, ragged garments, and the worst corner 
 in the hut, are the inevitable lot of the old. We know not whether this abandon- 
 ment is a source of affliction to the aged, but at least they can console themselves with 
 the reflection that they formerly treated their own father and mother in the way that 
 their children are treating them. The occupation of these poor Helots is to carry the 
 water and wood necessary for the house, attend to the fire, feather the arrows, &c. 
 
 The creed of the Antis is a singular mixture of Brahminical tenets, of the worship 
 of the Parsees — a long time honoured among the nations of Upper Mexico, and re- 
 established by the Incas in its abstract form — and, in fine, of Catholicism imported by 
 the missionaries. They make of the sun and of fire, of Christ and of Pachacamac, of 
 the Virgin Mary and the moon, of stars and saints, a strange salmagundi. From this 
 pell-mell of theogonies there nevertheless springs, in the shape of vague notions it is 
 true, some idea of the power of the Great All, the existence of two principles, and a 
 life of reward or punishment after death. It is true that their notion of a recompense 
 for the just is not one that can be regarded as a great temptation to the practice of 
 virtue; it is, that after death the spirit will inhabit the body of a jaguar, a tapir, or an 
 ape. As for the wicked, his punishment will be to live over again in the skin of a 
 reptile or in that of a parrot, 
 
 The Antis nation, strangely reduced in number, counts at present no more than 
 eight or nine hundred men. 
 
 The idiom of these indigenes, some words of which we have subjoined, is soft and 
 fluent; they speak it with extreme volubility, in a low and veiled tone, without ever 
 raising or lowering the voice. When one of them is relating anything to one of his 
 companions, who listens without interrupting him, his narration, which often lasts a 
 quarter of an hour, may be compared to a plain chant or a recitative confined to a 
 
 single note. 
 
 VOCABULARY OF THE ANTIS INDIANS. 
 
 God Tayta-Dios. 1 
 
 devil camacarinehi. 
 
 heaveu inquiti. 
 
 sun issiti. 
 
 moon casiri, 
 
 star inipoquiro. 
 
 day quitahuiti. 
 
 night eehitiuiqui. 
 
 1 This qualification given by the Antis to the Supreme Being is evidently borrowed by them from the Quiehua idiom 
 aud the Spanish tongue. Tdjta in Quichua signifies father, Dios iu Spanish signifies God. 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 
 
 549 
 
 air tampia. 
 
 lain incaui. 
 
 dawn quitaibitital. 
 
 twilight chapinitonai. 
 
 water nia. 
 
 fire chichi. 
 
 cold huanachiri. 
 
 man sirari. 
 
 woman chinaui. 
 
 husband ochuema. 
 
 child auaniqui. 
 
 navel uomoquito. 
 
 leg iburi. 
 
 calf of the leg noguta. 
 
 foot noguiti. 
 
 bone tusquichi. 
 
 blind mamisiraqui. 
 
 lame coitguinchi. 
 
 thief custi. 
 
 fear nuchaluganaqui. 
 
 tree imchato. 
 
 leaf chapi. 
 
 stove mapi. 
 
 sand impaniqui. 
 
 coke chimenco. 
 
 smoke chichianca. 
 
 cinder samaupa. 
 
 house pananchi. 
 
 canoe pituchi. 
 
 raft sintipua. 
 
 cotton anpechini. 
 
 sugar impuco. 
 
 cacao sarhuiminiqui. 
 
 cauella (bark) metaqui. 
 
 rocou puchotL 
 
 genipahua ana. 
 
 manioc (yucca) caniri. 
 
 maize sinqui. 
 
 tobacco salri. 
 
 turkey (wild) canari. 
 
 parrot niniro. 
 
 perroquet meraeri. 
 
 pigeon sirumiga. 
 
 partridge quichoti. 
 
 fish humani. 
 
 spider gheto. 
 
 fly chiquito. 
 
 mosquito siquiri. 
 
 ant chibuquiro. 
 
 butterfly pempero. 
 
 sweet-potato curiti. 
 
 pistachio (earth-nut) . . . mani. 
 
 banana parianti. 
 
 thread niaupichi. 
 
 needle quichapi. 
 
 thorn queto. 
 
 fish-hook chagalunchi. 
 
 The next morning at daybreak we 
 embarked with the Chontaquiros. The 
 
 bow .... 
 arrow .... 
 sac (the garment) 
 necklace . . . 
 bracelet . . . 
 bell .... 
 looking-glass 
 tinder .... 
 
 pot 
 
 plate .... 
 knife .... 
 basket . . . 
 head .... 
 hair .... 
 face .... 
 forehead . . . 
 eyebrow . . . 
 eye .... 
 
 nose .... 
 mouth . . . 
 tongue . . . 
 tooth .... 
 ear . . . . 
 neck . ... 
 chest (or breast) 
 shoulder . . 
 arm .... 
 hand . . . . 
 finjier . . . . 
 
 belly 
 
 rope 
 
 feather 
 
 dance 
 
 tapir 
 
 bear 
 
 serpent 
 
 guinea-pig (pecari) . . . 
 ape 
 
 dog 
 
 vulture 
 
 cock 
 
 hen 
 
 egg (of a hen) 
 
 papayer (papaw-tree) . . 
 inga (gen. for the Mimosae) 
 
 piue-apple 
 
 one 
 
 two 
 
 three 
 
 four i 
 
 five 
 
 will you? i 
 
 I will 
 
 what? 
 
 what is thy name? . . . 
 
 yes 
 
 no 
 
 pianiinchi. 
 
 chacupi. 
 
 tsagarinchi. 
 
 carininquichiqui. 
 
 minguichinqui. 
 
 neguichi. 
 
 nigarunchi. 
 
 chinquiruuchi. 
 
 cobiti. 
 
 nectiti. 
 
 inquiti. 
 
 chevita. 
 
 iquito. 
 
 uoquisiri. 
 
 tiracamiti. 
 
 uutamaco. 
 
 notorinqui. 
 
 noqui. 
 
 iquirimachi. 
 
 uochira. 
 
 neuta. 
 
 nai. 
 
 nequimpita. 
 
 uapurama. 
 
 notana. 
 
 itisieta. 
 
 uojinpequi. 
 
 paco. 
 
 nacu. 
 
 nomoti. 
 
 iviricha. 
 , pachiri. 
 
 pina. 
 
 quimalo. 
 . maini. 
 , malanqui. 
 . sintulL 
 . osiato. 
 . ochiti. 
 . tisuni. 
 . atahua-sirari. 
 . atahua. 
 . atahua-iquicho. 
 . tinti. 
 
 inchipa. 
 
 chirianti. 
 
 turati. 
 
 piteni. 
 
 camiti. 
 
 maguani. 
 
 inaguarini. 
 
 pinintiri? 
 
 pinintaqui. 
 
 quiala? 
 
 tayta pipayta biro ? 
 
 siti. 
 
 tira. 
 
 took leave of our host Quientipucarihua, and 
 story of Father Bruno, which had been wins- 
 
550 
 
 PERU. 
 
 pered in our ears, had singularly cooled our sympathies with respect to these indigenes. 
 Notwithstanding their noisy merriment and their friendly attempts to break the ice 
 between us, we stood upon our dignity, and during the first day had no other inter- 
 course with these "suspects" than what was dictated by simple politeness. The times 
 to halt and refresh ourselves were the same with them as with the Antis. Between 
 eleven and twelve we landed on some convenient part of the shore to dine, and at 
 sunset we disembarked, to pitch our camp, prepare the common supper, and proceed 
 to our nocturnal toilet. 
 
 On the second day we familiarized ourselves a little with our new companions, 
 
 C U N I A Q U 1 1! S K VV E K S. 
 
 wondering as we did at their dexterous management of the oar and the paddle, The 
 canoes obeyed their least movement as a well-managed horse the least pressure of 
 his rider's hand. There were hard pulls to haul the wind, channels to shoot through, 
 veerings round, followed by furious jerks and sudden stops, of which one knows not 
 how to give an idea. These indigenes seemed as if they were of a piece with their 
 canoes, like Centaurs with their horses. The canoes, for their part, seemed to be 
 able to read the thought of the Chontaquiros and foresee their intentions, to judge by 
 the promptitude with which they conformed exactly to their owners' Avishes. 
 
 The work, or rather the play of these master rowers, was accompanied by noisy 
 exclamations, bursts of laughter, and sportive splashes, which the rowers of two canoes, 
 when they chanced to be near enough, treated each other to, without the least scruple 
 about wetting us also from head to foot. Each of our company had at last, in self- 
 defence, taken a share in these savage pleasantries, which otherwise it would have been 
 difficult to moderate. The Count de la Blanche-Epine alone found it impossible to 
 unbend himself, if we may judge by the Hash of wrath which kindled in his eyes 
 every time that a few drops of water irreverently fell on his person. He had two 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITOHA. 553 
 
 reasons for this angry feeling: first, because he considered the joke an infraction of the 
 etiquette which, in his opinion, every man, whatever the colour of his skin, was bound 
 to observe towards him; secondly, his horror of an ablution amounted to hydrophobia. 
 Although during the journey each and all of us might have seen him polish and repolish 
 his nails in the most assiduous manner, as a rhymester of the school of Despreaux 
 might polish a sonnet, no one could boast of having seen him wash the hands of which 
 the nails make the most beautiful ornament. It is easy to understand, then, the 
 unmitigated horror of the poor man on feeling a drop of water so inopportunely fall 
 upon him. 
 
 Another and more cruel kind of torture, to which the undisciplined nature of the 
 Chontaquiros condemned the great man, consisted in bringing him and the chief of 
 the Peruvian commission into close contact. This incident, as often as it occurred, 
 made me forget for a moment the dangers of the river and the miseries of the voyage. 
 I have already observed that our canoes generally preserved a distance of two or three 
 hundred paces from each other; but since we had employed these Chontaquiros, so 
 prone to fits of idleness, it frequently happened that the rowers of a canoe felt inclined 
 to drink a jug of chicha or exchange a few friendly words with their comrades in 
 another canoe, and for this purpose they pulled hard to come up with them, or by loud 
 calls made them stop. When both canoes happened to be those of our friends, this 
 approximation was only an opportunity for pleasantly saluting one another; but when 
 they were those containing the two chiefs of the expedition, the thing, by reason of 
 the enmity between the chiefs, assumed serious proportions. Let the reader picture 
 to himself two mortal enemies suddenly thrown together against their will, and with 
 no other barrier between them than the thickness of the planks of their canoes, equiva- 
 lent to a few inches! Finding themselves so close together as to appreciate the 
 greater or less purity of each other's breath, the rivals exchanged terrible looks, and, 
 like exasperated llamas, seemed ready to rush at each other head foremost; at such 
 times each quickly turned aside his head. While the Chontaquiros laughed, gossipped, 
 and drank, far from thinking that the two commandants mentally wished them at the 
 devil, the latter remained with their faces obstinately turned east and west, and could 
 only make up their minds to look northwards when the canoes were once more safely 
 separated. Such episodes — which might fairly be characterized as a "quarter of an 
 hour with Rabelais "—constituted, let us frankly confess, the greatest fun of the 
 voyage. 
 
 Since our departure from Bitiricaya we had frequently encountered, at places with 
 absurd names which the reader may find on our map, a few Chontaquiros, relations, 
 friends, or merely neighbours of our rowers. These strangers occupied themselves 
 with hunting or fishing. Jeronimo, in each instance, immediately engaged them to 
 join our party, picturing to them in such brilliant colours the pleasure of travelling 
 in such society, that they left all to follow us. Nevertheless none of them failed, as 
 they seated themselves in our canoes, to beg, through the medium of the chief of our 
 staff, a knife or a few fish-hooks, which at first we dared not refuse; but as the number 
 of these recruits went on augmenting, and as our resources in these trifles drew to an 
 
 WW. I 70 
 
554 PERU. 
 
 end, we at last requested the ex-bellringer to discontinue his enrolments, which he did, 
 but not without railing against our avarice, and making it a subject of complaint to 
 his companions. 
 
 "We were soon able to judge to our cost of the character of these indigenes, so 
 different from that of our honest Antis. In as great a measure as the latter had shown 
 themselves gracious, deferential, and serviceable, did the Chontaquiros show themselves 
 rough, undisciplined, and above all little disposed to conform to our humour. Where 
 the first had never consulted anything but our will, the second had obeyed nothing 
 but their own caprices. A single fact interpolated here will tell more in this respect 
 than a long dissertation. 
 
 It was the afternoon of the third day after our departure from Bitiricaya. As we 
 were passing the embouchure of the river Misagua, two of the recruits who had been 
 enrolled in the morning took it into their heads to stop and fish. In spite of our 
 representations, they pulled ashore in one of our canoes in which they were rowing, 
 sprang out, and disappeared in the wood. Two hours having passed without a sign 
 of their re-appearance, Jeronimo gave the signal for departure. As we complained to 
 him of the strange conduct of his friends, and of the time they had caused us to lose 
 waiting for them, he replied cavalierly, " When the Chontaquiro is on his own territory 
 he stops where he pleases," — thereupon, however, he muttered some gibberish in the 
 ears of his companions which Ave could not comprehend ; but from the manner in which 
 the latter bent themselves to the oars and made our canoes fly through the water, we 
 judged that two rowers less and two hours lost would, after all, have no disastrous 
 influence on the day's work. 
 
 Clearly seeing the uselessness of our orders and the inefficacy of our entreaties 
 addressed to the mutinous and whimsical nature of these Chontaquiros, Ave adopted 
 the plan of letting them do as they pleased. Henceforth they might, without the least 
 remonstrance on our part, stop whei-e it seemed good to them, remain as long as they 
 pleased, and embark again when the idea came into their heads. This apparent 
 indifference to their proceedings Avas completely successful. If our rowers profited 
 by the liberty Ave gave them of conscientiously idling away half the clay, they employed 
 so well the other half that they not only managed to make up for lost time, but even 
 to exceed the number of leagues that Ave Avere accustomed to accomplish. It is sufficient 
 at this distance of time to look over our book of rhumbs to be convinced that the 
 distances they made every day were the most satisfactory in the whole journey. 
 
 The day after that on which the tAvo Chontaquiros had acted so politely, one of 
 their comrades was taken with a fancy to imitate them, and aA-ailed himself of the 
 opportunity when Ave Avere dining on shore at a place named Qumaria to vanish in the 
 forest of reeds. This desertion made all the more stir as the indigene belonged to the 
 crew of the Count de la Blanche-Epine, who raised a fearful outcry at not having more 
 than six rowers instead of the seven he had monopolized since our departure from 
 Bitiricaya. "We left him on the shore inflamed with rage, and Avaiting to resume the 
 route Avhen his roAver should reappear. He waited so long that his canoe, distanced 
 by ours, remained behind the whole day. At sunset we halted as usual, and had just 
 
TUNKINI TO PAKU1TCHA. 555 
 
 encamped when the noble straggler rejoined us. Without uttering a word he betook 
 himself apart, followed by his slaves, who lighted a fire and prepared his supper. 
 Meanwhile night had fallen. Towards nine o'clock we finished preparing our beds, 
 and were about to abandon ourselves to sweet sleep and happy dreams when a strange 
 noise startled us. It sounded like a cry of anguish, broken by convulsive hiccoughs 
 and furious splutterings. One might have supposed the gargoyles of a public building- 
 were disgorging a flood of rain. This noise came at the same time from several parts 
 of the shore. We listened with necks outstretched and ears intent, but only succeeded 
 in realizing an effect of which we could not guess the cause, and even that struck us 
 with a vague sense of terror. The assistant-naturalist, who suddenly made his appear- 
 ance, enlightened us on the subject however. It appeared that the chief of the French 
 commission, having grown weary of waiting for his rower where we left him, had gone 
 for a ramble in the wood by way of relieving his feelings, and had discovered, twisted 
 in the branches of a tree, a papilionaceous plant of the leguminous kind, the pods of 
 which contained some beautiful haricots, spotted pink and brown. He filled his 
 handkerchief with these legumes, shelled them, and had them cooked by the stupid 
 fellow who served him as cuisinier. Unhappily the poor man, while thinking he had 
 laid his hand upon a variety of the haricots of Spain, or the flageolets of Peru, had 
 chanced upon a poisonous species of Pkaseolidce, which he felt constrained to render up 
 again the moment he had SAvallowed them. The cook, who had eaten the rest of these 
 haricots, and the scullion, a young Apinage Indian, who had licked out the sauce-pan, 
 felt the same gripings as their master, and although of an inferior nature to his, they 
 translated their internal experiences in exactly the same outward expressions. Hence 
 the trio of howls and splutterings which had so alarmed us. This taste of poison had 
 no further consequences than to make the chief of the French commission henceforth 
 extremely circumspect in meddling with plants of which he knew nothing. To immor- 
 talize the remembrance of an event which had well-nigh deprived the French Institute 
 of one of its future ornaments, I have inscribed on my map against the site of Isiapiniari, 
 where the incident occurred, the more expi'essive name of Playa del Vomito — the Place 
 of Vomiting. A beneficent sleep calmed the gastric irritation of the Count de la Blanche- 
 Epine, whose eyes, a little hollow in the morning, alone witnessed to the frightful struggle 
 which his stomach had had to sustain against the wild haricots. 
 
 On the fourth day of the voyage we arrived, about five o'clock, at a place called 
 Sipa, where for the first time we saw a genuine Chontaquiros house. Until now, on 
 the territory of these indigenes, we had only met with wretched sheds, hastily con- 
 structed, half-rotted by the rain, and so dried by the sun that a lens would have been 
 sufficient to set them on fire. The dwelling which now presented itself consisted of two 
 inclined planes, joined at the summit in such a manner as to represent an angle of 
 forty-five degrees. This ajoupa, wigwam, carbet, or shed, whatever we please to call 
 it, was entirely open to the east and west, and but slightly protected on the sides 
 opposite the north and south, the winds from which quarters might sweep its enceinte, 
 owing to the space between the ground and the lateral walls of its roof, supported 
 on a row of pillars. This roof, strengthened by bamboos and poles, serving as beams 
 
556 
 
 PERU. 
 
 and girders, was constructed with fronds of the palm, and in a manner so curious as 
 to merit a more particular explanation. Two petioles of the palm with their folioles 
 intact and split longitudinally had first been placed side by side in a horizontal position; 
 then the four rows of folioles adhering to them had been plaited together, two above 
 these petioles, two below, forming a kind of woof some ten inches broad ; in continuation 
 of which commenced a similar combination of transverse petioles and plaited folioles. 
 The finished work resembled somewhat those geometrical floors which inlayers call 
 point of Hungary, though it only imperfectly resembles the tissue of the lace so 
 called. 
 
 TEMPORARY AJOOPAS OF THE C H ON T AQDIROS INDIANS. 
 
 At a subsequent period we had an opportunity of inspecting more closely the 
 Indian houses and the various kinds of roofs. 1 But none of them appeared to possess 
 in so high a degree as that of Sipa the conditions of solidity, elegance, and lightness. 2 
 Notwithstanding its quasi-monumental proportions — for its height was about forty feet, 
 its breadth fifty feet, and its length twenty-five — it appeared from a distance so frail 
 and delicately made, that one might have thought it incapable of resisting the least 
 breath of air. Nevertheless it had already defied for ten years the storms of the 
 equinox and the tempestuous gusts of wind which bend and break the centenarian 
 denizens of the forest. 
 
 Behind this dwelling, built at some twenty paces from the shore, and on a bluff 
 sufficiently elevated to prevent an overflow of the river from reaching it, extended a 
 
 1 On a subsequent page, where we treat of the Missions of the Ucayali, the reader will find an engraved illustration 
 of these different kinds of roofs. 
 
 2 This elegant mode of construction is not confined to the Choutaquiros of South America, but is carried to high 
 perfection among the nations of Oceania. The natives of the Havre-Dorey, of the island of Masmapi,Tongataboo, Bea, Figi, 
 &c, have not only similar dwellings, but some of the tombs of their chiefs are built in the cyclopean and isodomon style. 
 The images made by these peoples, and their style of tattooing, recall the Indo-Mexican style ; and to judge by the idols 
 placed above their principal houses, and the ithypkaUic decoration of the house sacred to Dorey, the mysterious worship of 
 the lingam is still observed among them. 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 
 
 557 
 
 plantation of papaws, sugar-canes, cotton -trees, tobacco, and rocou. 1 A frank hos- 
 pitality was offered to us under this elegant roof, where three families of Chontaquiros, 
 comprising a score of individuals, lived in common. Before asking who we were, 
 whence we came, and whither we were going, they saw us comfortably seated on the 
 mats, and served us, in an earthen dish having two handles, with a ragout of peccary, 
 dressed with green bananas. A glance at this dish was sufficient to convince me that 
 more than one indigenous mouth had been dabbling in it. 2 My companions, to whom 
 I remarked this, were of the same opinion as myself; but it was long since my stomach 
 
 DWELLING OF CHONTAQUIROS INDIANS AT SIPA. 
 
 had been above anything at all digestible, so rolling up my sleeves to the elbows I 
 commenced fishing in the dirty water. 
 
 While thus helping myself to such dainty morsels as I could, I observed some 
 details as picturesque as they were purely local. From the transverse poles of the roof 
 were suspended baskets of various forms and sizes, sheaves of corn and maize, receptacles 
 of earth-nuts made of rushes, clusters of bananas left to ripen, melons, colocynths 
 (Coloquintidce) , quarters of venison smoked and grilled. Besides these commissariat 
 stores, there were the sacs, the wallets, and the hoods made by the women of the 
 
 1 When we speak of the plantations of these natives, the reader sees in idea, perhaps, great spaces cleared and wastes 
 cultivated. It is our duty to disabuse him of this impression. The plantations of these indigenes, to whatever tribe or 
 nation they belong, can hardly be estimated at more than fifty feet square in extent, and may comprise five or six papaws, 
 fifteen or twenty banana-trees, a score or two of sugar-canes, two or three cotton-trees, a few tobacco plants, &c. 
 
 2 The Chontaquiros, like the Antis aud all these Indian tribes, when they eat together out of the same vessel, select a 
 morsel which seems to their liking, teste it, even chew it, and if it does not possess all the qualities which they expected 
 to find, spit it back into the dish. They do the same with the sauces or other liquids which are not to their liking after 
 drinking out of a vessel in common. This custom is nut confined to our savages; we have often remarked it, with some 
 variation, in civilized households, and among the families of the Peruvian aristocracy, where a grandmother, an old uncle, 
 or any aged and influential person practises the same manoeuvre at table, taking with his fingers a selected morsel, gnawing 
 or sucking it, and then returning it into the dish. 
 
558 PERU. 
 
 household; bundles of raw cotton, and balls of thread; bows and arrows, clubs and 
 paddles, pots and sauce-pans, drums and flageolets, necklaces, head-dresses made of 
 feathers, and bracelets for fete-days — in fact all that was necessary to constitute a 
 thoroughly well stored bric-ci-brac establishment. 
 
 When the evening closed in, and two fires, kindled outside of the ajoupa, lighted 
 up all these objects with a strange glare; when, to the chattering of the women, the 
 laughter and cries of the children, were added the Babel of four idioms spoken face to 
 face, the going and coming of our friends and our hosts, with all the bustling backwards 
 and forwards between the shore and the house, the scene assumed a character of 
 striking originality, which would demand both the palette and the pen, colour and 
 eloquence, to represent it adequately. As if in designed contrast to this interior, full 
 of noise and movement, of red lights and black shadows, deep peace had settled down 
 on the landscape. The moon, surrounded with a large halo, diffused a pale supernatural 
 light over the scene; the general tone of the soil was ashen gray; the double line of 
 forests blackish green; and the river, apparently stationary between these two obscure 
 bands, looked like an immense mirror seen on the reverse side with its coating of tin. 
 
 Our sleep that night was not troubled by dreams. On the morrow, before leaving, 
 we paid our debt of hospitality by distributing to the men some fish-hooks, and to the 
 women a few buttons and glass-beads. 
 
 On leaving Sipa the vegetation became dull and languishing; both shores of the 
 river assumed a desolate aspect. Instead of those stretches of forest, garlanded with 
 sarmentous plants and Convolvuli, undulating in the wind like green drapery, we had 
 now nothing to look at but sandy shores bordered with reeds, rushes, and GEnotherese. 
 These shores extended farther than sight could reach. The compass, as usual, explained 
 the enigma which this change of scenery would else have presented. The river, after 
 flowing eastward in a winding course of ninety miles, had turned back to the west, 
 and the nearness of the Cordillera, towards which it now rolled its waters, renewed 
 the mineral aspect of the scene and caused the vegetation to disappear. 
 
 About mid-day, when the canoes of my companions were considerably in advance 
 of mine, I reached a spot where the stream of the Quill abamba Santa Ana, barred by 
 two islands of sand and stones, was divided into three arms of unequal breadth. By an 
 unlucky accident my rowers hit upon the channel nearest the left shore, where the 
 current ran at the rate of eight knots an hour. The canoe, darting forward like a 
 race-horse, threaded this narrow channel, across which like a dam or barrier lay the 
 trunk of a Siphonia elastica which had been uprooted by a flood. This giant-tree 
 stretched from the bank of the river, where it had grown, to one of the islets, and 
 by intercepting the swift stream, crowned the water with foam. Our canoe, driving 
 furiously along, went stem on between the enormous trunk and the stony bottom of the 
 river, where it stuck fast as in a vice. The shock was horrible : my two rowers threw 
 themselves into the water, and half swimming, half supporting themselves by the fallen 
 trunk, reached the shore without accident. I remained alone in the canoe, the water 
 up to my belt, and deafened by the noise of the waves which dashed against me as the 
 torrent went foaming by. My situation, as the reader may judge, was critical enough, 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 501 
 
 hut that of a great ape, an Ateles niger, tied to the prow of the boat, was intolerable, 
 and to escape from it he broke his cord and sprang upon me at a single bound. The 
 attack was so sudden that I could neither foresee nor avoid it. The animal had 
 thrown his long arms around my neck, and fear adding tenfold to his strength, I had every 
 prospect of being strangled. To free myself from his embrace I saw no other course 
 than to seize him by the skin of his back with one hand, while I used the other to try 
 the effect of a few smart raps on his nose. Already his arms were beginning to relax 
 their hold, and victory seemed to be on the point of declaring in my favour, when, as I 
 threw upon him a look of triumph, I saw his teeth chatter, great tears rolled from his 
 eyes, and a poignant sorrow was expressed on his simian face. My fear and my wrath 
 evaporated at once. I was ashamed at having struck that grandfather of humanity, or 
 that last product of the human series, according to the point of view from which we 
 choose to regard the poor beast; and to make what amends I could for the disgraceful 
 act, I piously kissed his black muzzle. Apparently he appreciated my remorse; and to 
 prove that he bore no malice, he unlinked his arms and sprang upon my shoulder, 
 where he sat astride as on horseback. 
 
 The first care of my rowers on gaining the shore was to run after the canoes that 
 were in advance, hail the nearest, and inform its occupants of the situation in which 
 they had left me. That canoe happened to be the one containing the chief of the 
 Peruvian commission. It was he, therefore, who came to assist me out of the bath 
 where I had been detained for more than an hour, invoking for my ape and myself the 
 support of Heaven and the help of man. 
 
 Here a reader, sitting comfortably over my book, may object perhaps, that, follow- 
 ing the example of my rowers, I might have gained the shore by half-swimming, half- 
 clinging to the trunk, instead of remaining in the river and laying the foundation of 
 future rheumatics. To this objection, of which I acknowledge the force, I reply, that 
 if I had done so, I should have had to abandon my clothes and papers, which were in 
 the canoe; and that is what I could not make up my mind to do. The Quillabamba 
 Santa Ana already possessed enough of my wardrobe, without being still further enriched 
 with the few shirts I had left. 
 
 With the assistance of my deliverers, I succeeded in effecting the salvage of my 
 goods and papers, and then scaled, in the midst of the boiling waters, the unlucky 
 Sijihonia, the cause of my misery, and dropped on the other side into the Peruvian 
 canoe. I Avas received with open arms by the captain of the frigate and his acting 
 lieutenant. My canoe, which the combined efforts of a score of men and as many oxen 
 would not have dragged from the place where it had got wedged, was abandoned to its 
 sad fate. 
 
 A tragical incident signalized my admission among our friends. The Ateles niger 
 which I carried on my shoulder had no sooner perceived the Ateles ritfus, dear to the 
 lieutenant, than, in contempt of the hospitality with which we had been received, he 
 threw himself upon him, grappled with him, and bit him cruelly on the cheek. The 
 Ateles ru/ns repulsed as well as he could the unjust aggression of which he was the 
 object; and feeling justified by the law of retaliation, rendered blow for blow, eye for 
 
 VOL. I. 71 
 
562 
 
 PERU. 
 
 eye, and tooth for tooth. Thus, a deadly struggle ensued between the two apes, who, 
 as they worried each other at the bottom of the canoe, uttered piercing cries and 
 furiously ground their teeth. 
 
 This memorable combat between the niger and the rufus, equal in strength and 
 size, and only differing in the colour of their skins, might have continued till this very 
 hour, if the lieutenant and myself, taking hold of our respective animals by the tail, 
 had not dragged them asunder, to the great disappointment of the Chontaquiros, 
 who seemed to be highly amused by the encounter. 
 
 ■ 
 
 MEMORABLE COMBAT BETWEEN AN ATELES NIGER AND AN ATELES RUFUS. 
 
 The two simian brothers, whom from that hour I surnamed, the black one Eteocles, 
 and the red Poh/uices, were then tied to the two opposite ends of the canoe, from which 
 positions, finding it impossible to renew the struggle, they made the most frightful 
 grimaces at each other. 
 
 The various episodes which I have recited in a few lines, occupied more than three 
 hours. The chief of the Peruvian commission, judging that it would lie useless to 
 dream of overtaking our companions, who were now considerably in advance, left the 
 Chontaquiros to the idle gossip with Avhich, instead of rowing, they now occupied 
 themselves, while the canoe descended with a swinging motion the thread of water. 
 We arranged to camp at the first place which should seem elegible for a night bivouac, 
 and to leave it early in the morning in order to rejoin our company. 
 
 About five o'clock we arrived at the mouth of the river Apurimac, where my first 
 care on landing was to spread out my linen and my wet papers, which the heat of the 
 sand and the oblique rays of the sun very soon dried. 
 
 The place Avhere we had disembarked was a simcious shore strewn with sand and 
 small pebbles, and shaped like a bow, of which the river formed the chord. In the bend 
 of this shore, bordered with scattered underwood and giant reeds, appeared a fringe 
 of hills, here entirely bare, there clothed with a scanty vegetation. Behind these hills, 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 565 
 
 and rising above them some 300 feet, extended a range of cerros of a reddish hue, 
 but occasionally patched with verdure. A chain of mountains with jagged summits, 
 veiled by the distance in a soft blue haze, rose above the cerros and terminated the 
 perspective. A perfect calm reigned over the landscape, the wind was hushed, the 
 sun was just setting behind the banked clouds, which his last rays fringed with cinnabar 
 and fire. The river Apurimac, divided at its embouchure into three arms, 1 rolled down 
 the shore at unequal distances, and its waters, which no breath of wind furrowed, and 
 green as an emerald, flowed proudly calm into the troubled and yellowish waves of 
 the Quillabamba Santa Ana. 
 
 I might have stood for a long time admiring this tableau, if the chief of the 
 Peruvian commission, for whom it had only a moderate amount of interest, had not 
 suddenly asked, with a perplexed air, what I expected for supper, there being no 
 provisions of any kind in his canoe. Not only was I able to reply to his question 
 and relieve him of his embarrassment, but to acquit myself honourably of the debt I 
 owed him. It was only necessary to open the haversack, which at the beginning of the 
 journey I had strapped upon my back; for in this receptacle, buried under sketches 
 of plants and manuscript reflections, was a certain box of preserved sardines, which the 
 reader has no doubt forgotten, but which I had always kept in remembrance. This 
 box, which since our departure from Echarati had sustained many shocks, endured 
 many storms, and escaped many shipwrecks, was fished out, a little oxidized, it is true, 
 from the place where I had secured it, but still faithfully guarding the deposit which 
 had been confided to it. By means of a knife and a stone I cut it open, and gave to 
 each, including the mozo Anaya, the companion of the cholo Antonio, a part of the 
 fish which it contained. As we were four in number to eat fifty sardines, exactly twelve 
 fish and a half fell to the lot of each individual. A morsel of bread would have formed 
 a suitable accompaniment to this irritating food, but we supplied its place by drinking 
 a mouthful of oil. The Chontaquiros, who had stoutly refused to partake of what they 
 called stinking fish, supped on the air and dew, and merely begged, through the 
 interpreter, for the tin box, which we handed over to them when it was empty. This 
 article, which they Avashed and polished to remove what they called its bad smell, 
 was preserved by them as a specimen of European industry. 
 
 Having eaten our sardines, Ave stretched ourselves upon the stones in default of grass 
 or of reeds to serve as a mattress. Our rowers, who had thought proper to decline 
 supper, found it convenient to decline sleeping also, and passed the night in a whispered 
 conversation. Notwithstanding the contempt which they pretended to feel for the 
 Antis, and the jeering tone in which they spoke of these indigenes, I do not think they 
 felt very comfortable at the idea of passing the night without arms and in so small 
 a body at the mouth of the Apurimac, both shores of which up the country were 
 inhabited by Antis Indians. Every now and then I saw them raise themselves on 
 their elbows, as if to search the darkness with their eyes and exchange a few words 
 in a low voice. Perhaps they feared a surprise from the enemy, for if the river-side 
 
 1 The principal arm of that river may be something less than 500 feet broad, and the other two about 200 feet and 
 250 feet respectively. 
 
566 
 
 PERU. 
 
 Antis of the Quillabamba Santa Ana lived on reasonably good terms with the Chonta- 
 quiros and submitted to their exactions in case of need, their brethren in the interior 
 were by no means made of the same amiable materials, and kept their turbulent neigh- 
 bours at a respectful distance. 
 
 The disquietude of our rowers vanished with the darkness of night. At day dawn 
 we pushed out into the stream, and once more finding themselves in the middle of the 
 Apu-Paro — the great river assumes this name after its junction with the Apurimac or 
 Tambo (Tampu) — the Chontaquiros recovered their usual spirits, chattering and laughing 
 
 SOCRCE OP THE BIVEB APCBIMAO. 
 
 in concert with the monkeys and birds who were now waking up on either side of the 
 river. 
 
 While following the course of the Apu-Paro, formed, as we have said, by the union 
 of the Apurimac and Quillabamba Santa Ana, let us throw a cotip d'ceil, not upon this 
 latter, the source of which we have seen at Aguas-Calientes, Huilcacocha, or the Lake 
 of Huilca; but upon its neighbour, of which we have not hitherto said anything, although 
 it has long occupied the attention of geographers, and its historic fame was recognized 
 as far back as the time of the Incas. 
 
 The Lake of Vilafro, whence the Apurimac takes its rise, is situated in south 
 latitude 16° 55", between the sierros of Cailloma, de Velille, and de Condoroma, 
 branches of the Western Andes. The length of this lake is about six miles, its breadth 
 between four and five miles, and its depth from three to seven fathoms. 
 
 Through a fracture in this basin on the eastern side, escapes a stream which spreads 
 its waters noiselessly across the plain, and, augmented after a course of twenty-four miles 
 by the waters of the torrent Parihuana, takes the name of the river of Chita, under 
 which name it flows through the provinces of Canas and Chumbihuilcas, its course 
 being almost directly northward. 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 5C7 
 
 After a course of seventy miles, during which it lias received nine tributaries on 
 the left and eleven on the right, it suddenly turns from a northward to a westerly 
 direction, and takes the name of the Apurimac on quitting the province of Quispicanchi 
 to enter that of Paruro; then insensibly changing its course it traverses the provinces 
 of Antas and Abancay, and cuts the chain of the Central Andes in a north-easterly 
 course. There, profoundly engulfed between high mountains, it runs through inac- 
 cessible solitudes, where for eighty or ninety miles it is lost to sight. It reappears 
 on the left of the valleys of Santa Aha and Huarancalqui, where it keeps a constant 
 course to the north-north-east — swollen successively by the waters of 'the Pachachaca, 
 of the Pampas or Cocharcas, of the Xauja or Mantaro, which descend from the heights 
 of Abancay, Ayacucho, Huanta, Huancavelica, and of Pasco, it traverses the region 
 of Pajonal, receives on the left the two rivers united in one stream of Pangoa and 
 Chanchamayo (Ene y Perene), and henceforth preserving a constant direction to the 
 north-north east, half north, it effects its junction with the Quillabamba Santa Ana 
 in latitude 10° 75". 
 
 For a long time it was the fashion among geographers to consider the Tunguragua 
 or Marahon, which issues from the Lake of Laiu-icocha, in the cordillera of Bombon, as 
 the trunk of the Amazon. 1 Subsecptently this opinion was abandoned, and the map- 
 makers claimed for the river Ucayali, a continuation of the Apu-Paro, the honour of 
 that paternity. Only, as they were not well agreed as to the birth of the Ucayali itself, 
 some confidently stating that it was the Quillabamba Santa Ana, and others the 
 Apurimac, it was impossible to be certain to which of the two rivers the Amazon should 
 be assigned. Time has cleared up all doubts in this respect. At present the Apurimac 
 or Tampu is definitively acknowledged to be the true trunk or father of the king of 
 rivers. To objectors who demand the reason of this preference, we would reply that the 
 course of the Apurimac is longer by seventy-five miles than that of the Quillabamba 
 Santa Aha, and that it is navigable — as likewise are certain of its affluents, though 
 only for canoes — under latitudes where the Quillabamba Santa Aha is as yet only a 
 mountain torrent encumbered with stones. 
 
 The shores of the Apurimac and most of its affluents in the region of Pajonal were 
 explored at an early period by the monks and Jesuits who had gathered together in the 
 missions of the Cerro de la Sal, de Jesus Maria, de San Tadeo de los Autos, &c, 
 comprising some sixty villages and several thousands of converts belonging to the Antis 
 nation, divided, as we have before said, into a dozen tribes. During a period of a 
 century and a half (155 years), these saintly men, animated by a holy zeal, extended 
 their faith at the cost of their lives among the barbarous hordes of the region of Pajonal 
 who are now extinct, as are the missions and villages founded by their teachers. The 
 libraries of the convents of Peru abound in printed and manuscript recitals which 
 
 1 That error originated in a process instituted in 1687 by the Franciscans of Lima against the Jesuits of Quito, on the 
 subject of the village or mission of San Miguel des Conibos, which the latter claimed as their legitimate property. As 
 data for the judgment which it was called to pronounce in this affair, the Real Audiencia of Quito required a map of the 
 locality, which was prepared by the Jesuit father Samuel Fritz. The reputation which the Jesuits enjoyed at this period 
 in the learned world caused this map to be adopted without discussion. In it the Tunguragua was treated as the trunk 
 of the Amazon, and the error was repeated for nearly a century and a half by European map-makers. 
 
568 PERU. 
 
 describe at length these missionary efforts and massacres. In 1635 the monk Ximenez 
 inscribed his name at the head of this martyrology, which closed in 1790 with that of 
 the father Mateo Menendez. 1 
 
 ■ 
 
 To complete our observations on the Apurimac we would it were in our power to 
 announce to statisticians who see the future of humanity in the commercial outlets of 
 populations, that this river which has so long occupied their anxious attention is a road 
 traced by nature for the purpose of opening a communication between the frontier of 
 Brazil and the interior of Peru. But this theory of the closet, so fascinating in certain 
 treatises of geography, cannot be practically realized by reason of the variable depth of 
 the Apu-Paro, the rapids, the rocks, the shallows, and the alluvial deposits with which it 
 is literally sown. Unless indeed the neighbouring volcanoes would undertake the office 
 of pioneers, and bringing to the aid of commerce and industry their power of moving and 
 rending, of overturning and levelling, of broadening and deepening this great road to fit 
 it for navigation, the imagination recoils before the tremendous preparatory works 
 which would be necessary in order to utilize it. 2 
 
 Let us then bid a definitive adieu to the Apurimac, and, satisfied with having 
 correctly laid down its course, no longer occupy ourselves with the imaginary services 
 which it is called upon to render in the future to dealers in bark and sarsaparilla. 
 
 During the whole morning we were threading our way through a veritable archipelago 
 formed by the accumulations of sand and stones which divided into a multitude of 
 channels the broad and strong, but, at this place, by no means deep waters. Often 
 we had to get into the water in order to liberate our canoe, the prow of which would 
 ground on the stones of the river bed. Enormous trunks of trees, fallen from either 
 shore and rolled down by the current, would sometimes choke up the entrance of these 
 channels, and contribute to render the navigation extremely fatiguing, if not perilous. 
 
 At noon we passed the last stony islet of this archipelago, to which succeeded a 
 wooded island the extent of which was hidden by a curve of the river. A burning sun 
 darted its rays upon our heads, the Apu-Paro seemed to roll on its course in waves of 
 liquid silver, and our eyes were dazzled by looking over its luminous surface for the 
 wake, alas! effaced, of our companions' canoes. To the uneasiness we felt at not 
 having come upon their traces, were added the pressing appeals of the stomach, 
 tantalized rather than satisfied by the sardines of the previous evening, and demanding, 
 in the unpleasant tone peculiar to it, more solid nourishment. 
 
 As we approached the wooded isle which our Chontaquiros called Santa Rosa, 
 frightful cries rang through the woods, and a dozen indigenes, who were apparently 
 
 1 It is of the region of Pajonal alone that we must here be understood to speak, and not of the neighbouring country 
 so improperly called Pampa del Sacramento, and which has also had, like its neighbour, its apostles and martyrs. 
 
 2 That navigable road about which travellers and geographers are so anxious has long been found. Nature has taken 
 care to trace it by the rivers Pachitea, Pozuzo, and Mayro, which open a way to the city of Huauuco, and from thence into 
 the heart of the Sierra, The missionaries of the college of Ocopa, who came and went between that seminary and the 
 missions of Sarayacu and Tierra-Blanca on the Ucayali, gave the most exact information concerning this matter. "From 
 the cerro of Pasco, distant from Lima ninety miles," say they, "we count forty-five miles to the river Mayro, and forty-two 
 miles from that river to the ancient mission of Pozuzo; total, eighty-seven miles. By opening a road from Mayro to 
 Pozuzo, and throwing a bridge over this latter river, we might avoid the detour by the city of Huauuco, and thus shorten 
 by 147 miles the journey from Ocopa to Sarayacu." 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 
 
 5G9 
 
 watching for our arrival, to judge by the satisfaction which our rowers manifested 
 on seeing them, threw themselves into a canoe, which they made to fly through the 
 water, and came to take us in tow. In a few moments we had reached a part 
 of the isle where our companions had found, since the evening before, a good 
 supper, good lodging, and plenty of people anxious for a supply of knives and fish- 
 hooks. 
 
 The welcome we received from the people of the island, who numbered sixty-one 
 souls, including women and children, was as cordial as that of the Count de la Blanche- 
 Epine was superbly disdainful. Hardly had that distinguished nobleman discerned 
 
 VIEW OF THE BIVER APU-PAtO AND THE SACRAMENTO PLAINS. 
 
 us than he spun round on his heels and showed us his back, as if we had brought the 
 plague. From his manner of acting I inferred that our prolonged absence had first 
 puzzled, then troubled him, and that he had finally come to the logical conclusion that 
 we had only stayed behind to contrive some dark complot against his person. Some 
 rather obscure hints dropped by the assistant-naturalist, acting as secretary, confirmed 
 us in our opinion. 
 
 The idea that the chief of the French commission should have taken us for 
 conspirators sharpening their knives (made to sell) in the dark, in default of the 
 classic poniard, did not prevent us from doing honour to the boiled fish, though 
 we had neither salt nor pepper for seasoning, which was served up with yucca-roots. 
 Each plunging his hand into the hot liquid, at the risk of leaving its skin behind him 
 like a glove, recouped himself for his long fast. When of all that the pot had contained 
 there remained nothing but a few bones and fins, with blebs of grease swimming 
 on the turbid water, we rose and with a sign of the head thanked our hosts for 
 this specimen of their cuisine. The captain and the lieutenant went to digest their 
 supper in the darkness, while I explored the unknown domain whither chance had 
 conducted me. 
 
 vol. i. 72 
 
570 PERU. 
 
 The island, which we had supposed to be of some extent, half-concealed as it was 
 by a curve of the river, was really not more than 1800 paces in length by 500 in 
 breadth. Its soil, almost on a level with the water at the southern end, presented at 
 the northern extremity an elevation of some fifteen or sixteen feet, which commanded 
 a view of all the environs. Part of the vegetation had been destroyed by the axe 
 and by fire, skeletons of trees with their branches blackened by fire lay on the ground 
 standing out in black relief from the accumulation of gray ashes. The vegetation that 
 was still left uninjured made us acquainted with the character of that which had 
 disappeared. It was composed of bamboos, cecropias, gyneriums, clumps of a spiny 
 solanum, and a stoloniferous species of the borage family. At the edge of the water, 
 in which their roots were submerged, grew in a confused sort of manner specimens 
 of (Enotherece and Alismacece, with three or four varieties of canes. 
 
 On the face of the island, looking westward, stood seven ajoupas at unequal 
 distances from each other, rudely constructed, and covered with reeds. A few 
 banana plants and yuccas (manioc) displayed their green stems above the ashes of the 
 clearing, which appeared to date some three months back, and bore witness to the 
 agricultural and pacific inclinations of the colonists of Santa Rosa. 
 
 One question led to another, until we learned that this cleai'ed corner of ground 
 and these seven huts were the necessary preliminaries of a mission projected by the 
 Chontaquiros with a view to the instalment, sooner or later, of a spiritual chief; it being 
 their intention to apply for the services of one at Sarayacu, the apostolic prefecture of 
 the department of the Amazon. 
 
 While listening to these details we recalled to mind the story of Father Bruno, 
 assassinated, if the Antis were to be believed, by Jeronimo the bell-ringer, and we 
 feared for the future missionary a fate similar to that of his predecessor. Who could 
 say that the relapsed Christian had not been selected by his companions to organize a 
 second massacre, and among those who surrounded us might be the very accomplices 
 who had assisted him in the perpetration of his first crime? 
 
 At the same time, as these surmises might be altogether unfounded, 1 as the 
 accusation of the Antis might be one of those calumnies from which neither nations 
 nor individuals recoil when they wish to satisfy their hatred, Ave refused to entertain 
 for the moment the false or true recital that we had heard at Bitiricaya, and listened 
 to the explanations which were given us with perfect frankness by the Chontaquiros 
 of Sauta Rosa. 
 
 They were all so familiar with the great river as to have ascended and descended it 
 a hundred times between the rapids of Tunkini and its confluence with the Maraiion. 
 Some of them had pushed their explorations as far as the Brazilian possessions, 2 and 
 had brought back with them from these extended voyages a few vocables of the 
 language of Camoens, which they remorselessly mangled. Others had picked up, in 
 
 1 It was not until our arrival at Sarayacu that the news of this murder was duly confirmed; till then, we had only 
 half-believed it. 
 
 2 The Peruvian villages, situated on both shores of the Amazon on this side of Tabatiuga, where the Brazilian 
 possessions really commence, are considered by these indigenes as appertaining to Brazil. 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 
 
 571 
 
 their relations with the Christians of the missions, a few words of Qniehna or Spanish, 
 which they more or less happily applied. 
 
 Besides these foreign elements in their speech, the greater number of them had 
 substituted for the barbarous and harshly sounding name which they derived from their 
 fathers, that of some saint of the Spanish calendar. Among the men were Pedros, 
 Juans, Joses, and Antonios; among the Avomcn Marias, Panchas, Juanas, and 
 
 PROJECTED MISSION' STATION AMONG THE CHONTAQUIROS OF THE ISLAND OP SANTA ROSA 
 
 Mariquitas. All professed to have received these names by baptism, and in remem- 
 brance of that Christian ceremony, they had never failed, they told us, to bathe the 
 children born to them. On questioning the mothers as to the means by which they 
 purified the newly bora infant from his original sin, they replied that they took the 
 infant by the heel and dipped it several times in the river Apu-Paro— as Thetis bathed 
 in the Styx her son Achilles. Observing that Ave looked at them with an astonished air, 
 they added, through the interpreter, that if a few drops of water thrown upon an infant 
 had power to regenerate it, a complete bath ought to regenerate it still better. We 
 knew not well how to reply to this maternal and savage reasoning. 
 
 These intended converts proposed, when once their huts were constructed — those we 
 have noticed were only temporary structures— to build a church similar to those of the 
 missions of Belen, Sarayacu, or Tierra-Blanca, humble thatched sheds turned towards 
 
572 PERU. 
 
 the rising sun. When the church was completed, they intended to go in search of a 
 pastor, as just said, and when they had found one would bring him in triumph to the 
 new mission. The young banana-trees and manioc that we had observed were to assure 
 bread to the holy man. As for fish, game, and turtle, 1 his table would be abundantly 
 supplied with them every day. 
 
 These last details were given to our cholo Antonio by one of the Chontaquiros of 
 the band, a man of middle age, short and fat, huddled up in a sack, which his corpulency 
 caused to drag on his shoulders. He wore also a fringed hood over his head, and his 
 face was scored with two rows of ornamentation, in black, of the Greek pattern, which, 
 being traced from the temples to the corners of the lips, resembled a pair of whiskers. 
 While writing them down under the dictation of the interpreter, we thought of the 
 happy future the Chontaquiros were preparing for themselves, of the good feeling which 
 they so admirably manifested, and we felt highly edified. 
 
 Evidently, grace had touched these heai'ts of stone, softened these barbarous souls, 
 and made brothers and Christians of these tigers in human form. The gospel seed that 
 had been sown of old by the missionaries among the gi-andfathers of these Chontaquiros, 
 and which was thought to have withered, or to have been devoured by the fowls of 
 heaven, had really germinated, blossomed, and borne fruit among the grandsons of 
 those indigenes. How should we not hail with our best wishes this dawn of a new 
 day ; how not smile with satisfaction on the future it illuminated ; how, in a word, not 
 lie down to sleep with a feeling of perfect confidence in the midst of these virtuous 
 neophytes! We retired to rest ashamed and abashed, like the crow in the fable, at 
 the outrageous suspicions we had conceived of them. 
 
 On awaking in the morning, the chief of the Peruvian commission discovered that 
 he had lost a red silk belt, which he perfectly remembered having suspended the evening 
 before above his head, and of which, therefore, he must have been robbed while asleep. 
 The loss of this article, which had been a good substitute for the india-rubber braces that 
 had gone down with our poor chaplain in the waters of Sintulini, concerned him the 
 more, as he would henceforth be obliged to hold up his inexpressibles with his hands. 
 
 Almost at the same moment that the captain of the frigate was complaining of the 
 theft of his belt, the lieutenant discovered the subtraction of his printed cotton pocket- 
 handkerchief; and I, for my part, found that I had been robbed of a pair of bags which 
 had been washed in the waters of the Apn-Paro, and spread out on the roof of the hut 
 to dry. We thought it prudent to be silent about the petty larcenies of which we had 
 been made the victims. It would have been useless to try to recover the articles, and 
 even to complain of their loss might have been hazardous. We were so few in 
 number, that to have stigmatized our hosts as thieves, would only have tempted them to 
 send an arrow through our bodies; or try if our heads could resist the blow of a macana, 
 that club of Hercules made of the wood of the palm-tree, of which the savages make 
 such free use against their enemies. 
 
 At the moment of our departure, Jeronimo and his acolytes, who, according to the 
 engagement made with them at Bitiricaya, should have conducted us as far as the 
 
 1 Fresh-water turtles first begin to appear about six miles below Sipa. 
 
TUNKINI TO PARTJITCHA. 573 
 
 territory of the Conibos, failed to answer to our call. We took many turns round the 
 island, beat up all the shrubs, searched one after another the seven ajoupas on the shore, 
 we even lifted up the covers of the saucepans and great jars with an obscure notion that 
 our deserters might have taken a lesson from the forty thieves of Ali-Baba, and concealed 
 themselves therein. Our host aided us in the search, calling out Jeronimo so lustily, 
 and with such an air of good faith, that we were quite duped. Jeronimo and his 
 companions did not reappear. We had given up all idea of discovering by what means 
 they had evaded us, when the chief of the Peruvian commission, whose only eye was 
 kept pretty wide open, discovered on the left shore of the Apu-Paro, in a shady creek, a 
 canoe fastened to the shore. This simple fact was conclusive as to the means by which 
 our rowers had made their escape. 
 
 By fresh presents of knives, we procured without difficulty other assistants. We 
 purposely selected them from the most aged of the Chontacpiiros of Santa Rosa who 
 were able to manage a few words of Quichua, Spanish, and Portuguese. One old man, 
 whose face was tattooed with blue stars, and whose wrists were encircled with bracelets 
 fringed with monkeys' teeth, exchanged with us for a knife, ten fish-hooks, and an 
 orange-coloured cotton pocket-handkerchief, a war canoe, the side of which was split, but 
 neatly corked with the local pitch composed of virgin wax, gum-copal, and smoke-black. 
 
 Seeing us ready to depart, men and women suddenly drew near, and under the 
 pretence of bidding us adieu, hung about our luggage in such a singular manner as to 
 excite our fears. With some address, however, we gave the order to our new rowers, 
 and launched out into the stream, when the indigenes on shore saluted us with farewell 
 cries which resembled howls. Some expressions little flattering to us, which the 
 interpreters translated, reached our ear; as for our rowers, they laughed in their sleeves 
 at the insults which their companions addressed to us from a distance. So terminated 
 our relations with the future converts of the mission of Santa Rosa, who, notwithstanding 
 the good intentions on which they piqued themselves, were nothing better than arrant 
 rascals and adroit thieves. 
 
 Nothing particular happened during the first hours of the navigation with our 
 recruits. I had more than enough time to note in detail the multiplied windings of the 
 river, and the local peculiarities which it presented. To the accumulations of stones 
 which had encumbered it since our passage through the gorge of Tunkini, had succeeded, 
 as the reader is aware, first, banks of sand and pebbles, then barren islets, and still 
 lower down, other islets covered with rushes and reeds, (Enotherece and Alismacece. 
 Now it was the turn of the larger islands, whose soil, formed of a compost of ochre, 
 sand, and stones, enriched by the detritus of vegetation and the fertilizing slime of the 
 waters at every flood, gave nutriment to shrubby masses of rhexias, bignonias, 
 melastomae, ingas {Mimosw) with a fluffy pulp, cecropias, cedars, and cotton-trees with 
 trilobate leaves. These scattered isles, with their soil almost on a level with the water, 
 and their vegetation composed of masses of foliage of which one could see neither trunk 
 nor branches, looked at a distance like great masses of verdure that had been pruned 
 away and thrown into the river. 
 
 Among these clumps were sandy spaces, where crawled and writhed a strange 
 
574 
 
 PERU. 
 
 population of ophidia, sauria, and amphibious quadrupeds. Here were otters gravely 
 sitting on their fin-like tails, there snakes or adders twining about the branches of a 
 withered tree fallen on the shore. Further on, caymans (American crocodiles) basking 
 symmetrically in line, received on their rugged armour the direct rays of a sun hot 
 enough to cook eggs. About these gigantic lizards came and went, with perfect 
 indifference, numerous aquatic birds: spoonbills in a gray and black livery with white 
 egrets, herons with brown plumage, and flamingoes in purple. These Grallre, the 
 living adornment" of the landscape, formed by the length and slenderness of their legs, 
 the graceful bend of their necks, and the slimness of their contours, a singular 
 
 ffifr 
 
 DWELLINGS OF CHONTAQUIROS INDIANS AT CONSAYA. 
 
 and charming contrast with the massy clumps of verdure that lined the shores. The 
 illustrious Goethe, curious to judge, from an esthetic point of view, how the human 
 form and colour stood out from the green of the landscape, caused a young friend of his 
 named Frederick to walk to and fro at the edge of a forest, naked. I do not know 
 what conclusion the author of Faust came to from this study; but as I have had 
 frequent opportunities of seeing the silhouettes of white, black, yellow, and red men 
 thrown upon the waving curtain of vegetation, I do not hesitate to say that Goethe's 
 handsome young friend must have been, as an artistic combination and effect of colour, 
 very inferior to a white egret or a pink flamingo. Man is, of all animals known to us, 
 the one whose form and habitus harmonizes the least with inanimate nature. The 
 salient angles of his build — if the term is allowable — do not combine well with the 
 re-entering angles of a landscape. One feels that the portrait is not placed either in 
 the light or the frame best adapted to set it off to advantage. I am aware that the 
 lovers of unadorned nature, and connoisseurs in classic landscape, are of a different 
 opinion, and I regret for their sakes that I cannot develop my syllogism, which, 
 reduced to a simple enunciation of the major proposition, may seem obscure or 
 paradoxical; but time presses me, and I must leave the task to some obliging reader. 
 
TUNKINI TO PARU1TCHA. 
 
 575 
 
 We had left Santa Kosa at ten in the morning, and at sunset we found ourselves 
 at Consaya. Three graceful erections of the Chontaquiros, built side by side, resembling 
 the elegant habitation at Sipa, stood on a slope on the left bank. Six families occupied 
 them in common. Abundant refreshment was offered us by these natives in exchange 
 for an assortment of fish-hooks. During the evening an animated conversation arose 
 between the natives of Consaya and our rowers. By the looks which the latter cast 
 upon our bales, we had no difficulty in guessing the subject of their conversation. As 
 we could not foresee what the issue might be, we kept watchful guard over our effects, 
 and thanks to this redoubled vigilance, we found everything safe in the morning. 
 
 FISHING PARTY OP CHONTAQUIROS INDIANS. 
 
 At the moment when we launched out again, some of our entertainers threw them- 
 selves into a canoe, and manifested a wish to accompany us a part of the way on our 
 journey. The Count de la Blanche-Epine, who saw in this demonstration of the 
 indigenes a natural wish to do him honour, smiled so sweetly that the Chontaquiros, 
 encouraged by such a reception, fastened their canoe to his, and thus went down stream 
 in consort with him. For a moment the great man might have been compared to 
 Bacchus, the son of Semele, drawing in his train the Indians he had peacefully 
 conquered. It was but a short time before he discovered his mistake. About three 
 miles below Consaya, the Chontaquiros, who had no other object in accompanying us 
 than to try in our presence, as they informed the Count through the interpreters, 
 whether the iron fish-hooks which we had given them were less known to the fishes than 
 the bone ones they were accustomed to use, took it into their heads to disembark, and 
 unrolling their lines, provided with a float of porous wood in lieu of cork, prepared to fish. 
 The Count de la Blanche-Epine, annoyed by this ill-timed halt of his escort — an escort, 
 the reader is aware, was the stone of stumbling against which he always came to grief — 
 signed to his rowers to go on. But the rowers, instead of obeying him, drew to the 
 shore, and one after another disembarked, and abandoned him for the sake of fishing 
 
o76 
 
 PERU. 
 
 with their friends. On seeing his authority set at nought, the chief of the French 
 commission appeared ready to gnaw his fingers off; but he soon thought better of it, 
 and fell to trimming and polishing his nails. 
 
 Led away by the evil example before them, all our rowers followed suit, and 
 pulled ashore to partake in the pleasure of their companions. For our part, soon 
 tired of guarding the canoes, we jumped ashore also, and assisted at the fishing party 
 in the character of spectators. The day was almost sacrificed, but we had for our 
 consolation an excellent fish-dinner. The Count de la Blanche-Epine alone refused 
 to eat, and was inconsolable. 
 
 DWELLING OF CONIBOS INDIANS AT PARUITOHA. 
 
 At four o'clock we took leave of the natives of Consaya, and accompanied by 
 our rowers only, left the shore where we had spent so large a part of the day. We 
 rowed till seven o'clock, and then landed on the point of a little island, where sand 
 and stones had succeeded to the vegetation. At some distance there shone through 
 the dusk of evening a fire of the Conibos Indians, to which our Chontaquiros, laughing, 
 pointed with their fingers. 
 
 Our relations with the latter came to an end on the next day, when we reached 
 Paruitcha, where the territory of the Conibos commences. We were received here 
 with a frank hospitality, which even extended itself to our rowers, notwithstanding 
 a certain antipathy which existed between the two nations. The Chontaquiros, who 
 were by no means at their ease in the company of their neighbours, only remained 
 a few hours with them, and then left to return to Santa Rosa. Before bidding us 
 farewell, they did not forget to help themselves out of our canoes and rafts, every chink 
 and corner of which was known to them, with whatever trifling articles we had in daily 
 use. While the cleverest prestidigitateurs of the band accomplished this robbery, their 
 companions surrounded us and occupied our attention with interesting details concerning 
 the remaining part of our voyage to Sarayacu. 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 577 
 
 Before embarking- our fortunes with the Conibos, whose company we shall have 
 
 TYPES OP CHONTAQUIRO INDIANS. 
 
 as far as the central mission of the Sacramento Plains, let us cast a retrospective glance 
 over the Chontaquiros, who have been our travelling companions during the last ten days. 
 
 73 
 
578 PERU. 
 
 To continue, apropos of these indigenes, the dissertation in which we indulged on 
 their neighbours in the south, would be to abuse the reader's patience, and fall into 
 monotonous reiteration. A mere comparison of the Chontaquiro type with that of 
 the Antis-Quichuas ought to be sufficient, at least in our opinion, to establish the 
 community of origin of these Indians, and to make them known at first sight for 
 scions of the same stock, members of the same family. 
 
 Under the names of Chichirenis and Piros y Simirinchis, 1 the nation of Chontaquiros 
 occupied, in the sixteenth century, both shores of the Xauja or Mantaro, 2 in the lower 
 part of its course ; and from the Apurimac, of which that stream is one of the principal 
 tributaries, extended their explorations as far as the river Apu-Paro. The fact that 
 a territory occupied by numerous tribes of the Antis nation could be daily traversed 
 without the risk of offence, when a simple reconnoisance pushed beyond the limits of 
 either country almost always entailed a declaration of war between two nations of 
 distinct origin, proves, to a certain point, that there were natural ties, weak perhaps, 
 but not the less real, existing between the Chontaquiros and the Antis. To that proof 
 let us add the resemblance of type, of which we have already spoken; that of clothing, 
 and manners and customs, of which we have not yet said anything; and, to conclude, 
 let us bear in mind that a great number of printed or manuscript narratives of the 
 missionaries of the seventeenth century designate collectively by the name of Antis, 
 Simirinchis y Piros, all the indigenous tribes which at that epoch inhabited the Pajonal 
 region. 
 
 But to what cause may we attribute the difference of idiom which at present 
 characterizes the two nations ? Is it to be accounted for by the adventurous disposition of 
 the Prros-Chontaquiros, which carried them at an early period, by way of the Apurimac 
 and the Apu-Paro, among the peoples of the Ucayali and the Tunguragua or Upper 
 Maranon? If so, to what epoch must we assign these first displacements, and what 
 time was requisite to corrupt and pervert, by contact with other idioms, the radicals 
 and vocables of the trans- Andean idiom? In the present state of our knowledge of 
 what concerns the aforesaid nations it is difficult, if not impossible, to elucidate 
 completely this problem. Nevertheless, as some curious ethnologist or philologist 
 might like to speculate on a solution of the difficulty, we will place at his service a few 
 words of the Chontaquiro idiom, which, by comparison with the Antis and Quichua 
 words previously given, and with those of other idioms which we will give hereafter, 
 may perchance throw some light on the past history of these nomad populations. 
 
 1 The Autis who inhabit the shores of the Quillabaiuba Santa Ana still designate the Chontaquiros by the names of 
 Piros or Simirinchis indifferently. 
 
 2 The Xauja issues from the Lake of Chiuchayeocha on the eastern flank of the Cordillera of Bombon. 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 
 
 579 
 
 VOCABULARY OF THE CHONTAQUIRO INDIANS. 
 
 God Dios. 1 
 
 devil mapuincbi. 
 
 heaven itahuac. 
 
 sun intiti. 
 
 moon cachiri. 
 
 star siri. 
 
 day tiajujuni. 
 
 night illachiuu. 
 
 air tampi. 
 
 rain ina. 
 
 dawn quita'ichiti. 
 
 twilight chupiuiti. 
 
 water une. 
 
 fire chichi. 
 
 cold cachiererenatocana. 
 
 man geji. 
 
 woman sichun6. 
 
 husband naniri. 
 
 child tiri. 
 
 head huejijua. 
 
 hair huijihuesa. 
 
 face huegasi. 
 
 forehead lmijiruta. 
 
 eyebrow huesac. 
 
 eye huijarsajk 
 
 nose huisiri. 
 
 mouth huespe". 
 
 tongue guene. 
 
 tooth huise. 
 
 ear huijepe\ 
 
 neck quisitiachi. 
 
 chest (or breast) .... huista. 
 
 shoulder huitisi. 
 
 arm huecano. 
 
 hand huamiauuta. 
 
 finger huimoje. 
 
 belly huesati. 
 
 navel huipuro. 
 
 leg huisipa. 
 
 calf (of the leg) huipuricsi. 
 
 foot huisiqui. 
 
 bone ijapui. 
 
 blind yoctera. 
 
 lame nimejeachi. 
 
 thief suri. 
 
 fear inisnati. 
 
 tree acmuinaja. 
 
 leaf timecsiri. 
 
 stone suctali. 
 
 sand sat6. 
 
 coke chichime\ 
 
 smoke chichipia. 
 
 cinder chichipase\ 
 
 house panchi. 
 
 canoe cauoa. 
 
 raft gipalo. 
 
 cotton gojapuj'6. 
 
 sugar pochoacsiri. 
 
 cacao turampi. 
 
 canella (bark) pitacsi. 
 
 rocou apisiri. 
 
 genipahua iso. 
 
 manioc (yucca) timeca. 
 
 maize siji. 
 
 tobacco nictiti. 
 
 thread huapocsa. 
 
 needle sapui. 
 
 thorn neti. 
 
 fish-hook yurimaiji. 
 
 bow casiritua. 
 
 arrow casiri. 
 
 sac (the garment) .... usti. 
 
 necklace pectari. 
 
 bracelet ririni. 
 
 bell tasacji. 
 
 looking-glass nisaiti. 
 
 tinder ictepape. 
 
 pot iuiate. 
 
 plate otapi. 
 
 knife ......... chiqueti. 
 
 basket puraji. 
 
 rope tumuti. 
 
 feather malluri. 
 
 dance culla. 
 
 tapir sicma. 
 
 bear saji. 
 
 serpent amuini. 
 
 guinea-pig (peccary) . . . illavi. 
 
 ape peri. 
 
 dog quiti. 
 
 vulture ma'iri. 
 
 cock achauripa-tiajini. 
 
 hen achauripa. 
 
 egg (of a hen) achauripa-naji. 
 
 turkey (wild) quiuli. 
 
 parrot pullaro. 
 
 perroquet sutiti. 
 
 pigeon nocaji. 
 
 partridge camua. 
 
 fish capiripa. 
 
 spider macsi. 
 
 fly sisiri. 
 
 mosquito llusla. 
 
 ant isiqui. 
 
 1 This name, which they give to the Supreme Being, does not belong to their language, 
 it from the Spanish missionaries. 
 
 They have evidently acquired 
 
580 
 
 PERU. 
 
 butterfly pipiro. 
 
 sweet-potato tipali. 
 
 pistachio (earth-nut) . . . cacahuali. 
 
 banana parianta. 
 
 papayer (papaw-tree) . . capallo. 
 inga (gen. for the Mimosa?) caapri. 
 
 pine-apple atuti. 
 
 one suriti. 
 
 two apiri. 
 
 three noquiri. 
 
 four ticti. 
 
 five tictisiri. 
 
 will you? pariquijani* 
 
 I will parichiti. 
 
 what? quejuani? 
 
 what is thy name ? . . . . quejuani-picha ! 
 
 yes huegoni. 
 
 no huegonunuta. 
 
 The accounts of the first missionaries are unanimous as to the untamable disposition 
 and ferocity of the Chontaquiros. Between 1628 and 1641, we could mention by 
 name seventeen ecclesiastics who were shot with arrows or killed with the clubs of 
 these savages. Time has much softened them, however; and having declined from the 
 rank of murderers to that of thieves, they appear disposed, at the present day, if we 
 may judge by their projected mission at Santa Rosa, to assume the more attractive 
 character of religious devotees. 
 
 Formerly established, as we have said, on both shores of the Xauja or Mantaro, and 
 in the neighbouring quebradas, the Chontaquiros have deserted that territory for the 
 left shore of the Apu-Paro, where they now occupy, together with the two points of Sipa 
 and Consaya, which the reader has visited in our company, the shores of the small 
 rivers of Sipahua, Sipa, Sinipa, and Sicotcha, 1 in the interior. We hardly know how to 
 account for their having made choice of these four rivers among all the fourteen 
 affluents of the Apu-Paro which water their territory between Bitiricaya and Paruitcha : 
 perhaps they were influenced by the similarity of their names, otherwise unimportant, 
 which gives them a family air. 
 
 While the features of the Chontaquiros, as the reader may judge from our portraits 
 of these indigenes, taken from life, reveal a community of origin with the Antis; while 
 their clothing, and above all, their customs are still the same as those of the latter, in 
 spite of the difference of idiom which separates them, truth compels us to remark that 
 the resemblance is purely physical, and does not extend to the moral nature. With 
 that tendency to theft innate in primitive man, 2 but which the Chontaquiros have 
 cultivated, developed, and pushed to its extreme perfection, there is in their whimsical, 
 rebellious dispositions, opposed to all constraint, a vigour, an exuberance, a loquacity, 
 a need of stir and action, which contrast singularly with the apathetic calm, sweetness of 
 disposition, and melancholy of the Antis, true brothers, in this respect, of the Quichuas 
 of the Sierra. These remarks, it should be well understood, are only applicable to the 
 modern Antis and Chontaquiros, because there can be no doubt that at the period 
 when the two nations lived under other latitudes and had a common idiom, their 
 character must have been similar, and that change of climate and language has produced 
 this difference of moral. 
 
 The high temperature of the country inhabited by the Chontaquiros, the beauty of 
 
 1 For the situation of these rivers see our map, between the eighteenth and nineteenth degrees of latitude. 
 
 2 If we were not fearful of being accused of a play on words, we would say of these Indians, that, in place of a 
 tendency to theft, which we attribute to them, and which expression is more strictly applicable to civilized man, they feel 
 as if under a natural necessity of possessing whatever pleases them. 
 
W^^lcdX^'^ 
 
 CHOXIIHI'IRO INDIANS. 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 583 
 
 its landscape, the purity of its light, the cheerful brightness of its horizon, the abundant 
 resources presented by its forests and waters, in hunting and fishing — in fine, the 
 assurance, amounting almost to certainty, of the indigene, after having breakfasted 
 yesterday, that he will dine to-day, and sup to-morrow — these advantages which he 
 possesses, and which he instinctively enjoys, have produced a moral equilibrium in his 
 nature, brightened his physique, and fixed a smile, which never fails, on his blobber-lips. 
 
 The Antis, on the contrary, intrenched in stony gorges, which are stormed by 
 frightful tempests or deluged with cruel floods; imprisoned on the shores of turbulent 
 streams, which are half-frozen by the nearness of the snows of the Sierra, and with 
 difficulty afford sustenance to three varieties of miserable fish; beating up the woods a 
 whole day before he can find a quadruped or a bird to satisfy his hunger, — has contracted, 
 in the incessant struggle against the wretchedness of his fare, that starved, sad look 
 which impresses one at first sight. Nothing so depresses a man as not to know where 
 and how he can dine. But the whole existence of the Antis is disquieted by this 
 anxiety, from which it results that their faces, like certain mountain peaks, are always 
 veiled with clouds. 
 
 The physique of the Chontaquiro is robuster and better conditioned than that of 
 the Anti; his strength and agility are greater. He has the short neck, the broad 
 shoulders, the more powerful chest, and arms which display the deltoid and the biceps 
 at the least movement. This robustness, the natural consequence of his hygiene, 
 indicates the sovereign accord which exists in his case between "the belly and the 
 members." How, in fact, when Monsieur Gaster is always satisfied and happy, should 
 not the members which he governs, as a king his subjects, participate in his generous 
 plethora ! 
 
 If the Anti excels in guiding a canoe through the dangers of cataracts and rapids, 
 the Chontaquiro is unrivalled in the navigation of calm waters. In his hands the oar 
 is a plaything, and the canoe a slave, which yields to his every caprice. He sways it 
 by his weight, moves it in all directions, turns it round, launches it on its course like an 
 arrow, stops it suddenly, and without incurring the least risk from this complete dis- 
 regard of the laws of equilibrium. The exercise of the canoe among the Chontaquiros 
 may be compared with that of the horse among the Gauchos of the Llanos Pampas. 
 
 In addition to the loose tunic or sac of the Antis, these Indians wear a hood, which 
 shelters their head against the sun and defends their neck from the bites of mosquitoes. 
 The women have no other clothing than a cotton belt, about a foot in width and dyed 
 brown, which is passed round their hips and reaches to the middle of the thigh. Their 
 adornment consists of glass-beads, which they hang round their neck, or with which 
 they surround their wrists in the manner of bracelets. A certain quantity of these 
 bawbles, which their husbands procure in the Peruvian missions, in exchange for wax, 
 seal-oil, or turtle's fat, constitutes one of these indigenes a lionne or woman of fashion. 
 Some of the more ambitious attach to these tinkling necklaces which hang down 
 much below the waist, a few pieces of silver money, stamped with the arms of the 
 republic of Peru, or a few copper sous, impressed with the image and superscription of 
 the emperor of Brazil. 
 
584 PERU. 
 
 A remark which we made in petto, when speaking of the Antis women, and which 
 we cannot help making aloud in reference to the women of the Chontaquiros, is that, so 
 far, the fairest half of the human race among these indigenes appears to be the ugliest. 
 Let the reader figure to himself as a prototype of the kind, a woman four feet four 
 inches in height, with hair, whose texture resembles the bristles of a clothes-brush, 
 forming a black mass, with a reddish -yellow shine in it, and cut squarely across 
 the forehead at the level of the eyes. This strange and inelegant fashion obliges a 
 woman, when she wishes to look before her, to throw up her head in the manner 
 of those horses which have to be cured of this vicious habit by the application of a 
 martingale. 
 
 The epidermis of these women is so thick, and the nervous papillae which it covers 
 are so dilated by the frequent shock of hard blows, the puncture of insects, the frequency 
 of baths and exposure to the atmosphere, that one might take it for the net-work of a 
 coat of chain-mail. It is as rough to the touch as the underpart of certain vegetable 
 leaves. 
 
 The fine serpentine lines of the Greek statuary would be vainly sought for in the 
 figures of these women, whose roundness of form after their sixteenth year turns to 
 obesity, and imparts, even to girls, the same ungainliness of form observable in the 
 matrons. Their feet, in constant contact with the spiny herbage of the forest, or the 
 stones of the river-side, are furrowed with deep chaps; and their hands, hardened at 
 an early age, might be used with advantage by wood polishers in place of pumice-stone 
 and glass-paper. 
 
 "For shame, you horrible man!" one of my fair readers will pei'haps exclaim; "the 
 original of such a portrait is an animal and not a woman ! " Alas ! madame or made- 
 moiselle, I invent nothing, but am simply a truth-telling historian. Nay, the portrait 
 that shocks you is still incomplete; and to finish it, let me add that the face is round, 
 the forehead low and straight, the cheek-bones projecting, the eyes small, obliquely set, 
 and puckered at the corners, and that these eyes are of a sclerotic yellow, with a pupil 
 of the colour of Spanish tobacco, frequently without lashes, and almost always without 
 eyebrows, harmonizing for good or evil, with a wonderfully aquiline or singularly flat 
 nose, a large mouth, thick lips, and short teeth, which are as white as those of a young 
 dog. 
 
 As for the colour of these indigenous women, I am sorry that I cannot give a 
 correct idea of it by borrowing a comparison from lilies and roses, or from cherries or 
 carmine. The only substance to which I can refer as remotely resembling it would 
 be, let me say, the secretion of the cuttle-fish, or sepia warmed up with a touch of rhubarb. 
 This tint, already sufficiently deep, is made still darker by the use of the fine black ink 
 obtained from the fruit of the genipa, as a stain with which these women daub their 
 cheeks, the rings of their eyes, and the throat, besides painting with it the resemblance 
 of gloves on their hands and sandals on their feet. The men, following the example 
 of their better halves, make use of the same colours, and mix with the black of the 
 genipa the brick-red obtained from the seeds of the rocou. 
 
 Tt is not only in his physique, his mental quickness, and his natural gaiety of 
 
or 
 
 H 
 55 
 O 
 
 H 
 
 
 74 
 
TUNKINI TO PARUITCHA. 587 
 
 disposition that the Chontaquiro appears the superior of the Antis. He surpasses 
 him also in his aptitude for manual work, as shown in the construction of his houses 
 and canoes, and the make of his weapons and earthenware, of which the reader may 
 form some idea from the engraved specimens annexed. 
 
 Like the Antis, the Chontaquiro lives apart, the same dwelling sometimes serving 
 for two or three families. It is long since the villages of these indigenes, or the 
 reunion of seven or eight cabins so called, disappeared from the soil with those of their 
 numerous congeners. The nation was first divided into tribes; the tribe has split up 
 into families. The cause of this is easy to explain, and it was easy from the moment 
 the division took place to foresee the filial result. 1 
 
 Like the Antis, the Chontaquiros never elect a chief except in time of war. Like 
 them, they throw their deail into the water, but by placing the body in a canoe- which 
 they sink to the bottom by loading it with sand and stones. Polygamy among these 
 indigenes, as among the Antis, appears to be an exceptional rather than a general 
 custom, and in such exceptional cases the number of wives hardly ever exceeds four. 
 The most aged of these women serves as chaperon to the younger: she advises them, 
 directs them, and, by command of her lord and master, spares them all painful labours 
 and rough drudgery. We will not go so far as to affirm, with a certain French traveller, 
 who had received the information from some joker of the country, that the women of 
 the Chontaquiros lament and cry, like those of the Antis, on seeing one of their number 
 abandoned by her husband. In the first place, we have never ourselves observed such a 
 fact; but, secondly, it seems to us out of character with the feminine nature, which, 
 whether we observe it in a Parisian saloon, behind the grating of a harem at Constan- 
 tinople, or under the covert of a virgin forest, has always appeared to us to rejoice 
 rather than lament over the misfortune of a rival. The younger of these Chontaquiro 
 odalisques spin and weave under the shade of their palm-tree roofs, or roam the forests 
 and shores in the company of their sultans. The elder carry water and wood, prepare 
 the meals, sow the land which the men content themselves with clearing, weed the 
 plantation, and gather in its slender produce. 
 
 The religious belief of the Chontaquiros, like that of the Antis, is a singular medley 
 of all the theogonies. As to its exterior manifestation in worship, we have seen so 
 little of the thing that the word recals, directly or indirectly, that we are tempted to 
 say of these indigenes what Father Ribas said of the natives of Cinaloa, that the God 
 whom they adored had a strong resemblance to the devil. 
 
 1 The persistence of these foresters (we m:iy call them) in seeking their means of subsistence from hunting and 
 fishing instead of cultivating the ground, and this in defiance of the fact that their forests and rivers are becoming every 
 year more impoverished, as we shall be able to prove hereafter by statistics, added to the epidemics which every half 
 century break out in. the country and carry off entire tribes of the indigenes, must lead iu time to their total extinction. 
 To the optimists who believe that the dawn of civilization must increase to perfect day with this fallen people, to whom 
 we have applied the improper but established name of savages, we would reply that their belief is Utopian. These peoples 
 are by fate condemued to perish, and the excess of the European population is called upon to take their place in the New 
 World. 
 
 2 The canoe used for this mode of sepulture is usually one of those small craft of from eight to ten feet in length, 
 managed by two rowers, such as the Chontaquiros and all their congeners iu South America use to navigate the narrow 
 channels which border the rivers. It is scarcely necessary to say that this funeral vessel is always a war-canoe. 
 
588 
 
 PERU. 
 
 The strength of the tribe, reckoning the families at Sipa and Consaya, the population 
 of the island of Santa Rosa, and that scattered along the shores of the four rivers of 
 Sipahua, Sipa, Sinipa and Sicotcha, does not appear to exceed from 400 to 500 men; 
 indeed, in giving this approximate estimate, it is possible I am rather over than under 
 the true figure. 1 
 
 1 To speak of the Chontaquiros, and not of the people of the country, we count four of their habitations on the shores of 
 the river of Sipahua, two on that of Sipa, two on that of Sinipa, and five on that of Sicotcha ; total, thirteen habitations for 
 these four rivers. Let us suppose, on an average, twelve individuals in each habitation — an enormous estimate; add thereto 
 seventy-one persons found at Santa Rosa, fourteen rowers in our employ, the twenty individuals at Sipa, and the forty at 
 Consaya; and let us suppose that fifty were absent hunting or fishing. We shall then have a total of not more than 351 
 individuals. 
 
 GAME OP BALL AMONG THE INDIANS 
 
 END OF VOLUME I. 
 
 GLASGOW: W. G. BLACKtE AND CO.. PRINTERS, VLLLAFTELD. 
 
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