Departure from Cerro Pasco—Mint at Quinua—San
Rafael—Ambo—Quicacan—Huanuco—Cerro de Carpis—Chinchao
valley—Huallaga river.
By cajoling, and threats of appeal to the military, (a small military
force is stationed here as a police,) we got our drunken vagabonds to
"load up" and set off by half-past 1 p. m. One of them gave us the
slip at the outskirts of the town. The other wished to look him up,
or at least to get the key of a tambo where two spare mules belonging
to them were locked up; but we would not hear of it; and driving the
loaded mules on, he was fain to follow. The deserter joined us at our
stopping-place for the night, but on finding the condition of things,
he had to return to the Cerro for his missing beasts.
Almost immediately on leaving the Cerro, and ascending the hills that
encircled it on the north, we came in sight of the Eastern Andes, which
is here a Cordillera, for it has many abrupt and snow-clad peaks.
Close at hand, on the left, was a spot of marshy ground, which had
some interest for us, as we were not to quit the waters which we saw
trickling in tiny streams from it, until, swelled by many others, they
pour themselves into the Atlantic by a mouth one hundred and eighty
miles broad. This is the source of the _Huallaga_, one of the head
tributaries of the Amazon.
Seven miles in a N. N. E. direction, and passing many haciendas for the
grinding of ore, brought us to the village of _Quinua_, where a mint
was established several years ago, but is now abandoned. The machinery
for coining is much better than any I have seen in South America. It
was made by a Boston man, named Hacket, who also made nearly all the
machinery for the sugar-mills near Huanuco. There are gold mines in this
neighborhood, but I think they are not worked. This village is just at
the point where, leaving the sterility of the Cerro, we fall in with
bushes and flowers.
Four miles further we stopped for the night at a hacienda called
Chiquirin, which appears once to have been flourishing, but which is
now nearly abandoned, being only tenanted by an old man to take care of
the house. The bridge, which crossed the stream in front of the house,
had had arched gateways at each end; and a respectable-looking church
occupied one side of the patio. A field or two of barley is all the
cultivation now about it. Indeed, there seemed little room for more, for
the hills on each side now began to close in and present the appearance
of mountains; and I have no doubt that, though still going down hill,
we have begun to cross the second range of the Andes. We could get no
supper at this place. I was tired enough to care little about it. Had
Ijurra been with us, he would probably have found something; but he was
absent, having dropped the compass on the road and ridden back to look
for it. The height of Chiquirin, by boiling point, is eleven thousand
five hundred and forty-two feet above the level of the sea.
_July 14._—We had a pleasant ride down the valley, which opens a little
and gives room for some cultivation. There were pinks and holy-hocks in
the little gardens adjoining the cottages; also cabbages, lettuce, and
onions. We stopped to breakfast at _Caxarmarquilla_, a village of some
eight or ten houses. The cura received me hospitably, and gave me some
breakfast. He told me there were one hundred and fifty souls in the
Doctrina. I should judge there were about thirty in the village. The
rock of this district is red sandstone and conglomerate. At six miles
further we passed a hacienda, where there were roses in bloom, and the
flowering pea, with wheat on the hill-side, and a grist-mill; also,
alfalfa and maize. Immediately afterwards, a valley from the southward
and eastward joined the one I was travelling in, bringing its stream
of water to swell the Huallaga. Gypsum crops out of the hills on the
road-side, making the roads white. Houses here are whitewashed with it.
A mile further is the village of _Huariaca_, a long, straggling place
of one, and in some places two streets. It contains about seven or
eight hundred inhabitants. I thought I saw more white people and more
industry in this place than is common in the small Sierra towns. We
met continually mules laden with tobacco, coca, and fruit, going from
Huanuco and the Montaña beyond it to the Cerro. We stopped, at half-past
five, at _San Rafael_, an Indian town of some two hundred and fifty
souls, with a white lieutenant governor, and put up at his house.
I had my bed made inside, instead of outside the house, which was a
mistake, as I was "pigging in" with all the family; and from want of
air, and villanous smell, expected to catch tabardillo before morning.
The thermometer was at 62° at 7 p. m., and I imagine did not fall
lower than 50° during the night; so that I could very well have slept
outside, and advise all travellers to do so, providing themselves with
warm bed-clothing. Here I was joined by Ijurra, whom I was very glad to
see, and the delinquent arriero, with his two mules. The height of San
Rafael, by boiling point, is eight thousand five hundred and fifty-one
feet above the level of the sea.
[Illustration: CERRO DE PASCO.
Pl. 10.
Rivero del.
Wagner & McGuigan's Lith. Phila.]
[Illustration: MINER. CERRO PASCO.
Pl. 11.
Rivero del.
Wagner & McGuigan's Lith. Phila.]
[Illustration: ORE CARRIER, CERRO PASCO.
Pl. 12.
Rivero del.
Wagner & McGuigan's Lith. Phila.]
_July 15._—We got alfalfa for our mules, but it is now getting very
scarce. The valley, after leaving San Rafael, is very narrow, and
the road rises and falls along the bare flanks of the mountains. The
character of the rock is a dark schist; the growth, willows—palma
christi—maguey, (a species of cactus, with a very long, broad, yet
sharp-pointed leaf,) which throws out from the centre of a clump of
leaves a light stalk of three or four inches diameter at the base,
and frequently thirty feet in height. This flowers towards the top,
and bears a sort of nut-like fruit. The stem is much used for roofing
houses, and the broad, thick leaves serve for thatch.
We shot at condors hovering over a dead mule, and saw a small hawk of
variegated and pretty plumage, of a species which we had before seen
near Oroya. About ten miles from San Rafael we were crossing the highest
part of the chain. An opening in the mountains to the right gave us
a view of some splendid snow-clad peaks. After an hour's ride over a
precipitous and broken path, rendered dangerous in some places by the
sliding of the earth and soft rock from above upon it, we commenced a
very sharp descent, which brought us, in fifteen minutes, to fruit-trees
and a patch of sugar-cane on the banks of the stream. The sudden
transition from rugged mountain peaks, where there was no cultivation,
to a tropical vegetation, was marvellous. A few miles further on we
crossed the boundary-line between the provinces of Pasco and Huanuco.
The transition is agreeable, and I was glad to exchange the mining for
the agricultural country. At half-past four, we arrived at the town of
_Ambo_, a village of one thousand inhabitants, situated at the junction
of the rivers _Huacar_ and Huallaga. The former stream comes down a
ravine to the westward; each is about thirty-five yards broad, and,
uniting, they pour their waters by the town with great velocity. The
rock of this region is mostly an argillaceous schist, though just above
Ambo the road was bordered by a perpendicular hill of beautiful red
sandstone. The strata all along this route are nearly north and south
in their directions, and have an inclination upwards towards the north
of from forty to seventy degrees.
Two miles from Ambo, on the right or opposite bank of the river, is
another very pretty little village, almost hidden in the luxuriant
vegetation about it. The whole valley now becomes very beautiful. From
the road on which we were travelling to the river's brink, (a breadth
of quarter of a mile,) the land (which is a rich river bottom) is
laid off into alternate fields of sugar cane and alfalfa. The blended
green and yellow of this growth, divided by willows, interspersed with
fruit-trees, and broken into wavy lines by the serpentine course of
the river, presented a gay and cheerful appearance, which, contrasting
with the forbidding aspect of the rocks we had just left, filled
us with pleasurable emotions, and indicated that we had exchanged a
semi-barbarous for a civilized society. The only drawback with me was
excessive fatigue. When Ijurra rode back to Cerro Pasco for the compass,
he happened to be mounted on my mule. This gave her extra work; and
the ride of to-day was a long one, so that the little beast by this
time could barely put one foot before the other. There is scarcely
anything more fatiguing than to ride a tired horse; and when I arrived
(at five) at the hospitable gates of the hacienda of _Quicacan_, and
with difficulty lifted myself out of the saddle, it was with the deep
sigh which always accompanies relief from pain, and which was much more
pleasurable than the sight of waving fields and babbling brooks.
The owner of the hacienda—an English gentleman, named Dyer, to whom I
brought letters from Cerro Pasco—received me and my large party exactly
as if it were a matter of course, and as if I had quite as much right
to enter his house as I had to enter an inn. The patio was filled with
horses, belonging to a large party from Huanuco bound to Lima, and every
seat in the ample portico seemed filled. I was somewhat surprised at
the size and appointments of the establishment. It looked like a little
village of itself, with its offices and workshops. The dwelling—a large,
substantial, though low building, with a corridor in front supported on
massive arches, and having the spaces between the pillars enclosed with
iron wire to serve for cages for numerous rare and pretty birds—occupied
one side of the enclosed square; store-rooms occupied another; the
sugar-house, another; and a chapel, the fourth. A bronze fountain, with
an ample basin, decorated the centre. I was strongly reminded of the
large farm-houses in some parts of Virginia: the same number of servants
bustling about in each other's way; the children of the master and the
servant all mixed up together; the same in the hospitable welcome to all
comers; the same careless profusion. When I saw the servants dragging
out mattresses and bed-clothing from some obscure room, and going with
them to different parts of the house to make pallets for the visitors
who intended to spend the night, I seemed carried back to my boyish
days, and almost fancied that I was at a country wedding in Virginia.
We dined at six in another spacious corridor, enclosed with glass,
and looking out upon a garden rich with grape-vines and flowers. After
dinner, the party broke up into groups for cards or conversation, which
continued until ten o'clock brought tea and bed-time.
I conversed with an intelligent and manly Frenchman named Escudero. His
account of the seeking and gathering of Peruvian bark was exceedingly
interesting; and I should judge that it is an occupation which involves
much fatigue and exposure. He spoke very highly of the mechanical
abilities of my countryman, Miguel Hacket, and gave me a letter to
deliver to him wherever I might find him.
I also had some talk with quite a pretty young woman, who had come
from Quito by the way of the Pastaza, Marañon, and Huallaga rivers. She
said she was scared at the _malos pasos_, or rapids of the river, and
never could relish monkey soup; but what gave her most uneasiness was
the polite attention of the _Huambisas_ Indians. She declared that this
was frightful, and swore a good round oath, (that might have satisfied
Hotspur in a lady,) "_Caramba!_ but they were mad for a white wife."
Report here says that she prefers Yankee to Indian, and is about to
bestow her hand upon a long countryman of ours, the head blacksmith,
named Blake.
_July 16._—Dyer had put me into a wide "four-poster." None but a
traveller in these parts can imagine the intense pleasure with which I
took off my clothes and stretched my weary limbs between linen sheets,
and laid my head upon a pillow with a frilled case to it. I could
scarcely sleep for the enjoyment of the luxury. Rest, too, has renewed
my beast; and the little black, which I thought last night was entirely
done up, is this morning as lively as a filly.
The sugar-mill of Quicacan is composed of an overshot wheel, turned by a
race brought from the river far above, and giving motion to three heavy
brass cylinders that crush the cane between them. The juice falls into
a receptacle below, and is led off by a trough to the boilers, which
are arranged in order over the furnaces like a common kitchen range.
After a certain amount of boiling, it is poured by means of ladles into
wooden moulds, greased and laid on the ground in rows. This makes the
_chancaca_, so much used throughout Peru. It supplies the place, in this
country, to the lower classes, which the wares of candy shops do in our
own. Two of the moulds are put together and enveloped in the leaf of
the cane. They make a pound, and are sold at the hacienda for six and
a quarter cents.
Cutting the cane, bringing it in, stripping it and cutting off the tops,
supplying the mill, boiling the sugar, and making the chancaca, employ
about twenty men and four mules. With this force one hundred dollars'
worth of chancaca may be made in a day; but Mr. Dyer says that he is
not now making more than twenty or thirty dollars, and not paying his
expenses. He attributes this to the fact that his fields are wearing
out and require replanting. He thinks that cane should be replanted
every ten or fifteen years. It is fit for cutting in twelve months after
planting. This is a very extensive establishment; and Mr. Dyer, besides
his cane-fields, which are on the river side, cultivates a farm for
raising wheat, maize, peas, beans, and potatoes, on the hills above.
We left Quicacan at noon, in company with Mr. Dyer and my French
friend; stopped at another hacienda, about a mile and a half from this,
belonging to a gentleman named Ingunza, and at another a little lower
down, called Andabamba, belonging to Señor San Miguel, to whom I brought
letters from Lima. All these, with another on the same road, belonged
to a Colonel Lucar, of Huanuco, who gave them to these gentlemen, his
sons-in-law. Quicacan was the family mansion, and had been longest under
cultivation. At half-past four we arrived at Huanuco, and, presenting
a letter to Colonel Lucar, from his son-in-law Dyer, we were kindly
received, and lodgings appointed us in his spacious and commodious
house.
_July 17._—Huanuco is one of the most ancient cities in Peru. It is
prettily situated on the left bank of the Huanuco or Huallaga river,
which is here about forty yards wide, and at this time (the dry season)
about two feet deep in the channel. It, however, every two or three
hundred yards, runs over rocks or a gravelly bed, which makes it
entirely innavigable, even for canoes, though when the river is up I
believe articles are transported on it from hacienda to hacienda in
small scows. A smaller stream, called the Higueros, empties into it just
above the city.
The houses are built of adobe, with tile roofs, and almost all have
large gardens attached to them—so that the city covers a good deal
of ground without having many houses. The gardens are filled with
vegetables and fruit-trees, and make delightful places of recreation
during the warmer parts of the day.
The population numbers from four to five thousand. They seem to be a
simple and primitive people; and, like all who have little to do, are
much attached to religious ceremonies—there being no less than fifteen
churches in the city, some of them quite large and handsome. The people
are civil and respectful, and, save a curious stare now and then at my
spectacles and red beard, are by no means offensive in their curiosity,
as Smyth represents them to have been some seventeen years ago.
The trade of the place is with Cerro Pasco on the one hand, and the
villages of the Huallaga on the other. It sends chancaca, tobacco,
fruit, and vegetables to the Cerro, and receives foreign goods (mostly
English) in return. A shop-keeper gave me the price of some of the
articles in his store: Broad striped cassimere, such as gentlemen's
trousers are made of, five and a half dollars the yard; very common
silk handkerchiefs, one dollar; common silk hat, five dollars; blue
cloth drillings, twenty-five cents the yard; baize, eighty-seven and
a half cents; narrow ribbon, one dollar and twenty-five cents the
piece; cotton handkerchiefs, two dollars and twenty-five cents the
dozen; tolerable Scotch carpeting, one dollar and a half the vara,
of thirty-three English inches; bayeta castilla, (a kind of serge
or woollen cloth, with a long shag upon it, and of rich colors,) one
dollar and seventy-five cents the vara. In the market, beef and mutton
from the province of Huamalies sell at six and a quarter cents the
pound; Indian corn, twenty-five cents the olla, of twenty-five pounds;
potatoes, seventy-five cents for the _costal_, of fifty pounds; salt,
from the coast at Huacho, six and a quarter cents the pound; sugar,
generally from the coast, twenty-five cents the pound, (this in an
eminently sugar country;) coffee, twelve and a half cents. Very little
meat is raised. I saw a small quantity of pork, with plenty of tallow
candles; and rotten potatoes for the consumption of the Indians. Bread
is good, but is generally made, in the best houses, of American flour
from Lima. Vegetables and fruit are abundant and cheap. This is, _par
excellence_, the country of the celebrated chirimoya. I have seen this
fruit in Huanuco quite twice as large as it is generally seen in Lima,
and of most delicious flavor. They have a custom here to cover the
finest specimens with gold leaf, and place them as a decoration on the
altar of some patron Saint on his festival. The church afterwards sells
them; and I have seen several on Colonel Lucar's table.
This gentleman is probably the richest and most influential man in
Huanuco. He seems to have been the father of husbandry in these parts,
and is the very type of the old landed proprietor of Virginia, who
has lived always upon his estates, and attended personally to their
cultivation. Seated at the head of his table, with his hat on to keep
the draught from his head—and which he would insist upon removing
unless I would wear mine—his chair surrounded by two or three little
negro children, whom he fed with bits from his plate; and attending
with patience and kindness to the clamorous wants of a pair of splendid
peacocks, a couple of small parrots of brilliant and variegated plumage,
and a beautiful and delicate monkey—I thought I had rarely seen a more
perfect pattern of the patriarch. His kind and affectionate manner to
his domestics, (all slaves,) and to his little grandchildren, a pair of
sprightly boys, who came in in the evening from the college, was also
very pleasing. There are thirty servants attached to the house, large
and small; and the family is reduced to the Colonel and his lady, (at
present absent,) and the boys.
The climate of Huanuco is very equable and very salubrious. There are no
cases of affection of the chest which commence here; on the contrary,
people with diseases caused by the inclemency of the weather about
Cerro Pasco come to Huanuco to be cured. Dysentery and tabardillo are
the commonest diseases; and I see many people (particularly women) with
goitre. I saw a woman who had one that seemed to arise under each ear
and encircle the throat like an inflated life-preserver. The affection
is said to be owing to the impurity of the water, which is not fit to
drink unless filtered. The lower class of people do not attend to this,
and thus the disease is more general with them than with the higher
classes. It is disagreeable to walk out in the middle of the day, on
account of a strong northerly wind, which sets in at this season about
noon, and lasts till dark, raising clouds of dust. The mornings and
evenings are very pleasant, though the sun is hot for an hour or two
before the breeze sets in. The height of Huanuco above the level of the
sea is, by boiling point, five thousand nine hundred and forty-six feet.
There is a college with about twenty-two "internal," and eighty
day-scholars. Its income, derived from lands formerly belonging to
convents, is seven thousand and five hundred dollars yearly. It has
a fine set of chemical and other philosophical apparatus, with one
thousand specimens of European minerals. These things were purchased in
Europe, at a cost of five thousand dollars; and the country owes them to
the zeal for learning and exertions of Don Mariano Eduardo de Rivero,
formerly prefect of the department, director general of the mines, and
now consul general to the Netherlands, where he is said to be preparing
a voluminous work on the antiquities of Peru. As I shall probably not
have occasion to refer to him again, I must in this place express my
sense of gratitude for the information I have received from his most
valuable publication, "The Memorial of Natural Sciences, and of National
and Foreign Industry," edited by himself and Don Nicolas Pierola, the
modest and learned director of the museum at Lima. The Department of
Junin owes much to its former prefect. He has founded schools, improved
roads, built cemeteries, and, in short, whatever good thing I noticed
on my route might generally be traced back to Rivero.
_July 18._—I called on the sub-prefect of the province, and delivered an
official letter from the prefect of the department, whom I had visited
at Cerro Pasco. This gentleman's name is Maldonado. He received me
courteously, and promised me any assistance I might stand in need of. He
seemed to be at bitter feud with all my friends; and they represented
him as a high-handed personage. We met at Quicacan a colonel who was
going to Lima, escorted by a number of his friends, to complain to the
government of his having been illegally imprisoned by the sub-prefect.
I believe the cause was an alleged libel, or libellous publication
against the sub-prefect; and if it was of the nature of some of the
publications daily seen in the Lima papers, he deserved imprisonment, or
worse punishment, for they are generally the foulest and most scurrilous
things, which no decent paper in the United States would publish, and
which would certainly bring upon the writer a fine or the horse-whip.
People in Huanuco are fully alive to the importance of opening the
navigation of the Huallaga to their city. They speak of it as a thing
that would be of incalculable advantage to them; and their leaders and
influential men have often urged them to be up and doing. But, although
they cannot be stirred up to the undertaking themselves, they are
jealous of the attempt by any other route. I had a visit this evening
from my Cerro Pasco acquaintance, the Intendente of Pozuzu. The old
gentleman discoursed long and earnestly about his route from the Cerro
to Pozuzu, and thence to Mayro. When he went away, Colonel Lucar asked
me what I called that science in my country that put people to sleep;
and when I told him that it was animal magnetism, he said that that old
man was a capital magnetiser, for he had been to sleep an hour. I think
there was some jealousy in this.
Rice, tobacco, and straw hats, in small quantities, are now brought on
the backs of Indians from the towns on the Huallaga to Huanuco.
Colonel Lucar showed me his "_cuarto de habios_," or room where he keeps
all his horse furniture. He has at least a dozen saddles of various
patterns, with bridles, pillons, horse-cloths, holsters, and everything
complete. Most of the bridles and stirrups are heavily plated with
silver. People take great care of their horses in this country, and
are generally good horsemen. There are one or two carriages and gigs in
Huanuco, made in England.
I sold my mules to the Colonel for half that I had given for them, with
the condition that we should ride them as far as practicable and send
them back by the arriero. The old gentleman agreed to it, though rather
reluctantly. He said that some fifteen years ago, a countryman of mine,
and calling himself an officer of the navy also, had sold him his mules
for pistols and fowling-pieces, on the same terms; but when he arrived
at the end of his journey, he sold the mules again, and went off with
the proceeds. The Colonel could not give me the name of this honest
individual. I afterwards ascertained that he was not an American, but
a German.
_July 22._—Much to my annoyance our servant Mauricio deserted this
morning. Ijurra accuses me of having spoiled him by indulgence; and I,
on the other hand, think that he had disgusted him by tyranny. I imagine
he went back to Lima with _Castillo_, a young man who had been governor
of the district of Tarapoto, on the Huallaga, and who was going to Lima
with stuffed birds' skins to sell. This was an intelligent young man,
who gave me information about the Montaña. He said I would be amply
protected in my contemplated voyage up the Ucayali with twenty-five
_Chasutinos_, (Indians of Chasuta,) for they were a brave and hardy
people; but that the Cocamas and Cocamillos, from about the mouth of the
river, were great cowards, and would desert me on the first appearance
of the savages—that they had so treated him. I rather suspect that the
reason for Don Mauricio's shabby behavior was, that we were getting into
his own country, and that he had private reasons for desiring to avoid
a visit home. He had asked me at Tarma to let him go with Gibbon.
Our arriero made his appearance at noon, instead of early in the
morning, as he had promised; but we are now getting used to this. We
did not ride our own mules, as they were sick and not in condition to
travel, and the arriero supplied us with others. I got a horse, but
did not derive much benefit from the exchange. Our course lay down the
valley N. E., crossing the river soon after leaving the town by a rude
bridge floored with the leaves of the maguey. We found the road good,
but rocky, principally with the _debris_ of quartz. Gold is occasionally
found, but in small quantities, in the mountains bordering this valley.
At six miles from Huanuco we passed the village of _Sta. Maria del
Valle_, of three hundred inhabitants. We stopped and took some fruit
and pisco with the curate, to whom also I had a letter from Lima.
Every traveller in this country should provide himself with letters of
introduction. People, it is true, will receive him without them, but do
not use that cordial and welcome manner which is so agreeable.
The cura had some fifty or sixty new and well-bound books on shelves,
and seemed a man superior to the generality of his class. He said that
Valle was a poor place, producing only sugar-cane, which the inhabitants
put to no other use than to make _huarapo_ to drink; and that, if it
were not for the neighborhood of Huanuco, he thought that he should
starve. Huarapo is the fermented juice of the cane, and is a very
pleasant drink of a hot day.
We saw a few sheep and goats after leaving the village. The trees were
principally willow and fruit-trees, with here and there a cotton tree,
bearing indifferent staple. The mountains on the left, or Huanuco side,
send down spurs towards the river, between which are pretty little
valleys, not deep and narrow, but spread out like a fan. In each one of
these there is situated a small village or a hacienda, presenting, with
its fields of cane and alfalfa, and, higher up, wheat, a very pretty
appearance. It is not so on the right bank. The small streams that flow
into the river from this side come down rugged ravines, with sides of
soft rock and white earth, and are generally very muddy. We stopped
two miles beyond Valle at a hacienda called _Chullqui_, and slept in an
Indian hut with several other people, one a sick woman with a child two
days old. Height of Chullqui, by B. P., five thousand six hundred and
twenty-six feet above the level of the sea.
_July 23._—Course still N. E. along the banks of the Huallaga. Trees
principally small acacias. At six miles from Chullqui we crossed the
river, turned to the north, and ascended a ravine (down which flowed
a small stream) to the village of _Acomayo_. The river continues its
course to the northward and eastward and sweeps around the base of the
hills, which form (going up) the right-hand side of the Quebrada, up
which we were travelling. The road which we had left, continuing along
the banks of the river, leads to Panao, Muña, and Pozuzu; Smyth's route
to the Pachitea.
Acomayo is a very pleasantly-situated village, of about three hundred
inhabitants. When the authorities are asked concerning the population
of any place, they always give the number of families. This place has
seventy "casados," or couples of married people; and I judge, from
experience, that five to each family is a fair allowance. The water here
is very good, which was an agreeable change from the Huanuco water;
and the fruits, oranges, figs, guavas, and chirimoyas, are of good
quality. I noticed, also, a tree bearing a large bell-shaped flower,
called _floripondio_. This is an old acquaintance of mine; it gives out
a delicious fragrance at night, which, accompanied, as I have known it,
by soft air, rich moon-light, and gentle company, makes bare existence
a happiness.
About three miles up the "Quebrada" we turned to the northeast, and
commenced the ascent of the _Cerro de Carpis_. This is one of a range of
mountains running to the southward and eastward, forming the left-hand
side of the valley of Acomayo, (looking down the stream,) and dividing
the Sierra from the Montaña. The ascent is six miles long, and very
tedious. I had no water to ascertain its height by the boiling-point
apparatus, but judge, from the great descent to _Cashi_, (a distance of
four miles, and so steep that we preferred to walk and lead our beasts,)
that the pass is full eight thousand feet above the level of the sea;
Cashi being six thousand five hundred and forty feet.
There is said to be a superb view of the Montaña from the summit of this
hill, but the clouds (almost within reach of the hand) boiling up from
the great deep below effectually cut it off, and we could see nothing.
When we had got some distance down, and obtained a view through an
opening in the thick growth of the mountain-side, we looked down upon
the most rugged country I have ever seen. There seemed to be no order
or regularity in the hills, which were thickly covered with forest; but
the whole had the appearance of the surface of a vast boiling caldron
suddenly stricken motionless. Just at the summit, and where the road
turns to descend, hundreds of little wooden crosses were placed in the
niches of the rock—votive offerings of the pious arrieros, either of
gratitude for dangers passed, or for protection against dangers to come,
in the ascent or descent of the mountain.
We walked down the descent, leading the beasts. The road was very rocky
and muddy, and the mountain-side was clad with small trees and thick
undergrowth. There were many creepers and parasitical plants, some of
them very graceful and pretty. We stopped, at six, at a tambo called
Cashi, built on a plat, about half-way down the mountain. We found our
place of rest very agreeable; night clear, calm, and cold.
_July 24._—An hour's travel brought us to the bottom of the hill,
where we encountered the _Chinchao_ valley coming down from the right.
We crossed the stream that flowed through it, and travelled down the
valley on its right bank, the road rising and falling on the sides
of the hills. The character of the rock is a dark slate-stone, with
occasional beds of gypsum. At seven miles from the tambo we passed the
village of Chinchao, containing twelve houses and a church, with cotton,
coffee, orange, and plantain trees scattered about the village. A pretty
shrub, bearing a gay, red flower, in appearance like our crape myrtle,
bordered the road-side. It is called _San Juan_, because it blooms
about St. John's day, the 24th of June, like the _Amancaes_ at Lima.
The cultivation of the coca commences here.
I brought a letter from the sub-prefect at Huanuco, for the governor
of Chinchao, but he was absent at his chacra, and not to be found. We
then asked for the lieutenant governor; but though there seemed, from
the general account, to be such a person, we could not find out exactly
who he was, or where he lived. The arriero said he lived "a little
lower down;" but at every house at which we called in our descent the
reply still was _mas abajo_, (yet lower.) At last we seemed to have
_treed him_, and even the man's wife was produced; but after a little
conversation it appeared that our friend was still _mas abajo_. I
was tired and hungry enough to wish he was—where he could not get any
lower, for we had depended upon our letter for a breakfast. We continued
our weary route, and at the next house (the best-looking we had seen)
encountered a white woman, rather shrewish-looking, indeed, but still
a woman, synonym everywhere for kindness. Ijurra civilly inquired if
we could get a few eggs. I think our appearance, particularly the guns
slung behind the saddles, bred mistrust, for we met with the invariable
lie, _no hay_, (haven't got any.) I couldn't be baffled in this way:
so, taking off my hat, and making my best bow, in my most insinuating
tones I said "that we had something to eat in our saddle-bags, and would
be very much obliged if La Señora would permit us to alight and take
our breakfast there." She softened down at once, and said that if we
had any tea she could give us some nice fresh milk to mix with it. We
had no tea, but declared, with many thanks, that the milk would be very
acceptable. Whereupon, it was _put on_ to boil; and, moreover, a dozen
fresh eggs, and boiled to perfection, were also produced. I enjoyed
the breakfast very much, and was pluming myself on the effect of my
fine address, when (alas for my vanity!) the lady, after looking at my
companion for some time, said to him, "Aren't you _un tal_ (a certain)
Ijurra?" He said yes. "Then we are old playmates," said she. "Don't you
recollect our play-ground, your old uncle's garden in Huanuco, and the
apples you used to steal out of it to give me? I'm _Mercedes Prado_."
Here was the solution to the enigma of our reception. Strange to say,
the name awoke pleasant recollections in me also, and set before me the
features of the gay and beautiful young girl whose quick repartee and
merry laugh added so much to the charm of Valparaiso society.
The house of our hostess was very like a capsized ship, with the
cut-water and upper part of the bows sawn off to make an entrance. It
had a regular _breast-hook_ made of saplings twisted together over the
door, a _kelson_ reaching from this to a very perfect _stern frame_,
and, had the ribs been curved instead of straight, the likeness would
have been exact. It was about fifty feet long, and made an airy and
commodious residence. I was surprised to find that we were in the upper
story of it, for we had entered from the ground without steps; but I
afterwards discovered that we had entered from an esplanade cut in the
side of the hill, levelled for the purpose of drying coca leaves, and
that the lower story was at the bottom of the hill, the entrance facing
the other way.
We went on our way rejoicing. The arriero had gone on ahead; and when we
arrived at a chacra, called _Atajo_, at half-past four, we found that
he had unloaded the mules. I was quite angry at his stopping so soon,
and ordered him to load up again; but finding that he went to work to do
it, I let him off, cautioning him against unloading without orders. The
means of living are getting very scarce. We could get nothing to eat,
and had to draw upon our _charqui_. The people of the hut seem contented
with a _chupe_ made of lard, with ullucas and young onions. Nights still
cool; Ther. at 7 p. m., 61°; elevation of "Atajo," three thousand nine
hundred and ten feet.
_July 25._—The road from this place leaves the banks of the stream and
ascends the hills on the right by a very steep and tedious ascent. The
rocks of the road are a mica slate, and at the top of the hills a dark
schist, white on the outside from exposure to the atmosphere. After
arriving at the summit, we turned N. E. by N., and passed the haciendas
called _Mesa pata_ (the top of the table) and _Casapi_, which seemed
abandoned. The road hence is a very rough descent, and a mere path
through the bushes; the earth white, like lime, with gypsum cropping out
occasionally. Near night we stopped at _Chihuangala_, the last hacienda
of the valley, and beyond which there is no mule-road. The arrieros
left us to seek pasturage. This is our last dealing with this gentry.
I was glad to dismount, for I was tired of riding; but in spite of the
abuse that is generally heaped upon the arrieros, I think I have had
little difficulty to complain of. They seem to be tolerably honest and
faithful, (when once on the road,) and, with judicious treatment, one
can get along with them very comfortably. It rained heavily all the
latter part of the night.
_July 26._—At this place we were to await the Indians from _Tingo
Maria_, (a village at the head of canoe navigation on the Huallaga,) to
carry our luggage on. Ijurra had written from Huanuco to the governor of
Tingo Maria, requesting him to send them to us at Chihuangala, sending
the letter by one of Castillo's company who was returning.
We had hard commons here, our charqui beginning to decay. No eggs; no
potatoes; nothing, in fact, but yuccas and bananas. There were turkeys,
chickens, and a pig running about the chacra; but no entreaty, nor any
reasonable offer of money, could induce the people to sell us one. I
offered the _patrona_ a dollar and a half for a half-grown turkey; but
she said she must wait till her husband came in from his work, so that
she might consult him. When he came, after long debate, it was decided
that they would sell me a chicken for breakfast to-morrow. I tried hard
to find out why they were so reluctant to sell, for they do not eat them
themselves; but did not succeed. I believe it to be something like the
miser-feeling of parting with property, the not being used to money,
and also a dislike to kill what they have reared and seen grow up under
their own eye.
Our patrona had six or seven children: one an infant, which, when she
puts to sleep, she enwraps closely in a woollen cloth, and swathes
tightly, over arms and all, with a broad thick band, so that it is
perfectly stiff, and looks like a log of wood, or a roll of cloth. I
asked why she did this, but could only get the reply that it was the
"custom here." The young women of the country have very good features,
and appear lively and good-tempered. Two daughters of the patrona
came in on a visit to-day. I suppose they are out at work (probably as
house servants) in some neighboring hacienda. They were dressed in red
calicoes, always open in the back, and with the invariable shawl; and
one of them had ruffles of cotton lace around the bottom of the sleeves,
which did not reach to the elbow. The girls were nearly as dark as
Indians, but I presume they had a mixture of white blood.
_July 28._—I walked, in company with Ijurra, about three miles to visit
a Señor Martins, at his hacienda of Cocheros. We found this gentleman
a clever and intelligent Portuguese, who had passed many years in this
country. He knew Smyth, and had helped him along on this route. His
wife is _Doña Juana del Rio_, a very lady-like person, in spite of her
common country costume. It was quite surprising to see a Limeña, and one
who had evidently lived in the first circles of that city, in this wild
country, and in this rude though comfortable house. The floor was earth,
and I saw no chairs. The lady sat in a hammock, and the men either on
the mud benches around the sides of the room, or on a coarse wooden one
alongside of a coarse table. Part of the house was curtained off into
small bed-rooms. There was evident plenty, and great comparative comfort
about the house; also, a fine lot of handsome, intelligent-looking
children. Señor Martins told me that this _Quebrada_ produced seven
hundred _cargas_ of coca yearly. A carga is two hundred and sixty
pounds. The value in Huanuco is generally three dollars the arroba. This
would make the value of the crop twenty-one thousand eight hundred and
forty dollars. The hire of the seven hundred mules required to carry
it to Huanuco is two thousand eight hundred dollars, which reduces the
value to about nineteen thousand dollars. There are not many haciendas,
but a number of small farms; the owners of which sell their coca on the
spot for two dollars the arroba. I asked Martins the reason why I had
seen several of the haciendas abandoned, particularly his own large one
of Casapi. He said there were two causes: one being a large ant that ate
the coca leaves, and which, when once established in a plantation, was
difficult to get rid of; and another was the scarcity of labor—that it
was barely to be had in the Quebrada; that he had six laborers on his
hacienda; and that he was at least two thousand dollars in advance to
them. The money, of course, had been advanced to them in the shape of
supplies, and I suppose these laborers are now as effectually slaves as
if they were so by law.
Nothing is sold from this valley but coca. Only sufficient coffee and
sugar cane are planted for the use of the inhabitants. Señor Martins
gave us some very good caçacha, or rum made from the cane, and some
tolerable pine-apples and plantains. A little cotton is cultivated, and
a coarse cloth is woven by hand from it. Every old woman goes about her
household avocations with a bunch of cotton in her hand, and a spindle
hanging below. I was surprised not to see any wild animals, though I
am told that there are deer, hares, tiger-cats, and animals of the mink
kind, that occasionally run off with the poultry. There are not so many
birds as I expected; those I have seen are generally of a gay and rich
plumage. Insect life is very abundant, and nearly all sting or bite.
The climate is very pleasant, though the sun is hot in mid-day. The
diseases, which occur rarely, are cutaneous affections, tabardillo, and
sometimes small-pox.
We met, at Cocheros, an English botanist, named _Nation_, upon whose
track we have been ever since leaving Lima. He was the gardener of
_Souza Ferreyra_, the Brazilian Chargé in Lima, and I believe was
collecting plants for him. Poor fellow! he had had a hard time of it;
he lost his mule not long after leaving Lima, and walked from Surco to
Morococha, where some kind person supplied him with another. He has also
had tertiana whenever he has gone into the Montaña. He was alone, and
spoke no Spanish, but he had combatted obstacles and difficulties with
a spirit and perseverance deserving all praise. I was sorry for his
mishaps, but could not help laughing at him a little when I observed
that the bats had nearly eaten his mule up. The poor beast was covered
with blood all over, and had nearly lost an eye from their bites. Mr.
Nation has sent a great many specimens of plants to Lima, and says that
the "flora" of this country is rich, and almost identical with that of
Brazil.
On our return from Cocheros we stopped at the house of a man who had,
the day before, promised to sell us a fowl; with the usual want of good
faith of these people, he now refused. Ijurra took the gun from my hand,
and, before I was aware what he was about to do, shot a turkey. The man
and his wife made a great outcry over it, and he was hurrying off, with
furious gestures and menacing language, to report the matter to his
_patron_, when a few kind words, the helping myself to a chew of coca
out of his _huallqui_, or leathern bag, in which it is carried, and the
offer of a dollar and a half, which before he had indignantly spurned,
changed his mood, and he smiled and expressed himself satisfied, now
that the thing was done and it could not be helped. I had been often
told by travellers that this was frequently necessary to get something
to eat, but had always set my mind resolutely against any such injustice
and oppression; and I expressed my opinion of the matter to Ijurra,
and requested that the like should not occur again. The elevation of
Chihuangala is three thousand four hundred and twenty-one feet above
the level of the sea.
_July 30._—At 10 a. m., when we had begun to despair of the coming
of our Indians, and Ijurra was about to start alone for Tingo Maria,
for the purpose of fetching them, they came shouting into the chacra,
thirteen in number. They were young, slight, but muscular-looking
fellows, all life and energy; and wanted to shoulder the trunks and
be off at once. We, however, gave them some charqui, and set them to
breakfast. At noon we started, and descended the valley of Chinchao in
a N. N. E. direction; the path steep and obstructed with bushes.
At about six miles from Chihuangala we arrived at the junction of
the Chinchao river with the Huallaga, in a heavy shower of rain,
with thunder and lightning. By leaving the Huallaga at Acomayo, below
Huanuco, crossing a range of mountains at the Cerro de Carpis, striking
the head of the valley of Chinchao, and descending it, we had cut off
a great bend of the river, and now struck it again at the junction
of the Chinchao. It is here some sixty yards wide, and the Chinchao
thirty, both much obstructed with shoals and banks of gravel. The peons
waded the Huallaga above the junction, and brought up a canoe from
the hacienda of _Chinchayvitoc_, a few hundred yards below, and on the
opposite side. We passed in the canoe, which the Indians managed very
well. It was a great treat, after the tedious walk we had had, to feel
the free, rapid motion of the boat as it glided down the stream. The
stream seemed to run at the rate of five or six miles the hour; but, by
keeping close in shore, two Indians could paddle the light canoe against
it very well.
Chinchayvitoc is a hacienda established by a Bolivian gentleman named
Villamil, for the collection of Peruvian bark. He brought some Bolivians
with him to search for the bark; but it is not to be found in this
country of good quality, and the scheme seems a failure. There is a
mayordomo and a family of Indians living at the hacienda, but nothing
is doing. Our peons cooked our dinner of cheese and rice, and made us
a good cup of coffee. These are lively, good-tempered fellows, and,
properly treated, make good and serviceable travelling companions.
Let them but be faithfully paid, a kind word now and then spoken to
them, and their cargoes rather under than over the regular weight,
(eighty-seven and a half pounds,) and they will serve faithfully and
honestly, and go singing and chattering through the woods like so many
monkeys. Above all, let them stop when they wish, and don't attempt to
hurry them.
We had Mr. Nation in company. He had collected some valuable plants,
and showed me one which he said was a present for an Emperor, and that
its very name would make my journal famous. I of course did not ask it
of him; but was very glad to be able to repay to him, in some slight
measure, the many kindnesses I have received from his countrymen,
by giving him a part of my bed-clothes, and making him comfortable
for the night, which he seemed to be much in need of, for he was wet
and sick; and to sleep on the ground in that condition must be very
dangerous. There is much moisture in the atmosphere; and I find it
almost impossible to keep the guns in serviceable order.
We met at this place some Indians carrying tobacco from _Tocache_ and
_Saposoa_ (towns of the Huallaga) to Huanuco. Enterprising men have
frequently tried to establish a trade along this river, carrying down
cotton goods, knives, hatchets, beads, &c., and getting return-cargoes
of tobacco, rice, straw hats, rare birds, and animals; but the
difficulties of the route seem to have baffled enterprise. About two and
a half years ago _Vicente Cevallos_ made a large venture. He carried
down thirty-five trunks or packages of goods, and the people of the
river still talk of his articles of luxury; but in passing one of the
_malos pasos_, or rapids of the river, his boat capsized, and he lost
everything.
The Indians here had blue limestone, which they were burning to mix with
their coca.
_July 31._—I bathed in the river before starting. This is wrong in so
humid an atmosphere. I became chilled, and did not get over it for some
hours. A native traveller in these parts will not even wash his face
and hands before the sun is well up. Soon after starting we crossed a
small stream, and ascended a hill that overlooks the falls of _Cayumba_,
beyond which canoes cannot ascend. I did not see the falls, but am told
that there is no cascade of height, but rather a considerably inclined
plain, much obstructed by drift. Smyth says: "From hence," (the cave of
Cayumba, below the falls,) "we had a very picturesque view of both the
Huallaga and Cayumba—the former rushing between two high perpendicular
rocks, and the latter rolling down a steep ravine. They unite with great
violence at a point where there is a small island covered with trees,
and roll past the cave in an impetuous torrent."
The ascent of the hill was very tedious, and I should complain of the
fatigue but for shame's sake; for there were Indians along, young and
rather small men, who were carrying a burden of nearly one hundred
pounds on their back. Their manner of carrying cargoes is to have a
sort of cotton satchel, of open work, with a broad stout strap to it.
The end of the trunk or package, which is placed on end, is put into
the bag, and the Indian, sitting down with his back to it, passes the
strap over his forehead, and then, with a lift from another, rises to
his feet, and, bending forward, brings the weight upon the muscles of
his neck and back. A bit of blanket, or old cotton cloth, protects the
skin of the back from chafe. The traveller in these parts should be as
lightly clad and carry as little weight as possible, for the path is
very steep and muddy. I had been thoughtless enough to wear my heavy
Sierra clothes, and to load myself with a gun of a greater weight, I
believe, than a standard musket—and so had occasion to envy Ijurra his
light rig of nankeen trousers and cotton shirt, long but light staff,
and twilled cotton "Jeffersons."
The descent of this hill, which is nearly as tedious as the ascent,
brought us to the banks of the river opposite the mal-paso of _Palma_.
This is the first rapid I have seen, and it looked formidable enough.
The river, obstructed in its rapid course, breaks into waves, which
dash with thundering violence against the rocks, and rush between them
in sluices of dazzling velocity. Cargoes must always be landed at this
place, and carried around. The canoe, thus lightened, under skilful
and practical management, may shoot the rapid; but this should not
be attempted where it can be avoided. By prudence, these malos pasos
(the dread of travellers) are stripped of all danger; but the Indians
sometimes get drunk and insist upon the attempt; and thus these places
have become the graves of many. Since my return home I have a letter
from Castillo, the young man I met in Huanuco, enclosing others which
were sent to him at Tarapota from Lima to be forwarded to me. He begged
me to excuse the condition in which I should receive these letters, for
they had been shipwrecked in their transit. "Three persons," said he,
"were drowned, but the letters _fortunately_ escaped."
Nearly all the malos pasos are at the mouth of a tributary. These, in
the floods, bring down quantities of drift, with heavy boulders, which,
thrown crosswise into the stream, lodge and form the obstructions.
Little labor would be required to clear away the rocks, and make the
river passable for canoes at least, if not for light-draught steamboats.
The trees of the forest are large, tall, and without branches for a
great distance up. Ijurra pointed out one to me, of smooth bark, about
four feet diameter near the ground, and which ran up sixty or seventy
feet without a branch. He said that it was so hard that it resisted all
attacks of the axe; and, to get it down, it was necessary to remove the
earth and set fire to the roots; and that, suffered to lie in the water
for a long time, it turned to stone of so hard a character, that, like
flint, it would strike fire from steel. Unfortunately for the accuracy
of the statement, we next day saw gigantic trees of this species
that had been felled with an axe. The wood is, however, very hard
and heavy—too much so for any practical use here. The tree is called
_capirona_. It has a smooth bark, which it is continually changing. The
old bark is a very pretty light-red; the new, a pea-green.
At half-past 4 p. m., we arrived at _the Cave_, a place where a huge
rock, projecting from the hill-side, made a shelter which would cover
and protect from dew or rain about a dozen persons. The Indian who
carried my bag of bedding wished to make my bed there; but I decided
that it was too damp, and made him spread it out on the shingle by the
river brink. The largest part of the cargo had not arrived, and I feared
that we were without drink or cigars, which would have been a great
deprivation to us after the fatigue of the day. The rice and cheese were
on hand; and, to our great delight, Ijurra found in his saddle-bags a
bottle of sherry-brandy that Mr. Jump had insisted upon our taking from
Cerro Pasco, and which I had forgotten. A tin-pan of hot boiled rice
flavored with cheese, a teacup of the brandy, and half a dozen paper
cigars, made us very comfortable; and, lulled by the rustling of the
leaves and the roar of the river, we slept in spite of the ants and
other insects that left the mark of their bites upon our carcasses.
I saw here, for the first time, the _luciernago_, or fire-fly of this
country. It is, unlike ours, a species of beetle, carrying two white
lights in its eyes, (or, rather, in the places where the eyes of insects
generally are,) and a red light between the scales of the belly—so that
it reminded me something of the ocean steamers. It has the power of
softening the light of the eyes until it becomes very faint; but upon
irritating it, by passing the finger over the eyes, the light becomes
very bright and sparkling. They are sometimes carried to Lima, (enclosed
in an apartment cut into a sugar-cane,) where the ladies, at balls or
theatres, put them in their hair for ornament.
_August 1._—We started, without breakfast, at a quarter to seven,
thinking that we were near Tingo Maria. But it was ten miles distant,
and I was weary enough ere we arrived. My principal source of annoyance
was the having inadvertedly asked how far we were off from our
destination. I would advise no traveller to do this; he is sure to be
disappointed; and when he is told (as he will certainly be) that he is
near, the miles appear doubly long. The Indians take no account of time
or distance. They stop when they get tired, and arrive when God pleases.
They live on plantains—roasted, boiled, and fried; and in the way of
food, a yucca is their greatest good. Talking with a young Indian,
who had a light load, and kept up with me very well, I was struck with
the comparative value of things. A Londoner, who has been absent for
some time from his favorite city, and subjected to some privations on
that account, could not have spoken of the elegances and comforts of
London with more enthusiasm than my companion spoke of _Pueblo Viejo_,
a settlement of half a dozen Indians, which we were approaching. "There
are plantains," said he; "there are yuccas; there is everything"—(_Hay
platanos, hay yuccas, hay todo_)—and I really expected to be surprised
and pleased when I arrived at Pueblo Viejo. The town, in fact, consisted
of a single hut, with a plantain grove, a small patch of yuccas, and
another of sugar-cane. In several places near by, people were felling
the trees and forming chacras. The road lay sometimes across and
sometimes along these huge trees; and I envied the bare feet and firm
step of my companion, feeling that my tired legs and muddy boots might,
at any moment, play me a slippery trick, and cost me a broken leg or
sprained ankle.
At eleven we arrived at _Juana del Rio_, a settlement of five or six
houses, on the right bank of the river, named after the lady of Señor
Martins, whom we met at Cocheros. The houses were all shut up, and
nobody seemed to be at home. Here we crossed the river, (one hundred
yards broad, smooth, and deep,) and walked down the left bank about half
a mile to the pueblo of San Antonio del Tingo Maria. _Tingo_ is the
Indian term for the junction of two rivers, the Monzon emptying into
the Huallaga just above this. The governor, an intelligent and modest
young man, a former friend of Ijurra, welcomed us cordially and gave us
a capital breakfast of chicken broth.