CARAVAYA.—THE VALLEY OF SANDIA.

On the 18th of April I left Crucero, on my way to the chinchona forests, rather late in the afternoon, accompanied by Mr. Weir the gardener, a young mestizo named Pablo Sevallos, and two cargo-mules. After a ride of three leagues along the bleak plain of Crucero, covered with coarse Stipa and stunted Cacti, we reached a little shepherd's hut, called Choclari-piÑa, at dusk. It was built of loose stones, with a sheepskin hung across the doorway, but with no plaster or mud between the interstices of the stones, so that the piercingly cold wind blew right through the hut.[308] The poor Indian family were kind and hospitable, and gave us plenty of fresh milk. Next morning we continued the journey along the same plain, with the snowy peaks of the Caravayan Andes on the left, and the glorious nevada of Ananea ahead, whence rise the rivers of Azangaro flowing into lake Titicaca, and of Ynambari finding its way to the Atlantic. A ride of twelve miles brought us to a hut called Acco-kunka (neck of sand), at the foot of long ridges of dark-coloured cliffs, with huge boulders of rock scattered over the sides of the hills. A hard white frost covered the ground.

At Acco-kunka I met a red-faced man, about fifty years of age, who gave his name as Don Manuel Martel. He said that he had been a colonel, and had suffered persecution for being faithful to his party; that he had lost much money in the cascarilla trade; and that he was now making a clearing in the forests of Caravaya, for the purpose of growing sugar-cane. He talked about M. Hasskarl, the Dutch agent, who was employed to obtain chinchona-plants in 1854, under his assumed name of MÜller; said that he employed an agent named Clemente Henriquez to collect the plants; and vowed that if he, or any one else, ever again attempted to take cascarilla (chinchona) plants out of the country, he would stir up the people to seize them and cut their feet off. There was evidently some allusion to myself in his bluster; and I suspected, what afterwards proved to be the case, that Martel had, by some means, got information respecting the objects of my journey, and was desirous of thwarting them. I had always carefully avoided any mention of the subject since leaving Arequipa. Martel said he was going to buy gold-dust at Poti, so I soon got rid of him; and, passing an alpine lake, full of water-fowl, we began the descent into the golden valleys of Caravaya.

On the left a black cliff, perpendicular, and fully 2000 feet high, formed one side of the descent, and the space on its inner side was occupied by a small glacier, the only one I have ever seen in the Andes; whence descends, in a long waterfall, the source of the little river Huaccuyo, which dashes down the ravine. For the first thousand feet the vegetation continues to be of a lowly alpine character, consisting of coarse grass and flowering herbs, chiefly CompositÆ, of which there were several Senecios, generally with yellow flowers, a gentian with violet-coloured flowers, a Bartsia with a yellow flower, a little Plantago, and a Ranunculus. As we continued the descent, the scenery increased in magnificence. The polished surfaces of the perpendicular cliffs glittered here and there with foaming torrents, some like thin lines of thread, others broader and breaking over rocks, others seeming to burst out of the fleecy clouds; while jagged black peaks, glittering with streaks of snow, pierced the mist which concealed their bases. After descending for some leagues through this glorious scenery, the path at length crossed a ridge, and brought us to the crest of the deep and narrow ravine of Cuyo-cuyo.

The path down the side of the gorge is very precipitous, through a succession of andeneria, or terraced gardens, some abandoned, and others planted with ocas (Oxalis tuberosa), barley, and potatoes; the upper tiers from six to eight feet wide, but gradually becoming broader. Their walled sides are thickly clothed with Calceolarias, Celsias, Begonias, a large purple Solanum, and a profusion of ferns. But it was not until reaching the little village in the bottom of the hollow that all the glories of the scene burst upon me. The river of Sandia, which takes its rise at the head of the ravine, flows by the village of Cuyo-cuyo, bordered by ferns and wild flowers. It is faced, near the village, with fern-covered masonry, and is crossed by several stone bridges of a single arch. Almost immediately on either side, the steep precipitous mountains, lined, at least a hundred deep, with well-constructed andeneria, and faced with stone, rise up abruptly. In several places a cluster of cottages, built on one of the terraces, seemed almost to be hanging in the air. Above all the dark rocks shoot up into snowy peaks, which stood out against the blue sky. A most lovely scene, but very sad, for the great majority of those carefully-constructed terraces, eternal monuments of the beneficence of the Incas, are now abandoned. The alcalde of Cuyo-cuyo received me most hospitably. In the early morning numbers of lambs and young llamas were playing about in the abandoned terraced gardens near the village. Besides Cuyo-cuyo, there are two small hamlets, called Muchucachi and Sullanqui, and several scattered huts in the ravine, the population of which is estimated at 2000 souls.

In the morning of April 20th I rode down the beautiful gorge to the confluence of the rivers of Sandia and Huaccuyo. After this junction the stream becomes a roaring torrent, dashing over huge rocks, and descending rapidly down the ravine towards Sandia. On both sides vast masses of dark frowning mountains rear themselves up for thousands of feet, and end in fantastically shaped peaks, some of them veiled by thin fleecy clouds. The vegetation rapidly increased in luxuriance with the descent. At first there were low shrubs, such as Baccharis odorata, Weinmannia fagaroides, &c.; which gradually gave place to trees and large bushes; while all the way from Cuyo-cuyo there were masses of ferns of many kinds, Begonias, Calceolarias, Lupins, Salvias, and Celsias. Waterfalls streamed down the mountains in every direction: some in a white sheet of continuous foam for hundreds of feet, finally seeming to plunge into huge beds of ferns and flowers; some like driven spray; and in one place a fall of water could be seen between two peaks, which seemed to fall into the clouds below.

A most glorious and enchanting scene, allowing little time to think of the road, which was very bad, and in many places most perilous. In its best parts it was like a steep back-attic staircase after an earthquake. Three leagues from Cuyo-cuyo is the confluence of the torrent of Ñacorequi with the river of Sandia; and after this point maize begins to be cultivated, where the craggy jutting cliffs permit, between the river and the mountains. The Indians live in eyrie-like huts, perched at great heights, here and there, amongst the maize terraces. The village of Sandia is at a distance of fifteen miles from Cuyo-cuyo, down this ravine, a dilapidated little place, with more than half the houses roofless and in ruins. It is built along the banks of the river, and has a church in the plaza. The mountains rise up all round it, almost perpendicularly, forming a close amphitheatre; and in two places glittering cascades foam down from their very summits, into the bushes on a level with the town.

The descent from the summit of the pass over the Caravayan Andes to Sandia is very considerable, nearly 7000 feet in thirty miles, from an arctic to a sub-tropical climate. The height of Crucero is 12,980 feet; of the pass 13,600; of Cuyo-cuyo 10,510; and of Sandia 6930 feet above the sea.[309]

The four mountains closely hemming in the village of Sandia are mount Chicanaco, which is beautified by a splendid cascade; mount Vianaco, which ends in two fine wooded peaks, between which a long slender thread of water descends into the foliage midway; mount Camparacani, on the other side of the river, which rises up to a stupendous height, ending in a jagged rocky peak; and mount Catasuyu, which completes the circle, rising abruptly above the church. The name of Sandia is probably a corruption of the Spanish word sandilla, the first settlers having mistaken the quantities of gourds which grow here for sandillas or water-melons.

When I arrived in Sandia the governor was absent on his estate; the cura, my good friend Dr. Guaycochea, was getting in his maize-harvest on his land near Cuzco; and the principal remaining inhabitants were the Juez de Paz, Don Francisco Farfan, and one Don Manuel Mena, who was drunk in bed when I arrived, but who afterwards received me very hospitably. These good people are, in manners and education, the roughest backwoodsmen, much too fond of aguardiente, and addicted to chewing coca to excess; but they are warm-hearted and neighbourly, while they display some energy in working the coffee and coca estates in the distant montaÑa, and in making roads, such as they are, from these estates to Sandia. The richer people of Sandia all have more or less of Indian blood, and their wives and daughters are unable to speak any language but Quichua; and thus they seem to be more closely united in interests and feelings with the mass of the population than in any other part of Peru. The Indians of the district of Sandia are divided into six ayllus or tribes, besides the inhabitants of the villages of Sandia, Cuyo-cuyo, and Patambuco. These ayllus are established on the mountains around Sandia, living in scattered huts, some cultivating maize and potatoes, others raising barley and alfalfa for mules. The ayllus are called Laqueque, about a league up the river, on the right bank; Cuyo-cuyo (not the village), behind mount Camparacani; Oruro, on the heights below Cuyo-cuyo; Quiaca (not the village), near Oruro; Quenequi, about a league down the river; and Apabuco, behind mount Catasuyu. The population of the parish of Sandia is about 7000; 4000 in Sandia and its six ayllus, 2000 in the village and ravine of Cuyo-cuyo, and 1000 in Patambuco. As many as 1000 souls fell victims to the dreadful pestilence of 1855, which raged over all parts of the Andes of Peru. Nearly every Indian family, besides land near Sandia, owns a small farm of coca or coffee down in the montaÑa, to which men, women, and children go at harvest-time. As in all parts of the Andes, so in the Sandia ravine, I constantly found the Indians civil, obliging, and respectful, always saluting with an "Ave Maria Taytay!" and a touch of the hat in passing. They are reserved and silent, it is true, and superficial observers take this for stupidity. Never was there a greater mistake: their skill in carving and all carpenter's work, in painting and embroidery, the exquisite fabrics they weave from vicuÑa-wool, the really touching poetry of their love-songs and yaravis, the traditional histories of their ayllus, which they preserve with religious care, surely disprove so false a charge.

The houses in Sandia are the merest barns, with mud-walls, and roofs which let the water in. All the family sleep together in a promiscuous way; pigs and fowls wandering over the floor at early dawn. The Juez de Paz, Francisco Farfan, administers justice in such a place as this, lounging on a sort of mud-platform at one end of the room, where his bed is made up, while the culprit, and a crowd of alcaldes and spectators, stand before him. Every one chatters at the same time for about ten minutes, and the prisoner is sent to the lock-up. The Jueces de Paz have to render periodical accounts of all their cases, attested by witnesses, to the Juez de Primera Instancia in the capital of the province.

While upon the subject of these local authorities, it will be well to give an account of the powers placed in their hands by the Constitution of 1856, by which Peru is now governed; both because the measures then adopted will, I believe, have a lasting and beneficial effect on the people, and because the persons so vested with power endeavoured to display their patriotic zeal by throwing obstacles in my way. By this constitution it was provided that in the capital of each department there should be a Junta Departmental,[310] the members of which should be elected in the same way and with the same qualifications as those for the National Congress, to meet every year. These Juntas were to deliberate and legislate for the advancement and material progress of the departments, their decrees being null if contrary to any law of Congress. The evident objection to this measure is its tendency to split the country up into small communities with separate interests, which has always proved to be most disastrous in thinly-peopled and half-civilized states. This view is taken in a very able article on the constitution, in a periodical published at Lima, where the Juntas Departmentales are declared to be the initiation of a system of "federation," the result of which has always been to dismember countries into so many small depopulated districts, as in Mexico, Central America, New Granada, and the Argentine Republic, introducing civil war, anarchy, and dissolution. The writer might now add the dis-United States of North America also.[311]

But the institutions to which I before alluded, as having had a beneficial effect, are the Juntas Municipales,[312] which were to be established in every district where materials existed to form them, and to have the regulation of the local funds and improvements. They were to consist of the most influential citizens, elected by their fellow townsmen, and were to attend to local interests, have charge of the civic registers, take the census, &c. The same writer speaks of these municipalities in terms of unqualified praise, and says that their establishment is a positive good, without in any way promoting a federation which would be ruinous to Peruvian nationality.[313] They will give young men the opportunity of becoming acquainted with public affairs, teach them habits of business, and gradually train them for more important political duties. I look upon these institutions as one of the sources of hope for a brighter future for Peru; and as long as they show activity, whether in a right or wrong direction, they must be productive of good. The habit of taking an active part in public affairs must be better than the torpor and indifference which formerly prevailed. I saw several signs of activity in these Juntas Municipales during my journey from Puno. At Lampa they were actively engaged in an endeavour to re-establish a manufactory of glazed tiles in that town; in Azangaro they were collecting subscriptions for a bridge across the river, to which one of their body had contributed half the required sum; and in Sandia they were drawing up a report on the state of the roads, with an estimate of the sum required for their thorough repair and bridging. I was happy to be able to assist the Sandia Municipality, by preparing a map for them, to illustrate their report. The Juntas Municipales of Sandia and Quiaca also, especially the latter, took measures to prevent me from procuring a supply of chinchona-plants or seeds, influenced by motives which exposed their ignorance of political economy, while it displayed their activity and patriotic zeal.

In Sandia the municipal body consists of the Alcalde Municipal, who presides, the Teniente Alcalde, the Syndic, two Judges of the Peace, three Regidores, one of whom is Don Manuel Mena, and a Secretary.

My original plan had been to examine the chinchona forests during this month, make as many meteorological and other observations as was possible, and perhaps send down a small collection of plants to the coast; but to make the principal collection of plants and seeds in August, the month when the seeds of C. Calisaya are ripe. I had not, however, been two days in Sandia before I discovered that Martel had already written to several of the inhabitants, urging them to prevent me from taking chinchona plants or seeds out of the country, and to bring the matter before the Junta Municipal of the district. I heard also that he was busying himself in the same way in other villages bordering on the chinchona forests. My mission was becoming the talk of the whole country; and I at once saw that my only chance of success was to commence the work of collecting plants without a moment's delay, and, if possible, anticipate any measures which might be taken to thwart my designs.

It was at Sandia that it became necessary to make final preparations for a journey into the forests, for beyond this point the possibility of procuring supplies of any kind is very doubtful. I here laid in a stock of bread to last for about a month, which was toasted in the oven belonging to the cura, the only one in the place, and which, together with some chocolate and cheese, formed the provisions for myself and the gardener. I then persuaded the judge to order the alcaldes of four of the ayllus to procure four Indians and two cargo-mules, the Indians to bring their own provisions with them, for which I advanced them money. After considerable delays my little expedition was ready to start, consisting of myself, Mr. Weir the gardener, Pablo Sevallos the mestizo, four Indians, and two mules. The supplies and provisions were packed in six leathern bags, containing tea and sugar, chocolate, toasted bread, cheese, candles, concentrated beef-tea, changes of clothes, instruments, powder and shot, besides a tent, an air-bed, gutta-percha robes, ponchos, a wood-knife and trowel, and maize and salt meat for Pablo and the Indians. It took several days to complete these preparations.

The climate of Sandia, at this time of the year, is exceedingly agreeable, the days being fine and clear until late in the afternoon, and not too hot. The prevailing wind blows up the ravine from the north-east, being the trade which comes across the vast forest-covered plains of the interior. It is this warm trade-wind which produces a much milder climate and more tropical vegetation in Cuyo-cuyo than in Arequipa, though the former place is three thousand feet higher than the latter. In Sandia, just after sunset, it feels rather chilly, and during the middle of the day the sun is exceedingly hot. Light clouds generally hang about the highest peaks. The variety of most beautiful and graceful ferns on the walls of the houses, and near the banks of the river, is endless.

I had the satisfaction of seeing, in the house of Don Manuel Mena, before leaving Sandia, a bundle of small branches of the ychu cascarilla (C. Calisaya, var. Josephiana), with leaves and flowers, which had been collected as a tonic medicine for a little daughter of my host.

On the 24th of April, late in the afternoon, we left Sandia, and reached the tambo, or travellers' hut, called Cahuan-chaca, before dark. The road leads down the ravine, along narrow ledges overhanging the river, which dashes furiously along, in most places between perpendicular cliffs. The path is very narrow and dangerous, but the scenery is superb, and the vegetation becomes richer and more tropical at every league of the descent.

One of the Indians traitorously fled on the first day, and my party was thus reduced to three, who were barely able to carry the necessary provisions. These three men proved faithful and willing fellow-labourers. Their names were Andres Vilca of the Oruro Ayllu, Julian Ccuri of Cuyo-cuyo, and Santos Quispi of Apabuco. They were fine-looking young fellows, wearing their hair in long plaits down their backs, coarse canvas trousers and shirts. They carry the cargos in large cloths tied in bundles, and placed in other cloths, which are passed over one shoulder and tied across the chest, called ccepis. They stoop forward and step out at a great rate; and it is in this way that Indians carry their burdens along the roads, and women their children, throughout Peru. The tambo of Cahuan-chaca is a shed, with one side open, and we slept in company with three Indians and a woman on their way to get in a coca-harvest in the Hatun-yunca, who were living very well on salt mutton, eggs, and potatoes.

The river rushing down the valley winds along the small breadth of level land, striking first against the precipitous cliffs on one side, and then sweeping over to the other, so that a road in the bottom of the valley would require a bridge at almost every hundred yards. It has, therefore, been necessary to excavate a path in the sides of the mountains, high above the river, which in some places has a breadth of three feet only, with a perpendicular cliff on one side, and a precipice six or seven hundred feet deep on the other; while, in others, it zigzags down amongst loose stones, where one false step would be immediate destruction. But the scenery continued to increase in beauty, and the cascades were really splendid:—

The river dashed noisily through the centre of the gorge, and the masses of green on either side were toned down by many flowers in large patches, bright purple LasiandrÆ, orange CassiÆ, and scarlet SalviÆ. I also saw an Indigofera growing in this part of the ravine.

A mile from the hut of Cahuan-chaca is the confluence of the river Huascaray; and a league lower down is the little shed or tambo of Cancallani. Here bamboos and tree-ferns first appear, and coca is cultivated in terraces which are fringed with coffee-plants, with their rich green foliage and crimson berries. I observed that the huts in the middle of these patches of coca or maize had no doors, showing the confidence of the inmates in the honesty of the numerous passers-by, who go to and fro between Sandia and the more distant coca estates.[314] I passed the estate of Chayllabamba, with terraces of coca at least fifty deep, up the sides of the mountains; and Asalay, a coffee estate, with groves of orange and chirimoya-trees, the extreme point reached by M. Hasskarl, the Dutch collector, in 1854. At the confluence of the rivers Asalay and Sandia perpendicular cliffs rise abruptly from the valley to a stupendous height on both sides, and the path winds up in a serpentine slippery staircase, to creep along the edge of the steep grassy slopes or pajonales, far above the tropical vegetation of the ravine. Winding along this path, we came to the tambo of Paccay-samana, on the grassy pajonal, the mountains rising up on the opposite side of the ravine only about sixty yards distant; yet the river, in the bottom of the gorge, was many hundreds of feet below. There were thickets with masses of bright flowers in the gullies, and glorious cascades shimmering in the sunlight on the opposite mountain-sides.

It was at this spot that we first encountered chinchona-plants. A number of young plants of C. Calisaya, var. Josephiana, were growing by the side of the road, with their exquisite roseate flowers, and rich green leaves with crimson veins. The rock is a metamorphic slate, unfossiliferous, slightly micaceous, and ferruginous, with quartz occurring here and there: the soil a stiff brown loam. Above the tambo there was a small thicket of gaultherias, called ccarani in Quichua, and MelastomaceÆ with bright purple flowers (Lasiandra fontanesiana), in a shallow gully, surrounded by the rich broad-bladed grass of the pajonal. Here there were some fine plants of the chinchona named by Dr. Weddell C. Caravayensis; and further on more plants of C. Josephiana, called ychu cascarilla by the natives. The height of this spot is 5420 feet above the sea. A tree-fern and many Trichomanes were growing with the chinchonÆ. Paccay-samana is sixteen miles from Sandia.

Animal life did not appear to be very abundant. There were plenty of large doves, some ducks near the river, and a brilliant woodpecker. I also saw great numbers of large swallow-tailed butterflies, purple with light-blue spots on the upper wings; and others with white upper wings edged with jet black and rows of white spots, the lower wings orange.

Beyond Paccay-samana there were several more plants of C. Josephiana, rising out of masses of maiden-hair and Polypodia. After following the edge of the pajonal for about a mile, we descended by a precipitous zigzag path and crossed over the river Pulluma, at its confluence with the Sandia. Here the road to the Hatun-yunca or Valle Grande branches off up the mountain of Ramas-pata, while our way continued down the ravine. The scenery is here remarkably beautiful. Lofty mountains, with their bright cascades, are clothed to their summits with rich grass, while their gullies are filled with flowering trees and shrubs. Half-way up, in many directions, the stone terraces of coca rise tier above tier, fringed with ferns and begonias, and filled with the delicate coloured green coca-branches, diversified occasionally by the darker hues of the coffee. The ravine is filled with masses of purple MelastomaceÆ, and the river is fringed with tree-ferns, plantains, and bamboos.

This purple Melastomacea (Lasiandra fontanesiana), called in Quichua panti-panti, in the brilliancy and abundance of its flowers, bears the same relation to this part of the Peruvian Andes as the rhododendron does to the Himalayas. The effect in masses is much the same, but the Lasiandra appears to me to be a more graceful and delicate tree, with a more beautiful flower. In this ravine we have the shrub chinchonÆ on the high grassy slopes, perhaps the finest coffee in the world near the banks of the river, and a little galium by the road-side—all chinchonaceous plants.

At noon on April 26th we rested in the tambo of Ypara, in the centre of coca cultivation, and in the afternoon, crossing the river by a wooden bridge, we had to travel along the skirts of the mountains, at a considerable height, in the region of the pajonales. No gullies or large cascades cut up the face of these mountains, which were entirely exposed to the full glare of the sun, and here, though there was a profusion of purple MelastomaceÆ in some of the shallow indentations, there were no chinchonÆ. Towards evening we came to a lofty spur of the mountain, called Estanqui, at a great height above the ravine, whence there was a most extensive view. To the left was the valley of Sandia, with little coca-farms nestling in all the sheltered gullies; and I could just make out the boys and girls far far below, like specks, busy with the coca-leaves in the drying-yards. In front there was a distant view of the hills in the direction of San Juan del Oro, covered with virgin forest; while at our feet, and a thousand feet below us, was the confluence of the rivers Sandia, Llaypuni, and Huari-huari, which unite to form the great river Ynambari.

It was my intention, after marking down all the eligible plants of the shrubby Calisaya, to be taken up on our return, to make for the forest-covered valley of Tambopata, which is full of chinchona-trees; and I therefore left the ravine of the Sandia river at this point, and, by a rapid descent, went down from the grassy uplands to a region of tropical forest, full of palms and tree-ferns. We thus reached the banks of the Huari-huari. This river flows through a deep and very narrow ravine, lined with forest, for about 500 feet, above which rise grassy mountains to an immense height. Though only 30 feet across, and confined by dark polished rocks, the Huari-huari is very deep, and decidedly a more important stream than the Sandia, at their junction.

We established ourselves under a rock, where there was no room to pitch the tent, and thus our first night of camping out commenced, for previously we had slept in the road-side tambos. The Indians carried little earthen pots for cooking, in their ccepis, and got up a fire of dry sticks with great rapidity. I had a delicious bath in the river, where the tall forest trees overshadowed the water on either side. At night the moon streamed its floods of light over the forest, and the brilliant sparks from myriads of fire-flies shone from the trees in every direction up the side of the opposite mountain; but in the early morning the sky clouded over, and a heavy drizzling rain began to fall, which prevented sleep, and made us wish for day.

From this encampment our way led up the precipitous sides of the mountain, to the grassy pajonales which divide the valleys of Sandia and Tambopata; but I will here halt awhile to give a brief account of the cultivation of that plant, of which we had lately seen so much, and which enabled me to ascend the mighty passes of the Andes on foot with ease and comfort—the strength-giving, invigorating coca.

A general geographical description of all this country has been given in the preceding chapter.

During my stay at Sandia the indications of the thermometer were as follows, between the 20th and 25th of April:—