CHAPTER XIII

_“The Gateway to an Imprisoned Land”_

Mollendo, the port for Arequipa, Cuzco, La Paz, is anything but an inviting place. It is a dismal town like Iquique, Arica, Paita, and many others on the rainless coast that stretches for hundreds of weary miles down the Pacific. The port is unsheltered and strong south-westerly winds prevail, making the landing in small boats a matter of no little difficulty. The landing-stage or mole belonging to the Peruvian Corporation is the most important feature of the dusty town, for from it all the rich products of the far-distant interior are shipped into the barges which carry them out to the steamers that anchor in the roadstead. The exports are alpaca and sheep’s wool, hides, coca leaves, Peruvian bark, silver, tin, and iron ores. The town itself is built upon steep, rising ground, the roads of which are carpeted with thick layers of ruddy dust, which the wind drives about to the inconvenience of the visitors, although it does not apparently annoy the dirty-looking inhabitants. There are two hotels in the town that offer little choice, and it is a toss-up which is the more deserving of patronage. The houses are all built of wood and painted with colours that soon lose their original hues, for the sun, unmasked by clouds, beats down on them with relentless fury and, combined with the efforts of the dust, contrives to reduce them to a uniform tint of bleached dismalness. The shops expose cheap goods of German manufacture, for all along the Pacific seaboard the irrepressible Teuton is fast obtaining a strong and tenacious foothold. The native market exudes such unmistakable evidences of its contents that only persons with strong stomachs dare venture to make a visual inspection of the wares. Swarthy Indians, enveloped in brilliantly coloured ponchos, lounge on the wharves or in the shade cast by the buildings. The church, built of wood and corrugated iron, in a style absolutely unsuitable to the materials, has two towers surmounted by conical caps that are quite original and absurd. Women sit at little stalls in the gutters or on the pavements, and above their heads little square sunshades stuck on poles give some protection to the medley of fruit in the baskets in front of them. The whole place looks temporary, and one would not be surprised to learn that the authorities were only waiting for funds to lay out a more habitable town. The place has only about 5000 inhabitants, who deserve the sympathy of all right-feeling people. But Mollendo is only a seaport, and the doorway to vast and interesting regions in the interior, many of which are unexplored, and one of which, Bolivia, is still waiting for a proper recognition of its vast resources. The railway to Arequipa and Puno on the Peruvian shore of the highest navigable lake in the world, and to Cuzco, the ancient city of the Incas, has brought these hitherto little-visited centres into closer touch with outside civilisation.

The first part of the journey to Arequipa is through a succession of sand dunes, desolate and bare, stretching away into the distance on all sides. These dunes, crescent-shaped, are in a state of slow motion, moving in the direction of their horns at the rate of about 100 feet in the course of a year, so that they could give a glacier a few thousand years’ start in a race. Towards Arequipa, which is approached through fertile and cultivated land upon which maize and sugar-cane grow, cattle graze, or, driven by natives, tread out the corn. The city is about 122 kilometres from the coast, and lies in a beautiful valley, green and luscious. The elevation of the city at 7600 feet ensures a cooler clime than that left behind in the baked and roasted coast.

Away in the distance the great snow-clad mountain peaks of Misti, Pichupichu, and Charehani tower into the blue vault above. The city in the valley is built largely of the brown lava thrown up by a volcano in the vicinity. With an almost cynical indifference to the terrible forces of nature, the builders of the city have utilised the product of the volcano to protect themselves from the devastating earthquakes to which the whole Pacific slope of the Cordillera is subject. The architecture of Arequipa and Cuzco differs in many respects from that of Lima, for in both the former cities there are many traces of the strong influences that the indigenous art of the country had upon that of the conquerors. The heavy carvings on the façades and doorways of the many churches and convents in Arequipa betray the influence more than the general design, and many ornamental forms are introduced that belong entirely to the New World. The railway from Arequipa crosses the Cordillera at the altitude of 14,600 feet above the sea, and from the Crucero Alto descends through rich pasture lands upon which great flocks of llamas, sheep, alpacas, and the wild vicuna graze.

At the junction Juliaca the line branches, the northern route leading to the ancient Inca capital. This city Cuzco lies between two streams at an altitude of 12,000 feet, and is a great favourite with tourists from the United States, who go in great numbers to see the many interesting remains of the old civilisation. Although much of the old Temple of the Sun which aroused the cupidity of the Spanish invaders has given place to a Jesuit convent, there are still many buildings that retain the massive walls built by the conquered race. The lower portions of most of the houses are good specimens of the fine masonry for which the old builders are distinguished. The lighter construction of the upper stories is of the Spanish period, with many of its characteristic architectural features. The other line, that branches south from Juliaca, leads to Puno, which lies on the shores of Lake Titicaca, where a steamer completes the connection with the Bolivian shore at Guaqui, from whence trains depart for La Paz, the capital of Bolivia. Named after the great Liberator, Simon Bolivar, Bolivia is a large country covering about 597,000 square miles, bounded on the north, south, and east by Brazil, Paraguay, and the Argentine Republic, and shut away from the Pacific seaboard on the west by Peru and Chili. Prior to the assertion of its independence it was known as Upper Peru, and in its early years it was virtually a part of a neighbouring State, from which it derived its name. The country is naturally divided into two portions, the high lands to the westward and the grean plains that roll away to the east. The centre of the country is a fertile plateau which is capable of supporting vast herds of sheep and cattle, and raising all kinds of crops. The mineral wealth of the country is rich, copper and gold being found in considerable quantities. But the staple mineral product is silver, for Bolivia is the third largest producer of silver, and in the mines of Potosi, which have been worked for centuries, there would seem to be a practically inexhaustible supply of that precious metal.

Like so many other of the South American republics, Bolivia possesses undreamt of potentialities for development, but her industry and her commerce with the outside world are sadly hampered for want of a port on the Pacific. Bolivians live in hopes that they will get it one day, not by force of arms, but through the good offices of Chili. Already an arrangement has been arrived at with Brazil under which Bolivia has a better outlet for her products from the north-west. One of her greatest desiderata is to despatch as promptly and cheaply as possible her large and valuable supplies of rubber for shipment to the port of Para.

Bolivia has been called the cradle of civilisation, and long before the Incas in the neighbouring State of Peru founded their kingdom it was inhabited by a cultivated race, who have left behind monuments of their skill in the shape of statues and buildings strongly wrought of carved stone. Whatever the warlike prowess of this primitive folk may have been, it was not sufficiently developed to resist the invasion of the Incas, and when the Spaniards, under the redoubtable Pizarro, entered the country, they found it under the domination of the latter race.

Bolivia may also make the unique boast that on its soil was struck the last blow for South American independence. The victory of Ayacusho, achieved in December, 1824, proved the death-blow to Spanish domination in the sub-continent, and it is therefore a landmark not only in the history of South America, but of the world.

Bolivia may also be proud--if nations should be proud of such things--that she has had more revolutions than any other State even in that part of the globe where revolutions are a favourite pastime.

The Bolivians resemble a certain king in one of Browning’s poems, they have favourites manifold, and shift their ministry

some once a month. The obvious result of this is that the later history of the country makes confused and rather weary reading. One dictator followed another after the collapse of Bolivar’s ambitious dream of establishing a Central South American dictatorship for himself, with the heads of all the other communities subject to his authority. Some of these men, to their credit be it recorded, tried to assume the mantle of the wise ruler, but others were bloodthirsty tyrants. Few of them stand out in bold relief like Francia in Paraguay or Bolivar in New Granada. One of the most celebrated of the bunch was Melgarejo, who in the sixties of the last century abandoned all pretence of governing by any sanction except that of brute force and terror. Although the lives of Bolivians were very insecure, for none of them ever knew when they would be charged with conspiracy against the State and sent to execution, Melgarejo’s regime was not one of undiluted evil. The best points in his rule were exemplified in the application of funds for public purposes, and before his overthrow in 1871 silver production had enormously increased, foreign capital had flowed freely into the country, and the Mollendo Railroad, extending to the head of Lake Titicaca, had been opened.

The war with Chili, in which she joined forces with Peru, ended disastrously for Bolivia, for it entailed the loss of her nitrate territory, and cut her off entirely from the Pacific Ocean.

It is in the retrieving of that highway to the sea that her prosperity in the future lies.

The highlands of Bolivia have been compared with Thibet, the roof of the world, but whilst the Asian tableland consists merely of mountain pastures, that of South America supports towns and populous cities, and affords food for numerous herds of cattle, llamas, vicunas, and sheep, and is covered with harvests of cereals. The mineral wealth of Bolivia lies principally in the western districts, which are consequently the most populous and settled, containing the chief centres of trade at La Paz, Cochabamba, Sucre, Potosi, and Oruro. The eastern provinces of Beni and Santa Cruz cannot as yet point to more than their possibilities, which are vividly suggested in the description of a traveller from the United States, who declared that “the few scattered inhabitants gaze upon a wealth sufficient to pay the national debts of the world.”

The population of the country is something just under three millions. The trade is principally in the hands of Germany and England, but the former country is making far greater headway in the Bolivian markets than are our own merchants and manufacturers. The reason doubtless is that Germany and also France in a lesser degree are taking the trouble to find out what the foreign public really requires.