JOURNEY FROM THE FORESTS OF TAMBOPATA TO THE PORT OF ISLAY.
Establishment of the plants in Wardian cases.
ON May 11th Mr. Weir completed the packing of the plants, and we were
preparing for the journey up into the _pajonales_ on the following day,
having previously fixed on the _Calisaya_-trees from which we intended
to obtain a supply of seeds in August, when Gironda received an ominous
letter from Don José Mariano Bobadilla, the Alcalde Municipal of
Quiaca, ordering him to prevent me from taking away a single plant; to
arrest both myself and the person who had acted as my guide; and to
send us to Quiaca.[345] I found that an outcry against my proceedings
had been raised by Don Manuel Martel, the red-faced man whom I had met
on the road to Sandia, and that the people of Sandia and Quiaca had
been excited by assertions that the exportation of cascarilla-seeds
would prove the ruin of themselves and their descendants. Gironda,
though friendly and hospitable, feared that the finger of scorn would
be pointed at him, as the man who had allowed the stranger to injure
his countrymen. He wanted to throw away all the plants, except a few
which we might take without observation, and, if we had not kept
constant guard over them, he would have carried his views into effect
without consulting us. I saw that in an immediate retreat was the only
hope of saving the plants; and I explained to Gironda that his views
were incorrect, and that, if necessary, we were prepared to defend our
property by force.
At the same time I addressed a letter to Don José Bobadilla, stating
that his interference was an unwarrantable step which I would not
tolerate; and that, as I understood the provisions of the Constitution
of 1856, the functions of the _Juntas Municipales_ were purely
consultative and legislative, conferring no executive powers whatever,
concluding with an expression of my sense of his patriotic zeal, and of
regret that it should be accompanied by such misguided and lamentable
ignorance of the true interests of his country. Nevertheless, I felt
the imperative necessity of immediate flight, especially as I obtained
information from an Indian of Quiaca that Martel's son and his party,
who had brought the letter, were only the vanguard of a body of
mestizos, who were coming down the valley to seize me, and destroy my
collection of chinchona-plants.
Early in the morning of May 12th we took leave of our kind and
hospitable old friend Gironda, without whose assistance we should have
been exposed to much suffering from want of food; and of the honest
forester Martinez. I expressed my sincere regret to Gironda that any
misunderstanding should have arisen at the close of our acquaintance,
and promised Martinez to obtain guarantees that he should suffer no
molestation on account of the services he had rendered to me. The most
melancholy part of travelling is the parting with friends, never to
meet again.
After a laborious ascent through the forest we found Martel's son and
his party stationed on the verge of the _pajonal_. They were evidently
waiting for us, but did not attempt to impede our passage, and a
display of my revolver, although it may have been very efficacious,
was perfectly harmless, as the powder was quite damp. The young Martel
asked the Indians in Quichua how they dared to carry the plants, and
called after them that they would be seized at Sandia; but he was
civil to me, and we continued our journey peaceably, though full of
apprehensions at the turn affairs might take on our arrival at Sandia.
We had to cross the same country as we had traversed in our journey
to the Tambopata valley; and, in skirting along the verge of a ridge,
near the Marun-kunka, the cargo-mule fell headlong down a precipice of
twenty feet, into a dense mass of trees and underwood. We could see the
poor beast's legs kicking in the air, but it was long before we could
reach her, and more than two hours before a circuitous path could be
cut and cleared away to extricate her. We encamped on the pajonal, and
next day, after a very laborious walk of twelve hours, we reached the
Ypara tambo, in the valley of Sandia, Mr. Weir having collected twenty
plants of _Calisaya Josephiana_ on the way. On May 14th we continued
our journey towards Sandia, and collected fifty-five more plants
of _Calisaya Josephiana_ on the pajonal of Paccay-samana, chiefly
seedlings.
The water of the numerous cascades is very refreshing, and as beautiful
in its limpid transparency as when it dashes down the rocks in dazzling
streams of purest white. We were now too in the land of luscious
oranges and chirimoyas. The commonest bird in the valley of Sandia is
the _cuchu_, a kind of large crow, with a shrill weak caw. It has a
long yellow bill, greenish-brown body and wings, rump-feathers red,
and a long bright yellow tail, with a black line down the centre. The
_cuchus_ walk about the fields eating the young maize, and perch upon
the adjoining trees. Humming-birds are numerous, and very beautiful; I
saw also a little cream-coloured hawk, and lordly eagles were soaring
over the ravine, having their eyries in the inaccessible parts of the
lofty cliffs. Approaching Sandia in the early morning of May 15th, I
came upon many groups of Indians, with their wives and daughters, who
had slept in the road, on their way to and from their coca-harvests.
They were boiling their breakfasts of potatoes over little fires of
dry sticks, which crackled pleasantly. Grand precipices towered up
on either side of the valley, and in the bottom, where the bright
river was murmuring on its way, there was a hut in a field of maize,
surrounded by the drooping crimson flowers of the "love-lies-bleeding,"
with a girl in a bright blue woollen dress sitting at the door.
On arriving at Sandia I went through the ceremony of paying off my
Indians, and taking leave; and Vilca, Ccuri, and Quispi returned to
their homes. I formed a very high opinion of the Indian character
from my experience with these my fellow-labourers. Suspicious they
certainly were at times, and with good reason after the treatment
they have usually met with from white men, but willing, hard-working,
intelligent, good-humoured, always ready to help each other, quick in
forming the encampments, conversing quietly and without noise round the
camp-fires, and always kind to animals; altogether very efficient and
companionable people.
I found things at Sandia in a very alarming state; most of the people
had been excited by letters from Quiaca to prevent me from continuing
my journey with the chinchona-plants, and a sort of league had been
made with other _Juntas Municipales_ to protect their interests, and
prevent foreigners from injuring them. The tactics which were adopted
would have succeeded in their object, but for a great piece of good
luck. I was prevented from hiring mules, except to go to Crucero, where
I knew Martel was stationed, with the intention of raising obstacles
to my further progress until the plants had been killed by the frost.
I was in despair, and meditated setting out on foot, with all the
four bundles of plants on my own mule, when Don Manuel Mena told me
confidentially that, if I would give him my gun, he would get an Indian
to supply beasts, and accompany me to Vilque, on the road to Arequipa.
I willingly agreed to this bargain, and sent Mr. Weir and Pablo to
Crucero, so as to throw Martel off the scent, while I hurried the
plants down to the coast by the most unfrequented line of country.
An alarm had, however, been spread through all the villages bordering
on the chinchona forests, both in Caravaya and Bolivia, and I
ascertained that effectual measures had been taken to prevent my
return for seeds in August. Martel had also written to the towns and
villages between Crucero and Arequipa, to put obstacles in the way of
my retreat, so that I found it necessary to avoid entering any town
or village, and to shape a direct compass-course over the cordilleras
from Sandia to Vilque. I also reluctantly abandoned my intention of
returning to collect seeds in August, and made the best arrangements in
my power to obtain a supply, through a reliable agent, in the ensuing
year. Martel was a mischievous meddling fellow, but the members of
the _Juntas Municipales_ may have been influenced by misguided zeal
for the interests of their country, and for the preservation of a
strict monopoly in a trade which has ceased to exist, for no bark is
now-exported from Caravaya.
In the morning of May 17th I left Sandia on my own trusty mule,
driving two others with the plants before me, and accompanied by
their owner on foot, an Indian named Angelino Paco, a middle-aged
respectable-looking man, who had been one of the Alcaldes of Sandia
in 1859. Mr. Weir started for Arequipa on the same day, by way of
Crucero. Passing through Cuyo-cuyo without stopping, I continued to
ascend a mountain-gorge, by the side of the stream, but Paco had never
been out of the valley of Sandia before, and was useless as a guide.
All along the banks of the stream there were square pools dammed up
and filled with heaps of potatoes and ocas, placed there to freeze
into _chuñus_, the principal food of the Indians when in the forests,
or on the coffee or coca estates. Higher up the gorge all signs of
habitation cease, though there are still abandoned tiers of ancient
terraces, and the mountain scenery is quite magnificent. Night coming
on without a moon, I halted under a splendid range of frowning black
cliffs, and succeeded in pitching the tent in the dark, but there
was no fuel, and on opening the leathern bag I found that my little
stock of food and lucifer-matches had been stolen in Sandia. I was
thus entirely dependent for existence on Paco's parched maize, which
proved uncommonly hard fare. The cold was intense during the night, and
penetrated through the tent and clothes to the very marrow.
At daybreak Paco and I loaded the mules, and continued to ascend the
gorge by the side of the river of Sandia, which becomes a noisy little
rill, and finally falls, as a thin silvery cascade, over a black
cliff. Reaching the summit of the snowy cordillera of Caravaya, we
commenced the journey over lofty grass-covered plains, where the ground
was covered with stiff white frost. There were flocks of vicuñas on
the plain, and _huallatas_, large white geese with brown wings and
red legs, on the banks of the streams; but as we advanced even these
signs of life ceased, and, when night closed in, I looked round on
the desolate scene, and thought that to make a direct cut across the
cordilleras to Vilque by compass-course was a very disagreeable way of
travelling, though, in this case, a necessary one. I had been eleven
hours in the saddle, when Paco found an abandoned shepherd's hut, built
of loose stones, three feet high, and thatched with _ychu_ grass. The
minimum thermometer, during the night, was as low as 20° Fahr. by my
side.
At daylight on May 19th Paco complained of having to rise before the
sun, although he must have been half-frozen. The mules had escaped, and
we were fully three hours in catching them. The ground was covered with
a crisp frost, and during the forenoon we were traveling over the same
lofty wilderness, consisting of grassy undulating hills, with ridges
of cliffs, and huge boulders here and there. The view was bounded on
the north and east by the splendid snowy peaks of the Caravayan range,
and to the north-west by those of Vilcañota. The only living things, in
these wild solitudes, are the graceful _vicuñas_, which peered at us
with their long necks from behind the grassy slopes, the _guanacos_,
the _biscaches_ burrowing amongst the rocks, and the _huallatas_ or
large geese on the margins of streams or pools of water.
At about noon we began to descend a rocky dangerous cuesta, where there
was much trouble with the mules, which were constantly attempting to
lie down and roll with the plants. The steep descent led into the
plain of Putina, which was covered with flocks of sheep, with small
farms, shaded by clumps of _queñua_-trees, nestling under the sandstone
cliffs which bound the plain. Crossing another range, we reached a
swampy plain, with sheep and cattle scattered over it, and stopped at
an abandoned shepherd's hut, the exact counterpart of last night's
lodging. I had been ten hours in the saddle, and was faint from hunger,
but had to go supperless to bed. Paco was nearly breaking down from a
bad wound in his foot, but I bandaged it with lint, and he was able to
proceed. He had an _alco_ or Peruvian dog with him, which was devotedly
attached to its master. These dogs are something like Newfoundlands,
only much smaller, generally black or white, and seldom bark.
On the morrow the way, for the first two hours, led over grassy
hills covered with flocks of sheep, with shepherd-lads playing on
_pincullus_, or flutes, the sound of which came floating pleasantly
on the air, from every direction far and near. We passed several
blue mountain-lakes, with islands of rushes, and many ducks. From
10 A.M. until sunset the whole day was occupied in crossing a vast
plain covered with sheep and cattle, and just after sunset we reached
a small _estancia_ or sheep-farm. It was occupied by a large family
of good-tempered Indians, whose eyes glistened when I offered them a
_cesto_ of coca which I had with me, in exchange for unlimited supplies
of milk and cheese. It was pleasant to see their happiness at the
acquisition of this treasure, which was shared by the children and
dogs. The place was full of guinea-pigs, which are considered great
delicacies. The extreme hunger from which I had suffered since leaving
Sandia was here relieved by plenty of milk, cheese, and parched maize.
Every night I had wrapped the Russian mats, which enveloped the plants,
in warm ponchos, and the tent. The crooked wriggling queñua-branches,
which formed the roof of the hut, looked like snakes in the dim light
after sunset.
At sunrise on May 21st there was a white frost, and the deep blue sky
was without a single cloud. Suddenly an immense flock of flamingos,
called _parihuanas_[346] in Quichua, rose in a long column from the
margin of the river of Azangaro, which flows through the plain. These
birds, with their crimson wings, and rose-coloured necks and bodies,
whirring up in a long spiral column, formed one of the most beautiful
sights I ever saw.
Crossing a range of rocky hills, we entered a plain, which extended to
the banks of a large lake, with the little town of Arapa built along
the shore. Dark mountains rise up immediately in the rear. I believe
that I am the first English traveller who has ever visited this lake,
and M. de Castelnau, who obtained some information respecting it at
Puno, says that it is not to be found in any map.[347] Along the
shores there were long rows of flamingos, standing like a gigantic
regiment, with a few skirmishers thrown out fishing. There were also
_huallatas_, ibises, ducks, and a stout-built stunted sort of crane.
Journeying on, we began to cross a vast plain which extends for many
leagues round the north-west corner of lake Titicaca, and is dotted
with walled _estancias_ and flocks of sheep. At length we reached the
ford over the river of Azangaro, in sight of the little village of
Achaya, to the left. The water came above the mules' bellies, and,
crossing half a mile of swampy ground, we came to another ford over
the river of Pucara. The two rivers, uniting just below Achaya, form
the Ramiz, the largest feeder of lake Titicaca. We continued our way
for many hours over the plain, until we reached an Indian's hut long
after dark, having been twelve hours in the saddle, at the slow tedious
pace of a tired mule. The cargo-mules had played every kind of vicious
trick throughout the day, running off in different directions at every
opportunity, and constantly trying to roll.
Starting at daybreak on the 22nd, we forded the river of Lampa, crossed
the road between Lampa and Puno, passed over a rocky cordillera and
a wide plain, and reached the little town of Vilque by four in the
afternoon. The place presented a very different appearance from the
time when we passed through it in March, on our way to Puno. It was
now the time of the great yearly fair, when buyers and sellers from
every part of South America flock to the little _sierra_ town. This
great gathering was first established in the time of the Spaniards, and
it is not improbable that the Jesuits, who once possessed the great
sheep-farm of Yanarico near Vilque, and who always looked well after
the improvement of their property, may have been the great promoters of
the fair.
Outside the town there were thousands of mules from Tucuman waiting for
Peruvian arrieros to buy them. In the plaza were booths full of every
description of Manchester and Birmingham goods; in more retired places
were gold-dust and coffee from Caravaya, silver from the mines, bark
and chocolate from Bolivia, Germans with glass-ware and woollen knitted
work, French modistes, Italians, Quichua and Aymara Indians in their
various picturesque costumes--in fact, all nations and tongues. In the
plaza, too, there were excellent cafés and dining-rooms, all under
canvas; but house-rent was exorbitant, and a lodging was not to be had
for love or money. There was much complaint of the injury done to trade
by the threatened war with Bolivia, and the edict of President Linares,
prohibiting all intercourse with Peru.
I placed the bundles of plants, carefully wrapped round with ponchos,
in a barley-field occupied by arrieros, covered over with their warm
_aparejos_; but the thermometer was down to 23° Fahr. in the night.
In the afternoon of the 23rd I left Vilque for the sheep-farm of
Taya-taya, in company with Dr. Don Camillo Chaves the superintendent.
The road was crowded with people coming from Arequipa to the fair
at Vilque: native shopkeepers, English merchants coming to arrange
for their supplies of wool, and a noisy company of arrieros on their
way to buy mules, and armed to the teeth with horse-pistols, old
guns, and huge daggers, to defend their money-bags. Many of them were
good-looking fellows, the older ones bearing signs of hard drinking.
The sheep-farm of Taya-taya,[348] four leagues from Vilque, is a large
range of mud-plastered buildings with thatched roofs, built round
a large _patio_, on a bleak plain surrounded by mountains. In the
morning a flock of forty llamas were being laden with packs of wool in
the patio, at which they were making bitter lamentations. We started
early on May 24th, and encountered a cold gale of wind, blowing in
icy squalls over the cordillera. I reached the posthouse of Cuevillas
in the night, a distance of 45 miles; got as far as the posthouse of
Pati the next day; encountered a tremendous gale of wind on the skirts
of the volcano of Arequipa, but descended to the valley of Cangallo
on the 26th; and rode into the city of Arequipa, with my plants, on
the morning of the 27th of May. Mr. Weir arrived from Crucero on the
29th, having, as I expected, found Martel in that town, whose designs
were thus baffled. From Sandia to Arequipa is a distance of nearly 300
miles. No opposition was made to my departure from Arequipa, although
the local newspaper had something to say afterwards,[349] and on June
1st the plants were safely deposited by the Wardian cases at the port
of Islay.
"John of the Fountain" had provided plenty of soil, and by the 3rd all
the plants were established in the Wardian cases by Mr. Weir. But the
difficulties of getting the plants out of the country were not entirely
ended by my escape from Martel and the _Juntas Municipales_ of the
interior. The Superintendent of the custom-house of Islay declared it
to be illegal to export cascarilla-plants, and refused to allow them
to be shipped without an express order from the Minister of Finance
and Commerce at Lima. He had probably received intelligence respecting
the contents of the cases from Vilque, where all news centres at the
time of the fair. This obliged me to go to Lima to obtain the necessary
order from Colonel Salcedo, the Minister of Finance, which, after much
difficulty, I succeeded in doing, and returned with it to Islay on June
23rd.[350]
Meanwhile, since the plants had been established in the Wardian cases,
they had begun to bud and throw out young leaves, which seemed to prove
that they had quite recovered from their journey across the arctic
climate of the Andes. In the evening of the 23rd the cases were hoisted
into a launch, ready to go on board the steamer on the following
morning; and during the night attempts were made to bribe the man in
charge to bore holes and kill the plants by pouring in boiling water,
but without success. On the following day they were safely lodged on
board the steamer bound for Panama.
It was impossible not to feel regret that H. M. steamer 'Vixen,' then
lying idle at Callao, had not been ordered to take the plants direct
across the Pacific to Madras, when a majority would have arrived in
perfect order. But this was not to be, and we had to look forward to
long voyages, several trans-shipments, and the intense heat of the Red
Sea, before this most valuable collection of plants could reach their
destination in Southern India.
Yet it could not but be satisfactory to look back upon the
extraordinary difficulties we had overcome, the hardships and dangers
of the forests, the scarcity of the plants, the bewildering puzzle to
find them amidst the dense underwood, the endeavour to stop my journey
first at Tambopata and then in Sandia, the rapid flight across unknown
parts of the cordillera, and the attempts first to stop and then to
destroy the plants at Islay: it was a source of gratification to look
back upon all this, and then to see the great majority of the plants
budding and looking healthy in the Wardian cases.
The climate at Islay, during the time that the plants remained there,
was as follows, from the 1st to the 24th of June:--
Mean temperature 69° Fahr.
Mean minimum at night 60
Highest temperature observed 73
Lowest 58
Entire range 15
The temperature is almost exactly the same as that of the Tambopata
forests in May; but the forests were always exceedingly moist, while
Islay is intensely dry. This, however, was unimportant to the plants in
their cases.