Across Unknown South America

CHAPTER XXVI

Across the Andes—The End of the Trans-continental Journey

I was fortunate in obtaining some excellent Peruvian muleteers to accompany me on the expedition over the Andes. The trip might have been a rough one for the ordinary traveller, but for me it was a real holiday excursion, after the horrible time I had experienced in Brazil. This notwithstanding the disagreeable weather I encountered during the fourteen days' rough riding which I employed in reaching the Pacific Ocean.

I started at once with my pack animals on the trail which has been cut by the Peruvian Government over the mountains. Rain came down in torrents. Most of the country was swampy, the mules sinking chest-deep in mud. The travelling was not exactly what you would call pleasant. Your legs dangled all the time in water and slush. As that trail was used by caravans, the mules had cut regular transverse grooves in the ground all along, in which successively they all placed their hoofs. Each groove was filled with slushy water, and was separated from the next by a mud wall from one to three feet high. The mules were constantly stumbling and falling. After you had travelled a short distance you were in a filthy condition, the torrential rain washing down the splashes of mud and spreading them all over you. After leaving Yessup we crossed first the Sinchhuaqui river, then the Aguachini. We began to ascend two kilometres after we had left Yessup, and marched steadily the entire day among gigantic aguaso trees and wonderful ferns of great height, until we reached the Miriatiriami tambo, 27 kil. from Yessup.

On January 19th we followed the River Azupizu along a narrow trail from 300 to 400 ft. above the level of the river, with an almost vertical drop by the side of us. Huge palms and ferns of indescribable beauty were to be seen all along, while waterfalls and streamlets constantly crossed the trail.

We encountered that day deep mud all the way, the mules sinking up to their bellies in the slush. The trail along the mountain side was cut in the soft earth, and actually formed a deep groove only about two feet wide, the mud and slush being held by the solid transverse barriers which succeeded one another at short intervals.

Cuzco.

Llamas in foreground.

At Piriatingalini and Puchalini we found light cable suspension bridges, very shaky, which swung to and fro as you rode over them. Most of them were not more than four feet wide and had no parapet at all. I cannot say that I felt particularly happy when my mule—sure-footed, I grant—took me across, the bridge swinging, quivering, and squeaking with our weight on it, especially when we were in the middle. The rivers were extremely picturesque, with high mountains on either side, among which they wound their way in a snake-like fashion over a rocky bed, forming a series of cascades. We went that day 25 kil., and arrived at the tambo of Azupizu, which was in charge of a deserter from the French navy. He was an extraordinary character. He had forgotten French, and had neither learnt Spanish nor the local language of the Campas Indians.

A tribe of those Indians was to be found near there—very handsome people, the men solidly built and muscular, with intelligent but brutal faces, with the yellowish-brown skin and slanting eyes of the Malay races. The eyes showed a great discoloration in the upper part of the iris. They possessed straight hair, slightly inclined to curl at the end. The nose was flattened at the root. They wore a few ornaments of feathers on the head. Their clothing consisted of a loose gown not unlike a Roman toga. The women were good-looking when very young.

The Campas claimed to be the direct descendants of the Incas. There is no doubt that the Campas were practically the same tribe as the Antis, once a most powerful tribe which inhabited an extensive territory to the north and east of Cuzco. In fact, the eastern portion of the Inca country was once called Anti-Suya. The Campas, or Antis, were formerly ferocious. They are now quite tame, but still retain their cruel countenances, resembling closely those of Polynesians and Malays.

We left that place on January 20th in drenching rain. The river was much swollen, and formed a whirlpool of great magnitude just over some bad rapids. We crossed from mountain-side to mountain-side, some 400 ft. above the stream, in a sling car running along a wire rope. The car consisted of two planks suspended on four pieces of telegraph wire. As the sling had been badly constructed it did not run smoothly along the cable. I had an unpleasant experience—everybody had who used that conveyance—as I was going across from one side to the other of the stream, a distance of some 200 metres or more. The ropes which were used for pulling the car along got badly entangled when I had reached the middle of the passage. The Indians and the Frenchman pulled with violent jerks in order to disentangle them, and caused the car to swing and bump to such an extent that it was all I could do to hold on and not be flung out of it. Having been swung to and fro for the best part of an hour on that primitive arrangement, I was able to proceed on the other side of the stream. Fortunately we had taken the precaution of making the animals cross over the river the previous evening, before it was in flood, or else we should have been held up there for several days. Leaving the Azupizu river, we followed the river Kintoliani, which joined the Azupizu and formed with it a most formidable stream.

A Famous Inca Wall, Cuzco.

The various rocks fit so perfectly that no mortar was used to keep them in place.

The trail was at a great height, some 600 ft. above the water. In two or three places where it had been cut into the rock it was most dangerous, as the rocks were slippery with the wet, so that the mules had great difficulty in keeping their feet. The vegetation was wonderful, with trees of enormous height and beautiful giant palms. Waterfalls over rocky walls were plentiful, while the effects of clouds were marvellous among those mountains—although my enthusiasm was damped a good deal that day by the torrential rain, which came down in bucketfuls upon us, and filtered through even my heavy waterproof coat.

The zigzag ascent was extremely heavy, the first part being over rocky ground, while the rest of that day's journey was along a swampy trail on which the mules stumbled and fell many times. One of my men had a narrow escape from being precipitated down the chasm. So bad, indeed, was the trail that we only went 15 kil., halting at the tambo of Pampas S. Nicolas.

On January 21st we made a long and tedious march, rising all the time among slippery rocks along precipices, or sinking in swampy mud on the narrow trail. Picturesque waterfalls of great height were visible in volcanic vents, some square, others crescent-shaped, on the face of the mountain. The torrents, swollen by the heavy rains, were difficult to cross, my mules on several occasions being nearly swept away by the foaming current. We sank in deep red slush and in deep holes filled with water, but continued all the time to ascend a gentle but continuous incline. We travelled that day from six o'clock in the morning until six o'clock in the evening, rain pouring down upon us all the time. We were simply smothered in mud from head to foot.

We found a large tambo at Camp 93, with a telephone and telegraph station. At those tambos it was always possible to obtain rice, chickens and eggs at reasonable prices, fixed by the Government. In many of the tambos were also rough wooden bedsteads, with a more or less comfortable mattress. I generally preferred to use my own camp-bed. As there were never more than one or two rooms in the tambo, you had to sleep in the same room with other people, unless you preferred to sleep outside, as I did.

For the privilege of sleeping at any tambo, in or out of doors, one paid the small sum of one shilling. A dinner or lunch seldom cost more than two shillings, and breakfast eightpence to one shilling. The food for the animals could be reckoned at one shilling for each mule, the price being higher at the Yessup end of the journey and getting gradually lower as one got nearer the capital.

Of course one could not call travelling over the Andes in any way luxurious. The tablecloths at the tambos showed all round the table the marks of the dirty lips of previous travellers, and plentiful stains of soup, coffee and tea. The illumination consisted usually of a candle placed in the mouth of a bottle, which was used as a candlestick.

I saw more Campas Indians there. They were singing songs strongly resembling Malay melodies, to the accompaniment of Spanish guitars. Other songs influenced by Spanish airs, but still delivered in a typically Malay fashion, were also given that evening. They interested me greatly.

Inca Three-Walled Fortress of Sacsayhuaman, Cuzco.

On January 22nd we left Camp 93. I was struck everywhere at those tambos by the great honesty of the Peruvians. I was often touched by the extreme kindness of the people and their considerate manner—although perhaps it was more particularly striking to me after my experience of the brutal behaviour of the lower-class Brazilians. The gentle way of speaking, the more harmonious language—Spanish instead of Portuguese—and the charming civility of the people, made travelling, even under those unpleasant circumstances, quite agreeable.

It was cold, especially at night. Nearly all my instruments had been badly damaged in our many accidents in Brazil, and I was unable to replace them either in ParÁ or Manaos. Owing, therefore, to the lack of self-registering thermometers, I could not keep an accurate daily record of the maximum and minimum temperatures. After leaving Camp 93, we went over a really fearful trail, my mules being all the time chest-deep in mud. It was extremely hard work for the animals to get along. As is well known to any traveller, all animals of a caravan when on a narrow path step in the footprints of their predecessors, so that on that trail they had sunk a long series of deep holes in the soft clay, which were constantly being filled by water sliding from the mountain-side. In that particular part the mud had highly caustic qualities, which burnt the skin and caused irritation each time you were splashed. The muleteers who were walking had their feet badly burnt by it, one man suffering agony from his blistered feet.

Magnificent mountain scenery covered with luxuriant forest surrounded us as the trail wound its way along the high point on the top of the mountain range. We went only 21 kil. that day from Pampas, having occupied seven hours to cover the distance, owing to the difficulties of the march.

In the afternoon we were enveloped in dense fog which lasted the whole night, the cold being quite severe, and the more perceptible because of the humidity in the air. The trail here described a wide detour, which could have easily been avoided had another trail that went direct to New Bermudez been followed at the bottom of the valley. The journey by that lower trail could be accomplished in one day and a half. The elevation by hypsometrical apparatus of this camp (N.71) was 5,663 ft.

On January 23rd we descended rapidly through beautiful forest from Camp 71, where we had halted for the night, to a large tambo called EneÑas, in charge of an Italian. The place was situated in a beautiful valley intersected by a streamlet saturated with lime. It looked exactly like milk, and hurt your gums considerably when you drank it. The excellent mule I was riding had unfortunately hurt one of its legs while we were crossing a swollen torrent, where the mule and myself were nearly swept away in the foaming current. Riding on the lame animal, which was all the time stumbling and falling down on its knees, was unpleasant. In the narrow trail it was not possible to unload another animal and change the saddle, and it was out of the question for me to walk.

The Inca Temple of the Sun, with Spanish Superstructure.

Inca Doorway, Cuzco.

I arrived at the tambo with a ravenous appetite, but unfortunately nobody had telephoned from the previous tambo that I was coming, so that it was impossible to get lunch, and I had to wait two or three hours before I could get anything to eat at all. The men in charge of the various tambos were rather negligent in telephoning and making arrangements with the next tambo, as the kind of travellers they had on that trail was not of the highest type and could not always be relied upon for payment. The people in charge of the tambos were poor devils, half abrutis, to use a most appropriate French expression, by the life they had to lead in that forlorn country.

On January 24th we continued our journey over horrible deep mud-holes, which made the trail extremely dangerous. On that particular day we were travelling over sticky soil, so that when the mules trod in the deep holes they stuck with their hoofs and fell over, immediately struggling wildly to free themselves. One of my men was nearly thrown down a precipice that day, and all of us, as well as all the pack animals, had many unpleasant falls during that march. Swampy places like that were encountered for hundreds of metres at a time. In one place that day we had two kilometres of continuous swampy mud. In the afternoon I had a nasty fall, the mule rolling right on the top of me and nearly breaking my right leg. The animal in falling had sunk its head in the sticky mud, and was struggling madly to release itself. The animals were then marching chest-deep in mud. In my helpless condition I tried to get off when the animal fell, but sank up to my waist and stuck fast with my legs in the mud. When the mule rolled over, it knocked me down on the edge of the precipice, my leg remaining caught under the animal. Had not one of my muleteers been by my side at the moment and rushed to my rescue, I should have fared badly indeed.

We had a slippery descent after Tambo 33, where we had a lunch composed of putrid tinned salmon and "invisible" eggs—the latter dish being a speciality of that place. The tambo man insisted that I had eaten six eggs, whereas I had not even seen them except on the bill. He told me that I was wrong, showing me a napkin on which two yellow streaks were to be seen—though not left there by me, but by the lips of some traveller who had passed perhaps a month before.

We made a long march that day, having left at seven o'clock in the morning, and arriving at our halting-place at four o'clock in the afternoon.

The next day, January 25th, we had a trying march. Several land-slides had taken place, bringing down great patches of forest. Numberless trees had fallen over, making it difficult for the animals to be taken across. In one place all of them had to be unloaded, and they sank so deeply in the slush and soft earth that we had three or four hours' extremely hard work to cover a distance of about 50 m. The animals became so scared that they would not go on at all. The men who pushed and led them along that dangerous passage with a deep precipice on one side were in constant danger.

The rain, which had been torrential during the night, continued during the entire day, swelling the streams and making them most difficult to cross. In one stream my mule and I were swept away altogether. I had water right up to my waist while riding, and the mule showed only its head above the water. We were thrown with great force against some rocks, where, fortunately, my muleteers came to our help and got us out again.

Inca Steps carved in a Dome of Rock, Cuzco.

Fortress noticeable in the distance.

The trail—about half a metre wide—wound its way up to a great height above the foaming river. There were beautiful ferns of immense height, some of which had finely ribbed, gigantic leaves. Graceful yellow flowers, or sometimes beautiful red ones, were to be seen on tall trees with white, clean stems. We passed a coffee plantation, owned by English people, near a charming settlement of whitewashed houses on the opposite side of the river. When we came to cross the Rio Las Palmas—heavily swollen—we were once more nearly swept away in riding across with water up to our chests. The baggage naturally suffered a good deal in those constant immersions. This was, unfortunately, the wrong season for crossing the Andes; but I could not help that, as I was anxious to get through, and could not wait for the fine weather to come.

Farther on we crossed the river Paucartambo near the Pueblo Pardo. We next followed the Rio Chanchamayo, which afterwards became the Rio Perene, along which extensive English farms had been established. We were now getting near to civilization. I felt that my work was entirely finished, as the country hereabouts was well known.

We came to the Colorado river, a tributary of the Chanchamayo, and passed S. Luiz de Shuaro, a charming little village of whitewashed houses. The scenery was beautiful on nearing La Merced. The river basin showed luxuriant grassy slopes and immense sugar plantations.

La Merced was situated on the left bank of the Rio Chanchamayo, formed by the meeting of the Rio Tulumayo and the Rio Tarma, which joined near the village of S. Ramon. It had two modest hotels and various commercial houses. In a way I was sorry to get to a town again, because in those places you had all the trumpery illusion of civilization without any of its real advantages. One met, however, with the greatest civility from everybody, and, indeed, with the greatest honesty. So that travelling in those regions was quite a pleasure.

To my amazement that evening a burly Italian came into the hotel. Who was he?—Garibaldi's grandson, the son of General Canzio and Garibaldi's daughter. He was interested in some mines in the district, and had lived there for some years trying to make a fortune.

What impressed one most in the settlements on the Andes were the great neatness and cleanliness of all the buildings, and the charming manners of all the people one met. Everybody, without exception, saluted you politely as you approached; everybody was anxious to be of assistance or offer you hospitality. There was, nevertheless, nothing of great interest in those high-placed villages.

On January 26th I went on in a drenching rain, having changed my animals at that place for another lot of excellent mules. The hire of animals was somewhat high, but after the prices one had to pay in Brazil, everything seemed, by comparison, dirt-cheap in Peru. I also said good-bye to the Peruvians who had accompanied me so far, and employed Indians to take charge of my animals.

From La Merced there was a trail from one to three metres wide, cut out in the solid rock and skirting all along the foaming river, which flowed in the opposite direction from that in which we were travelling. In several places narrow tunnels had been excavated in the rock, through which the trail proceeded. These tunnels were dangerous when you encountered caravans of pack animals coming through from the opposite direction. The animals often got jammed in the middle of the tunnel, tearing their loads to pieces in their attempts to disentangle themselves. Once I got jammed myself, and came out minus a patch of skin several inches long from my left shin and knee.

Between La Merced and S. Ramon, a distance of some 10 kil., one had to cross the shaky suspension bridges of La Herreria and S. Ramon. The oscillations of those bridges were so great that it was always a marvel to me that the animals and riders were not precipitated into the river below. The planks of the bridges were in many places so rotten that it was not uncommon for the animals to put their legs right through them. Only one animal at a time could go across, as the bridges were not strong enough to support more.

Farther on we arrived at two more bridges—the Puntayacu and the Rio Seco, one a suspension bridge, the other built of masonry. One met hundreds of Indians upon the trail, in costumes resembling those of the Calabrese of Italy. The men wore heavy woollen hand-knitted stockings up to their knees, or else over their trousers, white leggings left open behind as far down as the knee. Round felt hats were worn by the women, who were garbed in bright blue or red petticoats, very full and much pleated, but quite short. Red was the favourite colour for the shawl which they threw round the body and over the shoulders.

When we proceeded the next morning the heat in the low valley was stifling. The scenery continued to be beautiful, with magnificent waterfalls and torrents flowing down at a steep angle among rocks.

I stopped for the night at the charming little hotel of Huacapistana, situated at a lower level than the road in a most picturesque narrow valley, on the right bank of the Tarma River. The distance between La Merced and Huacapistana was about 35 kil.

Between Huacapistana and Tarma the track was excellent. We went through the Carpapata tunnel, 184 m. long—very dark and narrow, and extremely dangerous if you happened to meet pack animals in the middle. The scenery was enchanting and the vegetation wonderful until, 20 kil. farther, I entered, by a magnificent avenue of eucalyptus trees, the most picturesque town of the higher Andes, Tarma. The narrow, neat streets were paved with cobble-stones. All the houses were painted white, and had red-tiled roofs. The streets swarmed with quaintly attired Indians and tidily dressed Peruvians. There were many Italians and Spaniards in Tarma. Two or three hotels existed here—a capital one, actually lighted by electric light, being kept by a most honest Italian. The elevation of Tarma, taken by the hypsometrical apparatus, was 10,034 ft.

The "Round Table" of the Incas.

Entrance to Inca Subterranean Passages.

I left Tarma on January 29th, following a well-cultivated valley, fairly thickly inhabited. We were travelling over a good mule-track, swarming with Indians, donkeys, mules, and horses. The mud houses and land on either side were enclosed by hedges of cacti, or by walls. We were between barren mountains of a brownish colour, against which the quaint, brightly-coloured costumes of the many people on the road were thrown out in vivid contrast. Most of the houses were constructed of large mud bricks, sun-dried. The crops seemed to consist chiefly of Indian corn. As we went farther, among dark brown rocks and limestone, we came to grottoes and rock habitations. At some remote period there must have been a great upheaval in that country—at least, judging by the sedimentary foliated rock, the strata of which were from one to three feet thick, and which had originally been deposited horizontally by water. These accumulations or sediments now stood up at an angle of 45°. We were now in a region where llamas were plentiful—most delightful animals, with their pointed ears pricked up, their luxuriant coats, and stumpy curled tails.

We came to a steep ascent over a high pass, where the cold wind was fierce. On reaching the pass I found myself on a grassy plateau in which were to be seen two circles of stones by the side of each other.

The partition of the waters flowing into the River Mantaro and the River Tarma took place at the point called Ricran, not far from the high pass we had crossed. It was always advisable when taking the journey between Tarma and Oroya to start early in the morning, so as to be on that pass before noon. In the afternoon the wind was intensely cold and frequently accompanied by violent storms of hail and rain.

I arrived in the evening at Oroya, the distance from Tarma being 30 kil. 236 m. The journey between the two places could be accomplished on a good mule in five or six hours. Oroya was an important point for me, as it was there that I saw the first railway since leaving Araguary in Brazil nearly a year before.

Oroya is perhaps one of the highest railway stations in the world, its accurate elevation by boiling-point thermometers being 12,156 ft.

The town, like all termini of railway lines, was not an attractive place. There were two or three hotels, all extremely bad. One began to feel the effects of civilization in the dishonesty of the people.

Early the next morning, thanks to arrangements made by Mr. D. T. Lee, I was allowed to take the journey to Lima in a "gravity car," in the company of the engineer, Mr. Beverley R. Mayer, instead of by the usual train, which ran twice a week. Of course it was only possible to go by "gravity car" from the highest point of the railway, which is not at Oroya, but at the tunnel of Galera, 5,356 m. (17,572 ft.) above the sea-level as measured by the railway surveyors.

Inca Place of Amusement: a Toboggan Slide of Rock.

An Inca Grave, Bolivia.

The scenery was magnificent on that railway. Having gone through the Galera tunnel, Mr. Mayer and I got on the small "gravity car," keeping all the time just in front of the train. It was quite an exciting journey, the incline being so great that we soon acquired a vertiginous speed—in fact, too much, because our brakes would not act any more. With the snow and rain the rails had become so slippery that we went sliding down at the most alarming pace. Nor did I feel particularly happy at having the train only a few hundred metres behind us. Whenever we got to a station, we had to get off quickly and get our car off the rails to give room to the incoming train. The cold was intense.

The geological formation of the Andes in that particular region was remarkable, and more remarkable still was the British engineering triumph of constructing a railway from the sea to so high an elevation. In one or two places there were iron bridges of great height and ingenious construction. You felt a curious sensation as you flew over those bridges on the tiny car, and you saw between the rails the chasm underneath you; nor did you feel extraordinarily comfortable when, hundreds of feet down, down below, at the bottom of one chasm, you saw a railway engine which had leapt the rails and lay upside down in the middle of a foaming torrent.

Naturally, in building a mountain railway of that type, a great many curves and zigzags were necessary, many of those curves taking place inside tunnels. Along the railway rivers have been switched off through tunnels within the mountain, and produced picturesque cascades where they came out again.

The geological surprises were continual. Next to mountains with perfectly horizontal strata you saw other mountains with strata in a vertical position, especially in the limestone formation. Farther down immense superposed terraces were to be noticed upon the mountain side, evidently made by the ancient dwellers of that country for the cultivation of their inhospitable land.

This interested me greatly. I had seen among the Igorrotes or head-hunters of the island of Luzon, in the Philippine Archipelago, that same method of irrigation, by collecting the water from a high point on the mountain side in order to irrigate consecutively the series of terraces. Not only was I struck by the fact of finding so unusual a method of cultivation at two points of the globe so far apart, but I was even more impressed by the wonderful resemblance in type between the local natives and the inhabitants of the northern island of the Philippines. Undoubtedly these people came from the same stock.

Where we stopped at the different stations there was always something interesting to observe—now the hundreds of llamas which had conveyed goods to the railway; at one place the numberless sacks of ore waiting to be taken to the coast; at another the tall active chimneys of the smelters, which suggested industry on a large scale. I took a number of photographs under difficulties on that journey down the Andes.

At 7.30 p.m. on January 30th, 1912, I arrived safely at Lima, a distance of 222 kil. from Oroya. The total distance from Iquitos to Lima over the Andes was 2,079 kil., which distance I had performed in the record time of one month, the time generally occupied by the usual travellers being from fifty to seventy days.

Inca Remains near Cuzco.

From Lima I proceeded early the next morning to Callao, the port for Lima, a few kilometres farther, where at La Punta I touched the Pacific Ocean, thus ending my trans-continental journey from Rio de Janeiro, with its zigzags and deviations, 22,000 kil. in length, or 13,750 miles.

I was already in better health when I reached Lima. The violent changes of climate from the hot valley of the Amazon to the snows of the Andes, and from there to the sea-coast, had had a beneficial effect upon me. The attack of beri-beri from which I had been suffering was gradually passing away, my right foot, by the time I reached Lima, having slowly got back almost to its normal size, although my toes were still atrophied. It is well known that there is no better cure for beri-beri than sea air.

Clyx.com