JOURNEY FROM PUNO TO CRUCERO, THE CAPITAL OF CARAVAYA.

On April 7th we left Puno on the road to the chinchona forests of Caravaya. There are three modes of travelling in Peru: one by purchasing all the required mules and employing servants; the second, by hiring an arriero, or muleteer, who supplies the mules at so much for the journey; and the third, by using the wretched animals which are provided at the post-houses, and changing them at each stage, but this can only be done on the main roads. The latter way, though the least comfortable, is by far the most economical, and I therefore determined to adopt it, yet I should probably have hesitated had I known the trouble it would entail. I bought a fine mule for a hundred dollars, with the gentle paso llano, the easiest pace imaginable, for myself, and sent to the post-house at Puno for beasts for Mr. Weir, the gardener who accompanied me, and for the baggage. Four vicious-looking brutes accordingly made their appearance, and we started; but no sooner had we reached the plain at the top of the zigzag path leading out of Puno to the north, than they all ran away in different directions, kicking violently. After hours of this kind of annoyance I at last got one of the brutes into a corner of a stone-fenced field, but, just as I was about to catch him, he gave a kick, jumped over the wall, and went off again. It ended in our having to drag the mules by their lassos until our arms were nearly torn out of the sockets; and thus we ignominiously entered the village of Paucar-colla late in the evening, a distance of only twelve miles from Puno. As for the scenery, or the nature of the country, between Puno and Paucar-colla, I can remember nothing but vicious mules with their hind legs kicking up in the air.

Paucar-colla is built on an eminence, surrounded by broad grassy plains, which slope down to the shores of the lake of Titicaca. It consists of a few streets of mud-built, red-tiled huts, ranged round a large plaza, with a church in a dilapidated state, also of mud. At this place I saw the last of the Aymara Indians, or at least of their women, who can always be distinguished by their dress, which differs from that worn by the Inca or Quichua Indians. The Aymara women wear an uncu, or garment brought together over each shoulder, and secured in the mode of the classic Greeks, with two topus, or large pins, generally in the shape of spoons. The head-dress is a curiously-shaped, four-cornered red cap, the sides curving outwards and stiff, with black flaps suspended from it, sometimes hanging down, and at others thrown up over the top. The Quichua dress, used by the women from here as far as Cuzco, is quite different: they have a full woollen skirt, reaching down half-way between the knee and ankle; a bright-coloured lliclla, or mantle, over the shoulders, secured across the bosom by a single topu; and as a head-dress the broad-brimmed black velvet montero, with red and blue ribbons.

I left Paucar-colla early next morning, and passed by several fields of quinoa (Chenopodium quinoa), the harvest of which was just beginning. The stalks are cut and tied up in heaps, and then the grain is beaten out with sticks. It is used by the Indians in their universal dish, the chupe, and in various other ways; but it is an insipid and not very nutritious grain. Just beyond the village there is a stream called the Illpa, which, in the dry season, scarcely wets the mules' hoofs; but at this time of year it was swollen into a broad river, and it was necessary to cross it on reed balsas, with the luggage, while the mules swam. A very large troop of mules, laden with aguardiente, was passing over at the same time—a long and tedious business. There are many streams crossing these roads, which are swollen during the rainy season, and very serious delays are thus caused for want of a few bridges. From the Illpa to Caracoto there is a broad plain extending to the shores of the lake, with the town or village of Hatun-colla on one of the last spurs of the cordillera to the west.[281] This wide expanse, in the rainy season, is swampy and half submerged. It was covered with flocks and herds, with huts and out-buildings scattered over it, and surrounded by mud walls. Here and there we passed pretty little cow-girls and shepherdesses, now dressed in the Quichua, not the Aymara, costume. Some of these little maidens, as they stood by the wayside spinning wool, had such pretty faces, with the rosy colour showing through their soft, brown skins, and their figures were so graceful and dignified, that they strongly reminded me of the pictures of young Inca princesses in the churches of Santa Anna, and of the Jesuits, at Cuzco:—

"La vi tan fermosa
Que apenas creyera
Que fuese vaquera
De la Finojosa."

Potatoes, quinoa, and barley were cultivated in the skirts of the hills bordering on the plain.

The village of Caracoto is at the extreme end of a long rocky spur, running out across the plain; a street of neat mud huts, with a plaza and dilapidated church. At the post-house a child had died, which was set out on a table with candles burning before it, and the friends of the postmaster were holding a wake, singing, fiddling, and drinking. Between Caracoto and the next village of Juliaca there is another swampy plain: most of the road was under water, and we encountered a heavy hail-storm. The lights and shades on the cordilleras and nearer hills, the heavy black masses of cloud in one part of the heavens, and the sun's rays breaking through in the other, were very fine. Juliaca is a small town built under a spur of the mountains, with a handsome stone church. It was Easter-Sunday, and I was invited to meet all the principal families at dinner at the house of the cura. Several Indian alcaldes were in attendance; consequential old fellows in full dress, consisting of broad-brimmed black felt hats, sober-coloured ponchos, and black breeches very open at the knees, no stockings, and usutas or sandals of llama-hide. The distinctive mark of the alcaldes, of which they are very proud, is their staff of office, with silver or brass head and ferule, and rings round it according to the number of years the owner has held office. The Indians here wear the hair in numbers of very fine plaits reaching half-way down their backs. An Indian always accompanied the post-mules from one village to another, in order to take back the return-mules; and at Juliaca, while I was quietly enjoying the cura's hospitality, the Indians took my own mule back to Caracoto, as well as the post-mules. Next morning, therefore, I sent for it, and received an answer that the postmaster knew nothing about it. I was eventually obliged, after seeing the gardener and luggage on their way to Lampa, to go back to Caracoto, where the postmaster was drunk and insolent; and at length I found it, with a troop of others, on the great plain beyond Caracoto. Several Indians took much trouble for me in catching my mule; and it was late in the afternoon before I got back to Juliaca, and was ready to set out on my journey to Lampa. I mention this incident in order to show the trouble and inconvenience of acting as one's own muleteer, although such a mode of travelling is certainly four or five times as cheap as hiring an arriero; and I may add that the travelling by post-mules caused me incessant annoyance and trouble. Whenever they saw a chance the vicious brutes always ran off the road in different directions, bumped their cargo against rocks, and tried to roll, keeping us constantly employed in galloping after them, and greatly increasing the fatigues of the journeys. On several occasions, too, an animal was provided which was so weak or tired that it sank under its cargo before it had gone a league, and obliged me to return to the post-house for another. The adjustment and lashing of the cargos, like everything else, requires considerable knack and skill, which is only acquired by experience; the Indians were as ignorant in such matters as we were; and during the first three or four journeys our troubles were increased by the cargos constantly slipping on one side, when the mules always seized the opportunity of rushing off the road and kicking furiously.

A few miles north of Juliaca there is a large river, formed by the junction of those of Lampa and Cavanilla, the latter being the same which rises in the lake on the road between Arequipa and Puno, and flows by the post-house of La Compuerta. We crossed it in a reed balsa while the mules swam. Beyond the river is the great plain of ChaÑucahua, which was covered with large pools of water, at this season frequented by ducks and sandpipers. Close under the mountains, which bound it on every side, were a few sheep-farms, one of them the property of Don Manuel Costas of Puno, and the sheep roamed at will over many leagues of pasture-land. At the northern extremity of the plain the road ascends and descends a range of steep hills, and, turning a rocky spur, I came in sight of the town of Lampa. It was just sunset; the tall church-tower rising over the town, and a stone bridge spanning the river, were clearly defined by the crimson glow in the western sky, while the lofty peaked mountains forming the background were capped by masses of black threatening clouds. At that moment a tremendous thunder-storm, with flashes of forked lightning and torrents of rain, burst over the town.

Lampa is the capital of a province in the department of Puno, and I was hospitably received by the Sub-prefect, Don Manuel Barrio-nuevo, who occupied a good house in the plaza. A portion of the army of the South was quartered in the town; and the General came every evening to have tea with the Sub-prefect and his lady, a handsome ArequipeÑa. On these occasions the party consisted of General Frisancho and several officers, and ladies who came attended by their little Indian maids, carrying shawls, and squatting on the floor in comers during the visit. After tea and conversation the company generally sang some of the despedidas and love-songs of their national poet Melgar, in parts; and one young lady sang the plaintive yaravis of the Indians in Quichua.

The church of Lampa is a large building of stone, dating from 1685, with a dome of yellow, green, and blue glazed tiles, of which I was informed there was formerly a manufactory in Lampa. The tower is isolated, and about twenty yards from the church, apparently of a different date. Rows of Indian girls, in their gay-coloured dresses, were sitting in the plaza before their little heaps of chuÑus, ocas, potatoes, and other provisions, amongst which, at the season of Easter, there are always great quantities of herbs gathered on the mountains, possessing supposed medicinal virtues. Among these a fern, called racci-racci, is used as an emetic; churccu-churccu, a small wild oxalis, is taken as a cure for colds; chichira, the root of a small crucifer, for rheumatism; llacua-llacua, a composita, for curing wounds; quissu, a nettle, used as a purgative; cata-cata, a valerian, as an antispasmodic; tami-tami, the root of a gentian, as a febrifuge; quachanca, a euphorbia, the powdered root of which is taken as a purgative; hama-hama, the root of a valerian, said to be an excellent specific against epilepsy;[282] and many others, the native names of which, with their uses, were given me, but I was unacquainted with their botanical names. Generally when the name of a plant is repeated twice in Quichua it denotes the possession of some medicinal property.

On the morning of our departure from Lampa the ground was covered with snow, which was slowly melting under the sun's rays. Immediately after leaving the town the path winds up a steep mountain range called Chacun-chaca, the sides of the precipitous slopes being well clothed with queÑua-trees (Polylepis tomentella, Wedd.), which are gnarled and stunted, with dark-green leaves, and the bark of the trunk peeling like that of a yew. Their sombre foliage contrasted with the light-green tufts of stipa, and the patches of snow. The pass was long and dangerous, with little torrents pouring down every rut; and on its summit was the usual pacheta, or cairn, which the Indians erect on every conspicuous point. The path descends on the other side into a long narrow plain, with the hacienda of Chacun-chaca on the opposite side. The buildings are surrounded by queÑua-trees, and in their rear two remarkable peaked hills rise up abruptly, clothed with the same trees, with ridges of rock cropping out at intervals. Their sides were dotted with cattle, tended by pretty little cow-girls, armed with slings, and some of them playing the pincullu, or Indian flute. The plain was covered with long grass, in a saturated and spongy state, and groves of queÑua-trees grew thickly in the gullies of the mountains on either side. After a ride of several leagues over the plain, latterly along the banks of the river Pucara, I turned a point of the road, and suddenly came in sight of the almost perpendicular mountain, closely resembling the northern end of the rock of Gibraltar, which rises abruptly from the plain, with the little town of Pucara nestling at its feet. The precipice is composed of a reddish sandstone, upwards of twelve hundred feet above the plain, the crevices and summit clothed with long grass and shrubby queÑuas. Birds were whirling in circles at a great height above the rock, which, in the Spanish times, was famous for a fine breed of falcons, which were carefully guarded and regularly supplied with meat. They tell a story at Pucara that one of these birds was sent to the King of Spain, and that it returned of its own accord, being known by the collar.

Pucara means a fortress in Quichua; and here Francisco Hernandez Giron, the rebel who led an insurrection to oppose the abolition of personal service amongst the Indians, was finally defeated in 1554. The town is a little larger than Juliaca, with a handsome church in the same style, and a fountain in the plaza. I dined and passed the evening with the aged cura, Dr. JosÉ Faustino Dava, who is famous for his knowledge of the Quichua language, in its purest and most classical form. The fame of Dr. Dava's learning, in all questions connected with the antiquities of the Incas and the Quichua language, had reached me in England, and I was glad to obtain his valuable assistance in looking over a dictionary of the rich and expressive language of the Incas, on which I had been working for some time.

Owing to the diminution of the aboriginal population in Peru, and the constantly increasing corruption of the ancient language, through the substitution of Spanish for Quichua words, the introduction of Spanish modes of expression, and the loss of all purity of style, that language, once so important, which was used by a polished court and civilized people, which was spoken through the extent of a vast empire, and the use of which was spread by careful legislation, is now disappearing. Before long it will be a thing that is past, or perhaps fade away entirely from the memory of living generations. With it will disappear the richest form of all the great American group of languages, no small loss to the student of ethnology. With it will be lost all the traditions which yet remain of the old glory of the Incas, all the elegies, love-songs, and poems which stamp the character of a once powerful, but always gentle and amiable race.

Unlike the English in India, the half-Spanish races of Peru have paid little attention to the history and languages of the aborigines, within the present century; and, if left to them, all traces of the language of the Incas, and of the songs and traditions which remain in it, would, in the course of another century, almost entirely disappear. A few honourable exceptions must, however, be recorded. The late Mariano Rivero paid much attention to the antiquities of his country, and the results of his labours have been published at Vienna.[283] The curas of some of the parishes in the interior, also, especially Dr. Dava of Pucara, Dr. Rosas of Chinchero, and the Cura of Oropesa, near Cuzco, are excellent Quichua scholars, but they are very old men, and their knowledge will die with them.

Dr. Dava had a large collection of the finches, and other birds of the loftier parts of the Andes, hanging in wicker cages along the wall of his house. Amongst them were a little dove called urpi; the bright yellow little songster called silgarito in Spanish, and cchaiÑa in Quichua; the tuya, another larger warbler; the chocclla-poccochi or nightingale of Peru; and a little finch with glossy black plumage, pink on the back, and whitish-grey under the wings. He also had some small green paroquets, with long tails and bluish wings, which make their nests under the eaves of roofs, at a height of fourteen thousand feet above the sea. At Pucara some of the inhabitants have small manufactories for making glazed earthenware basins, pots, plates, and cups,[284] which find an extensive market in the villages and towns of the department of Puno, and which will probably long hold their own against the same kind of coarse wares from Europe or the United States.

From Puno to Pucara I had travelled along the main-road to Cuzco; but, at the latter place, I branched off to the eastward, to pass through the province of Azangaro to that of Caravaya. The main-road continues in a northerly direction, crosses the snowy range of VilcaÑota near Ayaviri, and descends the valley of the Vilcamayu to Cuzco. At Pucara I left post-houses and post-mules behind me, for they only exist on the main-roads between Arequipa, Puno, Cuzco, and Lima; henceforth I had to depend on being able to induce private persons to let out their mules or ponies to me.

About 500 yards from the town of Pucara is the river of the same name, which flows past Ayaviri in the mountains of VilcaÑota. It was very full, and eighty yards across. The mules swam, and we had to cross in a rickety balsa made of two bundles of reeds, which had to go backwards and forwards five times before all the gear and baggage was on the eastern side. After riding over a plain which became gradually narrower as the mountains closed in, I began the ascent of a rocky cuesta, with a torrent dashing down over huge boulders into the plain. There was a splendid view of the distant rock of Pucara, with the snowy peaks of the VilcaÑota range behind. A league further on there was an alpine lake, with a fine peaked cliff rising up from the water's edge. There were many ducks and widgeons, and large coots were quietly busy, swimming about and building their nests on little reed islands; also jet-black ibises, with dark rusty red heads and long curved bills. After a ride of several leagues over a grassy country covered with flocks of sheep, I reached the summit of a range of hills, and got a distant view of the town of Azangaro, in a plain with several isolated steep grassy mountains rising from it, and the snowy Andes of Caravaya in the background. After a very wearisome descent I reached the plain, and, riding into Azangaro, was most hospitably and kindly received by Don Luis QuiÑones, one of the principal inhabitants.

The region which I had traversed between Puno and Azangaro is all of the same character—a series of grassy plains of great elevation, covered with flocks and herds, and watered by numerous rivers flowing into lake Titicaca, which are traversed by several mountain-ranges, spurs from the cordillera, which sometimes run up into peaks almost to the snow-line, and at others sink into rocky plateaux raised like steps above the plain. What strikes one most in travelling through this country is the evidence of the vast population it must have contained in the days of the Incas, indicated by the ruined remains of andeneria, or terraces for cultivation, rising in every direction tier above tier up the sides of the hills. But it is now almost exclusively a grazing country, and the Indians, employed in tending the large flocks of sheep, only raise a sufficient supply of edible roots for the consumption of their families, and the market of the nearest town. Frequently the shepherds are what are called yanaconas, or Indians kept to service by the owners of the flocks, which vary from 400 to 1000 head. The condition of this class of Indians is very hard, as they get only a monthly allowance of an arroba of chuÑu (frozen potato) or quinoa, and a pound of coca, or four dollars a month in money.

Puno, Juliaca, Lampa, Pucara, and Azangaro, are all between 12,800 and 13,000 feet above the sea. Between March 28th and April 15th, the indications of the thermometer at these places were as follows:—

Azangaro is the capital of the province of the same name. There is a tradition that, when the Indians were bringing gold and silver for the ransom of the Inca Atahualpa, they received news of his murder by Pizarro, at Sicuani, and at the same time orders came from Inca Manco, who was at Cuzco, to remove the treasure to a greater distance; and that they buried it near this town. Asuan is "more," carun "distant;" hence Azangaro. It is generally believed that this treasure, worth 7,000,000 dollars, as well as the fifteen mule-loads of church-plate brought into the town by Diego Tupac Amaru in 1781, are concealed somewhere, and that some of the Indians know the place well, but will not divulge it. Hence there have been numerous attempts to discover it, and one sub-prefect made several excavations under the pavement in the church, but without any success. On one occasion, not long ago, an old Indian, who had been a servant in the house where Diego Tupac Amaru lodged, told the sub-prefect that in the centre of the sala, after digging down for about two feet, a layer of gravel from the river would be reached; a little further down a layer of lime and plaster; a little further a layer of large stones; and that beneath the stones would be the treasure. The excavation was commenced, and great was the excitement when all the different layers were found exactly as the Indian had described them; but there was no treasure. It is not unlikely that the Indian only knew or only told half the clue; and that these layers were some mark, whence a line was to be measured in some particular direction, and to a certain distance, to denote the spot under which the treasure was deposited. Yet the searches have not been wholly unsuccessful. There are several subterranean passages and chambers under Azangaro, and one was discovered a few years ago which had been made by the Indians in ancient times. It led towards the plaza, and ended in a recess, where there were several mummies, adorned with golden suns and armlets, and golden semispheres covering their ears—now the property of my host, Don Luis QuiÑones.

Azangaro is par excellence the city of hidden treasure. The houses are built of mud and straw, and thatched with coarse grass (stipa ychu), the better sort being whitewashed. To the north of the town there is a long ridge of rocky heights; to the south an isolated peaked hill nearly overhangs the town; to the east is the river; and to the west is a plain bounded by the mountains towards Pucara. The church, in the plaza, is like a large barn outside, with walls of mud and straw, and a tower with broad-brimmed red-tiled roof; but on entering it I was astonished at its extraordinary magnificence, so entirely out of proportion to the wealth or importance of this little town. The nave is lined with large pictures on religious subjects, by native artists, in frames of carved wood richly gilt. The elaborate gilded carving was very striking; the leaves, bunches of grapes, and twisted columns, being the workmanship of the famous carvers of Cuzco. Over the arch leading to the chancel there is a picture representing the Triumph of the Faith, in bright colours. The high altar is plated with massive silver, with gilded columns, pictures, and images, in gorgeous profusion up to the roof. On either side are two very remarkable pictures, filling the walls between the altar and the chancel-arch. On the right an allegorical picture, and the Shepherds worshipping. One figure, in the latter picture, a girl holding a basket on her head, is of great merit, and exactly resembles the 'Santa Justa' of Murillo in the Duke of Sutherland's collection. On the left is a picture of the 'Woman taken in Adultery,' and an excellent copy of the well-known 'Worshipping of the Magi,' by Rubens, in the Madrid gallery. In a side chapel there is a copy of Leonardo da Vinci's 'Last Supper,' with portraits of two caciques—the heads of the two great families of Azangero—with their wives, one of them very pretty, looking on in a corner. These copies, which are excellent, must have been procured from Europe at very great expense.

The author of all this magnificence, according to the inscription on his portrait, which is fixed in a handsome gilt frame by the side of the chancel arch, was the Bachiller Dr. Don Basco Bernardo Lopez de Cangas, a native of Cuzco, and Cura of Azangaro. The interior decorations were completed on January 12th, 1758, and the cura died in 1771. He must have been possessed of enormous wealth, to have enabled him thus to beautify and adorn his church with such lavish profusion.

In the days of the Incas the two great families of Azangaro, whose heads ranked as Curacas, were the Murumallcucalcinas and Chuquihuancas; and they retained the office of cacique until recent Spanish times. The Murumallcucalcina family is now extinct: they lived in the town, and a portion of their house still remains, called the Sondor-huasi, dating from the time of the Incas, and the greatest curiosity in the place. It is a circular building, about twelve feet in diameter, with walls twelve feet high, of mud and straw, very strong and thick. The dome-shaped roof of thatch also dates from the time of the Incas. The outside coating consists of a layer of stipa ychu, two feet thick, placed in very regular rows, and most carefully finished, so as to present a smooth surface to the weather. Next there is a thick layer of the same grass placed horizontally, netted together with reeds; and finally an inner perpendicular layer; the whole thatch being five feet thick. The interior framework consists of twelve perfect circles of bent wands, with others descending in curves from the apex of the roof to the crest of the wall, and where they cross there are lashings of a tough reed. The whole is finished with most admirable neatness, forming a perfect dome. This is the only roof of the time of the Incas still remaining in Peru, and hence its great importance in an antiquarian point of view. It has been said that the colossal and highly-finished masonry of the Incas, and their poor thatched roofs, formed a barbaric contrast; but the Sondor-huasi proves that their roofs rivalled their walls in the exquisite art and neatness of their finish. The Sondor-huasi is now in a very dilapidated state, and is used as a kitchen by the degenerate collateral heirs of the old caciques.

The Chuquihuanca family had a country house about a league from Azangaro, which was destroyed by the army of Tupac Amaru in 1780, because the Chuquihuancas deserted their countrymen and adhered to the Spanish cause. I accompanied Don Luis QuiÑones, and the whole of the society of Azangaro, to a picnic at the ruined house of the Chuquihuancas; and it was amusing to see all the masters of families, the Sub-Prefect Don Hipolito Valdez, the judge, the cura, and every one else, locking the great folding-doors leading into their patios, and putting the keys into their pockets. Azangaro was entirely deserted. We were all well mounted, and there were fourteen young ladies of the party, fresh pleasant girls, who thoroughly enjoyed a good gallop. The ruined house was in a corner of the plain, and surrounded on three sides by steep overhanging cliffs. There are the remains of a house, with a long corridor of brick arches, behind which several broad terraces rise up the face of the cliff, which are still ornamented with some fine oliva silvestre and queÑua trees, a few ancient apple-trees, and a dense growth of bright-yellow CompositÆ, and Solanums with a purple flower. A noisy torrent foamed down the cliffs and over the terraces to the plain below. It was a very pretty spot, but in a most desolate condition, and many small doves made their nests in the trees. Lupins (ccerra[285]) and nettles (itapallu) were growing in the crevices of the rocks. We had an excellent and very merry dinner; a large amount of Moquegua wine, and of the better-clarified and more generous liquor from Don Domingo Elias's vineyards at Pisco, were drunk; and guitar-playing and samocueca-dancing finished the day's entertainment. We returned to Azangaro after dark. Don Luis assured me that the people of this little town were like one family; and that, though election-time or periods of civil dissension sometimes caused estrangement amongst them, the habitual concord and friendship always returned when the excuse for alienation had passed away.

Azangaro is a great cattle-breeding province, and there is a considerable trade in cheeses with Arequipa and other parts. I found very great difficulty in procuring animals to enable me to continue my journey. At length I succeeded in hiring four miserable-looking, vicious, undersized ponies; and, having crossed the Azangaro on balsas, by far the largest river I had passed over since leaving Puno, the way led over the rocky range of Pacobamba hills into another plain, where there were several cattle and sheep farms; and the village of Corruarini, consisting of a ruined church and a dozen huts. The river Azangaro rises in the snowy mountains of Caravaya, forms an immense curve of nearly half a circle in a course of about two hundred miles, and, uniting with the river of Pucara, falls into the lake of Titicaca as the river Ramiz, the largest of its affluents. After a ride of six leagues we reached the little village of San JosÉ, under a conical hill, and close to the snowy mountains of Surupana.

I dined with the cura, Fray Juan de Dios Cardenas, who gave me a list of medicinal herbs used in Azangaro; and the beasts from that place were so infamous that I was obliged to invoke his assistance to procure fresh ones. It appeared that two Frenchmen had passed a few days before, on their way to establish a saw-mill in the Caravaya forests, with a view to floating timber down the river of Azangaro to lake Titicaca, and that they had ill-treated some Indians. It was thus very difficult to induce them to furnish ponies, but the alcaldes, with their great hats and long sticks, were summoned, and, after some negotiation, they were induced to supply four ponies to go as far as Crucero, the capital of the province of Caravaya. It was most fortunate that I was enabled to do this, for, during the night, the owners of the Azangaro ponies came out to San JosÉ, and stole them, so that we should have been left without even this wretched means of conveyance.

From San JosÉ the path winds up a long ravine for several leagues, down which a torrent dashes furiously over the rocks, descending from the snowy peak of Accosiri. The mountain scenery, consisting of steep grassy slopes, masses of rock, torrents, and distant snowy peaks, was very fine. The ravine led up to the summit of the pass of Surupana, where it was intensely cold, and the height of which I roughly estimated, with a boiling-point thermometer, at 16,700 feet above the sea. Here I met an active young vicuÑa-hunter, well mounted, and provided with a gun, who said he was a servant of the Cacique Chuquihuanca of Azangaro, on his way to buy wool in Caravaya. He continued in my company during most part of the day. Loud claps of thunder burst out in different directions, and a snow-storm was drifting in our faces. The ravines were covered with deep snow, between high dark mountains, with abrupt cliffs cropping out. A flock of vicuÑas dashed across our path, disappearing again in the driving sleet. After wading through snow and mud for several leagues the weather cleared up, and we began to descend a splendid gorge, exactly like some of the finest coombs on the north coast of Devon, on a gigantic scale. This led us down into a valley, where I parted with my young vicuÑa-hunter, who had been a very pleasant companion. Riding down the grassy valley, and passing many flocks of sheep, I rode through the village of Potoni, a dozen huts on the side of a hill; forded the river Azangaro, which is here but a small stream even in the rainy season; and riding up the opposite bank, got a magnificent view of the snowy mountains of Caravaya, with their sharp needle-like peaks. Two leagues brought me to Crucero, the capital of the province of Caravaya, so called from the cross-roads which here branch off to the various villages in the forests on the other side of the snowy barrier which rises up close to the town, to the eastward.

Crucero is a collection of comfortless mud-houses, with a small dilapidated church in the plaza, on a very elevated swampy plain. It was intensely cold, with heavy snow-storms during the nights, and the people sat wrapped up in cloaks without fires, shivering in a dreary helpless way, and going to bed soon after sunset, as the only comfortable place. I was most kindly received by the sub-prefect, Don Pablo Pimentel, a veteran soldier, and an official who had served many years at the head of the Government in Caravaya, and in Lampa. Dr. Weddell had named a new genus of chinchonaceous plants Pimentelia, in honour of the worthy old sub-prefect, which had pleased him very much. I remained a few days in Crucero, before setting out for the chinchona-forests in the valleys of Sandia and Tambopata; and during that time I obtained a good deal of information from Don Pablo Pimentel, and from SeÑor Leefdael the Judge, respecting the province of Caravaya. Don Pablo had travelled over almost every part of it; and I also received much information at Arequipa from Don Agustin Aragon, a former sub-prefect, who has a large estate in the Caravaya forests. From these sources I am enabled to offer some account of those parts of Caravaya which I did not visit, and which will form the subject of the following chapter. Caravaya is a region of which little is known to European geographers, and, so far as I am aware, no traveller has yet given any account of it to the English public.