Full text of "Travels in South America from the Pacific Ocean to the Atlantic Ocean;"

M. MARCO Y'S

TRAVELS IN SOUTH AMERICA.

OPINIONS OF THE PRESS,

Fnm the TIMKS.
" M. Marcoy has a full share of the spirit, vivacity, and
garrulity which make a French traveller the most charming of
companions in his own book. With sufficient science to write
with inteUigence and exactness of the flora and fauna of the
countries he visits, of the ethnological and idiomatic distinctions
which characterize their tribes of Indians, his strongest point and
the chief attraction of his work is his great skill as a draughtsman.
He sketches nearly everything' which he describes, and gives us
hundreds of pictures of the life, mannera, and scenery which come
under his eye. Such a book is a treat which the English reader
does not often get. . . . M. Marcoy's pages are a shifting
panorama of South American scenery. As we look through them
we may light upon a party of sombrero and poncho clad travellers
galloping over the dead level of the Pampas towards the rising
sun, their long shadows and the dust streaming behind them,
their way marked by the skeletons of mules and horses which have
perished in the waste, and on whose white bones perch troops of
heavy vultures, scanning the riders with their cruel, withered
eyes. On the next page we may reach a roadside cabaret and the
Indians who haunt it ; on the next a village of the Sierra, then a
town and various illustrations of its holyday and work-a-day
aspect, its people, manners, ' and buildings. Another chapter
surrounds us with the dreary solitudes of the Andes ; snowy peaks
and high table-lands, with cold lakes lying in their hollows, stretch
from liorizon to horizon, and we are glad enough to turn over the
leaf and to descend to the villages of Cabana and C'abanilla.
deserted by their Indians, who are away searching the rivers and
brooks of the neighbourhood for gold dust or fragments of silver
ore. ... If, which we hope will not prove to be the case,
the British public will not believe that there is more sound
instruction in such a work as this than in a geographic manual,
and more amusement than in a novel, we can only say, let him
alone."

From the TIMES (Second Notice).

" M. Marcoy's graphic and gossipping pages carry us from
mission to mission of the far Amazonian interior ; he takes note
of everything he sees and hears, and his garrulous pen runs on in
a Pepysian sort of diary of his travels, making capital pictures as
it goes. His pages are full of valuable as well as curious informa-
tion ; the quaint dulness of mission life and the simple and harm-
less savagery of Indian existence being adinirably sketched. The
excellent artist who strews the book so thickly with wood engrav-
ings doubles the vividness of the text."

From tlie DAILY TELEGRAPH.
** M. Marcoy's narrative of his observation and adventure —
ranging from the soberest and most, philosophic dealing with
scientific phenomena to the most grotesque and Bohemian phases
of social life in the emphatically ' free ' cities of Western South
America — is too well known alrea^ly in the world of science to
need fresh celebration here."

From the STANDARD.

"The engravings, their variety, their excellence, their int«Te»t
have never been surpassed in a book of the kind. They illustmte
manners and customs, natural scenery, accidents of adventure,
popular superstitions, methods of sepulture, and we have no riKim
to say wliat beside. But the interest of the work does not depend
on its engravings, profuse and excellent as they are. Tlie narra-
tive is enthralling. Never has there been given to tlie world
such a picture of South America, in its grandeur and its dejiravity.
. Facts, traditions, superstitions, geology, geography, and
anthropology, history, botany, and architecture, shoulder each
other through the entrancing pages of this book, for which Euro-
pean science owes a deep debt of gratitude to M. Marcoy."

Fiom tlie STANDARD (Second Notice).

"Never were printed engravings calculated to convey to the
untravelled reader such just conceptions of the luxuriance of
vegetable and animal life in the American tropics. M. Kiou,
the artist of the expedition, has done his work at least as well as
M. Marcoy has completed his, and to very many the engravings
— among the finest specimens of wood-cutting ever seen in Eng-
land — will be a perfect treasure-house of interest and of admira-
tion. The more we see of this work the more must we hope that
the enterprise of the publishers will not go unrewarded by the
public."

From the DAILY NEWS.

" More is to be learne<l about South A merica from a perusal of
these pages and a study of these illustrations than from an
examination of the library richest in books of travel. M. Paul
Marcoy is a good artist, a good narrator, and a good traveller ;
he did full justice to his subject. English readers have now an
opportunity of doing full justice to him by displaying, in a prac-
tical way, their hearty appreciation of his performances."

From the DAILY NEWS (Second Notice).

"In the book before us the sketches have evidently passed
through the hands of an artist who has made a series of pictures,
many of which are perfect landscapes, exquisite to look upon, and
probably much nearer the truth, as brilliant representations
of some of the most glowing and gorgeous lands in the world, than
the dull and shabby work to which we are accustomed. The
splendour of the tropical vegetation, the affluence of tropical
light, the glitter of leaves, the dimness of the forest depths, the
shine of waters, the soft withdrawal of vapoury distances, the
fathomless intensity of dark blue skies — all are represented in
these magnificent engravings in the happiest and most charming
manner. The portraits of Indian savages and Spanish Americans
are also very curious and interesting, and indeed the illustrations,
taken generally, introduce us to a singular country and people
with a felicity which cannot be mistaken."

F)-om the EX A MIXER.

"The engravinga that adorn iJmoat every page have evidentlj-
been a labour of love to M. Eioii, who is as effective in the
smaller vignettes as in the larger pictures. This is not, however,
a mere drawing room book to be taken up for the pictures alone.
M. Marcoy's text is worth more than the iUustrations, splendid as
they are. He is a shrewd, observant traveller, abounding in wit
and humour, and p<wsessing a versatility of genius which it is
impossible to overrate. He does not confine himself to a descrip-
tion of the manners and customs of the present inhabitants of the
countries through which he wanders, but restores for us the ruined
palaces and temples of the Incas of Peru, interprets the ' storied '
monuments of that historic country, and does not forget to
describe, as an enthusiastic naturalist, its magnificent flora and
fauna. . . ."

From LAND AXD WATER.

" We get remarks and illustrations which throw no small light
on the ancient history of the Incas, valuable ethnological notes,
and drawings relative to the various types of humanity met with.
That he was a naturalist we have already said ; while the prin-
cipal merit of the whole book lies in the illustration, of which his
pencil furnislied the original sketches. In the talent of observa-
tion, the most essential a traveller can possess, he is very happy,
and many are the amusing and comic touches which light up the
pages. Tlie translator's share, always a rather thankless task, has
l)een carefully and satisfactorily done."

From tU GRAPUIC.

"A journey of infinite variety, amid scenes at times of dreariest
desolation, at times of surpassing beauty, as when Arequipa
bursts upon the view at the foot of its volcanic peak, or the pano-
rama of the Andes unfolds itself by the upper lake of Titicaca.
A keen observer and accomplished draughtsman, M. Marcoy
portrays to admiration, with pen and pencil, the different types of
the Peruvian population, from the aboriginal Indian, whose sole
luxury is his daily supply of chicha, to the half Spanish aristocracy
of the towns, and the mad orgies of carnival and feast-days of
Arequipa and Cuzco, reduced though the former city be by earth-
quakes and revolutions. Nor is he less successful in depicting
the monolithic temples and Cyclopean architecture of the period
of the Incas, the more perfect in their art as their origin recedes
into remoter antiquity."

From the MANCHESTER GUARDIAN.

" . . . Everywhere M. Marcoy sees correctly, and we are
never in doubt as to the truthfulness of what he says. All along
he impresses us with the conviction that he is a genuine student,
a traveller seeking knowledge and courting adventure ; what he
affirms we believe, and what he portrays we feel confident is like
nature. The weird character of mucli of the scenery described,
and the paucity of materials presented even by nature itself, are
honestly reflected in the.se pages. And yet how rich they are in
fact, research, and suggestion ! "

From the MANCHESTER EXAMINER AND TIMES.

"His vivid style has been so faithfully reflected by his translator
that the most prejudiced hater of stories of travel, who will once
give ear and eye, must succumb to its charm, and admit that M.
Marcoy is a writer who can Ije copious in detail without being
either garrulous or diffuse, and who can relate his personal adven-
tures without being either dull or egotistical. He knows precisely
what the general public wish for when they listen to the adven-
tures of a traveller, but he is even more mindful of the require-
ments of those who are anxious to study while they read. He
brings us face to face with the tracesof a dead civilization, compared
with wliich the already venerable Spanish manners and customs
of Chili and Peru are things of yesterday. In the cities he intro-
duces us to many strange and curious phases of life, including not
a few stories of pathos and tenderness. His sense of humour
is also very frequently gratified, and he never hesitates about
narrating an episode in which the laugh is raised against himself.
He is an ardent lover of nature, and his descriptions of the
magnificent scenery of the Cordilleras, the Pampas, and the
Sierra Nevada, are no less interesting than the account of his
experiences in the cities."

From the LIVERPOOL MERCURY

"Seldom indeed has any one journeyed with so agreeaiJe
a travelling companion as M. Marcoy. His thorough good sense,
his unfailing cheerfulness, and the vein of genuine humour —
untinctured with flippancy — that runs through his narrative
attract the sympathies of the reader, and afford him a continual
source of amusement. He does not, like some travellers, complain
of the hardship he has to suffer, or abuse everything that is not
altogether to his taste, but philosophically takes things as they
come, and makes the best of them. If he does lose his temper for
a moment, it is only a mere superficial ebullition, at which he is
himself ready to laugh the next moment, and to admit the reader
to the same privilege. The bizarre and semi- barbaric manners
and customs of the Spanish-Americans, the easy and elastic code
of morality that prevails among them — not by any means exclud-
ing their monks and nuns and clfergy in general— the ridiculous
tomfooleries of their religious ceremonies, their saints in breeches
and their virgins in hooped petticoats, are all treated in a strain
of delicate raillery or cutting irony, which the good people them-
selves would probably 1« the last to see through."

From the SCOTSMAN.

" M. Marcoy has been a close observer and an accurate
portrayer. He has a keen sense of the ridiculous and a good
deal of the pathetic ; and the result is that he gives us at once
word pictures of the people and engravings of the interior of
i^outh America which, from an ethnological, an historical, a geo-
graphical, and a moral and scientific point of view, are of the
highest value. The text of the book will amply repay reading.
It is smartly and well written. M. Marcoy, in fact, has made it
almost of the character of romance, and it reads with far more
vigour and interest than most of the romances now current."

LONDON: BLACKIE & SON, PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS, E.G.;

GLASGOW AND EDINBURGH.

TEAYELS

SOUTH AMERICA.

^^=' :-J*:.-.' ■^— ^^'

^^.. ^."^'^^^^^H^f'^f;;*!^'

PAUL MARCOY.

I •-'II'

iN/\^z,nt

TRAVELS

SOUTH AMEEICA

FROM THE PACIFIC OCEAN TO THE ATLANTIC OCEAN.

PAUL MAECOY.

ILLUSTRATED BY FIVE HUNDRED AND TWENTY-FIVE ENGRAVINGS ON WOOD,

DRAWN BY E. RIOU,
AND TEN MAPS FROM DRAWINGS BY THE AUTHOR

VOLUME I.

ILAY— AEEQUIPA-LAMPA— ACOPIA— CUZCO— ECHAEATI- CHULITUQUI-
TUNKINI— PARUITCHA.

LONDON:

BLACKIE & SON, PATERNOSTER BUILDINGS, KG.;

GLASGOW AND EDINBURGH.

1875.

GLASGOW :
W. G. BLACKTE AND CO., PRINTERS,
VILLAPIELD.

TEANSLATOR'S PREFACE.

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
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 archseologist, 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 difiPerences 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 many engravings with which 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 an excellent 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 character 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 some-
what arduous task conscientiously.

M. Marcoy's narrative differs essentially from the important works of Mr. A. R
Wallace^ and Mr. H. W. Bates,^ 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
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

* Traveh on the Amazon and Rio Negro, 1853. ^ y^g Naturalist on the River Amazons, 1863.

„• TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE.

fond, and always, the artist, in search of materials for his pencil; and the student of
humanity, observant of all that is new and piquant in social life and character. His
science was suflBcient 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 with 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 in 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.

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. R Markham, Esq., the secretary of the
Eoyal Geographical Society, on the 10th of July, 1871, and subsequently published in
the Society's Transactions} 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;^ while, on the other hand, they are consistent with the
remark of Lesley,^ 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.^

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 veiy dissimilar from the
reports of the same people given by travellei-s 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; and this prejudice
survived for a long while the foundation of the South American colonies,^ if it does not

' Vol. xii. p. 281, sqq.

* An American savant, Mr. D. G. Brinton, says : " No connection wliatever has been shown between the civilization of
North and South America;" and again, "The most that can be said with cei'taiiity, 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. 31, 34).

' Man's Origin and Destiny, sketched from the Platform of the Sciences, p. 115. ■• Chapters on Man, pp. 200-229.

' Strictly speaking the Spanish American possessions were considered in law, from the time 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.

TRANSLATOR'S PREFACE. vii

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
Avaste 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 instincts 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. 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.

ELIHU EICH, F.R. HIST. s.

London, October 6th, 1874.

PKEFATORT NOTE BY THE PUBLISHERS.

The first edition of this Work, printed on large paper, was produced with a beauty and finish
seldom attempted in this country with works of travel, and met with great acceptance and very general
and highly flattering commendation. The book is now issued in a less luxurious but still handsome
and attractive form, and at a price that will put it within the reach of a much larger number of
purchasers than heretofore. Some of the engravings in the former edition are omitted in this, and some
portions of the test slightly abridged, but the abridgments are confined to passages of minor importance.
The Publishers confidently anticipate that the attractive illustrations and interesting narrative of
M. Marcoy will secure for his "Work in its new form a welcome into many homes, and that it will
continue to be prized as of great and enduring interest.

CONTENTS.

VOL. I.

FIRST STAGE.
ILAY TO AREQUIPA.

Hay aud its 8h<,res.-The Vicar oj Bray.-A bachelor's breakfast.-/ pede fausto.-\Yh{\6 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. -Halting-places and peeps (,f scenery.-A pleasant little pro-
spect from a bridge. -Arequipa and its etymology.-Earthquakes.-Au eloquent plea In favour of the
volcanic cone Misti -Churches and convents of Arequipa.-Soniething about religious j.eople in general,
and religious ladies in particular.- The streets, the houses, aud the inhabitants of the city.-The fair
sex of Arequipa.-Matrimonial traps.-Modes aud fashions—Indian carpot-bearers.-Impartial coup-
Wcdl 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.-J/e.i««to, homo, quia pulois e..-The author
remembers that he has a luug jouruey to go iu a short time,

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.-T'Ae *orocA«.-Occa8ional gossips en ro»<e.-Disappointment at Huallata.
-A storm 15,000 feet above the sea—Hospitality in a sepulchre. -Retrospective coup.d'<ea of the
Aymara natiou— The Lake of Gold and Lake of Silver.-Elegy on a roostei-— A night at Compuerta.
-The landscape and other things worth observing -Cabana aud 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 {rouenneries).~Mxmner of honouring the 8aiuts.-Effect produced on the
organs of vision by the sharp application of a bit of foie de volaiUe.-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,

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.— J/amftwi 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
iu which they differ from each oih&T.—Apackecta, 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.— Lithyrambic essay on the subject of streams— Drunken
farewells.— The cure Miranda.— A pastoral with a curious accomi>animent of stone-throwiu"—

VOL. I. °

1-67

59-100

yr CONTENTS

PAGIi

Sauta Rt'SM.— A f6te in the midst of tlie snows.— The postmaster of Aguas-Calientes.— Something
that distiinlly resembles the marriage of Gamache le Riclie.— The author discloses in a familiar epistle
the blackness and perfidy of his soul.— The tem[)le of Huiraooclm.— Two miraculous crucifixes.—
Useful notes on the beer of Combapata, and the manner in wliich it is brewed.— Kemarks upon
the past history of the Canas and Caiichis Indians. — The question arises whether Caesar shall ]ja.ss the
Rubicon. — At Ai.o[)ia, . 101-136

FOUETH 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 Salom6. — 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 Mania OcUo 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 ])rovince
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 familie.s. — The
tree of adieux. — The convent of La Eecoleta, its prior and its monks. — The Corridor-du-Ciel and
the Devil's Pulpit. — A monolithic chamber. — 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 writing lii.s memoirs with the other. — Cuzco, ancient
and modern, 137-28i2

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 imjjostor. — The clouds of heaven. — Day-
dreams of the traveller on arriving at Mara. — Intervention of Ahriman and Orniuzd apropos of a cake
of chocolate. — The duty of forgiving and forgetting offences. —The goddess of Pintobaiuba. — Souvenira
and silhouettes. — The ravine of Occobamba. — Here lies a noble heart. — Bird's-eye view of the ruins of
OUantay-Tampu. — The traveller who had counted on dessert with his dinner gets nothing but dry bread. —
Pass (port or natural road) of the Cordilleni 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 and execution done on Jose Benito. — To what lengths
will go a mother's love.— Description of a fountain. — A slionlder 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 imitiitiou of Theocritus. — M6tarie and chickens at Uuupampa. — Hacienda de los Camotes, or Farm of
Sweet Potatoes. — Etymology not always common sense. — Something that recals Baucis and Philemon of
classical memory.— ,S'<a, t;i«<or.'— 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. — Ornitho-
logy-— Varied aspects of the landscape.— Exploring the centie of a flower, the author's nose is seized
by a pair of pincers.— The hacienda of La Chouette.— The Hibiscus mutabUis.—Couversntion through
tile 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.—
AtEcharati 283-354

CONTENTS. xi

SIXTH STAGE.
ECHAKATI TO CHULITUQUI.

The hacienda of Bellavista. — An old acquaintance. — Rehabilitation of a uianagm- who had become a sot.
— Father Bobo and Father Astuto. — All the truth and nothing but the truth. — Visit to the njission
of Cocabambillas. — The glass of lemonade anil the silver spoon : apologue. — Proof that a Fianciscan
monk la the superior in diplomacy of a travelling artist. — Details and portraits. — The author accom-
plishes a pious pilgrimage across tlie 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 man's amour-propre. — Departure for the
banks of the Chahuaris. — The Autis 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 flowera 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. — Illapani. — Bivouac at Chuli-
tuqiii. — A confidence which the author, and cousjipiently the reader, were far from expecting, . . 356-396

SEVENTH STAGE.

CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINL

Hymn to Aurora. — Disastrous effects of a night passed in the open air. — The shore at Mapitunuhuari. —
In chase of a raft. — The situation is aggi-avated 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. — Monograph on the cock-of-the-rock.^Copy of an atithentic
deed. — An oath taken on a breviary in the absence of the Gospel. — Farewell fur ever on the shores of
Coribeni. — A bad night passed at Sirialo. — The site of Pololiuatiui. — Evidence that the theories of
M. Proudhon are more widely dift'used 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 geographic:d lesson on the shore at Quitini. — A baptism. — A captain g.idfather, and a lieutenant
godmother. — A musical phrase of Horokl confided to the echoes of Biricanani. — The calm waters of
Canari. — A ready-made picture of yenre. — The ajou])a.s of INlaiiugali. — How the Franco- Peruvian
expedition, following the example of Nausicaa, the daughter of Alcinous, hung its wet lineu to dry on
the shore. — The disaster of Pachiii. — 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 lieutenaut lost their shirts while ])re.■^erving their presence
of mind. — Date obo'.um Belisario. — Story of a double night-cap. — Divine justice and vengeance follow
crime. —From Charybdis to Scy^la. — A chief of a scientific expedition suspended by the armpits.— The
rapid of Tunkini. — Description of a gorge or canon. — Sudden passage from darkness to light. — The
American plains, 397-454

EIGHTH STAGE (first sectiok).
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. — Iturirniniqui-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 geographer will learn that the rivers of Paucartampu, Ma])acho, 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 Chontaqniroa Indians, — Jeronimo the tattooed
Christian. — The question of the preponderance of the Chontaquiros over the Antis is for the first time
discussed. — Liimentable history of the missionary Bruno, treacherously killed by a bell-ringer. —
Dissertation on the past and present history of the Antis Indiana. — It is proved by the formula
of a + ft that the Chontjiquiros 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
Sipkonia 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'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 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, 455-524

DIRECTION TO THE BINDER.

Place the Portrait of Paul Marcoy to face the Title-jjage, and the Sketch Map of South America
and the Itinerary Maps Nos. I. to III. at the end of the Volume.

N9I.

J .dar4iOliim«KEdiit'

BLACJCO; iSOU, LOHDOH.OLASOOW&EDINBnRGH.

iV"/.

J. B >rtholomiwtgam'"

BLACKU: & SO'K.LU:iDUIJ,U-lji.:;GU'-v X, SDiNB"ORGH.

ITINERAKY MAP - MARCOY

V"//,

J.Earfliolanio'r.Eiiii''

BLACZIE & SOU, LONDON, GLASGOW & EDINBURGH

ITINERARY MAP - iUHCOY.

N9ni.

BLAC2IE A- SOIT, LONnON, GLASGUW & EDmBTJRGH,

PORT AND VILLAGE OF JhW.

FIEST STAGE.

ILAY TO AEEQUIPA.

Ilay and its sliores. — Tlie Vicar of Bray. — A bachelor'a breakfast. — / pede fausin. — While the ninleteers think, the
autlior gossips. — The Pampas and tlieir bones. — A tampu or hStel bill in the desert. — Bird's-eye view of the valley
of Arequipa. — Halting-places and jieeps 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 religions ladies in particular. — The streets, the houses, and the
inhabitants of the city. — The fair sex of Arequipa. — Matrimonial traps. — Modes and fashions. — Indian carpet-bearers. —
Iinpai-tial coup-dmil from a fountain.— Pen-and-peiicil sketches. — Joys of the carnival. — A capital of 800,000 francs
represented by egg-shells. — Pleasantries of Shrove Tuesday. — Memento, homo, quia jiulvis es. — The siutlioi- i-enienibei-s
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,
i.s 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 lomas 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

2 PERU

a wall of trachytic rocks, forming a natural rampart Avhich 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 Avhat 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 which 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 GOO feet above the level of the Pacific
Ocean.

It Avould be difficult to conceive anything 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,^
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 tlie 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. Viewed from Cape Cavallo on the north,
or from the rocks of Ilo 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 dazzlir.g
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. ^

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 Avind, 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.

Correctly, huano. There is no letter g in the Qniclina idiom.

' Immense shoals of sardines are every year stranded on the.se 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.

ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 3

One fine 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 OR SPIT OP ILAT, FROM THE SEA, LOOKING EAST-NORTH-EAST; 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 gamas^) 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,

' The garuas resemble the drizzly vapour commonly ciilled 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.

4 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 brandj^ 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 y amigos"^ he said, in a rude but intelligible Castilian, "the repast
at which you have honoured me with your company is probably the last that we
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 mai'ried, 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 we must
part, you will not wonder if I refer to the wager we have before talked over, in Avhich
my conceit alone as a sailor would make me feel interested. Our friend Don Pabloy
Marcoy, who while I am speaking is amusing himself, and at the same time wasting
a good bit of bread, by modelling a caricature of my ship, has taken it into his head,
as you know, to start for the same destination as myself, and has laid a wager that
by crossing the continent from south-west to north-east, while I sail round by Cape
Horn, he will arrive at the mouth of the Amazon before me. I have accepted the
wager, but its amount is not yet determined. What sum shall Ave say then,
senores y amigosV

" A hundred ounces of gold," said a citizen of Arequipa who 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 would 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 withdraw
my proposal, I can't shovel up gold like our Avorthy host."

"What sum then do you propose?"

" I will bet five francs."

• Gentlemen and friends.

I LAY TO AREQUIPA. 5

"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 oflPer to bet appears to you 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 vis 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 Avho 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 Men, very well, very good, SeTior 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 Bray 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 Arequij^a
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 necessary 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 Avliich my
companions had pressed me to drink had been j^oured 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 Aveigh anchor. A last toast
was proposed by the captain to the success of our jovirney, which the comijany

Q 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 Brap, 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

"V^^

SEAL FISHEKM.VN WITH HIS BALSEEO: TYPE OP THE PACIEIC COAST.

the English consul to his house. His wife and daughters, disquieted by his long
absence, expressed, in guttixral 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, Avhich a servant offered
to us 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. 7

of Manco-Capac. My friends, the notables of Arcquipa, 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 Peru, is composed of eighteen strophes, of fourteen verses
each, and tenr 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 with 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 — who 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 wooden houses, roofed with thatch or reeds, which
compose the two parallel streets of Hay, were soon left behind us. Reaching the
summit of the height we 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
were 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, which may be correctly described as a wheel-rut cut by some gigantic
vehicle, was 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 we could breathe at all. As we plodded on our monotonous way
we absolutely panted for fresh air.

For two hours we traversed the quebrada, marcliing in Indian file, and keeping a
melancholy silence, in strict harmony with the desolate aspect of the place, and imposed

PERU.

upon us by the dread we felt of swallowing the dust raised by the beasts we 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 we 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 Avider and wider expanses, until in fine they sunk
to hillocks. Soon we 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 now approaching a place called
the Olivar, the natural frontier which separates tlie 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-
lum), with here and there a stunted and twisted olive
and a few 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 we passed along, and the poor goddess
of flowers was 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 view of
the surrounding country. An ajoujm, formed of a
ragged mat supported by stakes, occupied the centre
of the space. Under this tent, so to call it, Avere
some women in rags, and children in the only
clothing furnished them by nature, squatting in the midst of their pots and pans.
A low table or stall furnished with broiled fish, ground pimento, and a kind of sea-
weed called by the Indians cocha-yuyu (sweetness of the lake), indicated one of
those open-air restaurants so common in Peru. These provisions, nicely sprinkled
with volcanic ashes, looked far from inviting; bv;t 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 washed
down with a jug of chicha. As customary before commencing the journey across
the pampas, we stayed a few moments in this place to rest the mules, for which pur-
pose we dismounted. While our attendants devoted themselves to their repast, my
companions lighted their cigarettes. Leaving them to have their smoke, I went to
the edge of the plateau, which, at an elevation of some 6000 or 6000 feet, enabled me
to look vipon the scenes through which we had passed, and which I was now leaving
never more to return.

Vanilla-scented HELioTROPr: of the Lomas in the
Ashy Kegiou of the Quebradiu

ILAY TO AREQUIPA.

Far as the eye could see, from the foot of the plateau ou 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 QUEBKADA OF ILAY.

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 rae 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 waves, 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 {lmac/t)i), in Avhich, sleeping their last sleep, are thousands of mummies.
Every point upon which my eye fell recalled a halt, an episode, a discovery.

PERU.

Here I had lived for weeks in the company of the LHpis 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 Susquehannah. 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.

AYMAKA OSSUARY, A FEW MILES SOUTH-SOUTH-EAST OF ILAT.

Still farther, in the south-east were the desolate lands of the Arenal, with their deposits
of guano composed of fish,^ 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 centos or low rounded hills steeply inclined towards
the west, succeeds to the volcanic ashes, and closes the horizon like a barrier.

* The stranding of fish, observed in the reign of the first Incas, still occurs every year at fixed periods. The
inhabitants of the coasts of Atica, ninety miles north of Hay, and those of Mala and Chiica, 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. H

These stony heai^s, formed of blocks of a quartzose or silicious grit, and of the
ddbris 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 with 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 etei^nal 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 admix-ed, 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 Avhich at this distance looked like a
l)it 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 we had set our faces
to the north-east, and given the rein to our steeds in order that they might choose
their own 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 wedge of Gustavus
Adolphus. This movement having been effected with remarkable precision, each
animal sniffed the air strongly, bent down his ears, stretched 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 waves themselves.

12 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 arriero 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 belt our course to the right, and went to reconnoitre them.

Groiiped 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, werd* 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 urubii), 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 AREQUiPA

wlien we had 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
joiu-ney without accident, to the no small satisfaction of their owners.

LANDMARKS OF THE ROUTE ACROSS THE PAMPAS TO AREQUIPA.

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 tamjm 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 re.sting their beasts rather than themselves.

14 PERU.

The tampu, which the Quichua Indians now improperly call a tambo,^ 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 dej^lorable 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 walls "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 walls of the tampu, their names, and the
date of their visit; while others cooled their faces with fresh water, and, in the
absence of cold-cream, anointed them with tallow.

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 wooden spoon was then given to each of us, and seated

• 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, hi, bo, &c. &c.

ILAY TO AREQUIPA.

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 flattered by the ardour with which we wielded our
spoons. When the dish Avas thoroughly cleaned out we threw down our spoons
and asked for the bill. Our host had written it out in chalk upon a jiiece of wood

TAJIPU, OR HOSTELRY OF THE PAMPAS.

while we were eating, and he now presented it with an obsequious air. It ran as
follows: — Vel-aga, 416 — Ckup-suma, 60-80. Interpreted thus: —

Vela (caudle), 4 reals.
Agua (water), 16 reals.
Chupe (soup), 60 reals.

Suma (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,^ the pail of water two piastres,^
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 European 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, improvidently 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

' The value of a real is about 6^(1.

^ The value of a piastre is about 4s. 2d. or 4s. 3d.

16 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 prefei'able to one by day, 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, quite 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, Ave 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 narrow, 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
(Cereiis and Ojmntia) 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 urpilla-ckay (darling turtle), compare it to the Avomen
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 Avhich 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

I LAY TO AREQUIPA.

by the scene which hiy before lis when, having ronndcd the last cerro, we found our-
selves uiDon 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 connningled 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 FicJiU'piclm, was serrated
like a saw, the other on the left, called
Chachani, 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,' 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 Avith 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 tlie plateau of Tiahuanacu in higher Peru, he had traversed

CEREUS CANDELARia AND OPUNTIA.

' Modem geographers have mistakenly substituted for the Misti, which rises above the valley and city of Arequipa,
the Ihiaytia-Putina, which they call Ouaga-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 Moqiieluia, above the village of Ornate — that is to say, about
ninety miles south-east of Arequipa. Having i)ointerl 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 heiglit above the sea is 15,223 feet; above
the Tampu and Pampa of Hay it measures 11,306 feet; and above the central Place of Arequipa, 8545 feet.

VOL. I. 3

PERU.

tlie double chain of the Andes above the sources of the Apurimac to reduce to servi-
tude those of the Aymara nation who Uved in the environs of Pari Huanacocha
(Fhinun<,^o Lake), under the hfteeuth 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 or OEBROS OB RUGGED HILLS NEAR ABEQUIP^V.

extinct and covered with suoav, M'hich rises on the borders of the provinces of
Cailloma and Arequipa.'

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 Avhen
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, nmst not be confounded with the Misti

' By the side of this volcano, the cone of whicii is jierfectly regular, rises another named tlie Padre Eterno, now
extinct like the Coi-ipuna, and like it covered with snow from the summit to the base during the whole year. They are
both situated in the same parallel as the volcano {Misti) of Arequipa ni the foot of the chain of the Westeru Andes. They
are distinctly visible from the descent of the Kecoleta, near the bridge of Arequipa.

J LAY TO AREQUIPA

—a period which comprises the eruptions of 1582, IGOO, 1G04, 1G09, 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.'

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 wliicli varies from 39° to 90' Fahrenheit, presents successively barley, rye,
and the quinoa {Clienopodiwn Quinoa) of cold countries, wheat and maize, the fig and

PKONS OF THK VAM.KT OF AREQT'IPA.

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 du.st on
the threshold of that region of cerros, this long strij:) 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 with 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.

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

' The Ardca alba, or white heron, and the I'hcenicopterus, or flamingo, observed in the time of the first Incaa, have
long since disappeared from these countries.

PERU.

in form, and so closely set as to hide with a verdant curtain the base of tlie hill on the
summit of Avhich stand the church and houses of Tiabaya, a small town once renowned
for its drinking and dancing festivities. Till now the difficulties 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 ranchos 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 con-
versation 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

Farmer (Chacarero) of the Valley
of Areqiiipa.

A Farmer's Wife (Chacarera) of the
Valley of Arequiija

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 vip 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 trachytic 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 reunioiis. All that is grotesque and revolting in the world of im-
agination 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

ILAY TO AREQUIPA.

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 {cliicha), 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 OP OCONGATK, TIABAVA, AND ClIARO.

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.

Fi'om 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 wisp of straw for their emblem — men and women
in many-coloured garments, with complexions like sepia, and hair flowing down
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-

•>•>.

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 whicli 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

HAMLET OF .SACHACA.

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 fliite and guitar, Avithout 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; Avhose only fault — a very
innocent one — ^is to organize an emeute once a month, and set up a ncAv president of the
republic. Alas!" I concluded with a sigh, "to what Nova Zembla, or what Papua,
innocent of civilization, would it be necessary to direct one's steps to find a worthy
parallel to such a people!"

Beyond Yanahuara, a little village remarkable for nothing but its name (black
breeches) and its springs of sparkling water riinning in granite channels, the houses are
closer together, and border both sides of the road. Drinking places now become

1LA.Y TO AREQUIPA.

more frequent, their white and red streamers waving in the air like the wings of
ilamingoes. Troops of Ihimas laden with dried tigs, 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 rapiil 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'oeil 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 Avater
to make rings. There were none of these gentlemen on the bridge, however, when
we passed, nor did a single short-petticoated chola exhibit herself 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 Avhicli time, when the sun is beginnhig 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 Wahhebwoman.

24 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 Calls 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 Avheel
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 Vkar
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 Avhich
we exchanged. A quarter of an hour after this affecting scene the door of my house,
situated in the Eue 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 were 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
tdl 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, " ariqqu^pay"^ 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-qquipay,
by corrnption arequipa, formed from the affirmative particle ari, and from qqu^pay, the imperative of the verb, may be
understood in two distinct senses: the verba qqueparini (to remain behind), and qquepacani (to contain within certain
bounds, \niderstoo(l of capacity or extent), both make qquepaij in the imperative.

ILAY TO AREQUIPA.

Valera simply observes that the word Arequipa signifies "sonorous or loud-
sounding trumpet." In the idiom of the children of the Sun qu6pa 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 1536, on the 5th of July, Pedro

THE AUTHOR 8 HOUSE AT AREQUIPA.

Anzurez de Campo Redondo, 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 1609. 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

26 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 Quellca, at the mouth of the
valley, the waters 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 600 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
beino- symmetrically laid out. It is divided into five quarters, which are subdivided
into eighty-five blocks {ties or cuadras), giving a total of 2064 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 Avomen, a B^guinage 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.

The churches and convents, constructed for security against earthquakes, present
little that is remarkable in architecture. The walls are built of stones to half their
height only; all the rest is woodwork, plaster, or loam. The interior arrangement
of the convents is always 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, which rise from forty to fifty feet above the
ground, are sometimes strengthened by double arches, and supported by walls, generally
smooth, from seven to eight feet thick. In an architectural point of view, the interior
of these churches is no doubt a little naked, but that nakedness is more than redeemed
by the ornamentation of their fagades, where the architect, no longer fearing to
compromise the safety of his work, 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.

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 tfiacatithus, 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 Avith 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 Ai-equipa — 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, when 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 fa§ade. 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

CHOLO or AREQUIPA.

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 ahvays unclouded.

Notwithstanding the imposing appearance of the modern cathedral, it is im-
possible not to regret the destruction of its predecessor, whose 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 Avas 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 indifierence 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 sol 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
would 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. 33

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, bouquets
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

34 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 mino-led 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 when 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 mazomora 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 sistei'hood excels in petits-fours (little patties), and in a con

I LAY TO AREQUIPA.

'Kvt':^

• vv.

fiture of chicken stewed in milk of almonds : this is the manjar 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 ordinary 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 j^oi f'" /^^ ii^ 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
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 seriores 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 cAr Constance} Eight days previously, such of the nuns as had

'Quadrilles for the occasion, in which some appropriate action is introduced; known to some of our readers, perhaps,
as "improved quadrilles." — Tr.

Chola or Arequipa.

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.

APPEARANCE OF THE HOUSE-TOPS OF ABEQUIPA.

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 rule 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,
carrjring with 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 nims, and the
3weetnes.s of intercourse with them.

I LAY TO AREQUIPA. 37

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 apachecta (place
of rest), a special vault. The aristocracy of the city make use of certain parts of the
walls, 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 treuch, where all the rats of the country come to visit them.

Now that we have done with the convents of men and women, let us take a
stroll through the city hap-hazard, 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 well paved, laid out at right angles, with side-walks for foot-passengers, sep-
arated from the road by gutters of granite {acequias), in which the torrents of
water which pour down from the Cordilleras roll noisily along to the river. The
houses resemble each other in all but a few details. They are all built of stone, some-
times of gray trachyte, have vaulted roofs, and are pierced with large bay-windows,
which are protected by bars of iron, and shutters inside covered with sheet-iron,
as a precaution against burglars and the shots of emeutiers. The entrance -gate,
generally arched, has two leaves formidably adorned with great S's of iron and heads
of nails. Their width is sufficient for two carriages to pass without touching. These
houses have only a ground -floor and sometimes one story above, which 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 which the women do not
appear except on special occasions, throw deep shadows over the fagades of the
buildings.

The interior of these dwellings is composed of two courts en suite, paved with
pebbles, and bordered with broad foot-paths {teredas). 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 arranged,
in most houses, upon the two lateral faces of this entrance-court, and the bed is
placed under the arch of an arcade, which 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 serves as a dining-room.

It cannot be said that the houses of Arequipa are luxurious abodes. With the

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 flourishes in red ochre
or indigo blue. The Uttle 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

-i :;^^a^ .■5S^i^S^^:^^.; >^;tfSS^X^•^ >^^x-,\ ?>-^x\v;

s;^^

IHHHIII'V''

A BED-ROOM AT ARECJUIPA IN THE OLD STYLE.

the Greek-imperial style, such as Jacob Desmalters was celebrated for manufocturinc
in 1804; sofas of mahogany (the Indian acajou) with sphinx heads and griflins' 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 credence-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

ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 39

modern drawing-room in Arequipa. Chief among these works of art shine the Souvenirs
and Regrets of Dubufte; the Poetic Alphabet of Gr^vedon — 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 Rue 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 whoso 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

40 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 Fadre 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 pecuhar 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 upon 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 words. 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. 41

and the senses of the stranger. In the midst of this mise en scdne, 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 eftect 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 arratigements 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 temhleques, and Avhich 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 nigligS by the women of the aristocracy. On great
VOL. I. e

PERU.

occasions and gala -days 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 AREQUIPA 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.

shawl, w oiii 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 neglige 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

LADY OF AREQUIPA IN RIDING COSTUME.

'V" "^-^

seem to suspect, if we 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 dwaif should be
as round as a tub, and clothed in the traditional costume, which 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. Vida mia, no se olvide U. Mandarme un
Indiecito! (My life, do not forget to bring me a little Indian!) Such is sure to be

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

I ^

IIjIBf -'

4^ -

yi|^^X-v--<^

^■HE^~ ^

'S^-'- ■-^^*^>'

•^-- ' ^ -

^ >'

LADY OF AREQUIPA DRESSED FOR CHURCH, ACCOMPANIED BT HER CARPET -BEARER.

the idea of parting with the Benjamin of her family, but the traveller consoles her
with a new petticoat, and for a little I'um 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.

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 OP AR EQUIP A— CARPET-BEAHEBS 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 oifers 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

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

TYPES OF AHEQUIPA — 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 their
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.

ILAY TO AREQUIPA.

Scientific establishments, colleges, and schools are numerous in Arequipa. Its
faculty of medicine, whose sheet-anchor is bleeding, rivals that of Chuquisaca in Upper
Peru. The university of St. Augustin, the two academies, and the college of In-
dependence, founded by the great Marshal Gutierez de la Fuente, enjoys an undisputed

CHUBCH OF SAN FRANCISCO AT ABEQUIPA.

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 Peru prepared by order of the
liberator Simon Bolivar, the atlas of M. Vaugondy, hydrographer to Louis 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 divers establishments two printing-
offices, each publishing a small journal which records the acts of the government.

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 Uterary 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 AREQUIPA.

{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.^
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

^ One of this sculptor's most celebrated studies is a figure represented without its skin (the icorcM), which images
with wonderful fidelity to nature the muscular structure of the human body. — Tr.

ILAY TO AREQUIPA.

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 hours 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 AREQUIPA — QUICHHA INDIANS.

corners like those of the Chinese and the Mongol races/ 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 resiilted, 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 d 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 lliclla, a piece of woollen
stuff" two feet square, which they wear on their heads like the pschent of the Sphinx,

' The Indian of the Pacific coast descends from the Llipis, Changos, Moquehuas, Quillcas, &c., tribes of one and the
same race, who once peopled the littoral between the sixteenth and twenty-fifth degree of latitude.

VOL. I. J

PERU.

or fasten over their shtnilders as a kerchief with a pin {tupii) 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

"'"tiuja^

TYPES OF THE POPULATION OF AREQUIPA— 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 demi-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, with no opening for air or light but
the door, encumbered with jars and pots of various forms, strewn with broken straw.

ILAY TO AREQUIPA-

the debris of vegetables, bones, and leavings of animals, Avhich 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 Ocllo Huacco {brooding mother), the sister and
wife of the first Inca Manco-Capac. While the coni2)iiny gossip and laugh, or eat

^^^^^^

TTPK8 OF ABEQUIPA — A OHIOHA 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

52 PERU.

white Creoles of the West Indies speak disdaini'ully of fried cod and pumpkins {calalou
de gombauds) 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 val des Poiriers exist only as a tradition. Formerly,
any trifle was made a pretext for a lavish expenditure and indulgence in 2:)leasure.
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 corrfine ourselves to the
mere statement of the decaying condition of Arequipa, a setting star which optinrist
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 revelatiorrs in
respect to the commercial, industrial, and finarrcial 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 calculatiorr and ecoiromy, 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 corrstrained 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 sperrt
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 rrrake 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 Americarr 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 preparirrg them. Three women urrite irr 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

ilfii'J fc'V

mil':''
lllllll ii"^'

iilil

ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 55

geals immediately. Tims 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 comers
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 bombarding
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
Kacine, 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 Avhose 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

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 thej-
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 vigoroiis hand, and who falls temporarily into the arms of her
companions. This victim of Shrove-Tuesday is conveyed to a safe distance from the

ENVIRONS OP AREQUIPA— CHOLO OP TINOO.

ENVIRONS OF ABEQCIPA — CHOLA OP TIABATA.

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 Arequipa 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
Carnato in the manner of Evoh^, 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.

Tlie natives of Sachaca and of Tiabaya celebrate Shrove-Tuesday perhaps in a less

ILAY TO AREQUIPA. 67

ridiculous, though, on 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
Redondo. 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.

GENERAL VIEW OP THE PAMPILLA.

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'oeil 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 (rouenneries). — 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 San Isidro,
renowned for its drinking -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,^ their clothing, and their hair, like

' They speak only Quicliua, but they understand Spanish. The first of these idioms, which M. Huot, who con-
tinued the Annalei 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 aU 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.

60 PERU.

horse-tails, which gives them a wild aspect, these Indians differ entirely from the
mixed caste of Arequipa, 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, 10,654 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 gi"ound 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, 1 went into the kitchen of the estab-
lishment, Avhere 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 atmo.spheric pressure. This phenomenon, which the Quichuas of the moun-

AREQUIPA TO LAMPA.

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
mephytic 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 THK PAMPILLA OR SANDY DEaERT NEAR AREQUIPA.

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 Liliacese.

About twenty minutes elapsed, and whether it was that the remedy began to
operate, or whether my lungs became accustomed by degrees to the rarified air.

t}2 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 pasmna} 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 Camelidte. The arriero looked at
me with great astonished eyes.

"Is it the cur^ 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

* rrom the Quichua verb pascani, to feed or pasture.

AREQUIPA TO LAMPA.

that " man proposes and God disposes ; " the station was 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 regi-etted that I had not, like Joshua, the powei-
to arrest the sun, in order to prolong the day, and to proceed further.

A POSTING STATIOK, OR TBAVELLEH'S HALTING-PL A OE, IN 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
quitted the station of Huallata suff'ering 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 Fampa de los Confites (Sugar-plum Pampas), on account of

(34 PERU.

the ground being strewn with Uttle 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 pent
quelquefois n'^tre 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, we 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 M61e and 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 oiu" 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 LAMPA.

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.

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!"

66 TERU.

exclaimed Nor Medina, drawing rein by the side of this construction, of which I
could not yet divine the character. As I approached he cried out to me to dismount.
I obeyed with the more promptitude seeing that the door of this lodge was wide
open, only it was so low, that to enter 1 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 covered 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 CoUahuas, 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 difierent 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 gi'eat 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. G7

was common to the whole group of peoples speaking the same language: the Toltecs,
the Cicimecs, 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,' 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-Roca, 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 CoUao 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.-' 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.* 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 Tlie guipos, 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 nepohiudtzitzin.
(See Botturini.)

2 From the Quichua cunti (west) and myu (direction): one of the four divisions of tlie empire established by
Manco-Capac.

^ The Aymara ossuary, the existence of which we are the iirst to make known, is situated at the distance of a few
miles S.S.E. of Hay, in the midst of the zone of trachytio ashes, which extends from that port to the entrance of the
valley of Tambo, called the Arenal.

The Quellcas (now QuUcas), the Moquehuas, the Llipu, and the Ckancus (now Changot).

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.

INTKRIOB OP AN AYMABA 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 Avere 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 Chenopodium ambrosioides of the neighbouring valleys, and clothed in
their own garments or wrapped in a sack woven with the leaves of the totora, and sloped

AllEQUIPA TO LAMPA.

off" 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}
When once this tomb was in possession of the number of guests it was meant to

AVMARA INDIAN MUMMY.

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

' In the hillocks of Cocotea, of Tambo, aud of Mejillones, in the neighbourhood of Iquique, in the Morro of Arica,
and other places near the coast, are many huacas or burial-places of Change, Aymara, and Quichua Indians, dating from
a period anterior to the Spanish conquest, in which we find 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 Changes 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 Quichiias, which are scarcely four feet
high, are of an ellipsoidal figure, and lined 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 laised to the level of the chin, its elbows resting upon
the thighs, and ita 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 ca-ses very much alike, and 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.

70 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 i-esurrection "

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 Avhich 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;
who 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
was 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 even 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 peruvianus).
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 {Colymbidw), 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 lagime I discovered another exactly like
it, but situated upon the right bank of the watercourse which we were following. Nor

AREQUIPA TO LAMPA.

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 de Cuevilla, took the name of the liio 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 iniined

THE LAKE OF GOLD AND LAKE OP 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.

72 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 COMPUEKTA.

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 Nor Medina, who entered just then followed by the Indian, he came near me.

"I do not care for elagua," I 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?"

AREQUIPA TO LAMPA. 73

" Nothing is more easy," he replied, in the same low tone. Then turning to the
woman, "Mamita," said he, "go and see if the mules 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 he had already cut.

" Mamita," he said, in reply to her cry of rage, " this fowl is very thin."

"Monster!" she cried in Quichua, "dog of a M^tis, thief, murderer! To kill a
cock that I myself reared, and 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 elagua that you 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, 1 took from my pocket a piece 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 hens] 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 imison. Whilst the Indians took off their cloaks the woman lighted
one of those resinous torches, done up in the spathe of the banana-tree, and which

VOL. I. 10

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 6lagua.

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 Bios — 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 we
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 irom 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 were veiled by a
thick mass of vapours. After a moment these vapours began to move in masses
that rolled over one another, and from opaque white changed to transparent red;
then the immense curtain was rent, and we beheld in all their splendour the ethereal
blue and the orb of the rising sun.

The distance from Compuerta to Cabana, which we intended to reach before

AREQUIPA TO LAMPA, 75

night, is estimated at six leagues; but these six Hispano-American leagues are equal
to nine French leagues, or twenty-seven miles. Moreover, the landscape, a very
unimpressive one, offered 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. Not 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, wei^nerias, loasas, lysipomias, lobelias, &c., for
the most part white, justifying the local saying, Oro en la costa y plata en la sierra.^

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

* Oold on the coatt and diver in the nerra. Almost all the flowers which grow in sight of the Pacific Ocean, and
which are of the Aiter, Helianthus, Hieracium, Actinea, and Chrysanthemum characters, are in fact of a golden-yellow colour ;
while those which we meet with in the Sierra are silver-white.

70 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 Peroti. I remembered, too, how vainly I
had rummaged among the reeds and rushes to find the Polygonium amj)Mhiuvi,
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 march round the world, had made a centre of light. With what ethnogra-
phical fervour, with what archaeological 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 Imnger 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 opi^osite 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 [Percnopterus urubu), like undertakers in feathers,
had aligned themselves in that immobility of pose which is the characteristic of this
obscene bird.

AREQUIPA TO LAMPA.

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.

TH2 VILLAGES OF OABAKA AND OABANILLA.

"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 cur^, 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,

PERU.

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 unpolite 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^ 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 palomachay ,^ 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 cur^," 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.

' Runa, man ; puna, plateau ; cuna, the ; — the men of the plateau. This is the name given to the indigenes of the
region of CoUao.

^ 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-chay, sweet turtle-dove, darling turtle-dove,
figures in the greater number of yaravU and poems of the Quichuas.

AREQUIPA TO LAMP A.

Alstrcemrria,
Called by mistake the LiJy of tlie Incaa.

The front of this humble abode was somewhat enUvened 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 alstroemerias which European horticulturists
improperly call the Lily of the Incas} 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 hendiga d U. mamita" (God bless you, little mother),
cried my guide, in a tone at once respectful and familiar.

"Alii llamanta Hueracocha" (Good day, signor), the woman
answered 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 cur^ 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
cur^ was of so pressing a nature as to make it necessary to wake 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 cur^, 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 I"

"With a white-skinned Hueracocha, 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 purposely the
idiom employed by my hosts.

' It is the Narcissus amancaes, not the Alstrameria, which the natives call Lili/ of the Incas.

VOL. I.

g2 PERU.

"Eh! my sister, to work quickly," replied the cur^: "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 curd'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 curd 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 singular 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 ofi'er 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 stufi" of which my clothing was made,
and seemed to give himself up to a physiological examination of which I could 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 cure 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."

AREQULPA TO LAMPA.

"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 you, since you remember those who
suffer and are forgotten."

A thoughtful silence prevailed between us for some minutes.

" Europe is a noble country and her sons have noble heart.s," said the cur^, at
length, as if in reply to sonic anterior meditation. It is to Europe we owe the great

THE CURfi OF MACUSANI, A TRUE PKIEST AOCOBDING 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 spirituaUty, so to speak, to that plastic beauty by taking from

84 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^ 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, I'autel de pierre,
Suffit aux hommes comme k 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 roofi 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 couy^ is only done on one side,
and I have still my omelette to make."

As I apologized to the cur^ 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

• Houppdande in French ; it has neither a collar nor sleeves fitted to the figure, and is geuerally wadded. — Tr.
' The Quichua name of the guinea-pig (Cavia minima).

AREQUIPA TO LAMPA. 85

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 cur6; "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 will 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 cure, " and let us go to the table. Whilst you eat
I will finish saying my rosary."

After I had satisfied my lumger, and Nor Medina had also had his wants supplied,
the cur6 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 cur^ 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 grew 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

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 Vei'onica
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 cur^, "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 biogi*aphers 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 brute-like 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, without having caused to grow a single blade of gi'ass upon its borders.

" Oh, 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. 87

to everything. If I was sustained in this trial, it was by the loving care of my poor
sisters, who sympathized with my sorrows without understanding the cause.

" Cast down by the loss of my illusions, hurt in my dearest sympathies, yet without
anger 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. Eoyalty 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-

83 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 Avhich separates Macusani from the first valleys of
Carabaya, I found in the hollow of a rock a male alpaca just born; the mother, avIio
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.^ 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 prociiring 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. Subsequently, 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; people 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
distress 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

* Doa Jose de San Martin commanded the liberating army of Peru, and assumed the title of Protector,
August 3d, 1821.— Tr.

AREQUIPA TO LAMPA.

<*Av,

m^'

piastre a day to assist us to live. My petition had the honour 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, we 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 cur6 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-
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 cur(5, 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 slecjx

Dame Veronica.

9Q 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
priest 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 Avas
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 I" he replied, raising his hat to show how he

AREQUIPA TO LAMPA, 91

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,
caramba! is it not the finest thing in the world 1"

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 nimbm 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 obtiisifolia) ,
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 was 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,

PERU.

Imving 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

BACCHARIS OBTUSIFOLIA.

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 Eranthis gracilis, the nectarium of which,
or the petalloid scale which serves as a nectary, can contain nothing but an acrid juice
of venomous properties like that of the Eanunculacese. 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, we 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. 93

iridescent hues of a dove's neck. The eastern hills assumed a bluish hue, and as
evening approached vi^ere 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 mimhres,
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. Nevei'theless as we 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
Senor 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 me?" From the singularity of this reception,
and the flushed face of the draper, I concluded that I had interrupted him in his

PERU.

worship of the "divine bottle," 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 welcome," 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

VIKW 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 up 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 down, each began shoulder-
ing his neighbour aside to make room for me. I squeezed in between two lovely
women, a little passe, 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 dog, 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 what articles I traded in. When
I told them that I was travelling through America with nothing but an album and a

AREQUIPA TO LAMPA. 95

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 eflfect, 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 bocaditos, or choice little morsels of food
which they put in my mouth with their foi'ks, 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

QG PERU.

angel iu comparison with the society in which she was — beat up the white of an egg,
and dipping her cambric handkerchief in tliis salve, she applied it to my burn like
a compress. I soon felt quite revived, and by 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,^ which sunk and disappeared, but rose again to the sxirface
of the liquid. Then each of the company, taking from their host the gigantic
tumbler, and dipping his Ups 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 down 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 Chili 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 Chili 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
Amaryllis aurea and A. flammea, 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
coast of Chili, by Captain Frezier, 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 convoys of asses and mules provision the ninrkets of tlie principal cities of the
Sierra with European and tropical fruits.

AREQUIPA TO LAMPA.

for a moment to the flying frippery of their garments; the men flourished their hand-
kerchiefs; the zamacueca 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
ville 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

5«»«**»

AT LAMPA — PREPARATION OF 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 collared 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
pourhoire and be discreet," I added, slipping into his hand a piastre; "for if you tell
where I am, the muleteer who accompanies me will not fail, under some pretext or
other, to give you a thrashing before we leave the house." The mozo was sharp
enough to understand. "Come, monsieur," he said, pocketing the money, "this is
the festival of San Firmin, 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."

98 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 arriero 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
stijBfened 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 gar9on : " 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 Hgle 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,^ are contained one
capital city/— the town we have just left — forty-three villages — read hamlets of the most

' The Pilsara-Ayaviri, the rivers of Lampa and Cabauilla, and some streams of less iiaportance. The three first
named debouch iu the Lake of Titicaca.

AREQUIPA TO LAMPA. 99

wretched description — and 108 pascanas or shepherds' huts. 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 water from one to three leagues in circumference, which characterize the
provinces of CoUao in general, and that of Lampa iu particular, sheep, cattle, and
Camelidse cross and multiply marvellously. Butter in bladders, cheeses shaped like

THB MORNING AFTER THE FESTIVAL OF SAINT FIRMIN.

gruyere, smoked mutton (sessina), the beef of oxen and llamas cut into strips {charqwi),
candied batatas^ {chuno) — of which we count three varieties, the tunta, the Dioraya,
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,

' Batatas are the "sweet potatoes" that were commonly used in England three centuries ago, not only as pot-herbs,
but candied, and made into sweetmeats. — Tr.

100 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, nevertheless, 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 AtuncoUa 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 Chenopodiums — the one sweet, called quinua real} the other
bitter, called canahua, the grains of which are eaten by the indigenes in their soups,
and the leaves in their chupe.

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 cur^s, 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.

• By corruption quinoa.

THE I'UNA OK PLAIN OF LLALLL

THIKD STAGE.

LAMPA TO ACOPIA.

The plain of Llalli. — How to soften tlie heart of the Indians and procure a dinner. — Affecting history of a mother-
in-law and a daughter-in-law. — Manibiia 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 aj 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 cur6 Miranda. — A pastoral with a curious accompaniment
of stone-throwing.— Santa- Rosa. — A fete in the midst of the snows. — The postmaster of Aguaa-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.

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 we 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 Rinconada,^ 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

* Recoin, nook or corner: that is to say, the nodus formed by the reunion of the Sierras of Cailloma and Huilcanota
and the chain of the Western Andes. Junctions of this kind are called porco by the people of the country.

102 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, constructed 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 HueracocJia} 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, with 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 Avomen 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 arriero, 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 afiable, 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,

* This name, gay 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 nobilitv
given to the first comers (and their descendants), and equivalent to caballero in Spanish.

LAMPA TO ACOPIA.

103

some onions, some dried pimento, and some handfuls of frozen potatoes,^ which the
honest woman had tried to hide from us. Now that the pot of roses was discovered^
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
soup (chupe). To the sentiment of repulsion which our appearance had provoked
in the two serranas (mountaineers) soon succeeded a touching confidence. Whilst

A HOTBEB-IN-LAW AND HEB DAUOHTBR-IN-LAW— QDICHD A INDIANS.

the chupe was in preparation they ingenuously told us all their little afiairs. 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^ of her sad life." While listening to her the date lilia of Virgil*
came into my mind and awakened a feeling of tenderness.

* Potatoes alightly crushed and exposed for some nights to the frost. Boiled with cheese they are much relished
by the inhabitants of the Sierra.

* An allusion to a French proverb: decouvrir le pot aux roses, is to find out a secret. Its equivalent in English
is to let the cat out of the bag.— Tb.

' The French couchant, used figuratively for the decline of life, cannot b6 rendered in correct English without
spoiling the pathetic beauty of the old woman's expression. — Tr.

* jEneid. vi. 883. Manibus date lilia plenis — give me lilies in handfuls. — Tr.

104

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 pecuUar
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

THB "BOTAL OOUBIEB."

he did not dare to abuse his mother, but made no scruple of beating his wife 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 ACOPIA.

105

towards us at a pace called in military language the i)as 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 nacional" I replied. " The word royal is erased, as seditious, from the
dictionary of a republic."

The arriero 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

PAMPA OP LLALLI— VILLAGES OP CUPI AND D'OCUVIKI.

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 snulF-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 Ocuvu'i, 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-

100 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 Umachiri, as
silent and close as those we had left behind us, and, like them, of singular ugliness.
A league from Umachiri 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 respected, we will not 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 campo-santo, bear among the Indians the
name of apachecta. As to the monument in question, it is composed at first of
a handful of stones, that a chasqui, an arriero, 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 with 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, Erythrinse (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 ofi'-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 reUgious 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

LAMPA TO ACOPIA.

107

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,

APAOHBOTA, OR WAYSIDE ORATORY OP THE QDIOHUA 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 wars
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 flooded 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.

108 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 with 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, ai*e 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 Ammon),
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 dogs, 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.

LAMPA TO ACOPIA.

Ill

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 brujo (sorcerer), for with this simple people science
and sorcery are synonymous. He 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 ^olus: "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.

112 PERU.

The uext 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 give 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
Avith 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.^

About six miles from Pucara we witnessed, though at too great a distance to
appreciate the details, one of those cacharparis, 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

* I have often witnessed inundations of this kind, apart from the great annual 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 daybreak 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 sneak, the foundation of the Andean chain.

LAMP A TO ACOPIA.

113

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 be left to drink,
and 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 CACHAETARI, Oil FAREWELL FESTIVAL OF THE QUICHUA INDIANS.

violent grief, and saluting them by waving a rag of baize in default of a handkerchief
These eaeharparis are sometimes repeated at several stages, that is to say, they fini.sh
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,
flid not hesitate to reply, when I asked him who these people were: "These are
Indians of rujuja or Caminaca whom the sub-prefect of Lampa has sent to work in
some mine of the Raya."

Ayaviri, where we arrived about four o'clock, is a village of the same family as

114

PERU.

those which we had left behind us. Its situation upon the left bank of the river (if
Pucara, a wooden bridge, a good sized church built of stone and mud without 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 Maria, 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 OURK OP AYAVIRI.

amuses himself with a little quiet trade in wool, butter, and cheese, which often obliges
him to be 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 coscnrrons^
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 £00
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.

' Coscorron, a kiud of blow with the fist which Peruvian schoolmasters give their scholai-s in place of using the ferule.
I say, a iritid of blow, because in the coscorron the fist is not fairly doubled as when the puiietazo, 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. 115

For an instant I Hattered myself I had 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 povreton, or poor-spirited fellow. Without
troubling myself with the motives which the cur^ 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 Calixlo 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 cacique 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 Avere 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 186 miles), Ayaviri had been
one of the 916 stations set out on that line. With such illustrious antecedents, the
l)lace was certainly entitled to a few words 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 were 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, thei-e 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 Avas 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 ])erched upon a rock the shepherd playing on a flute

116

PERU.

or tiageolet. If you possess a little imagination, and ever so small an animal Avitli
horns is feeding at the foot of the rock, you will picture to yourself Argos and the
cow lo. Mercurius septem muket 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.
Raising 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! scoundrel I" you ciy, at the same time throwing a stone at the shepherd to

A SHEPHERDS HUT IN THE SIERRA 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 awny, 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 1
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

LAMPA TO ACOPIA.

117

from the storms of the Cordillera, built as it is at the foot of the snowy chain of
Huilcanota. As a triHing 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 SIEKRA 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 questioning 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

118 PEKU.

a neighbouring estancia, of the name of Funculluta, 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 Rosa
had united with the Indian estanciei'o (farm-bailiffs). My informant added tliat "the
festival had only commenced the day before and would last two days longer, and as
the estancia of Punculhitu 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 were returning from Puncullutu to Santa Rosa; others, on the contrary, were
going from Santa Rosa 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 Avith its opposite currents,
I said to myself, at the sight of these indigenes, one half of whom stumbled along,
while the 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, uhich 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 their
posts, and their admirers with empty purses were fluttering 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 L-j 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. hq

dead. Flageolets of different tones, v/ith their mouths iu 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 f6te, 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 Rosa 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 llaya} 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 Rosa,
and crossed at Ayaviri. At some fifty rniles 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),^ gives birth to a stream which is enlarged some leagues further down
by the overflow of the lagune of T>angui, and takes the name of Huilca-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

• For the Spanish word rai;a (ray, limit, dividing line), by which the inhabitants of the country designate this
passage of the Cordillera of H\iilca, the Indians substitute nota, which in the Quicfaua idiom has the same signification
as raya in Spanish : hence Huilcanota, or the boundary line of Huilca.

* The Huilca, or as corrupted, ri7ca, is a tree of the natural order of Leguminosce, division Mimosce. In the Argentine
provinces it is known as the algaroba; it is very common there, 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.

120

PERU.

reach the post of Aguas-Calientes,' to get a morsel of something to eat, and, after a
night's rest, have done with tlie 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 I^angui, 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 I.AKK8 OF SISSACOCllA AND 11 U I LC ACOCH A, ON THE RAYA PLATEAU.

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, and 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 ma.ster of the post, a fat and
ruddy-faced Indian whose black tresses hung almost to the ground, shoiild 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

' This name is derived from a spring of hot water which comes in slender jets from a rock level witii the gi-oiind,
about two hundred yards eastward from the post-house.

LAMPA TO ACOPIA. 121

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 wonderingly and wrath-
fuUy. "I have come from Santa Rosa, and am dying of hunger; can't you get me
something to eatV

" Manancancha, manamounanichar} go to the devil, and let me alone!" he replied.

1 philosophically allowed this ebullition of bile to pass unnoticed.

"Now listen," I said; "your conversation with these mamacunas"^ — so I designated

the group of gossips — "has made me aware that General L is on his way to

CoUao, 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;^ you will not beat a poor pongo* who never did you any
harm!"

' 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, Manancancha — 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 mozo 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 cluipS. 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
80 far as to beat the proprietor of the animal into the bargain.

2 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.

* In the great cities, pongos are Indians of the lower class, who very reasonably value their services at fifteen francs
a month. They are employed indoors to cany 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 punca, gate, by corruption ^on^o. They
are the porters of the country.

122 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 chupe 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 tAvo that will induce him to dispense with any ceremony on his
account.

The postmaster let go the border of mj poncho, overcome with joy.

"O 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 chup6 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 Avomen 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
Avomen were charged with the cooking of the chup6, which consisted of an old hen, a
bit of dried mutton, and some real potatoes, the chuno 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 Avorn-out
appetite of a despot, or to tickle the nervous papillte 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 would trust no one but himself with the handle of his frying-pan. His
guinea-pig singed, washed, cleaned, spread open, larded over, sprinkled Avitli ground
pimento and kept flat in the pan by means of a stone placed on the belly, only aAvaited
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

LAMPA TO ACOPIA.

123

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 fingers 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

\>\5 ^i^''^^^^^^^^®^

PREPABATIOK OF A SUPPER AT THE STATION OF AGU AS-C A LIENTES.

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,^ 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 Hire a la cantonade: a phrase of the theatre, for merriment heard behind the scenes. — Tr.

124 PERU.

"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 influeuce. The honest fellow will
compensate you by his cuisine for the loss of the vain honoura he would have rendered you. He excels in fritnres,
and with a common guinea-pig can make a dish fit for the gods. It is in this quality of cuisiuier 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 jts rise
from the Lake Sisacocha, on the Eaya 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 chupds.

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 square 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 df, 'Si'cuani, not so much as a devotional offfering as
an atonement or apology, in dread of the Inquisition and the viceroy, for the immense
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 ordre 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 Pumacahua, who in 1781 had betrayed
Tupac Amaru to the Spaniards, received, thirty-four years afterwards, the price of his

LAMPA TO ACOPIA.

125

services. The Spaniards, who had promised him the epaulettes of a colonel, deferred
the promotion till they settled their debt in full by cutting off 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 Quellhuacocha, as it is called in the country, which is situated on the
Iieights to the east of tlie village. Let any one picture, if he can, a liquid sapphire

SIOUANI, SEEN FKOM THE HEIGHTS OF QUELLHUACOCHA.

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

126

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; we 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,
scorise, and pumice. This volcano, the crater of which is inclined from north to south.

THE TEMPLE OF HUIBACOCHA, ACCORDING TO THE HISTORIAN GABCILASSO 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,^ 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 witTi the province of Canas, a single government, under the name of the

* Plain of Blood, so called because there the Inca Huiracocha completely defeated his father Yahuar-Huacac, who,
having been 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 in the engagement.

LAMPA TO ACOPIA.

127

Corregimiento de Tinta ?* 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,^ the eighth Inca, in remembrance of a dream in which an old man with a
long beard, wearing a flowing robe, and holding a chained dragon, had appeared to
that prince when as a young man he kept the sheep of the emperor Yahuar-IIuacac,
his father, in the plains of Chita.^

TEMPLE OF HUIRACOCHA, ACCORDING TO THE HISTORIANS CIE5A DE LliON 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 pis6. 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, served 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 and wife of this Inca, who was equally unlike her features in the comparative fairness
of her skin, was called Mama Rnniu (the mother-egg).

^ 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 conquerors did not introduce into America until two centuries later.

128

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 Cie9a de Ldon and Acosta. He also states
that it had no roof, as the dream which it commemorated occurred in the country,
sub Jove crudo, and its interior decoration consisted of nothing but a simple cube of

BUINS OF THE TEMPLE OP HUIRAOOOHA.

black porphyry, upon which was placed the statue of the mysterious old man seen
by Huiracocha 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 nothing 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 Cie9a de Ldon 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.

129

of Peru. From regard for those respectable old women Kecord and Tradition, I 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 walls 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-

VILLAOE AND LAGDKB OP COMBAPATA.

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,

130

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 file de I'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.

THU OEUOIFIX IN THE CHUHOH OP 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 quality of the chicha
brewed by its inhabitants. For a long time the process by which the matrons of that

LAMPA TO ACOPIA.

131

village obtained their local beer, the smell and transparency of which remind one of
the manzanilla 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

BBIDGE OP 0SIEB8 OVER THE EIVER OF COMBAPATA.

door 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, D^sirabode's artificial teeth working up and
down from morning to night, in their glass case.

132

PERU.

After Combapata, the traveller's next halting-place is 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 THB MAIZE FOR MAKING CHIOHA.

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 Peru, 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,

133

villages of St. Peter and St. Paul de Cacha, Sicuani, and Marangani, as far as the
Raya plateau.'

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

■??TS^

THE VILLAGE OP OBEOOAOnPl.

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

' The present limits of the two provinces imperfectly recall those of their ancient territory.

134 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 Avork 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 cur6 received their oath
of fealty and obedience to the King of Spain, then sprinkled them with holy water,
pronounced the customary blessing, Vete con Bios, 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 ckacco, 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 ;^ 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 were Sicuani, Tinta, Checca, Checcacupi, Langui, and
Yauri, comprising twenty-three villages, the situation of which on the mountain or in

• Para saeiar de este modo la sed insaciable dd 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 d 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
coiirUry, often drives the oppressed to commit atrocious deeds, for which the circumstances are some excuse.

LAMPA TO ACOPIA. 135

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 upon 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 artifice 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 day 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: Kuhos aneriphto. May destiny
be favourable to me, as to Csesar!"

"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.

136

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, du
haiit en bos, 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— aio. 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 tliat he was in the
sulks. A Peruvian arriero is very susceptible. The least thing ottends him; he is shut
up by the merest trifle. His humour is a limpid lake, moved by the slightest zephyi\
The mere fact that I had passed from one side to the other of the Huilcamayo 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.

FOUETH STAGE.

ACOPIA TO CUZCO

Dissertation on the province of QuispicaucLi, which the reader raay pass by. — Acopia, its pretended ruins and its
tarts. — Compromising hospitality. — The widows Bibiana and Maria Salom6. — A demonstration 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 cnce 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
Jeronimo. — 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 pei-son of a muleteer. — The author packs his trunks with
one hand, while writing his memoirs with the other. — Cuzco, ancient and modern.

The village of Acopia 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 we can say,
geographically speaking, is, that it is inclosed by the provinces of Paucartampu,
Urubamba, Paruro, Cotabamba, Chumbihuilcas, and Canas y Canchis; 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

138

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its rivers or upon the borders of its forests, they are by no means so numerous as
seems to be beheved in Europe. Generally speaking, travellers who have treated of
American anthropology' have singularly exaggerated the number of these redskins.
For that exaggeration there are two causes: first, the amour-jyropre of the traveller,
who 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 Cuzco, 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. ^ The Ques-
picanchis, the Muynas, the Urcos, the Quehuares, the Cavinas, and the Ayamarcas,^
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 then\
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

' D'Orbigny, in his work entitled L'Homme Amiricain, has swelled the sum total of his figures to sjitisfy his own
taste, aud 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 Paucartampu, he has made the tribe of Fau-
cartambinos ; of the Chuncos (a generic name of the savage iu Peru), a distinct caste, &c.

^ From su^/u, direction ; direction from Collao, or the territory of the Collaa Indians. This is one of the { I or
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).

' 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 in the tenth century, before the appearance of Manco-Capac.

ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 139

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 rundle, the
tip of a reed, or a tuft or pompon of variously coloured wool. The favour was as highly
appreciated as it was 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 scofied 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 curacas (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 Avhich 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, Cie9a de L^on, 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

140

PERU,

wiuth two Indian womea, who make tiu» their trade, had datj^befed <m wooden
beadbet at the entrance (^ tJie village, in a fuAaaa to tempt the ^^petites of jgemex^hj.
On dianionntiiig bj tibeae stalk, the womai looked at me ainmltaneon^, with that
sweet eommerdal smile with wfaicfa the ttXkx nsnally greets the bajer, as the serpent
fasrinatf* the Inrd; and I began to reason with mysdf thus: "This road is little
frequented, the pastrj before me has been e^qMsed for a month or two to the detri-

VAKT'SBLLBBS A* ACOFIA.

mental action of the atmoi^here; the layer of dust which corers 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 toifles?" 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
mouthfuls 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. 141

good graces, I therefore offered it to my mole, 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 unfortimate 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 sim 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 gilhouette. 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 llicUa of white wool edged Anth 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.

nattered by the notice of which she was 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 imknown 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 lip& 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 caiigbt
by a whispering and laughing at the doors of the neighbouring houses, apparently
caused by my colloquy with the woman in the white llicUa.

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, pronoimced
distinctly these strange words: —

"Don't shear them too close, Templadora."

142

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

TEMPLADOBA— A HU AKMIP ANPA YEUN AC U NA 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 would
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

ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 143

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 the.m 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 chup6 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 Salom^; 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 p^ons 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 Virgen!" 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 Salom^, "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 . . ."

144 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.

145

smooth as velvet, and presented no sign of a puncture. I inferred from this, in spite
of the woman's remai'k, 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 Tny 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

Y' '''-W!'-: V'''

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

140 PERU.

on their surface; in fine, their motionless waters seemed as if covered with a thin sliin.
I turned my back upon them and retraced my steps. My guide had finished his task,
and was beginning to feci surprised by my long absence. We took leave of Bibiana
and Maria Salomd, 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, we knew not where we should get a dinner, we were not at all alarmed on that
account. The double aspect of earth and sky sxtfficed for the moment to stay oiir
stomachs, and their serenity, reacting upon oiir humour, coloured it with si^arkling
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
knoAving 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 Ave 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 sujDper 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 cuzco.

149

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
Liliacese opened their painted blossoms. Youth is vain and presumptuous ; I thought at
the time that the Flora of the Entre-Sierra had coquettishly displayed her sweetest
treasures to captivate my fancy : at every step a vegetable marvel drew from me a cry

A BED-CHAMBER IN THE CORDILLERA.

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-propre, 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

IHuaro 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

150

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 QUEBRADA OP OUZOO.

them that maps and reports are alike silent upon the subject — a regretable omission
which it is easy, however, to repaii*.

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

ACOPIA TO CUZCO.

163

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 which have slept for a year in their obscure cocoons are transformed.

VILLAGE OF ANDAJE8 IN THE QUEBKADA 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 Avith 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,

154

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 CHINQANA OR CAVE OF QQUEROHUASI.

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,^ 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

^ Pistaches-de-terre, called mani by the inhabitants ; the Arachis hypogaea 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.

155

and its dungeon, like one of Mrs. Kadcliffe's castles. In front of the village, on
the right bank of the Huilcamayo, and on the flank of the cerro Qquerohuasi, there
is a ckingana, 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.

QUAERr OF THE PERIOD OF THE IN0A8.

About three-quarters of a mile north-north-west of Andajes, on the left bank
of the Huilcamayo, 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 propylsea,
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-Tanipu.
It is only necessary that an arch geological 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 Gentilidad, and our ruins nothing more than the stones in the
extraction of which from the cerros the revolted people had been condemned to

156 PERU.

work by the Incas, as were the Athenian captives of old at the Latomiae 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 liuaranhuay,
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 Uicllas and their petticoats yellow.
Here is the parsehuayta, from which they obtain a violet colour; and there the ayrampu,
which gives them a pink. That plant at the foot of the rock is a niarjil, which cures
fever ; and that other further on is the pilli, which is good for a cough. Here is the
amanca'es, which the Spaniards call the "Lily of the Incas ;"^ and the queratica, called
by them the " Saliva of Our Lady." See here, too, the calahuala, the huallma, and
the huanchaca, 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.

' The botanists who have succeeded to Ruiz aud Pavon, 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 Liliaceee which the Peruvians call "Lily of the Incas," is, as we have
before explained, the Narcissus amaneaes.

ACOPIA TO CUZCO.

157

Now in these same scenes she regards me with sullen looks. The streams have dwindled
to a drop of water, the birds have talcen flight, and the flowers with all their beautiful
tints look like tinder. ... gioventu, primavera della 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" CITY.

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 by the lunch we ate on the way, we passed through without
stopping at the town of Quiquijana, called in the Peruvian charts the "Most Faithful."
This Hispano- American fashion of honouring cities by prefixing some sounding epithet

168 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 ftve 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
fine 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^ 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 which 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 patriarchal 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

* After leaving Quiquijana the Huiloamayo 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 Iliiilciimayo, after leaving Quiquijana, bears in succession six different names.

ACOPIA TO CUZCO.

159

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 Mokina,
spreads its waters at the bottom of the eminence on which the village is situated.

THE VILLAGE OP UROOS 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.
Kushes, 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-

160

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 f^tes of the equinox, Raymi and Cittua. 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
dug below the level of its bed. Forty Spaniards and two hundred Indians laboured at
the work for three months. But Avhether 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 which 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.^

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 {leguvies), they harvest
maize and wheat. Apples, pears, 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 {Sarcoramphus urubu), a subject little interesting, and
unsavoury besides; a Conirostre, with black and white plumage, called by the Indians
choclopococho,^ 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 {chihuanco) ; and
the swallow with a white rump 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 off"er 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 Carahidoe and Cicindelidce families
(sparklers); to say nothing of those hexapodal Apterce of the parasitic and sucking
genera which, under the name of fleas, &c., lay their eggs indiff'erently in the thatch
of the houses and the bodies of the indigenes.

If from the earth and the air we 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 Siluridce, the bagre and the suchi, whose length does not exceed

' 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, and the immediate neigh-
bourhood of that river rendered useless the creation of an artificial lake.

* Literally, the precursor of the maize, or who announces the maturity of the maize : from aara-choclo (spike of maize),
and poco-chanqui (one who announces).

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 (mapu-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 barren 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 ranches. 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.'
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 wliich 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 province 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

' It is to tlie Jesuits tliat the greater number of the cities of Peru, and some villages in the Sierra, are indebted for
tlm remarkable organs we find in their churches.

^•r,L. I. 21

162 PERU.

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 separate 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.

163

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,

'THE HEBOIO 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 hopeiless, 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 sufiiciently 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.

ll!4 PERU.

since they belong to liistoiy and are in every Peruvian's month, 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 SOLDIKK OP THE 8IKHBA AND HIS KABONA OR VIVANDIEBE.

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 hstening to his chatter. Apart fi^om 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 Avas
no more honest or worthy creature than Nor Medina, and I never so thoroughly

ALU PI A TO CUZCO. 105

appreciated his virtues and his faults than at the moment when 1 was about to pai t
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
I'emaining 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 ari'ows 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 haul en has, with a singular air. Then, shaking his
head : —

"Oh senor, senor," 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 arriero 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. Wliile I made these reflections we
arrived at San Jeronimo.

166

PERU.

San Jeronimo is a villaj^e 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

BAN JEllOXIMO, A VILLAGE IN THE QUEBRADA OF OOZOO.

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 lucas, namely, the

ACOPIA TO CUZCO.

167

Egyptian pylone (gate of a temple) in an azure field surmounted hy a cuiitur (condor)
with expanded wings. If these prerogatives astonish any of my readers, let me inform
them that the Indians — Cholos, Mdtis, 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 OccUo 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 Quispd walking barefoot for want of shoes, and
driving before him a flock of sheep; a Mamani selling cabbages, carrots, and other

SAN SEBASTIA^f.

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-Phojbus, 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 beheve a local tradition,
was planted by the Inca Capac Yupanqui, and dates from the middle of the thirteenth

168

PERU

century. This patriarchal vegetable belongs to the family of the Cappavidacccy. The
people of the country call it the Chachacumayoc, "Tree of Farewells." Every one vv^ho
leaves Cuzco is supposed to come in company w^ith his relations, friends, and acquaint-
ances to sit imder 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

/^,N^M^

"FAKEWELI.-TBEE" 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-rueda).
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 despedida,
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. 1G9

tlien take, untowardly, the road to Cuzco, to continue, for tlieir own sakes, the festival
commenced under the Farewell-tree for the sake of the traveller.

At the moment when Ave 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-tSte; the man, however, put a good face on the
matter, and smiled as he raised his hat. The woman turned her back upon us, and
looked down as if she were examining 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 Hank of the cerros,
to the convent of La Recoleta,^ 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 Avhicli 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 jloum joyous toivards
the eternal abodes — sedes ceternas Icetus advolavit, as says the epitaph of Father Juan de
Matta, his predecessor, engraved upon a marble slab in the chapel. I can only show
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 France, 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,

^ This is the most modern of the convents of Cuzco. It was built in 1599 at the cost of a rich and charitable
Spaniard, named Torribio de Bustaniente, 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. 82

170 PERU.

gave me the pompoua title of "Excellence." When, however, it happened that I had
forgotten my purse or had no money, he forgot to bless me, and saluted me coldly
and briefly as plain "SeTim:"

As to the younger monks, I had so often surprised ihem 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 mmacuecas 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
Uttle 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.

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 " {Chaire-da-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
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 which the same Indians who made the before-mentioned excavations had taken
those enormous blocks, which are still regarded with astonishment. Only, after
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

ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 171

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, so hard that it would be difficult to
scratch them with the point of a knife, look as if they had been wrought and polished
by a quarryman who was at the same time a skilled mason. I doubt if a modern
cabinetmaker would be able to polish more perfectly an article of furniture in rosewood
or mahogany.

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 nucclios [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. It 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,
called the Faubourg of Recoleta. The bed of a torrent, nearly always dry, and strewn
with stones, runs tlirongh 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.

I know not if this 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 in 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-ho7ida (deep grotto), the continuation of a stony ravine by which the springs

172 PERU.

of the Sapi roll their waters into the plain. From this relatively high point the
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 Recoleta is intersected, on
the right by the escarpment of San Bias, one of the eight faubourgs of Cuzco,^ and on
the left by a narrow passage bounded by walls of cyclopean structure. This passage
is the Calle del Triiinfo. The 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.

As we were emerging from the gloom which always overshadows this street of
" Triumph," whose long unlovely walls seemed to absorb the light. Nor Medina, who
had proceeded a little in advance of me, 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-
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,^ 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.

"If I might venture to speak to monsieur!" he said, after having counted the
money and put it into a ratskin-purse Avhich 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."

' According to the statisticians of the country, we ought to say ten, because they considei* the villages of San
Sebastian and San Jeronimo suburbs of Cuzco, although they are separated from the city by a plain of about seven miles
square.

' 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. 173

"Is that all you have to say to mel"

"That is all, monsieur."

"Well, good day, mon ami, and God see you safe home again. My compliments to
your Avife when you get back to Arequipa."

The arri^ro 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 cacharpari, 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 cacharpari 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.

174

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 Avhich have been separated 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 question,
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 tjrpe 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 Avhence 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,

ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 177

tlie 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, east, 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 counti'y of peoples without kings; these again to Brahmavarta and to Aryavarta —
countries of Brahma 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 able 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, imtil a sudden flood caiises 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^ 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 entrepdt 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,^ 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,^ 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, mussim; that of the north-east is called the mussim of Malabar, that of the south-west the
mussim of Aden. Arabian navigators called it the maussim, and the Greeks hippalos,

2 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.

' About 2200 years b.o.

VHT. T »®

178 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,
would 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 efiace among them the pure ideal
of the past, must have sensibly altered its form. Borrowing from those among whom
they sojourned some formulae of language and of new ideas, they also left behind them
something of their own. Hence the analogies and ditterences 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 Rios,
Fernando de Alva, Gama, and Clavigero have spoken in turn, and which they designate
as the age of giants, the age of fire, the age of air, and the age of water, embrace,
according to these authors, a period of 18,028 years,^ that is to say, 23,972 years^ less
than the prehistoric period of Egypt according to her priests, and 6020 more than- the
Persian ages of the Zend-avesta {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

' In Hesiod's Theogony, also, 18,028 years are assigned to the four ages of the world, which are related to four great
revolutions of the elements.

^ 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 tlie gods was fixed by some at 42,000
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
a 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.

ACOPIA TO CUZCO.

179

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 be 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 Colla, the third Tocay, the fourth Pinalmay.
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 Caucus, 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-SaucM. 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 histoi'ical 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.^

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 Andes, 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, Avhich 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

' It is this dynasty wliich, according to Garcilaso, Pedro de Cieja, 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 years.

^ The material difticulties 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 pre-occupatiou, and the end of a
thousand expedients.

180 PERU.

method of picture-writing {escritura pintada, 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 estabhshment 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 fi'om religious differences, or, what is more probable, from the insufficiency of
resources in a territory that was too thickly populated;^ 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 Soiith 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 porti'ait 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-rdme 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 Tiahuanacu 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 Tamou, the European or Indo-Germanic race
of which the Spanish historiographers have made choice probably from regard for

' The break-up of the great Mirahha nation, which occurred little more than half a century ago, had no other cause
than the failure of the game aud fish in the territory, some ninety miles square, which they had occupied during the
previous century in the basin of the Auiazon, between the Japura and the Eio Negro.

ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 181

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,^ 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
Rafn, in his Antiquitates Americance (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 diflused 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 equal 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 fiict 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 two
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 peiiod, and which, as we have before observed, left the predominant
race in communication with the ideas Avhich continued to flow in from the south of

1 These Irish colonists, ou their return from Virginia and Carolina, established themselves in the south-east
part of Iceland, at Papyli, and in the little island Papar, where, after they had left, the Normans found bells, croziers,
books, and other things used in worship. Hence they -were supposed to have been called Papar, papce (fathers),
clergy, in the work of Diouil, a monk who wrote in the ninth century, De Mcnaura Urbia Terrm.

182 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 namou 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 {maguey) 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 teinples, 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 ejioch. 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 we 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 Chucviytu,
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.

183

northern hemisphere the architectnral 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 OK THE PERIOD OF THE INCAS.

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 Tiahuanacu.

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 Tiahuanacu 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 creux), representing the Misraites kneeling before

184

PERU.

their god, and a series 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 Cie9a 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.^

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.

ANDANEBIAS OB SUSTAINING WALLS.

It is often asked, after reading the almost always hypciL-oIical 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 Kaila9a, of Persepolis, of Karnac, or of
Ipsamboul; and this not merely from an artistic or decorative point of view, but simply

* "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 up as if crossing 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.

18n

as a work of labour and masonry? Let any one look up, in the pages of Herodotus,
Diodorus, and Strabo, the number of men^ and the years occupied in building the
great monumental edifices 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

FBAOMENTS OP AYMARA SCULPTURE.

about the middle of the fifteenth century by the twelfth luca, 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, which they called cquellay; lead, which in its native state they called titi, and

' According to Herodotus, a hundred thousand men, who were relieved every three months, were employed in
quarrying and conveying the stone for the Great Pyramid {Euterpe, cxxiv.)— Tb.

VOL. I. 84

186

PERU.

caca after it was melted; copper, which they called anti; and an alloy of two or more
metals, to which they gave the name of champpi}

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 reqiiired, then cut the outlines with a chisel,'-^ 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 CORREQUENQUE.

8CDLPT0KBS OF THE PERIOD OF THE INCAS, FOUND BY THE AUTHOIt IN THE BACK-TABD OF A HOUSE IN THE CALLE DEL TRICnFO.

{

wood of the huarango {Mimosa lutea) 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^ among them all, whom we have read and re-read, and annotated in

' Tin and glass were also known to these indigenes, they call the first yuractiti (white lead), and the second cquespi/.
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.

^ The two sculptures found by me in the back-court of a house in the street of Triumph — one that of a sphinx
Correquenqiie (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 blows of a flint, a process, says Garcilaso, employed by the workmen in the
time of the Incas, who cut and polished with blows of hard flints called hihuanas the stones destined for their edifices,
and, he adds, gnawed and crumbled rather than cut them.

' The gasconnades, at once simple and audacious, scattered at random through the works of Garcila-so and hip
competitor, Pedro de Ciega, would fill a considerable volume. We cite the following hap-hazard by way of specimens : —

Speaking of the mattedlu {Hydrocotyle mvltiflord), which from the time of Garcilaso the Indians have eaten as a

ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 187

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 Garcilaso, 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 Tonatiuh 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 (xamilli), 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

Siilad, and of which they made poultices for sore eyes, which they no longer do in our day, our historiogi-apher recites
the marvellous cure which he operated with the above-named herb. A translation of his words would only weaken
them : — " Yo se la puse a un muchacho que tenia un qjo para sallarle dd casco: estava inflamado como un pimiento, tin
divisarse lo bianco ni prieto del ojo, sino hecho una 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 aod, he visto d mo^o en
Uspana, y me ha dicho que tie mas de aqud ojo que tuvo enfermo que del olro." The reflection which terminates this recital
is a true touch of comedy.

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 Ciega, he 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 pSt^s, puddings, and force-meat balls {morciilas y longanisas),
made of the flesh, the blood, and the bowels of men.

188

PERU.

peoples place between the advent of Bochica their legislator and the first dynasty
of the Huancas, 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, tapia, 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

RUINS OF A FORTBE8S OF SUN-1)KIKD BBICKS (tAPIAS) IN THE DISTRICT OF OLLANTAY-TAMPU.

debris of earthen walls. Such are the ruins of two 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 diff'erent 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 OUantay-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,^ as likewise is their idea of monolithic construc-

* See Strabo — Chardiu — Niebuhr.

ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 189

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'oeil 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,^ the new Horus, pastor of the peoples
to come, crossed the punas of CoUao, followed by his companion, and after a march
of 240 miles in a north-westerly direction, arrived on the heights of Huanacotd
(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 precai'ious 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 tho 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

' Some modern writers have spoken, but erroneously, of a wedge of gold. The Spanish texts agreeing as regards
— uaa vara de do» pies de largo y un dedo de grueso — can have no e(iuivocal meaning.

190 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 AccUhuaci, 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 {chimpu). 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 Quiquijana 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 Avife, according to the custom
of the primitive races, his eldest sister Mama Cora.^ 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 upon 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,^ 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
Botocudos of Brazil, as well as the Orejones, the Ccotos, and the Anguteros of Peru.

^ 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).

^ The sculptors of Huamanga and the painters of Cuzco of tlie eigliteenth 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 witliout
disquieting ourselves about the artistic efiect.

AOOPIA TO CUZCO. 191

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 Sim.

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 own particular name) they called Quilla, 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 punchau. The
morning which preceded them was called pacari, and the night which followed tuta.

The lunar spots, which they were also acquainted with, as they were with the
revolution of Venus, the Milky Way, and the Southern Cross,^ 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 him in her

' Venus, on account of her radiancy, was called Coyllur Chascca, the star with the bristling hair (the French che-
velure means streaming light as well as hair). The Milky Way they called CatachUlay, and the Southern Cross Crinita.

192 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 Cie9a, and Acosta.

It was during the reign of Loqui Yupanqui that poesy, literature, music, philo-
sophy, and the sciences repre'sented 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 works, called yaravis,^ 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.^ 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 diff'erence 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 {Cajn'imulgus americanus) on the approach
of twilight. The rapture of love is never expressed 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 modiUation.
These instruments were made of reeds, and were of various sizes. Some, with
three holes, were called the pinndlus, others, with five or six holes, the qqueynas.
The peoples of Collao used a Pandean pipe or mouth-organ. The pincuUu 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.

' 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.

^ The most modern of these yaravis, and at the same time the most celebrated, is entitled the Pica-Jlor de
Huascar-Itica (Inca Huascar's Humming-bird). It is said to have been composed some years before the Spanish
conquest. \

ACOPIA TO CUZCO. - 193

The peoples of CoUao, 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 translatable into a tune on the flute or pipe This nmsical
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 POBPHYROID TKACHYTE.

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 rdle; the secondary parts were taken by his rela-
tions or the principal dignitaries. The coy a (empress) and the pallas, 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 without 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-

VOL. I. jjg

194

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. Garcilaso 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 we 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 VOCABULAKY.

God Pachacamac.

devil supay.

8un churi.

moon quilla.

star ccoyllur.

day ppunchao.

night tuta.

air huaruy.

cloud puhuyu para.

rain paray.

fhunder illapa.

lightning. . . . . . . iilu illu.

rainbow ckuychi.

earthquake pacha cuyuy.

water unu.

fire nina.

cold chiri.

hot rupay.

man runa.

pud. hominis ullu.

woman huarmi.

pvd. mulieris raca.

child fauahua.

father tayta.

mother mama.

sister nafia.

brother huaucau6.

great atun.

old machu.

young huayna.

life causay.

death huanuy.

head uma.

hair chuccha.

eyebrow caychi.

eye nahui.

nose ceneca.

mouth simi.

tongue ccallu.

tooth quiru.

ear rincri.

neck cunca.

breast ccasco.

shoulder huasa.

arm ricra.

hand maqui.

finger ruccaiia.

belly uieza.

navel pupu.

leg pincuyo.

kuee cuncuri.

foot chaqui.

bone tullu.

honey misqui.

wax mapa.

bee-hive huasi huaucuyru

potato papa.

sweet potato camote, apichu.

pine-apple achupalla.

serpent machaco.

tiger puma.

guinea-pig huangana.

ape kcusillo.

dog ... o ... . alccu.

ACOPIA TO CUZCO.

195

bird pichqui.

vulture huaraan, cuntur.

cock uUuc-huallpa.

hen huallpa.

egg runtu.

wild turkey hocco.

duck nunuma, huallata.

parroquet uritu.

turtle-dove urpi.

humming-bird quintisuUu.

bat nia9u.

meat aycha.

grease huero.

tortoise (land) motelu.

lame kumu.

silly poque.

thief sua.

earth ualpa.

mountain urcu.

sea atun cocha.

river mayu.

lake cocha.

tree ccaspi.

forest satcha.

leaf inquill.

flower sisac.

grass quihua.

wood Uamta.

house huasi.

bank ccauitu.

plantation chacra.

spade lampa.

canoe canoa.

raft huarapu.

thread ccaytu.

needle )

thorn r^'^^y-

fish-hook hacchuna.

bow huacchiy.

arrow huacchi.

club champpi.

lance rejon.

shooting-tube pucuhafla.

poison (for weapons) . . hampi.
a man's clothing .... uncu.
a man's hat chulio.

a woman's mantle . . . llieclla.
tissue or woven stulT . . ahuan.

ear-rings ririnchana.

necklace huallcca.

bracelet maquihuatana.

comb iiaccha.

crown llautu, pillu, mucucu.

purse chuspa.

flute qqueyna, pincullu.

drum hnancar.

horn quepa.

trumpet pututu.

pot nianca.

jar or pitcher puyiiu.

cotton utcu.

tobacco sayri.

arnotto 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 huanhua.

locust tian-tian.

ant cici.

white yura.

black yana,

red puca.

yellow keellu.

blue ancas.

green komer.

one hue.

two iscay.

three quimsa.

four tahua.

five piohcca.

six zocta.

seven cchanchis.

eight puzac.

nine isccon.

ten chunca.

rAs far as twenty the Quichuas of that time, like their descendants of the present
day, placed their ten before unity; for example: —

chunca-huc eleven.

chunca-isca twelve.

ehunca-quimsa thirteen, &c.

On reaching twenty, or more correctly twice ten — isca-chunca — they put unity
before the ten.

isca-chunca-huc .... twenty-one.
isca-chunca-isca .... twenty-two.
isca-chunca-quimsa . . . twenty-three, &o.

196 PERU.

So also for thirty, or three times ten — qwbnsa-chunca; forty — tahua-chunca ; fifty^
jnchcca-chunca; sixty— zocta-chunca ; seventy — cchanchis-chunca ; eighty — puzac-chunca;
ninety — isccon-chunca;

a hundred paehac.

a thousand huaranca.

ten thousand ..... chunca-huaranca.
a hundred thousand . . . pachac-huaranca.
a million ....... chunca-packac-fiuaranca.

On reaching ten times a hundred thousand, or a million — hunu — they left off count-
ing, and called anything beyond panta china, the innumerable sum.^ -

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 Culhahua, 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 Challant^ in Upper Peru, which formed the limit
of his conquests.

His son Roca 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 Poca 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.

* We are indebted to the Spanish Jesuit Antonio Ricardo 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 Condamine, on his return from Quito.

Some years subsequently the Jesuits Diego de Torres Rubio 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. 197

To the Inca Rocca, succeeded his eldest son Yahuar-Huaccac. His first 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.^

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. ^ 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 inspection
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.^ 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.
Eveiy 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 and 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.

^ The ruins of his palace still exist on the hill of Apuchanca, beyond the village of Cchooo, about three-quarters of
a mile from the baths of ITuanearo, and three miles north-west of Cuzco.

198 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 {llautu) 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 gryphtts). 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,^ 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 llacolla. 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.^

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 potters 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

' This diadem, called mascca paycha, was somewhat similar to that of the Aztec emperors, called maxtlatl.

2 This is the icheahuepilli of the ancient Mexicans ; it is not unlike the short shirt of the modern Arabs and the
antique garment of the Egyptians.

* We have seen in a private collection one of these yaeollas (llacollas), the long mantle worn by the Incas, and
which reminds us of the pallium of the Eomans. 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 and birds. Painted in dull colours, it resembled at a short distance a tissue of cashmere.

M^ P^

ACOPIA TO CUZCO.

201

pschent, and fashioned like termini;^ — 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 series 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 EAETHENWABE VESSEL OF THE PERIOD OF THE INCA8.

"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
his 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 jjage are defective ; cteis rigida phallusqiie erectus, quw insigniebant hao simulacra
illaque conjungebint (egyptiacia imaginibus, adempta suiU piidorii causa.

VOL. I. 29

202

PERU.

the Amaru-Mayu,^ reduced some of them, and passing through the country of Musus/
fi'om which he i-eached that of the Chirihuanas,^ returned into the Sierra, and advanced
to ChiU, then peopled by the Araucanians. He was the first to svibjugate the LHpi
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 Rappel, latitude
34° 60'. 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,

HTATUETTES OK GOLD, SlLVEli, AND KLiiCTKLM— PEKIOD 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,* 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;^ a third, in which pumas, improperly called American
lions, were confined, adjoined the temple of the Sun;" finally, the fourth, and most
celebrated, was peopled with jaguars of various sizes and colours; it crowned the

1 From mayu, 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, Conispata, Tampu, Pillcopata, Avisca, Callanga, Chaupimayo, Pihipini, 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 Madre de Dios, 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 otif by the
Tuyneris in one of their raids, these savages had thrown it into the river as a worthless object.

' Now the Moxos Indians.

' The territory of these Indians now belongs to the department of Chuquisaca in Bolivia.

* Now the quarter of Almudena.
' Now the church of the Jesuits.

* Now the church and convent of Santo Domingo. ^

ACOPIA TO CUZCO.

203

eminence of Amaliuara, adjoining tlie fortress of Sacsahuaman.^ 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 Yupanqui succeeded to his father. Leaving undisturbed the southern

STATUETTES OP 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.^ 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

t 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.

' Now the eastern extremity of the quarter of San Bias.

^ 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 Incas, and its monu-
ments: "Cuzco interests, me infinitely. Its history, its fables, and its ruins are alike enchanting. That city might be
called the Rome 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 Atahuallpa its Ccesar.
Pizarro, Almagro, Valdivia, and Toledo are the Huns, the Ooths, 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 art of rhetoric.

204

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} The first wall nearest the city was
called Moyoc-Marca^ the second Paucar-Marca^ the third Sadlac-Marca} All three
were constructed, as their remains still enable us to determine, in the less perfect
Cyclopean 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

INTERIOR OF THE TEMPLE OF THE SON DHRING THE LATER REIGNS OF THE INCAS.

opposition to the illustrious Humboldt, who observes: — ". . . We know by certain
evidence 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 in
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

' From the verb saycuni, to fatigue ; saycuscas, fatiguing.

^ Height of water, probably tlie zone of the level of springs.

' Height of flowering, the zone of vegetation of flowers {Paucar sisacc inqtiill cuna).

* Height dominant, the elevated zone, barren and stony {Sadlac rumi urcu cuna).

ACOPIA TO CUZCO.

205

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-

EEMAINS OF THE FORTEESS OF SACSAHUAMAN AT COZCO.

ance 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.' When
we compare the works of the first 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 Yupanqui, succeeded on the death of his
father. He subjugated the populations of S^chura, Piura, Tumbez, and Santa Helena,
who occupied the coast between the sixth degree of south latitude and the second

' 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 hngnato by Italian architects.

' Tins 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.

206

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
nmn-ied 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 Huayua-Capac as far as the paramos or plateau of Chuquisongo.'

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

COUBSES OP STONE IN THE POBTKESS 1' SACSAHUAMAN.

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 we 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.

^ 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 repetitions 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, Gualasco, on the heights of Cuenea, and
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.

207

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,^ 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 ISODOHONIC MODE OF CONSTBUCl'ION.

COUIlSEa OF STONE EN B0S3AGB, OB RD8TI0 FASHION.

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 (Aylla Ccozgco),
to which the other remained vassal and tributary, fell to Huascar as the legitimate son
and direct heir of Huayna-Capac. The other portion, Avhich 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

' The Spaniards and their vessels. The caravel commanded by Vasco Nunez de Balboa had been observed some years
before off Secbura and Sau Miguel while the luca Huayna-Capac was at Tumipampa,

208 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 Andamarca, 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 crossed 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 OP CONSTRUCTION: PALACE OP THE INCA MATTA OAPAC.

secure their good-will. Huascar, for his part, having been apprised of the arrival of
bearded men with white skins, found means, notwithstanding the Avatch 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 Andamarca, 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 his
courage," say some authors; to "look after his 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.

209

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.^

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 liis idolatry and receive baptism.

CYCLOPEAN CONSTBUOTION IN THS LATER PERIOD OF THE INOAS.

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.^

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 princes 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

' Tradition relatea tliat tlie unhappy Inca, after he had tried in vain to soften the murderei-s, whom he suj)-
posed to be acting by order of his brother Atahuallpa, exclaimed, "Ilanan asccatachu camacldni auccainiy causainiy-
manta camachecc, caimin manani asUatapis camachecta 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.

* 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 X3,500,000 sterling in gold and about
i;:i5,000 in silver.

VOL. 1. 87 -

210

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 Co7nmentaires Royaiix, 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, Avliich they were willing to
communicate, and Avhich we here reproduce.

lat Pedigree: Ayllo Chima Panaca.

INOA MANOO CCAPAO.

COTA MAMA OCLLO HUACCO.

Sinchl Kocca, — Apo Auauci. — Aiita Ccachuncar. — Rocca Yupanqui, — Aiiqui Cchuma. — Auqiii AUcay. — Flftas Ttupa.

Pedigree: Allo Radrahua Panaca.

iNCA SINOHI KOCCA.

COTA MAMA CORA OCCLLO.

Lloqui Yupanqui. — Auqui AUcay. — Pifias Ttupa. — Anta Ccaclumcjr. — Kucca Yupanqui.— Auqui Cchuma.

PERU.

211

Sd Pedigree: Hahuanima Ayllo.

^.:^\^

INCA LLOQUI TUPANQUI.

OOTA MAMA OCAHUANA.

JIayta Ccapac. Apu Condemayta. — Orcoo Huarancca. — Apo Jisac Coudemayta. — Condi Maucaylli. — llaytu Puriiiii. — Ccayau Jahuaira.-

Pauca Jalli.

Mk Pedigree: UscA Matta.

INCA MAYTA CCAPAC.

COTA MAMA C0CA.

Ceapao Yupanqui. — Jarccn Iluaman. — Paucar Mayta.- Apuii Mayta.— Apu Orcco Huarancca.— Apu Ahuaycha. — Michi Tapanqui.— Apu
Tisoo Yupanqui.— Auqui Huarinarco. — Auqui Ccopalli Mayta. — Apu Saylla Coaca.— Auqui Cchuma Huisa. — Condemayta.— Quis-
quicllan. — Quimi Mayta.- Iluaccac Mayta.— Ccopalli Mayta.— Inti ConJe Mayta.— Auqui Jarqqui. — Tampu Uscamayta. — Ancca Marca.
— ApuCchoro. — Huarcailli Quiso Mayta. — Auqui Llaniac Chimpo. — Auqui Jayancca. — Auqui Jocay. — Auqui Cahuitupa. — Auqui Jotio.
— Auqui CuUinchima.— Auqui Hualla. —Auqui Allcca Chimpo.— Ccochan Condemayta.

212

PERU.

5th Pedigree: Ayllo Apumayta Panaoa Ukin Ccoz^co.

'■J

INCA CCAPAC VUTANyUI.

COYA MAMA CURIHII.LPA.

Rocca. — Auqui Apumayta. — Apu Kimaclii Mayta. — Auqui Huayllacan. — Cuiin Jaiiuiiira. — Paucar Jalli. — Apu Quisquia.

6tk Pedigree: Ayllo IIuicja Iquip.ai Tan-.-ca Anas Ccozgco.

IJJCA BOCCA.

COTA MAMA MICIIAY CHIMPO.

Yahuar Iluaccac. — Auqui Huicca Iquirau. — Paucar Xluamatayai. — Auqui Uroco Yupauqui. — Auqui Huarancca. — Huaman Itupa. — Huaccao

Mayta. — Auqui Jampo Jocto.

PERU.

213

7th Pe^iyi-ee: Ayllo Hdacailli Pavaca.

TWCHOl-

'/V

INOA TAnCAR HtJACOAC.

OOTA MAJtA CCHOQUE CCHICTA Hri.LPAI.

Huira Ccocha.— Orcco ITiMrancca. — Apu Marota.— Auqiii ILiyta. -C'uima Chahuao. — Sibi Rooca. -I'uliaac Cliullimayta.--Tupa Huaman-
chiri.— Aaqui Auecailli.— Apu Hiqqui Yupanqui.— Auqui Cohara.— Tupa Qqueso.— Huamaurimaohi.— Atau Yupanqui.— Ccollo Tupan
Yupanqui.— Auqui Ticsi Huatutopa. — Paaaca Chahomayta.

Sth Pc:lij,-ee: ArLLd Sacso Panaca.

INCA HUIKA CCOCHA.

COTA MAMA KUNTO.

Orcco.' — Paclia Cctitic. — Auqui Ticsi Yupanqui. — Yihi Yupanqui. — Sucsu CoUatupa. — Clialco Yupanqui. —Auqui Yujwnqui. — Cayru
Yupanqui. — Quispi Sucsu. — Auqui Ticsi Yupanqui. — Auqui Michi. — Apu Janqui Yupanqui — Auqui Itupa. — Auqui Qquiso. — Auqui
Huallpa Itupa.— Itupac liarico.— Paucar Cchuirio.

' Orcco, more commonly cillcil Urco, succeeded to Lis f;,tlier, 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 aa 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.

214

PERU.

9th Pedigree: Ayllo Ccoz^co Panaoa.

INCA PACHA COUTIC.

OOTA MAMA ANAHUAKQUI.

Yupanqui.— Amaro Tupac Uturunco.— Acliachi Siuclii Rocca.'— Apu Acliaclii.— Apu lUaquita.— Ima Ititu.— Itupac Yupanqui.— Huayna
Auqui Yupanqui.— Jay an Achachi.— Auqui Itupa.— Ccacca Ccoz(;co.— Anahuarqui.— Sahuaraura.

lOlh Pedigree: Ayllo Inca Panaca.

INCA YUPANQUI.

COYA MAMA CHIMPO OCLLO.

Tupac Yupanqui.— Chanca Itupa. — Auqui Larico. — Huaillac Ccliillca. — Itupa Yupanqui. — Salta Cusi Huallpa. — Paucar Itupa. — Huaman
Achachi. — Huayna Yupanqui. — Mayta Yupanqui. — Auqui Qquiso. — Qqueso Yupanqui. — Paucar Itupa.— Mayau.—Ttupa Titu Yupanqui.
— Cchachua Rimachi Huallpa. — Atoc Rimachi Huallpa. — Anti Tupa Auqui HuiUacpi.— Auqui Calla Conchay. — Huallpa Ttupa. — Anccas
Palla. — Ccolque Coca.

^ It is to this prince, appointed generalissimo of the armies of the empire by liis 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.

llth Pedigree: Avllo Ccapac Panaca.

215

-■^^jj

IXCA TUPAC YUPANQUI.

COYA MAMA CHIMPU OCLLU.

ITuayna Ccapac. — Au<[\ii Amiiru Tupac. — Qquechuar Tupac. — Titu Riniiichi. — Auqui Mayta.— -Apu Sahuaraura. — Auqui Tomac Tupa. —
Tuuiis Ccalla. — Ayar Marou. - Juuqui Ttupa. — Auqui ChicUo Ccallo. — Auqui Tnuiac — Ccayo Tupac. — Ccolla Tupac Sinchi Kuccana. —
Qqueehuiu- Ttupa. — Huari Ttitu. — Quispi Huallpa. — Tupa Yupanqui. — Auqui Sufia H'iaU|)a. — Anti Tupa. -Tasnao Cusi Huallpa. —
Puric Tiipa Ccoritiipa. — Charca Ttupa. — Auqui Aucco. — Manco Ttupa. — Ticsi Huallpa. — Auqui Huallpa. — Tupa Riniac'ii. — Tupa
TticoUopaisi. — Auqui Sutauca. — Tupa Uuaniaii.— A-.'-ipii Ccaua. — Auqui Atavalo, — Pilco Tupa.

12th Pedigree: Ayllo Tumipampa Panaca.

INCA HUAYNA CCAPAC.

OOYA MAMA PILLCO HOACOO.

OOTA MAHA RAHUA OOLLO.

COTA MAMA RUNTO.

Inti Cusi Huallpa (Huascar). — Manco. — Huaca Ttupa PauUu.' — Mama Gchoqui, — Mama HUlpa Cckoqui. — Mania Cuya Hupa. — Mama
Judo Ocllu Coca.— Auqui Huanca.— Auqui Pumiwa. — Sayri Tupac— Auri Tupac Amaru. — Tupa Atauchi.— Choqui Huaman. — Mama
Cusi CAtmpo.— Pilco Ititu. — Titu Atauchi. — Mama HiUquUa. — Doiia Iiiis Quispe Sisa. — Doila Beatrix Quispe Sisa. — Juan Atahuallpa.
— Francisco Atahuallpa.— i;o;Ta Isabel Palla. — Doha Mariquila Itaquita. — Duna Maria Assorpi Ninancorro. — Auqui Ruqui. — Don
Carlos Inquil Tupa.— Don Alonzo Pucasa.-Don Estevan Ccolla.- Itupa Huanca.— Auqui Tupa Ataurimachi. — Chicha Thupa.— Achachi
Tupac.

' Tlje names printed in italics are those of women, sisters or cousins of the princes of tlii.s pedigree.

L'lG

PERU.

InCAS of tub liTU AXD LAST PEDIGREE.

I.NTI-CUSI HUALI.PA (HUASCAK), 13tH INCA.

COYA HAMA CHOQUI.

In the pedigree of Huana Capac, which is the last of the series, notwithstanding
that Huascar, the eldest son of that sovereign, had reigned for three years over Peru,'
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.^ 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, Huascar 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
))0wer, was deposited in the temple of the Sun, where it remained till the young prince attained his majority.

^ 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. Tlie 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 nmrry Uou Martin Ampuero, and commenced the line of Ampuero, whose
descendants are numerous iu Peru.

ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 217

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 ears, upon which the latter
hurled one of the bowls at his head and killed him on the spot.^ The people tore
the Spaniard to pieces.

The fifteentli 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,
leavmg 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. Tliirty-six of his relations and adherents
were executed with him.

Cristoval Paullu, his brother, was the seventeenth and last Inca of Peru His reio-n
was of short duration. He abdicated in favour of the Spaniards, and retired into the
httle 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 PhiHppe Tupac Amaru
having tried to revive the past, was cruelly executed {ecartele) 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 m 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 resumed 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 Uttle
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 lacunoi 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 tliat he was stabbed with a pouiarA

VOL. I. '^

218 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 such 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 Kecoleta 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.

ACOPIA TO CTJZCO.

219

These walls, let me hasten to say, are historic. They date from the reign of the Incas,
and reverence for their antiquity causes archaiological 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 snuflF.

The Cozco of the Incas was simply divided into a higher and lower town, com-

nonsE AT cuzco in which the historian gaboilaso de la vega was bokn.

prised in two quarters, called Huriu and Hanan. The Cuzco of the Spaniards com-
prises seven districts:^ the Cathedral, Belen, Santiago, the Hospital, Santa Ana, San
Cristoval, and San Bias, which are divided, good and bad alike, into squares or cuadras,
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 d 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-

' 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 di.stant.

220 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 dogs.

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 llecoleta ; 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 diff'erence 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 fa9ade 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.

221

of the order of INIercy present on their fa9ades 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

GREAT SQUARE AND CATHEDRAL OP 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-

222 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 fa9ade 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 Se~i07' de los Tenihlores,
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 wall, 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
"•round, 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^ 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 sterHng 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 pisl, 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. 223

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 tliey meant to build it of solid
siloer. 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.^

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.^ 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 Vii'gin. 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^ 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.

' 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 faot 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.

^ Alluras empinadas y hondoa voiles, says the manuscript of Doctor Cariascon, from which I have borrowed these
details.

' The first Bishop of Cuzco was Don Ferndndo de Luquey Olivera. Father Vincent de Valverde did not enjoy his
biMhopric longer than three years. He was assassinated or killed — we do not know the exact facts — by the Indians of the
province of Quispicanchi.

224

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 Yupanqiii and the menagerie of serpents annexed to it. This

CHURCH OF THE JESUITS AT OUZCO.

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 fa9ade, the
odd details of which have nevertheless been treated with great care. After the expul-
sion of the Jesuits, the church was closed until 1824, when the patriots, on their
return from Ayacucho, broke open its gates in the name of Holy Liberty, and trans-

ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 225

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-prdfet 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 expi^ession and for a
delicacy of execution which did honour to the chisel of the indigenous Berruguete
who 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 Avinding-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 (tocuyo) 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,

VOL. 1. 29

226 PEEU.

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 indiflFerence 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 imlike that of the
Spanish clergy, minus the quality of their lace ruffles, and plus 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.

227

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

'^-^<:i

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 diff"erent prices, beckons to his prot^g^e, who
advances timidly.

"Que le pavece d If." — What is your opinion? he asks.

" I am always of the opinion of my senor padre" the sly puss invariably replies, at
the same time pointing with her finger to the most expensive of the two articles.

228

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 ADOPTED PAMILT.

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), 7'aton (rat),
and avariente (miser), are his reward.

The most perfect picture of this kind, and the most aflfecting example of these
domestic manners, is px'esented 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 quarters of Orleans, no marine store-shop, ever presented a more
confused heap of books, instruments, rags, and waste-paper; no dirty nook Avas ever so
covered with dust or interlaced with cobwebs. Our canonical friend, seated at a table,
occupies himself in Avoikiii'^- out his ideas on paper, and keeping them bright by repeated

AOOPIA TO CUZCO.

229

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 cai^rice 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 Apio (celery). The maternal amour propre of the

ONE OP THE author's FRIENDS.- A CANON OF CUZOO AND PROFESSOR OP EXPERIMENTAL PHYSIOS.

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

230

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 suppoi'ted 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 foxintain with three basins, one above the other,
from the summit of which springs a jet of water 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

INTEKIOK OF THE CONVENT OP MEKOY 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. No
discordant noise offends his ear; the murmuring of water, the sighing of the Avind, 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 retreat off'ered 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.

231

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 heiglit 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 OBSEKVATORT.

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 j9os^ 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

232

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. ^ 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.

GABDBN OP THE CONVENT OF SANTA. CLARA AT CUZCO.

In 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
Avould punish the rival who should dare to twang a guitar under the windows of his
lady-love !

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

'Under the parallel of Cuzco, the enaguas, or petticoats worn by the fair sex, are always of woollen stuff, and of the
most brilliant dyes. The colours d la mode are deep scarlet, sky-blue, bright red, apple-green, and yellow.

ACOPIA TO CUZCO.

233

founded by the four Dominican monks, Valverde, Pedraza, San Martin, and Oliaz, who
accompanied Francisco Pizarro to Cuzco. This convent is bnilt on the site occupied by
the temple of the Sun and its dependencies in the time of the Incas. Some remains of

THE CHURCH OF MERCY AT OUZOO.

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-

234

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. lieal 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 tlie

church and convent of Santo
Domingo.

B. B. B. B. Quadrangular cloister.

C. C. G. Outer court of the temple,

with its side walls.

D. D. D. D. D. Fountain and lavers

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. Augustin, 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.

:MSSW^ ■■!^^, -■

LXUL

a i» >» <* .t» A ^
ak t» <* » « dl> 4»

^ IJk -A •& 1^ A A

G. Cliapel dedicated to the moon
— Quilla.

H. Chapel dedicated to Venus
and the Milky Way — Coyliur
chascca y Catachillay.

I. Chapel dedicated to Thunder
and Lightning — Illapantac.

J. Chapel dedicated to the Rain-
bow — Ckuychi.

K. Council-hall of the Hiiillacurmi,
or grand pontiff, and prie.sts
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.

OBOUND-PLAN OP THE TEMPLB OP THE SUN, AS DETERMINED BY THE EXISTING REMAINS, THE PRINTED
TEXTS, AND THE MANnSORlPT CHRONICLES PRESERVED IN THE CONVENTS OF CUZCO.

Casana, nearly opposite the College of Sciences. In 1549 it was definitively establi-shed
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. 235

artist's meaning. NotwitJistanding, 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 Cuzco, 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 Avith another the most trivial affairs; speaking to every oije
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 Avater of the country, and the exact
word to the periphrasis; beai'ing 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 Avhat 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-d-vis 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, Avith a Avink,

"Are they not men like yourself?"

I Avas 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 i-oads
clad with soft herbage, and paths sown with floAvers, that these novices reach the period
Avhen 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
door of a chichei^ia a merry swarm of these monigotes (lay brothers of religious orders)
roaring their bacchanal songs, drinking their brimming glasses, or dancing the maicito
and the moza 'mala 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.

236

PERU.

does not disapprove. They pretend to know by experience that human natni-e 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 line 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 CUZOO— THE FOUR OBDEBS.

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 Avhich 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. 237

If the monks of Cuzco have neither the softened manners nor the mellifluous
tones acquired by famiharity 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
things 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 sharjDness in their
populations. The citizens, small and great, of the Littoral provinces, like the religious
bodies, call the inhabitants of the Sierra Indies piojosos (lousy Indians) ; while the latter
on their side stigmatize the coast inhabitants as Yuracuy (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 scrupled 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 AcdlkuacA or House of the Virgins consecrated to the Avorship of

238

PERU.

H^lios-Churi. They" are now subjected, however, to the severity of the laws made by
Sinchiroca in the twelfth century. Cliristianity has much softened the lot of these
vestals. Instead of behig 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 1650, 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

/- -^ fc-

li^M

i.'iv

:f-:f^^Vf,

BEGUINE OF CHZOO.

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 efltigy 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 1651 and 1558.

ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 239

As to the beguinages, 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 oflfer
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 antique.

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 (chattiere). An exterior balcony, shaped like a long wooden
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 Henriade. 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.
FamiUes 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

240

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-
Pai'isian 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 walls 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

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-

ACOPIA TO CUZCO.

241

facture. This piano, provided with wax lisfhts 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 THE LOWER RANKS OP CUZCO.

1-oom. No one ever touches it, for reasons which it is easy to conceive, but the show
it makes is satisfactory to the amour jirofre 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

242 PEKU.

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 frequently, that the neigh-
bouring cities say of that capital: Llueve IS meses en tin ano — it rains thirteen months in
the year — the use of chimneys, stoves, or braziers is unknown. The ladies wrap them-
selves up as well 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 ENVIRONS OP CUZCO.

or habits, to which the men add the llacolla, and the women the Ukclla — large and
small sized woollen mantles. To warm them more effectively, and set their blood in
more rapid motion, gi'eat 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 temperature 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 week; 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 CUZCO.

243

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 {unnela), both accompanied by the always
indispensable liquor and the pleasant sounds of the flute and guitar. Others are satis-
fied 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 who everywhere constitute the ornaments of society. May
we not fail to satisfy at once the curiosity of the reader, and the amour propre of a sex
to which, as Legouv^ says, we 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, we may offend
the other. Nevertheless, the purity of our motives, and the iiprightness of our inten-
tions, will justify us in our own eyes if, by chance, we founder before reaching the
shore. This premised, we hoist sail and dare the voyage.

The women of Cuzco have generally brown 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 which covers them. Nevertheless, to remind a woman of Cuzco
of her incontestable origin wo\dd be to do her a mortal injury. The ambition of all

244 PERU.

is to prove that they are Andahisian 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, however, 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 Indias, para que negarlo? —
We are Indians, what is the use of denying it V 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
[ know not what ingenuous timidity and modest gaucherie, 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 Avith needlework, others with the prepara-
tion of sherbets and sweetmeats, mixing with their various labours any 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 prdfet, 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 AvatcliAvord, 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 avis 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.

245

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-fa^liion and desinvoltura of the fair Lima-
nians. Its picturesque character in the City of the Kings degenerates to the grotesque
in the City of the Incas. A woman of Cuzco, muifled up in that folded tonnelet, short-
ened and fringed, called a saya angosta or a pollera apresiliada, resembles somewhat,
seen behind, a huge scarabseus, to which, however, some one has added antennae.

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-

OHAMBEKMAIDS (C AME RISTES) OF CDZOO.

tocracy, who dress themselves d la franqaise, but with moditications and additions in
the taste of the country. There still flourish in all their past splendour the tunics ci 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 liand 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.^ The second of the
customs referred to consists in covering their faces with those ointments and cosmetic
plasters which were once used by the Assyrians and Medes, and which queen Jezebel

• The ammonia contained in tliis liquid prevents, so say those that use it, the contraction and drying up of the root-
bulbs of the hair, and consequently the falling off 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 age.

246

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 r^parer des ans l'irr6parable 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

.^^flW**

A LADT OF OUZOO GOINO TO OHUBOH.

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 pufted 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.

247

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 pdte 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 1 not received from the

A WOMAN OP cnzCO — Cr.ASS 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 soupqon 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 Cusquenos 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 ofiends 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.

248

PERU.

Wanting the exterior advantages which distinguish the men of Arequipa, the Cus-
quenos endeavour to compensate the niggardliness of nntnre by the advantages of in-
struction. They are all ardent students of theology, philosophy, common-law, statute-
law, and the civil and ecclesiastical codes. TJie 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 increase the imposing gravity of their carriage.
A learned Cusqueno, 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

' J\\^{5xnir:

■--,>■

A LIONESS OP CUZOO.

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.

249

The College of Sciences and Arts, founded or rather reconstituted in 1825 by Bolivar,
bore in the eighteenth century the name of San Francisco de 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

A OUSQUENO 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

250

PERU.

dressmaking. The sum devoted by the government to this interesting school is £1G()()
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

'^^X2

PROFESSORS OF THE UNIVERSITY OF ABBAS BEATI ANTONII AT CDZOO.

middle of the fifteenth century, was not inti'oduced 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. 251

{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 we 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, Puno, 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, Avith 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

252

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, we have
seized upon this, as we would on a troublesome fly to get rid of its buzzing.

PrestissirtXo.

^^;^,J-JU-^^ ^&

^r^^^-^

jt/ ff*^— i S

=tfit

=#i

=9*

«*-

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 yaravi, 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 coplas 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 2.'iJ appear to be in the modes of the 2d and 4th
of the scale (Dorian and Lydian). These modes are quite comraon 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.

ACOPIA TO CUZCO.

253

time of the Inca Loqui Yupanqui, I subjoin a copla from the most celebrated of the
ten or a dozen yaravis of which the Cnsquinian repertoire boasts.

Trh-lent.

fe&^N^

■S-S-4-

=f=F

W^E±S±jc^

jf^j^

Conqueal fin tir - a - no du - e-no tauto amor clamores ta-a-antas; tantas fa-ti-gas tantas fa-ti-gaa

is:^

IsIs

g^a^^-

=I=F

no han con-se-guido en tu pe-ch-o o-tro pre-e-e mio-o que uu Qu - 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-NIO AT SAOSAHDAMAN.

class make every year 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

254 PERU.

those of their relations, friends, or acquaintances. They select and assort these bones.

LILIACE^ OF SACSAHUAMAN:— AMARYLLIS ADBEA — CRINUM UROEOLATUM — PANCRATIUM RECURVATUM.

arrange them in little heaps, and one after another set np the most plaintive wailings

CURIOSITIES OF S ACS AHU AM AN— TH E CHINGANA.

over them, tell them the gossip of the quarter, and the news of the year; how the wife

ACOPIA TO CUZCO.

257

of Juan has left her husband to follow, in the character of rabona (vivandifere) 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, Jos^ 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

C0RI0SITIE3 OF SACS AHUAMAN— THE SLIDE.

of the sweet liquor of which they emptied so many jugfuls in this. As this biisiness
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 liquid, 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-

258

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 and 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.

269

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 hues, was a
tremendous success.

The entertainment of the third day was a scuffle with tame bulls, corrida de toros

"<!-

EVOLDTIONS OF 80LDIEKS IN THE OIECUS OP THE PLAZA DO CABILDO 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 chvlos (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-to tums, crossing each other, mixing with
each other, and winding in and out with remarkable nicety, while their hands were con-

260

PERU.

tinually occupied in taking from their cartouclie-boxes, as if they were cartouches,
handfuls of the petals of flowers which they dropped on the ground. This choregraphic
rather than strategic evolution ended, these defenders of their country saluted politely
the assembled multitude and retreated backwards. The public then discovered written
upon the yellow sand of the arena in capital letters made of flowers, and a couple ol
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 Robert Houdin.
In the absence of real pleasures, Cuzco has amusing scenes and curious episodes at
every street corner to attract the idle, and interest the observers of local manners.
Besides the street altars of the Fete-Dieu, and the symbolical masquerades, the sworn

A PONGO OK WATER-CARRIER OP CUZCO.

''slaughterers" of the police, and the verification on the spot of the number of dogs
killed by them every Monday morning, there are the numerous little trades and
industries carried on out of doors. In this category are the sellers of cldcharrones,
fag-ends of salt pork 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; 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
held down by four stones, on which cutlets, beefsteaks, and fillets, torn rather than cut
from the carcass, provoke the appetites of the lovers of a roast or a j^oi-ff-u-feu. In
general the rags of these tradespeople, and their wares too, are revoltingly filthy.

Among other individualities of this kind I well remember an Indian girl some
twelve or thirteen years of age, Avith brown skin and dishevelled hair, clad in mere
cobwebs of various colours, and mounted on long shanks of legs, by the help of which

ACOPIA TO CUZCO.

261

she traversed all parts of the city, and repulsed like a young colt the attacks made upon
her by the street-boys 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
d la ci'Sme, the other rose au carmin. With her left hand, which was left free, she
foraged in her blowsy hair, and from time to time carried her fingers to her mouth.
Puzzled by these gestures, ahvays the same, one day, when for the hundredth time she

15?*\J

BOBlfB AT THE CARNIVAL — THE AODB OK TERTIAN FEVER CARICATDRED.

had offered me her ices, which for the hundredth time I declined, I asked her what it
was she was eating. " Un piojito, senor " (a little louse, monsieur), she replied with a
frank smile.

The symbolic masquerades, which number with the gaieties of Cuzco, form two very
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 ckunchos
(savages), and the dansante (dancer). The first named is an Indian of middle age,
wearing a battered sti'aw hat, a sheet by Avay 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

262

PERU.

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.

TUB CHUNOHOS— WILD MEN.

The ckunclios are great dark-skinned fellows, with floating hair, dressed in their
ordinary manner, but wearing immense conical hats made of osier, and covered with

THE DANCER.

feathers of macaws and perroquets. They play the part of savages in the streets duriiig
th(i three days of the festival, drinking and shouting their hardest.

The dancer wears a straw-hat, round which are hung little bells and rattles. His

ACOPIA TO CUZCO.

263

dress is a fringed spencer of faded velvet, and a petticoat, or rather a framework of osier,
ornamented with silver plates. He goes from house to house, dancing a zapateo of his

THE HUYFALLA, OB MAN-DIRD.

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

THE HUAMANGniNO, OR DANCING BUFFOON.

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 a wife explained by him. These consultations were not gratuitous. The maiden,

264 PERU.

besides surrendering herself to her adviser, presented him with a fat chicken, a dozen
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 back^
upon him, and freely sell to others what in old times they gave him gratuitously.

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 huy/allas, 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.

TARUOA AND TAEUOACHA (DEEE AND BOCk).

With the huyfallas must be classed the Hnamanguinos, 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
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, Avhich
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 foreiinger, which they use as castanets.
Some of them play juggling tricks with daggers and balls, pierce their tongue with
needles, or, like Mutius Scevola, hold their hand over a brazier to the astonishment of
the gaping crowd.

The huyfallas and Huamanguinos are escorted by tarucas 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

ACOPJA TO CUZCO. 263

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
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.

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. The lace-makers are even
more neglige in their costume, as they go about without shoes, and with their dirty
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 backAvards loops
or ribbons, and making their bobbins ily with various-coloured silks. There is nothing
more curious and laughable than to see these industriels surprised by a storm of rain.
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 sedileship, or the highway board — I know not Avhat to call it — constitutes
a spectacle at once grotesque and pitiful. At Cuzco, as at Valparaiso, dogs wander
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 INIonday 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
in the square of the Cabildo, where a verifier appointed for the purpose comes to count
them. The artists of Cuzco are permitted, by leave of the verifier, to cut ofi* 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 scamjier 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

VOL. I. 34

266

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-DESTROTERS OF 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 ecartL 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.

267

This brief account of the canclia 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 Cancha — 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

THE VEKIFIER CODNTING THE DOGS KILLED AT CUZCO.

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

268

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
Jiands 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 OUZCO.

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 sufiicient. 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 Recoleta, where, like a burning

ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 269

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 (86 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-mothei
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 Cusquenos, devoted to the study of theology and canon-law, combine to
depress the fine arts, whose muse at Cuzco walks afoot, 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 au Raisin, d la
Chaise, au Poisson, copied from engravings; saints, male and female, of all kinds, either
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.

270 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 caudle 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 6c?. 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 Avere morally
incapable of using or abusing them to take away his trade. The gift of a few bad
lithographs had opened Avide for us the door of his atelier, where we often Avent
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 betAveen 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 Aveeks
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 Avas exhausted he filled a boAVl Avith 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 cke/s-d'oeuvre which he has painted
upon calico make the dreams of his last sleep pleasant!

ACOPIA TO CUZCO.

271

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 OB STUDIO OP 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

272 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
jirepare 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 Avith 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," Avliich 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 TU CUZCO.

273

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 SCULPTOB 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

274 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 abb6 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 Jos^, the husband of Mary. The lonely carpenter
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 Josd 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 bouillonne (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. 275

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 funnel 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 dulce mirar!" (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 we 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 ecorcM. 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

276 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 Kedeemer 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 wax-
hghts. Invisible springs or wheels communicated a nervous movement to all its limbs,
and made them continually tremble. It bears by metonymy the name of Senor 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
asijils de chien and masque du diable!

As often as the procession skirts the walls of a house and passes near a balcony,
basketfuls of the petals of the nuccho 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," trembhng 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

PBOCESSION OF THE

:<^Huyor

ID OF EABTHQIJAKEH AT CIIZCO.

ACOPIA TO CUZCO. 281

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 ofiF 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
mueve mucho nimca cae (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 Jos6 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 catastasis, 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 with us; do not leave thy children!" The bearers

VOL. I. ' W

282 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.
"Ingrate! a God without bowels !" the crowd again exclaims, weeping hot tears. " You
mean then to leave us till next yearV 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 iu 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 f§te of the Senor de los
Temblores is ended.

As our review of ancient and modern Cuzco is ended also, we 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.

TILLAQE UV MABA.

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 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 OUantay-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 Cordillei-a 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 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. — M6tarie and chickens at Unupampa. —
Hacienda de los Camotes, or Farm of Sweet Potatoes. — Etymology not always common sense. — Something that recals
Baucis and Philemon of classical memory. — Sta, viator! — HospitaMty of a storekeeper. — Portrait in pastel of a
grand lady. — The hacienda of Tian-Tian and its major-duomo. — Dissertation upon the Theohroma 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 venetiau-blind. — The forsaken

284 PERU.

one. — A flower which is white in the morning, red at noon, and purple in the evening. — Sor Maria de los Angela. —
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 Occobamba 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 aflFection, 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 60 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 Evohulus and purple sage, the thorny CEnothera, and a few
SynantherecB 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 I

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

CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 285

me by his personal appearance. To believe the good lady, her prot^g6 possessed
innumerable qualities, and many little talents de sociSte, 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 Jos6 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; au 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 lai'ded 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 well bred," I thought.

Five minutes afterwards, having finished my bread, I pulled rein, and turned round

286 PERU.

to ask for something to drink, when I saw the mozo in the act of nibbhng 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, "I 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.

"Jos6 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 tilled 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 Jos6 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. 287

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 we 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 exti-emity 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,' now troubled and white with foam, now calm and of a hmpid 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,^ sallows, and chilcas? 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-

' This river, called the Huilcaraayo in the locality where it rises, on the Raya plateatj, 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 PUonia. ' Vemonia lerraluloides.

288 PERU.

claimed the chief place of the province to any one who was ignorant of the fact that
Urubamba 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, Josd 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." "Jos^ 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 Godi 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"

GUZCO TO ECHARATL

289

"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 Jos^ Benito.

"Henceforth," I said to him, "when you have a fixncy 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 Sur, 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 Senora 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 ^neas 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

VOL. 1. 37

290 PERU.

telling her the news of the day. The conversation became general, we spoke of evei'y-
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 dit 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 Avhen
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 we 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.

291

"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 ray arm
and we left the salon.

According to the Spanish custom the sleeping chambers of the house, situated on
the ground-floor, occupied the three sides of a large inner court which had been trans-
foi-med into a garden. Clumps of flowers, which bloomed marvellously in the climate

URUBAMBA, 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 lUahuaman. 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 flowei's to the sense. The Seiiora 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.

292 PERU.

At daybreak Jos^ 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 Ave
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 window. While giving an eye to
his beloved iiowers, 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 cur^—
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 with 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.

CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 293

A neglected garden, knee-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 Thebaid 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 tiled 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 when 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-vis 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 Jos6 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.

204 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 Andes 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 Liliacese and grasses had taken root. On lower
levels clumps of maguey^ displayed their sword-like leaves by the side of innumerable
mulli^, whose gray stems, 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 Avith
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 eff'ect 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 Avith 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 V 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 Avhich 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 Spaniai'd, Avho lived here alone for ten years."

* Agave americana, tlie American aloe. ^ Piper americanus, a plant of the pepper family.

THE RAVINE Of OCCOBAMBA.

CUZCO TO ECHARATI.

297

"I understand," she said; "you mean the runalorocuna} or the mochiganguero^ as
we called him ; a settler who made bracelets and head-dresses of parrots' feathers, Avhich
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 1"

" Oh ! as for the money," said the woman, " Juan spent that with his companions
without so much as buying me a new petticoat."

A LLAMA DRIVBK.

"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 Jos6 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, which took a serpentine course
over the mountain, and Ave 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 tiu'n we made only opened before us a perspective of a
few steps. The sun, which just now stood perpendiculai-ly over this stony trench, pro-
duced a temperature like that of the Senegambia. Our mules began to breathe with such
difficulty that we Avere compelled to throw the bridle upon their necks and let them

^ Literally, the man with the parrots.

2 From mochiganga, masquerade; mochiganguero, a maker or arranger of masquerades.

VOL. I. 38

298

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 we 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, carpeted with short stubbly
grass. My first thought was to turn round in order to estimate the height of this

SWIKO-BEIDQB CONSTRUCTED OP OSIERS BETWEEN ORUBAMBA AND OLLANTAT-TAMPD.

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 Avider 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

CUZCO TO ECHARATI.

299

told me that we were on the heights of OHantay-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 OUantay, the ruins of Tampu, and the ancient quarries.
A torrent of melted snow Avhich fell foaming from the heights gave animation and
variety to the landscape, now inundated with sunlight, and rolled on its noisy course

/ /

4 '..^

•■;/!

¥f% fe

1 1 HI

MCD-FOHTKEBS ON THE LEFT BANK OF THE H UI I,C AM ATO-UBU B A M 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 fiishion 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 T 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 Jos^ 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-

300 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 Avhich 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, pyi'amidions, 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 archseologist 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. Like the I'elics
of ancient grandeur in the old world, this tampu had no doubt its historical memories.
We know, in fact, that Doctor Antonio Valdez has written a tragedy in the Quichua
language founded on an incident which occurred here some years before the discovery
of America, and the original record of Avhich has been handed down to our time by
the Peruvian quipos. The tragedy is nothing to the reader. Its historical date, 1463,
recalls the splendour of Tupac Yupanqui, eleventh son of the Sun, and first-born in the
descent of Capac-Ayllu-Panaca. The death of his father had put this sovereign in
possession of the vast empire of the Incas, which at that time extended from the river
Ka^jel (Chili) to the boundary of the kingdom of Lican, now the I'epublic of the Equator.
Married to his sister Mama-Chimpu-OcUu, 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 i-ight of inheritance, to the
eldest of them. This eldest, named Huayna-Capac, was one day to become the father
of the rival princes Huascar and Atahualpa, the first assassinated by order of his brother,
the second strangled by the executioner.

At this period the city of Cuzco, 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.

303

Eeverting in imagination to those old times, and climbing the hill of Sacsahuaman,
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 OLLANTAT-TAMPD.

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 AcUhuaci,
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. Tlie only openings in either of them are eight doors,

304 PERU.

with inclined jambs iu the Egyptian fashion, and four huecos, or square niches, resem-
bhng 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 store-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 Raymi 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 coup-d'ceil 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 parallelogi'am which we have hastily sketched extend
the public and private properties, consisting of patches of beans, batatas, quinoa,^ 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 walls, impart an aspect far from attractive. Beyond the plan-
tations a circular amphitheatre of lofty mountains with gently sloping sides and rounded
summits, their flanks clothed with a reddish-brown grass, bounds the horizon on every
side. Thus situated in the bottom of a funnel, of which it occupies the centre, the City

1 Chenopodium (^uinoa.

IJJCA AND COYA (eMPEUOK AND EMl'UESS), ATTENDED BY THEIR CCUMILLU, OR DEFORMED DWAUF.
Vf I,. I. e9

CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 307

of the Sun thoroughly justifies the epithet of Ccozcco (navel) which its founder gave
to it.

If among my readers there are any who wish to have an idea of the royal state of
an Inca in the year of grace 1463, I can in some degree satisfy their curiosity. Seated
on a chair of state covered with gold and precious stones, Tupac- Yupanqui wears
a tunic of alpaca wool as white as snow, with a border of many colours. This article of
apparel is woven in the form of a sac, with an opening for the head and two openings
at the sides for the arms. On the front of his golden head-dress or mitre 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 bandelettes hanging down
to the shoulder, form quite a frame round the emperor's face. He wears golden sandals
ornamented with red feathers above the ankles. From his left shoulder hangs a striped
mantle of vicuna's wool. From a cord worn saltier- wise is suspended his chuspa or coca-
bag, and the champpi or scejitre of sovereignty is held in his right hand. I should
have said that the throne is constructed to be borne on a litter, at the corners of which
are four golden rods to which curtains can be attached.

But it is time to resume my narrative, which this vision of a long vanished age has
interrupted. Turning to see if Jos^ Benito had set within my reach the luncheon,
of which I felt myself greatly in need, I observed my mozo quietly seated at a little
distance, cutting the bark from a piece of wood.

"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.

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 Jos^ 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.

308 . PERU.

which I put into my valise, 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. No
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 Ollantay-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 (pimcu), 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.

yoy

occasional flashes of lightning, accompanied by the distant rumbling of responsive
thunder.

As we drew near these Alpine fogs, whicli I compared poetically to the smoking
vapours of Avernus, or of Stymphalus, I observed that Jos6 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-

A8CENT OF HABASPAMPA, ON THE ROAD TO THE PASS IN THE CORDILLERA OP 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 puncu," 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

CUZCO TO ECHARATI.

318

know what brute beasts they Avere 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. T!;py saluted me

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, hungei-, 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.

314

PERU.

Some minutes afterwards I passed on my left two heaps, 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

FABMHOUSE OF 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, sti'ewn 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.

315

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 march, 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 Jos6 Benito had mentioned. This poor-looking place, built

FARMSTEAD OP SATLI/APLAYA.

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, which we reached in about an hour, compensated a little for the
bareness of the landscape through Avhich 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 Erythrinae, or coral -trees, which bear
splendid scarlet blossoms, and thorny sand-box trees {Hura crepitans). A group of

316

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 VALLET OF OOOOBAMBA.

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 EOHARATI.

317

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

318

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 1 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 imder the necessity

VILLAGE OP 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 ECHARATl.

319

"That is the man," I said simply.

"Advance, thief, brigand, assassin !" the alcalde thouglit it his duty to exclaim.

Jos^ 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 v^^hom 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—

_^A^-

AN ALCALDE ON A JOURNEY.

"Allow me to settle this little affair," I said, giving my guide a cuff on the ear.
" Jos6 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 Ecliarati. Ueturn 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 V

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

320

PERU.

more than sixty miles from Cuzco, and, above all, obliging him to cross the Cordillera
on foot, a jom-ney 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
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

4^ ivf. fi«ip^

A FOUNTATN AT OCCOBAMBA.

of boiled maize. A touching scene caused me to stop before one of these dwellinos.
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.

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 ffenre 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 hke 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
of the air and the village dogs were glad to quench their thirst. Blackberries, fuchias,
and a species of misletoe {Lorantliacew) clustered on the flank of the cerro, and
formed a framework oi foliage and flowers to this fountain ; immediately around which

CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 321

grew tangled masses of water-plants, Sagittaria, Hydrocotyles, and hart's-toiigue 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 chupd"

"And who is this chupe for?" I asked.

"Why, for you," he 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?"

He had no other meat, but with half a pumpkin and a few sweet-potatoes and
yucca roots,^ the cooking of which I attended to myself, I succeeded in making an
excellent soup, of which I was generous enough to invite him to partake.

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 housekeeper, 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 wife had a taste for strong drink. As she was
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
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

'These yuccas or yucca roots, are a species of Jatropha — the J. Manihot, from which the negroes obtain their

manioc or maguioc, 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.

VOL. I. 41

320

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.

A FOUNTAIN AT OCCOBAMBA.

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.

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 tliread of water, at which the birds
of the air and the village dogs were glad to quench their thirst. Blackberries, fuchias,
and a species of misletoe {Lorantkacece) clustered on the flank of the cerro, and
formed a framework oi foliage and flowers to this fountain ; immediately around which

CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 321

grew tangled masses of water-plants, Sag 'Maria, Hydrocotyles, and hart's-tongue ferns
{Scolopendri'uin), 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.

"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 chupd."

"And who is this chupe for?" I asked.

"Why, for you," he 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?"

"I have had two lawful wives," he said with a sigh, "and neither is left me."

" Both dead ! " I exclaimed.

" Alas ! " he sighed.

"The devil! No doubt drunkenness is a sad fault, but if we were to kill all who
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?"

^ These yuccas or yucca roots, are a species of Jatropha — the J. Manihot, from which the negroes obtain their
manioc or maguioc, 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.

vol.. I. 41

322 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 1 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

OUZCO TO ECHARATI.

323

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 Avas 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 Jos6 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 could not cross it without the risk of its giving way under us. I
thanked Miguel for the interest which he took in our two noble selves; a fall of

324 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 Avith our needs
Avhen 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, sudden 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 ECHARATL

325

"I am not so anxious to dispose of myself," said she, "as to many 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 be 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
Dieu!"

FARMSTEAD OP MAYOC IN THE VALLEY OP OOCOBAMBA.

I 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 puni.shes 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!"

326 PERU.

The shade of vexation which this incident had occasioned me was soon forgotten
en route. Turning our backs on the hill of Mayoc, we 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 (Bavibusacece),
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 mntus 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
oi'chestra 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 occuri'ence of lantanas with viscous

CUZCO TO ECHARATL

327

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,
half-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 centenarice) , was

THE CCESTA OB PEAK OY UNnPAMPA.

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 {passerelle), 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 Con/ervce like thick grass,
tufts of herbaceous and aquatic plants {Plantaginacece and Aroidece), displaying, in
the thread of water, their shining leaves, which were incessantly fretted and tossed
about or submerged by the current.

328

PERU.

When Ave 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 ddiciously soft to the eye, and the tubers

TUB TAEMSTEAD OF UNUPAMPA.

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 with stubble and
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 Tiocima {uncle's cradle). On reaching
the latter point our mules, a little jaded, breathed and snufiied 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,

C'UZCO TO EGHARATl.

329

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 OP LOS CAMOTES (S WEET-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 formerly admired in the neighbouring
valleys — those beautiful plants, those charming flowers, those brilliant birds — marvels

TOL. I. 42

330

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 cross the boundary of the
real, and seek what never can be realized, how many unhappy mortals whose ambitious

THK FARM OP TIOCUNA (UNCL e's CBADLE).

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 lengtli, and embellished with the
proper rhetorical flourishes, occupied the time which Ave 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.

331

merited 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 we
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 GKOOERS STOKE AT U U U.

nished with round -bellied bottles, decanters, bottles with labels, and other objects.
This lady, I said to myself, is a pulpera, or grocei", 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

332 PERU.

(frozen potatoes) and a few heads of maize. What was to be done in such a case ?
One could 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 cura5ao 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 Tong

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, cUmbing 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 corner

CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 333

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, we were
now on the right.

The country which separates the grocery-store of Uchu from the hacienda of Tian-
Tian, where we arrived between 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, which, 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 was like a box on the ear given by prose to poetry, or a pair of
scissors applied to the wings of enthusiasm.

On entering the court of Tian-Tian, where we were received by a major-domo —
the proprietor of this hacienda living at Galea, and only visiting his domain once a
year — my first care was to inquire of this individual if it were possible, in consideration
of my paying for it, to get something to eat. He replied that nothing would have
been easier if, for the moment, the larder of the hacienda had not been in a pitiable
condition.

" In our valley," he said, " we kill an ox every Sunday, and each buys a portion of
it, which 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,
when Thursday arrives there is nothing left to eat but the bones. Now you have
come on a Friday, and even our bones are gnawed and picked clean; neveitheless, if
you like to wait till Sunday you will have a capital dinner of butcher's meat."

"Wait two days without eating!" I exclaimed with 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 wait till Sunday you can have a dinner of fresh
meat."

"Have you, then, something else to offer mel"

" I have some chuno and maize."

"That sounds ill. I supped on chuno and maize yesterday; but no matter, let
me have it. Even with that one need not die of hunger."

The major-domo addressed a few words to a chola whom our colloquy had attracted
to the door. The woman disappeared; and while she went to prepare my dinner, my
host proposed that I should take a turn in the cacalmal (cacao -plantation), where
some detail of business required his assistance just now.

This plantation was badly kept, and even a little in disorder, a remark which I
made to myself, but was careful should not be heard, knowing how the truth grates
on a man's ears, more especially when he has asked your opinion. I replied, therefore,
to the major-domo, who questioned me in this respect, that I had never seen, either
in the valleys of Paucartampu or in that of Soconuzco, renowned for this kind of

334

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 flattering thy faults and thy

HACIENDA AKD OAOAO-PLANTATION OP TIAN-TIAN.

vices, rather than by using the language of truth, that one acquires thy esteem, and
conciliates thy afiection."

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, was 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 Tlieobroma 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. 335

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 for his boiled
chuno and his Idndness 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 BufFon as a jackdaw.
Doubt in this respect is the less possible, considering that the first called his subject
Corvus, and the second Grams. 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 margot, 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 was 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.

336 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 — desoU. 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 rtle 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 day.

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.

337

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 a cucaracha or a moscardon squatted in the flower, and which
I had disturbed in its sleep. The wound which this insect had given me Avould 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 OP LA LEOHUZA (THE OWL).

my journey, swearing eternal hatred against the Datura arhorea and its violet
flowers.

It was past five o'clock in the afternoon when we discovered a white house, half-
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 aviericana).

VOL. I. ^

338 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 house. 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. Rose the patroness of Peru, and
St. Torribio de Mogrobejo, Archbishop of Lima, born in Spain 1536, died in Peru 1606,
and canonized at Rome 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 Avhich seemed to float in the air, told me that I could
either rest in the sahn 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 Avindow-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 {(Enothera) , some ornithogales (of the
family of Liliacece), 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

CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 339

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 Avith red and green corolla,
which grow in stony lands, there bloomed a beautiful specimen of the Hibiscus
mutabilis, 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 hijas del fuego ocidto, . . . 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:^ —

We are daughters of the fire that burns

To the centre of the earth ;
The dew of the morning fills our urns,

And the dawn attends our birth.

We are children of the air,

And 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 scillse, like a king surrounded by his
courtiers, at the same moment.

' 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. — Tr.

340 PERU.

" How tiresome," I 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. 341

"I do, in fact, love flowers, dear sister, but not as they are commonly loved for the
material luxury they aiford, 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 afiection and care we lavish on them!
Man returns the devotion of his fellow-man by forgetfulness, indiff"erence, 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.

"Senor, 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 au 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.

342 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 -
bUnd 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 Avhich 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 tlie
generous hospitality with which you have treated me."

" What you request is impossible," said the unknown. " Except the persons who
wait on nie, no one Avill ever see my face till the day Avhen God calls me to himself
I have made a vow which nothing in the world can induce me to break; and you
may 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 tlie first case.

CUZCO TO ECHARATI.

343

the man wearies of her; in the" second, she repels him. There is always clanger 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 CONVEBSATION THROUGH THE LATHS OF A VENETIAN-BLIND.

when I found myself abandoned by the being to whom I 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

344 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?"

"Tomorrow, as I said, I will with 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, wdth 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,^ 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^
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

' 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 Armagnac
in which orange-flowers have been infused.

' Bodegon, a low-class drinking-place. — Tr.

CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 345

I took possession of my couch, which was covered with luxurious white sheets of fine
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 houi', I 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 inefl^able 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, with 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
Gossypium 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 mutabilis 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 were 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. Data 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 request 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. 1. 44

346 PERU.

five sittings, appeared to me interminably wearisome. Nothing but the idea that 1
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 Cbouette
disappear behind us in the morning,

"What insensibility of heart!" my fair reader will perhaps exclaim at this naive
avowal of my impressions.— Alas ! madanie 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 meV 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 1"

"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.^ In his random talk he not only told nie his own history and that of
the cholita, but even the adventures of his mistress."

"You know, then, who this lady is?"

"As Avell 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 Avas found to be 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, sui'prised 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

* The French equivalent of this common expression, used by the autlior, is, bleu comme un poisson— "Uue as a fish,'
from the colour which fish assume when saturated with wiue in one mode of cooking them.— Tr.

CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 347

latter had disappeared. There was 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:— ^j^P^g

Doctor- Medico
Calle de San-Udefonso, 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 which 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 could not bear to think of such a result. Sor Maria had suffered
enough already to have acquired the right of living forgotten by men, while jjatiently
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 I had discovered.

348 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 wish 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."

"Senor, 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 houleversement 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,
Avas 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 we were travelling assumed, at
the end of every league, a character of barren wildness, which harmonized well 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 were ascending, by paths which
continually grew steeper, the chain of lomas which separate the valley 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 Cuchillas, on account of their
sharp summits, which resemble the edge of a knife. The flora of these regions was

CUZCO TO ECHARATI.

349

similar to that of the Andean plateaux and the eastern flanks of the great mountain
chain. Large trees are rare; the smaller trees and shrubs there comprise a species of
caper {Capparis), a few laurels {Laurince), an Actinophyllum, and a species of myrtle
and Baccharis. Among the flowers which we find here and there, figure, in the first
place, a Befaria with dwarf roses, a few Lysipomias, two Ericas, of the genus Vacciniuvi,
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 CHAOO.

sacks were full to bursting, and that I might dine when and where I pleased. I
immediately dismounted and seated myself under the. shade of one of those Capparis
raidi/olia, whose rough leaves serve like glass-paper for polishing w6od.

The provisions which Miguel set before me were of a nature to satisfy the most
fastidious gourmet. A roasted fowl, new bread, butter, fruits, two bottles of topaz-
coloured wine, which, after having tasted, I knew to be old orange-wine,^ 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 dinner. By way of
Mnedicit6, I addressed a fervent prayer to God, in which the name and the memory of

^ This wine is made in the following manner : — The oranges are carefully collected by hand, instead of hoing knocked
or shaken from the tree in the usual way, and are then exposed to the sun for thi-ee or four days. They are then cut
into slices without being peeled, and the juice, having been squeezed out by twisting the woollen cloth in 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 in jars or pots, which are covered up with wood and lime, and buried two feet in the ground. At the end of two
months the orange-wine may be drunk ; but its quality is improved by age.

350 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 loma, 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 Unisayhua, 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. Awa};
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
clearing, 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, Avhich, 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, Avhere
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. We 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 Avhat 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 on
the altar of Cupid!

CUZCO TO ECHARATI. 353

If this phrase, printed in italics to inform the reader that it is textually 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 baslifulness was neither the virtue nor the defect of these damsels. Brought up
by a father whose kindness of nature had degenerated to apathy, and by a mother
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 Avhich 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 Avhen, after a month's absence more or
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 well 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 filles, 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 chup^ 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

VOL. I. 46

354 PERU.

the Ando-Peruvian fashion. Tliey 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 Jllles did the honours with so much grace and assiduity, that on
reckoning up the number of mouthfuls Avith 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 trelissed 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 Alcusania,
one of the affluents of the Rio de Santa Ana, and passed along one boundary of the
farm of Salamanca, we arrived at nine o'clock in the village of Echarati. There I
halted a moment to inquire of the alcalde the way to the hacienda of Bellavista, where
I expected to find the luggage and various packages which I had requested to be sent
on from Cuzco. 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
reached in about ten minutes.

HAOIENOA OS BELLAVIBIA.

SIXTH STAGE.

ECHARATI TO GHULITUQUI.

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." — JVec 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 man'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. — Jiueti viagef —
First rapids and first salutes of the waves. — Mancureali. — An enormous capital represented by twelve iron hatchets
of Biscayan manufacture. — Illapani.— Bivouac at Cliulituqui. — A confidence which the author, and consequently
the reader, were far from expecting.

The hacienda of Bellavista, more generally known as the hacienda of Echarati, 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

356 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 picturesque. In the whole valley one would vainly look for a
site which combines so happily the beauty and splendour of masses with the elegant
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.

Tlie avenue of aloes, Avhich 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 pisS, serving as cart-sheds and barns ; on the south by the kitchen, the brew-
house, and the cottages of the labourers — hximble 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 ; we 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. 357

their future success, to which, from affection for him, I 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 lavadero, 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 weakened 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 d 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 we should never reach the top."

" Apropos of that Gaspard," said my host, " there is a report in 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. . ."

358 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,^' we reached
the end of the cacahual. 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 we had some oranges for
dessert, and the repast was crowned by a cup of coffee, filtered d, la chaussette 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'?" 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 worse," 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 were brought up at the apostolic college of Ocopa, Avhich
they left about thirty years ago to establish themselves at Cocabambillas, a mission
Avhich 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,
arid 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 view than that of turning to the worship of
the true God the poor idolaters, and perhaps of promoting their civilization. But on

' Seines et Paysages dans les Andes, 2d series, 1861.

ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI.

u:;i)

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

FRA Bono 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 gloiy 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,

360 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 1806 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.

3G1

" 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 BY THE NATIVES YAHDAR OENCCA (BLOODY NOSE), AND BY BOTANISTS

THE EBYTHEINA SPLENDENS.

I sent to seek my mules in the pasture, had them saddled, and in ten minutes more
had quitted Bellavista in conipany 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 teUing
me plain enough that he would be delighted to return to his penates, 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.

■vni. T ***

3G2 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 untilled 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 Jacarandas with fallen blooms, strewed
it with white, yellow, or violet flowers ; tree-ferns decorated its slopes with splendid
aigrettes ; while clumps of Fassijiorw, Convolvuli, and bright red Erythrince, the
papilionaceous flower of which, whose vexillum is of an extraordinary length and
shaped like a nose, has received in Quichua the name of Yahuar Cencca (bloody nose),
adorned it as with floating curtain and elegant draperies.

While I Avas 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 somhrero 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 meditaiitis ictum
obliquum of Horace's boar,^ 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 had seated myself on a bench to which he pointed, I took out my

» Hor. Od. iii. 22, 7.

ECHARATI TO CIIULITUQUI.

303

pocket-Iiaiulkerchief to wipe the perspiration which was streaming from my forehead, he
offered me a glass of lemonade, which I accepted, and which he prepared himself with
moist sugar and the juice of a lemon. To mix it more perfectly, he took 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 lifted the glass to my lips, I observed that he had carefully withdrawn

MISSION OP COOABAMBILLAS.

the spoon. As Fi-a Astute saw me for the first time, and could not know whether I 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 be led into temptation.

While I drank my lemonade he informed me that his colleague had goije 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, and 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.

364 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, Avhich 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 1 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 fSte 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 you, 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 cojnpatriot had impatiently awaited my return.

ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 365

Before I coiild open my lips my downcast look apprised him that I had bad
news.

"Well?" said he.

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 which 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 moant 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 up 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?"

366 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 Astutol"

"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-hoire, 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 was 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 ef 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 Mimosse (varieties of Inga) 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 species
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 CHULITUQUI.

367

The geography of the hacienda wa? so well known to me that I 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 nortliward, 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 five years' absence,
had still that formidable look which had struck me on my first visit. Not only did

THE UEUSATHUA, A MOUNTAIN IN THE VALLET OP 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 vajoours 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 wators 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 Avhen I must trust myself to its mercies, the impetuosity of its course.

368 PERU.

aud 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, when 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 Provost. In the centre I placed, with the large flower
of a Carolinea princeps, white and straw coloured, an Amaryllis regince, dull carmine,
striped with white and green. I surrounded these two noble flowers with violet r/iexias
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 liseroiis (multiflora) of
bright yellow : to these I added the paniculated blossoms of a Bigmmia jasminoides
of a flesh colour; a few orchids, streaked with 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 Cauacorus, 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 simjile 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 mimosas, 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

ECHARATl TO CHULITUQUI. 309

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 quincunxes,^ 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 transjDort has given me this letter addressed to you, which he begged me to
forward Avith 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 Pcni at
the same time, has added to the company the captain of a frigate, that they may work
out the said designs together. Twenty soldiers form the escort of the two chiefs of the
Franco-Peruvian expedition, to whom the civil and military authorities, the cur^s of
villages, and the apostolic principals of missions, are expected to give all possible aid
and protection.

^ An arrangement in fives, like the five spots on a playing-eard. — Tr.
VOL. I. 47

370 PERU.

" His most serene highness has arranged to leave Cuzco the day after to-morrow.
He will probably arrive in the valley of Santa Ana two days after my letter. It is open
to you to wait at home, if you 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 ! "

"Pardieul 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 f6te 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 Era Astuto, and the difficulties which that worthy Franciscan
had raised. Having begun the relation of my 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 I 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 could 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. 371

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 particular 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
why, 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."

Two 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: we there want for
everything, but happily we leave very soon." These few words were the pith of all he

372 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 ofier 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 grandijiorus,) 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. 373

"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 ai'istolochia," he said.

If I did not answer his highness, who was egregiously deceived in taking a con-
volvulus for an aristolochia, it was 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, however,
was 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 would be ridiculous, unjust,
and indeed quite out of place, to reproach his highness with his slight resemblance
to the Antinous or the Meleager."

The prince, returning my book, interrupted the artistic and psychological study I
had made of his person.

While we gossipped de onmi 7'e scibili et quibusdam aliis, he apprised me of what
I was far from suspecting — that he had learned at Cuzco the motive of my journey,
and my route through Peru and Brazil being almost coincident with his own itinerary,
he expressed the pleasure it Avould be to him if we could travel together. To this
amiable proposition he added so many compliments, so eulogized my double talent as
botanist and artist, which he no more knew 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 with 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, which Blaise Pascal has located
in the occipital part of the cranial concavity, calling it pensee de derriere la tSte.

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 with 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 walk a little in the cacahual (plantation), to which they
eagerly assented. On one of them remarking that it was very hot, and hii\ting how
inconvenient it was to be thirsty, I produced a bottle of orange-wine. We had walked
some distance when I discovered that I had forgotten two important things — a cork-
screw and a glass. As I reproached myself for this neglect, my companions suggested
that the neck of the bottle might be broken with a stone, and then used as a drinking
glass. The freedom of their manners, or rather their want of manners, put me perfectly

374 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 ideal
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 Avith. 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 la famaT I replied.

"You should say mala fama," rejoined the geographei'.

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 Laurus 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 saiivus.

ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 375

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 was 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 auditors, 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

376 PERU.

men spoken of in Scripture, who have ears, hut 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 upon
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 ^ 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

' Le conte — a pun on liis " higlinesa' " title.

ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI.

377

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 alloy of agaves which leads
to the village of Echarati. A great light gleaming through the trees caused us to think

THE COnUT DK LA BLANCHE-EPINE AKD HIS COMPANIONS ENGAOED IN THEIB SOIBNTIFIO LABODES.

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 1 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

VOL. I. 48

378 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 di^aws 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 off"ensive 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 wound 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.

ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI.

379

" 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 example for the savages ! "

" Let us hope it will not be so bad as that."

"It matters not; like the abb^ with the roasted chestnuts in the Contes d'Espagne,
I would cheerfully say, Avith 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 Ave 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 caho 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 Avhich 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 avIioih I pro-
mised to write an account of our journey.

On arriving at Cocabambillas we found the tAvo 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 Avith common moist sugar and lemon having a very

380

PERU.

unpalatable look after the excellent wine we 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 tlie 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.^ 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.

THE FAKM8 Or CHOQUECHIMA AND SAHUATAOO.

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 quickened 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 Avith my old travelling companion,

* Fairy mouey disappears, and in its place is fouud only withered leaves. — Tu.

ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI.

381

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.^ 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 acquitted 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

TARM OF CHAHUARIS.

barrack, or large hut thatched with stubble, with some sheds and other domestic
annexes. The entrance is a mere opening Avithout 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

' Seine* et Paysages dans les Arides, 1st Series, 1861.

382

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 Avhole 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 was 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 we 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 two
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 Antis Indians, who were 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
le.ss 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 who have been made by baptism children of God and of the church, but to
whom civihzation has given nothing but its vices, Avhile taking from them the qualities

ECHARATI TO CHULITUQUI. 383

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
f/enipahua. 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
dogs with sharp backbones and straight-pointed ears, who looked at us 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 alcco 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 twenty-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

384 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 with 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 Avas 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 cliolos 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, we 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 trimcatum of gigantic size; a Capparis, covered with flowers; five
or six varieties of CEnotherece, some lemon-scented verbenas {V. macrophylla), and a
Hippceastrum, 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.

385

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

BIXA ORKLLANA (aRJIOTTO).

our escort had deserted during the night, carrying off their muskets and snbres to
sell, but abandoning their cartridge-boxes as impediments to their progivss. 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, they 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

VOL. I. 4d

386 PERU.

infidels, and their anxiety to beat a retreat. After having talked over this aftair 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 propre 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 number — 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 neutralized 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 Avithout
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 down 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. 387

evening we supped by candle-light. After supper, the captain himself called the roll of
our escort, and he found that hve out of the remaining twelve 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 eflect 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 cofiee. 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: —

EXTRAIT

POUB LB MOOCHOIB
L. T. PiVEK, 103 rue Saint-Martin, Fabis.

A wine -bottle carefully rinsed out contained some water from the river. Father
Bobo had just clothed himself with his sacerdotal ornaments, and was smoking
peacefully while waiting till we 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 Iiitroibo 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

388 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 Avhich
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 shoi'e, 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 we 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; ofi'ering in such case to send it to its address. These kind proff"ers 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 atti'ibuted to the
emotion he experienced in this supreme moment. "Senor Fran^ais," 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 Ave Avere squatting in our nut-shells, with our
knees up to our chins, and our elbows pressed close for Avant of room. A last
"hurrah" Avas exchanged betAveen us and the spectators on shore; then, at the
final exclamation, "Adieu, off" with you!" the ropes of liane Avere cut by our

ECHARATl TO CHULITUQUI.

391

pilots, and the river, the current of which at this part rnns 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. Rocks, level with the surface

DEPARTURE FROM CHAHUARIS.

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 miseries
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 ^olus had been let loose against our craft, we reached a barren spot
called Mancur^ali, 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

392

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.

Mancur^ali, where we 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 ItANCUR^ALI.

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 lines 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

EGHARATl TO CHULITUQUI.

393

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 SHORE AT MANOUKfiALI.

containing only skeletons of birds, bones of peccaries {Dicotyles labiatus), 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 our 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

394 PEUU.

furious pace, as estimated by the chronometer and a sufficiently exact knowledge of
the speed of the current/ 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.^ Here the two
streams, meeting at a right angle and heaving their swift Avaters 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 ineflective. Not one wrinkle in my forehead was 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,
with seeing the water which 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

* 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 Echaiuti
and Chahuaris is eight knots an hour.

* Plain of the Moon. It bears this name as far as its junction with the river Apurimac.

ECHARATl TO CHULITUQUI.

395

horses in a race, passed safely these obstacles. Not so the rafts, the surface and size
of Avhich rendered them diflicult to work in the tumultuous water§. 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, and 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 UIVEE3 YANATILI AND QUILLABAMBA 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' 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

' Microiu6gas is tlie hero of a philosophical or sciui-allegorical story by Voltaire. — Tr.

396 PERU.

being on the rafts, and consequently out of ouv 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 wliose
knotty roots grew between the stones. Here I suspended my hammock, in which 1
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 foi'get 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 — soporiferum 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.

VIGHT BIVOUAC AT II A TIT U N U U U A III.-

SEVENTH STAGE.

CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI.

Hymn to Aurora. — Disastrous effects of a uight passed iu the open air. — The shore at Mapituuuhuari. — lu 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 Acliilles and the pride of Agamemnon.- — A raw ham regarded as poison. —
Monograph on the cock-of-the-rock. — Copy of an autlientic deed. — An oath taken on a breviary in the absence of the
Gospel. — Farewell for ever on the shores of Coribeni. — -A bad uight passed at Sirialo. — The site of Polohuatiui. —
Evidence that the theories of M. Proudhon are more widely diffused than people generally imagine. — The Autis of
Sangobatea. — Blue and purple dogs. — Anthropologiad studies. — Sinnico the bowman, 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 watei-s of Cauari. — A ready-made picture of
genre. — The ajoupas of Mauiigali. — How the Franco-Peruvian expedition, following the example of Nausicaa, the
daughter of Alcinous, hung its wet linen to dry on the shore. — The di-saater of Pachiii. — The impossibility of devoting
oneself to a study in botany. — The rapids of Yaviro. — The orator of Sauiriato. — The rapid of Sintuliui. — Death of Father
Bobo. — How a captain of a frigate and his lieutenant lost their shirts while jireserving their presence of mind. — DaCe
obolum Belisario. — Story of a double nightcap. — Divine justice and vengeance follow crime. — From Charybtlis to Scylla.
— A chief of a scientific expedition suspended by the armpits. — The rajud of Tunkini. — Description of a gorge or caiion.
— Sudden passage from darkness to light. — The American jjlains.

We were awoke at eaily dawn by the warbling of birds, which threaded with their
silver sounds, like the tune of flutes in an orchestra, the roaring of tlie rapids, and

398 PERU.

the yelling of the guaribas (howling monkeys, Simla belzebuth). 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 bellowhig
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
twihght, 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 bj
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 imderlined, 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 walked 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 Avitli 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, was 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 Aila, which 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

CHULITUQUl TO TUNKINI.

399

we left Chaluiaris, 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

GBOOP OF TARAPOTE PALMS (IRIAKTEA 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 gi'een 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

400 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 anxioiis looks, we kept asking one of the other, as Bluebeard's Avife asked
of Sister Anne, "Do you see any one 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. Hinpiato, 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 TUNKINI. 401

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 Quinquerutin6, 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 vnih 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 Quinquerutin^, 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 Aveary waiting and anxiety had been felt by them; but in this we were
disappointed. Instead of a friendly smile, we 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

40l» PERU.

without nuite oompivhending it From these stormy harangues, as fixnn clouds charged
with thunder, thoro camo fivm time to time a flash of words which reached us hke
light uins;. and ivvoalcd the situation as in clear daylight. At what given moment, and
in what manner this revolt would rij>en to action, was what none of us could foi-esee.

In the midst of tJiis eftVrvescence of spirits — a barrel of powder which only
wanted a sjmrk to explode it — the cJiiefe of the united commissions, who since our
departure from Chahuaris had with ditticulty restrained their ill temper, saw in the
hostile attitude of our jKople an opportunity to gratify it The Count de la Blanche-
Epine was the first to unm»\sk his battery, and commenced fire by causing the remains
of our pn>visions to be put in a secure place, alleging as a reason for doing so, "that a
Peruvian bsUsero ate like four men and did less work than one; and that it was
necess;»ry in the gxMUMul interest to accustom his stomach to the r«jime of a single
ration, l\^ ihis \olloy of his adversary the commandant of the frigate sharply replied,
that *'when people transformeil his countrymeu into cormorants, and employed them
firom morning to night in fishing up things from the bottom of a river, they ought at
least to feeil them sxxfficiently; and that if it had not been for the great lumbering
trtmks and almi^st empty boxes whicii the French commission dragged about with it
for the sake of loi\king big, the joxirney would not have beeu hindered at every step by
these accidents." This sliarp exchange of ineeudiary phrases between the rival chiefs was
kept up until night had stretched over us her sombre wings. As on the previous
ewtting fires were kindled on the shore, and now, as theu, 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 xmder our yvrj eyes, and in our own pots, the provisions which they
had stoleu from us the evening before. Just at daybreak five balseros took the key of
the fields, and carried off with them the s;\br^ muskets, and haversacks belonging to
the soldier^s of the escort. Left without means of defence, but preserving the use of
their eyess and their twv"» arms, these st>ldier« could still serve us by acting as rowers in
place of those we had K^st. We pr\>iK»sed there&are' to arm them with poles, and mount
them upon the rafts, a proposition which they accepted, but the execution of which
they postponed. Wounded in th^ pride, and considering it a dishonour to hare been
despoiled of their arms by <A«nqMM«« (>l/bii»,«, paltry civilians), they only asked fcnr the
time necessary to take their re>-enge, sweMttng that befcune an hour was over they
wv^ttld bring the vagabonds back dead or alive^ B^^re we cooM open our mouths to
ii^^ly, they had disappeared in the wood. As neither the thaeves nor the thief-catcher?,
neither the civil nor the military, evtsr appe«ur^i again, we concluded that this douUe
exasicm was the r«$ult of a )Jan ccACOCtad in the night; and. while lamentii^ the resuh^
w* tried our best to foi^M the annoyance.

It is prv>bab)e enough that we shouM have succeeded in dismissing the s»il^|eci from
our thoughts, if the savage<$ — hitherto iodiifatent spectatois of tliese di^Mles — ^had not
in tiieir turn shown a like intention to go in senrch of some one or some Aing.
Snch at )e*st was the idea that occurred to ns on seeiag Aea gaAor toge&or Aor
bows and am>w>s, and pass over their anns tbe eottonbeg or wsllet inn^iditbey cuned

CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 403

their comb, their rouge-pot, their looking-ghiss, and their snuff-box. As they moved
off towards the canoes, the chiefs of the united commission rushed forward aud 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 frig;\te had spoken in French and Spanish respectively.
The Amis, 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
couvei-sjttion 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 ovir 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 punaninacunas (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 becituse they had stomachs lined with copper; but on the
next occasion we should be sure to double the dose, and not one of them would escape !

It is easy to underetand the effect of such insinuations on these stupid savages.
It was with the greatest difticulty 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 aud our hearts
full of benevolence towards our allies.

Almost con\inced by the discoui-se of our chaplain that we had never had the least
intention to injure them, the savages seemed disposed to remain with us. Some ti-ifling
articles which Ave 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

404 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. It was natural to look in this region for the most remarkable of its
feathered inhabitants, 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,
where 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 Piprince, 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 iquequemilt,
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 (selector of the Greeks, the gallus
of the Latins — the name of chiacchialacca (chiac-chia-lacca), which, in the language of
these peoples, is the onomatopoeia 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.

CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI.

405

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

TUNKI PBRDVIANUS (PEBDVIAN COCK-OP-THE-ROCk).

inhabits, in families of five or six individuals, the shady copses, and delights in the
half-light of the woodland glades. The female clumsily constructs her nest with small
sticks, grasses, and a few flocks of vegetable silk taken from the Bombax {B. Ceiba),
in the cavity of one of those mossy rocks which are common on the banks of the
river courses on the eastern side of the Andes. She lays two spherical eggs a little
larger than those of the pigeon, and which she alone covers. When first hatched the

406 PERU.

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.

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
crossed 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—^fhxch. revealed clearly
enough the nature of their thoughts. Each seemed to attribute to the other the

CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINL

407

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 di-ew my atten-
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

SITE AND KIVEK OP 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,^ come they knew

^ Estrangerotes. 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.

408 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 had 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

CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI. 409

picture, rather than a picture itself, and left the eyes and the spirit to float in a
dreamlike space. 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 week, 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 us 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, off'ering them, in that case, double their
salary, and recommending them afterwards to the generosity of the government. Upon

410 PERU.

the cliolos 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 back as a desk, wrote out the fo^m of an oath, of which, by special request, 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.

" Yo Antonio Scdazar,^ vecino de la jnision de GocabamhiUas en el voile de Saiita-AJia, digo que me coniprometo d
conducir d las seriores . . . hasta Sarayacu, empleando con este ohjeto para que tengan un feliz viage, la posesion que he
adquirido de varies idiomas de os Chunchos y cuantos esfuerzos personales sean precisos en union de Jose Gabriel Anaya quien
usi mismo se ha comprometido para ayudarme, debo recibir de los setiorea . . . cualrocientos 2}esos 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 servicios y a su cumplimiento he prestado el juramento de la religion sobre 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

^ This 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 joined to his name that of Jos6 Gabriel Anaya, his neighbour at Cocabanibillas, and his
intimate friend.

CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI.

411

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 Aiaa, return to Cuzco, and then take
the route overland by way of Andahuaylas and Pisco to I>ima; 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 we 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 was with difficulty he could restrain his tears.
I felt it right to reply 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 was 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 whose fate was 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 water. As to the baggage, it consisted of two or

412 PERU.

three boxes of insects, which had been continually wetted since our departure from
Chahuai'is, 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 difiiculty 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,^
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 Coleopterae 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 we 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:

* We should have said two; one of the number of that expedition having separated from it at Santa Cruz in tlie
Sierra, to continue his journey alone through the provinces of Bolivia.

CHULITUQUI TO TUNKINI.

413

"We have not sufficiently known each other: everything has tended to separate us; I
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, were either forced open or broken, and their contents partly lost and partly

THE 8EPAKATI0K ON THE SHORE OF CORTB-ENI.

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, which 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 su