CHAPTER V

THE JUNGLE IN PARADOX

“There is a strange beast, the which for his great heavinesse, and slownesse in moving, they call _Perico-ligero_, or the little-light-dogge; hee hath three nailes to every hand, and mooves both hand and feete as it were by compasse, and very heavily; it is in face like to a monkie, and hath a shrill crie; it climeth trees, and eates ants.”

FATHER ACOSTA

The uncouth sloth! Can any greater emblem of misery be conceived? He hangs upside down upon a branch like a bundle of rags on a nail. His hair is like dried grass, stiff, with a greenish tinge, and, as might be expected, goes the wrong way. His long arms are jointless, swinging to and fro like the end of a rope. He can turn his head all about, till his round, simple face meets the wind; then he opens his toothless mouth to take it in, giving rise to a tradition that he lives on air. His want of teeth is supplied by long nails--his only means of attack--with which he scrapes out ants. Whether

he lives upon cecropia buds and dew, as Doctor Brehm declares, or upon armies of ants swarming in the hollow stems of the cecropia tree, it is certain that he haunts only that tree, which spreads out broad leaves whose white, lower sides reflect light into the sepulchral shade. It furnishes him with more food than he needs, and food is his only necessity.

The rain pours, he listlessly hugs his branch, a sorry spectacle, emitting from time to time a deep sigh. His eye is dull, he knows no joy, no sorrow. He needs no sleep, no relief from a life which is nothing but respite. The odds seem too great against him to perform the simplest acts of life.

The climax of activity is reached when, like a wad, he falls to the ground, apparently devoid of life.

After a while he unrolls and progresses with circumspection upon closed claws to the next cecropia tree. Then he climbs to the very top, where he begins to eat, supplied with food on the down journey. Hunger compelling, he unbends from a position of unusual discomfort and pushes himself along his branch upside down. Over-cautious in every motion, he never loosens his rigid hold from one limb until securely clamped to the next one. Each movement causes a long, sad yowl of pain. It is amazing that so cutting a sound can issue from his soft mouth.

His weird cry is a jungle symbol--mysterious hint of antediluvian days when the elephantine sloth lifted up a mammoth wail to be taken up by the glyptodon and the dodo.

* * * * *

In the desert man exclaims: “If only there were water! The soil is fertile. There is sunlight and warmth enough to make a tropical paradise. If only there were water!” And so, although he does not exactly worship water as the Yuncas of antiquity did, this man sings secretly in his heart a hymn to the god of water.

Up on the icy highlands man exclaims: “If only there were warmth! The soil is fertile, there is plenty of water, only warmth is lacking to make a paradise. If only there were warmth!” And he sympathizes with the Incas, whose god was the Sun, and waits through the long night-watches until, with his rising, life is renewed.

In the jungle, water brings fertility to a soil bathed in the light and warmth of a tropical sun. It pours down from melting snows of the mountain-tops and gushes from the ground to meet the rain. Here, where man might live with least effort, he squats on the lowest rung of the human ladder, his savage desires satisfied as soon as realized. The sun needs no propitiatory offerings, water needs no exhortation. Invisible powers have conferred all gifts which his mind could imagine or his heart desire.

But in the midst of luxuriant plenty, like the Indian above the mine, poverty-struck for want of the very riches he sits upon, he is merely dying out for lack of everything with which he is surrounded. With a remedy at his command for every ill, he hangs about his neck a string of tapirs’ claws in case of need. As there is lack of nothing to supply his wants, so there are few wants to be supplied. A whole tribe lives on a single species of tree, like insects depending on one fruit or leaf for subsistence, or the sloth hanging on the cecropia tree, which has senses sufficient to appreciate sights and sounds and smells, but remains insensible. The jungle people seem to recognize the likeness and call one another “beast of the cecropia tree.”

As there is surplus of everything here, evil gifts have been bestowed as well. Poisonous insects sting for life; the fierce jaguar and fatal vampire, whose velvet kisses are a death-brand, bite for life; so do snakes; and the huge boa crushes the bones of its victim. The strong attack the weak, the cunning inveigle the unwary. Injurious or beneficent, all must fight for life, joining in the great struggle. Each variety contends with every other, vegetation fights to keep out animals, animals with birds, insects with one another, and all against the water, whose level silently rises over its foes. So man must struggle against nature. The jungle is his only teacher. He takes from it what it offers. He is the mere imitator of the vegetable world, a product of it in modified form. He sees strife in air, earth, and water. His religion can conceive only strife of two extremes, dying and living, evil and good, one injurious, the other beneficial. Evil spirits inhabit birds and beasts and whirlpools of the mighty rivers. The dim forest is filled with powers of destruction. They lurk in the black lizard and less dangerous ones in the parroquets. Since all sickness is brought by evil spirits, it is they to whom prayers are made. Some jungle savages believe in a transformation into animals and name their children for them. If there are any thoughts of a future life, they are in jungle terms. After death these people wish to be turned into animals, which sometimes happens. “On the eighth day a red deer jumped from the grave and ran away into the forest. They did not see the soul enter the deer, but they saw the deer rise from the grave”! Some worship sun and moon, an Inca custom. But the moon with its phases and its weird shadows in the jungle is involved in special mystery. These savages understand the jungle, but facts plain to us compose their mystery.

If a man is sick, something grows near by to set him all right again. They use nature’s remedies against her poisons, as they have learned from birds and beasts to do. They collect various sympathetic medicines, such as teeth of poisonous snakes, and carefully fix them in leaves and tubes of rushes--powerful specifics against headache and blindness. They fill flask-gourds with balsams, and collect odorous gum for incense.

War is their only object lesson, so quite naturally their only preëminence is in the art of killing. The chief cause of war is stealing of women; some are worth as much as a hatchet, some only the price of a knife. In times of fighting the savages howl through a giant reed in blood-curdling discord. They shoot with parrot-feathered cactus-arrows dipped in famous poisons, or thrust through an enemy with a _macana_--a wooden sword as sharp as steel--or fell him with a club of wood like iron. Then they make drums of his skin to serve as warning to his friends. They protect themselves with a shield of creeping plants interwoven, covered with a tapir skin and edged with the feathers of parrots.

The only amicable exchanges between tribes are the poisons done up in reeds into which they will dip the arrows used each against the other. Some poisons, made by women and old men, can kill an animal without injuring his flesh for the use of man. Some make him merely wither away. Some do not take effect until three days after the wound is inflicted.

The whole history of man, beginning with the Stone Age, could be studied among the wild tribes of Amazonian Peru. The largest tribe numbers nearly twenty-five thousand, many but a few families, and one tribe has now not a single member left. Differing each from the other, they are similar only in that they all represent the first steps of human development.

A savage of the jungle perforates his face to insert feathers and shells; he gouges it with sharp flints and rubs in indelible color. He slashes his lips both within and without and stretches his ear-lobes as far as the shoulder. Then he inserts knobs of _chonta_-palm wood. He paints his face yellow and suspends a red bean from his nose. Or he paints his face in the four quarters, blue, yellow, red, and black, and dyes his hair red with _achote_, his body orange with _armatto_, staining it in design with dark juices. The Prios color their teeth; others leave their teeth unstained and wear a long, yellow mantle. The Conibo flattens his head, or that of his child, between boards into fantastic shapes, leaving holes through which the cranium can develop. He leaves single locks of hair on conspicuous promontories. Toucans’ feathers are stuck to them with wax. On days of celebration he dances in ropes of iridescent birds strung through the bills, his bead girdles of barbaric design hung with humming-birds as tassels. He knows no fashion but personal caprice. There is no limit to the vagaries of the world about him, neither are any suggested for his own decoration. Cross-wise over his shoulders he slings long scarfs of brilliantly colored birds hung at the end of chains made of their little leg-bones, along with boxes of poison for his arrow-heads. His necklaces are of the teeth of jaguars, wildcats, and monkeys, or of the curling teeth of the white-lipped peccary. From his anklets and wristlets of heavy, wooden beans he shakes a jungle call, wielding a feather scepter in savage rhythm about the stiff feather halo upon his head.

As might be expected, the jungle savage adores music, if so it may be called. He imitates the cries of forest animals. Some tribes have war songs; then they use a bone flute or a reed. The Aguarunas have a violin with three strings. This is the most intelligent tribe, but they use their superior intelligence in reducing the heads of their enemies. One is often compelled to wonder whether greater brain-development means greater usefulness.

These seem to be the facts: The head of an enemy being cut off, poisons are poured into it, softening the bones so that they can be drawn out through the neck. They are then replaced by red-hot stones to which the head, reduced to one-fifth its original size, adjusts itself in the steam of a bonfire made of roots of certain palms.

A jungle story runs that a scientist from Germany tried to investigate these sinister processes. But his head, in miniature form, was soon stuck upon a pole. It could be recognized by the long, reddish beard, which had retained its original proportions.

To qualify as a warrior a youth must possess at least one reduced head of his own making. As time goes on, he adorns himself with more and more such trophies.

Some similar custom existed on the coast in ancient times, for these little masks have been found in the _huacas_ (grave mounds). The first reduced heads were exhibited in Lima in 1862 under the rare title, “Heads of the Incas”!

The Macas and Jivaros are believed to have this practice as well, and a tribe exists near the Cusicuari, the Rio Negro, and the Orinoco, reported as able to reduce entire bodies in the same manner.

Some tribes preserve their enemies’ hands, others keep their teeth, and some eat their enemies whole. A man speaking a different dialect is eaten like an animal of a different species. The Amahuacas pulverize the bones and eat the ashes in their food, in order to absorb the physical strength as well as the moral virtues of the person gone before. Although they are never eaten, the women of cannibal tribes are said to be more cannibalistic than the men. Prior to such feasts they fatten the prisoners of war, who “rather enjoy the prospect, and gorge themselves to accommodate their keepers. They occupy themselves tranquilly with their duties as slaves without attempting to escape.”

Another practice of the Aguarunas is making the _tundoy_, or _tunduli_, their jungle signal-service. They hollow a tree-trunk and make three holes in it with red-hot stones, then hang it aloft on a high tree, fastening the lower end securely to the ground. Blows upon it with a wooden mallet reverberate as far as ten miles, and form a code, by their swiftness or slowness and their pitch above, between, or below the holes. As a hundred words suffice for a language, so would three tones for a drum of war. Primitive man in the primeval jungle sending blood-curdling signals to reduce the heads of his enemies! Reverberations whose wave-lengths are intercepted on their echoing passage through the forest by the flight of royal butterflies and challenged by the chatter of antediluvian apes!

The weaker tribes are actually, not in name merely, pushed back into the woods. Many traits in us find a literal, physical parallel in them. We speak of “licking the dust;” in the jungle there are tribes of earth-eating savages. A civilized man in the jungle learns their literal ways. He puts gunpowder on the bite of a serpent and cauterizes by igniting it. Having no language adequately to express the venomous thoughts they may feel, they use poisoned arrows. They literally reduce an enemy’s head, and are more humane than we, doing it after death!

The Inje-inje represent the Stone Age, both in their tools and language. They come out of inaccessible hiding-places to perform their primeval rites by full moon and are the least known of all the savage tribes. This small tribe of the Inje-inje, whose name is the sum of their language, need only a word to steer their craft through life. As has been said, the development of language from the primitive Inje-inje to the somewhat developed Aguaruna can be studied in this mysterious place. No tribe can count further than ten; most of them use only a movement of the fingers. Though there are hundreds of “languages,” not one Amazonian tribe can write.

* * * * *

In temperate zones nature is to be relied upon. Roots grow in the ground, branches and leaves in the air, flowers come forth at certain seasons, and fruit follows. Trees give us shade in which no fever lurks. Vegetables do not relieve agony and want, as insects and plants do not cause it. No animals lie in wait to seize us, no snakes to uncurl and engulf us. Rain comes in measurable quantities. We live on a tempered, miniature scale. We can afford to neglect reckoning with nature, for we understand her laws, and we direct her by that understanding.

But what can be said of the jungle? Had we thought of gardens as suitably placed in tree-tops? Or of an edge of wood as sharp as an edge of steel? Here accustomed flowers grow as shrubs, and shrubs as trees. It is a region where insects are mistaken for birds, where animals imitate a flower on the branch where they like to rest; where plants have fragrance, and blossoms burst forth from roots or rough bark; where birds gain protection by assuming the dazzling colors of tropical sunlight, and butterflies by the warning colors of their neighbors. It is a region where roots grow in the air; oils, wax, and honey are secreted by leaves; where the death of anything gives new, vital impulse to something else, and parasites are as significant as their supporters. Curious region, where there are night-flying butterflies and softly-feathered moths to fly in the daytime; where everything is reversed: animals, whose normal is upside down, prefer tree-tops to the ground, birds of prey are frightened by the painting on a butterfly’s wings, caterpillars sting, spiders kill birds, and water is the principal element of the land.

Dramatic indeed is the silent jungle. The insect is imprisoned in the throat of the orchid, whose honey it had been unwarily seeking. Trees distil venom. Plants have fangs. Perfumes affect the brain. Cold, green creepers blister like fire. From vampires which suck your blood as you sleep, to the touch of a vine which paralyzes your entire body, the jungle knows all modes of attack and furnishes the cure for every ill it has created.

What can be taken as the symbol of the jungle? The snake, mysterious, deadly, bound together in savage traditions with lightning, wind, fire-streams of lava, and river-whirlpools, those emblems of serpent treachery? Or butterflies, with their symbolism of life-recurrent? Or the orchid, emblem of wayward unwholesomeness? In the troops of monkeys which skip, swing, bounce from tree to tree, throwing themselves to be caught by prehensile tails, is its exuberance. In the honey dripping from hollow trees and running off unused, is typified its surplus. Iridescence darting from insects and from birds, rainbows glinting over cataracts or caught by the equatorial sunshine from misty hillsides, might be its symbol; or the beneficence of jungle trees and bushes.

Not one would be more or less typical than any other. All are equally emblematic. If we think of caprice, there is law; of life, there is death; of beauty, there is horror. When each seems most dominant, then its opposite is most uncontrolled.

The seed dies that the plant may live; the blossom withers that the fruit may set; the worm vanishes that the butterfly may spread its wide wings and fly. Plus and minus signs are never far apart indeed.

CONCLUSION

Peru is the Land of the Sun. Its light and heat descend upon the coast with tropical fury, reducing the desert to a shimmering vibration which breathes back scorching odors toward the sun. The sun alone makes life possible upon the arctic heights where, in Inca days, it was worshipped in name as well as in fact. Yet beyond the mountain-barrier the same constant sun has no longer undisputed sway. The jungle is “almost uninhabitable through too great abundance of waters.” Peru is the Land of Water, without which the desert is barren, because of which the jungle is luxuriant.

But the sun, the god of Peru, controls the water. It can combine with its opposing element. It is able to transfigure even the rain, which, like human hopes, becomes iridescent because the sun shines. The rainbow is a willing Ariel, the servant of each, retreating from the sun only as far as the rain allows and illumining the rain only as far as the sun permits.

The rainbow is visible nature’s alphabet. In terms of it are spelled sky and sea, trees, birds, and flowers. It shoots the desert-mists and twinkles along the streams which intersect it. It fearlessly embraces the austere crags of the mountain-peaks and shimmers in the craters of volcanoes.

Entire it flings itself from the heart of a shower, follows the waves of the sea along, or glints on a butterfly’s wings or from a humming-bird’s throat.

It reveals the elements of the stars, it lists the ingredients of the sun, and sets down upon its ephemeral tablet the red-hot vapors rising from the desert. Even the breath of the volcano has a place in the rainbow alphabet.

It is hard to avoid so fundamental a thing. Close your eyes in the sunlight, and its whole scale is thrown in glistening repetition across your own eyelashes.

Even the ultra-violet--the unknown, the unperceived--must be discussed in rainbow terms, the only letters the eye’s alphabet knows.

The Incas chose it for an empire’s emblem and dedicated to it a temple close to that of the Sun.

It symbolized to the Spaniards the astounding country which had fallen as by miracle into their grasp, the land of mystery, whose romantic wealth and dazzling promises encircled them as with the rainbow arch, and, like it, receded as they advanced.

Peru still keeps the rainbow symbol. Many-colored mysteries hover about the man who leans over its glittering jewel-casket. And wherever the ends of its bright bow touch the desert, flit over the mountain-tops, or sweep across the jungle, nature’s unexplored secrets lie concealed.

There is, however, a difference. For the rainbow-arch which mingles sunlight and water is only an evanescent promise, vanishing almost as quickly as it can flash a new gleam of hope into a human heart. But Peru, with its changing beauties and its mysterious allurements, is a fact. The pot of gold which it promises is real.

THE END

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Of all the general works on Peru none has greater weight than _Peru; Beobachtungen und Studien_ (1893) by E. W. Middendorf. He has exploited the country in a large, three-volume work with such German thoroughness that hardly a fact has been left for subsequent writers to disclose. I have referred to it constantly. Other shorter, general studies of the country are Von Tschudi’s _Reisen durch Südamerika_, giving much attention to folk-lore, and _Twenty Years’ Residence in South America_ (1825) by W. B. Stevenson, secretary to Lord Cochrane. He traveled far and wide in Peru and made observations in regard to remote details. Typical of descriptive writings is _Two Years in Peru_ (1876) by T. J. Hutchinson. Various general works by Bernard Moses and his publications in the _University of California Chronicle_ are valuable, notably his work on the produce of the mines.

Reliable observations on ruins are those made by E. G. Squier in his _Peru: Travel and Exploration in the Land of the Incas_, by Mariano Rivero y Juan de Tschudi in _Antiguedades Peruanas_, and by Charles Wiener in _Pérou et Bolivie_. Studies of ruins in particular localities have been made by many archaeologists; for example, on Tiahuanacu, L. Angrand, in _Antiquités Américaines_, though his book is now out of date, Adolph F. Bandelier in his _Islands of Titicaca and Koati_, Max Uhle, with whom I visited some of the ruins, on Tiahuanacu and Pachacamac, and Hiram Bingham in recent explorations.

Sir Clements Markham has spent more than fifty years studying every stage of Peru’s history from the time when it was a land of myth to the Chilian war. His researches as well as his careful translations have been published in a series of volumes. Authorities on various periods of the history are legion. Relating to pre-Inca times, in which studies of myths and theories of ruins are intermingled, original sources are the _Memorias Historiales_ of Montesinos, first published in French in 1840, and Cieza de Leon, the soldier, whose _Crónica del Perú_ (1553) is authority on the Incas. Some modern scientists who have written about the pre-Inca period are Ernest Desjardins in his _Pérou avant la Conquête Espagnole_, Tylor’s _Primitive Culture_, Meyen’s _Uber die Ureinwohner von Peru_, and Brinton in his _Myths of the New World_ and other works. Many persons are studying the legends, as, for instance, Professor Liborio Zerda of the University at Bogotá. The _Miscelaneas Australes_ of Miguel Cavello Balboa, a soldier, is an original source for knowledge of the remote Chimus. _Das Reich der Chimus_ by Otto von Buchwald, and especially _Das Muchik oder die Chimu Sprache_ by Doctor Middendorf, who quotes largely from Calancha and Carrera, are modern authorities.

In regard to the Incas: As a background there are the old, picturesque chronicles which read like romances, but on which reposes most of the knowledge that modern authorities have corroborated in regard to the earlier inhabitants of Peru. These contemporary accounts have to be carefully studied in order to distinguish fact from fiction. Next to the _Crónica_ of Cieza de Leon are the _Comentarios Reales_ of Garcilasso de la Vega, in whose own veins the turbulent blood of the Conquistador mingled with the blood of the Sun. During his lifetime the imperial race of his mother was exterminated by the fierce adventurers becoming grandees, of whom his father was one. His book has the value of personal reminiscence. His enthusiasm adds a certain glamor; but even if his unique work has been spurned as an Utopian romance, it has been reluctantly accredited as the foundation of facts set forth by its critics. _De las Antiguas Gentes del Perú_ by Bartolomé de las Casas, works by Diego Fernandez, Betanzos, Oviedo, Sarmiento, Cobo, Ondegardo, Molina’s _Fables and Rites of the Incas_, and the great _Miscelaneas_ of Balboa must be consulted. Many of them have been translated by Sir Clements Markham and published by the Hakluyt Society of London.

It is bewildering to try to single out one or two modern works upon the Incas, for their name is legion. The definitive authority in English is of course Sir Clements Markham, whose _Incas of Peru_ (1910) has followed numberless more detailed works of his own upon the subject.

_Der Belus oder Sonnendienst auf den Anden oder Kelten in America_ by Frenzel, presents one field of theory which observations on the remains of the Incas’ walls suggest. The temptation to interpret by means of analogies to other remote civilizations is withstood with difficulty. From John Ranking and his _Historical Researches on the Conquest of Peru by the Mongols_, to Ignatius Donnelly and his evidence in favor of its conquest by the Egyptians via Atlantis, Peru has given an unlimited field for speculation. Lord Bacon believed, by the way, that Peru was a proud kingdom in the time of Atlantis. A striking example of immense erudition expended on a futile, though technically well-supported, fancy, is Rudolph Falb’s _Das Land der Inca_. Painstaking scholars are tracing out similarities between the Peruvian language and the Semitic and Phoenician tongues--“astounding affinities,” of which common stems are purest in Quichua, so that the human race seems to have emanated from the tops of the Andes; similarities, too, between Peruvians and the long-bearded Druids whose rites were chiefly sun-worship; they also kept memoranda with strings tied in different knots, like the _quipus_, and built vast structures of stone without tools. There are analogies between Peruvians and Hindus, who worshipped the Sun as Rama and called their first legislator Vaivasaonta, the Son of the Sun, and between Peru and Farther India. The Seccos have been called the Malays of Bolivia. There are analogies between Peruvians and Chinese, whose royal color was also yellow, whose peculiar god from earliest times was the Sun, who used _quipus_, who had terrace-cultivation and irrigation-systems like those of the Incas, who used foot-messengers for royal emissaries, and brought all the gold and silver of the realm for the beautifying of royal temples. “The buildings, religious institutions, division of time, and mystic notions,” which “seem in Asia to indicate the very dawn of civilization,” are found here upon the Andes. Whether there was intercommunication, or whether such facts merely suggest the instinctive discovery of all peoples, their origin is wrapped only in mystery--a veil whose lightest corner is only just lifting.

But to continue with the succeeding periods of history. Spanish vice-regal days and the civil wars of the conquerors, the fleets of treasure, the Inquisition, have been the subject of romantic histories. Besides Prescott’s well-loved _Conquest of Peru_, William Robertson’s _History of America_, published more than a century ago, gives a concise, general survey since the Conquest. Drake’s _Worlde Encompassed_ and Southey’s account of Drake’s voyage in his _English Seamen_, as well as Froude’s, together with various Hakluyt publications, are authorities for freebooter days. Also there are such cold authorities as the Calendars of State Papers of many countries, E. Armstrong’s _The Emperor Charles V_, and for the Inquisition, H. C. Lea, Vicuna Mackenna, and Ricardo Palma. The reports to the Royal Council of the Indies of the sixteenth century enter into minute details. Father Acosta was the historian of the third council. His _Historia Natural y Moral de las Indias_, first published in 1590, is an indispensable book, although it has borne the reproach of being superficial.

The French Academicians came to Quito in 1735 to measure an arc of meridian, an enterprise which d’Alembert considered the greatest ever attempted by science. One of these scientists, La Condamine, made extensive studies in quinine, named cinchona for the Countess of Chinchón, vice-queen, and one of the first to feel its beneficent power. His _Voyage fait dans l’Intérieur de l’Amérique Méridionale_ (1745), and the _Voyage Historique de l’Amérique Méridionale_ by Antonio y Jorje Juan de Ulloa (Spanish edition in 1748, French in 1752), who accompanied the French expedition, both aim at truthfulness. Another delightful as well as dependable work of the eighteenth century is the _Voyage dans la Mer du Sud_ by Amédée François Frézier (1716). In particular must be mentioned Lozano’s _Histoire des Tremblements de Terre arrivés à Lima_. Hales of the Royal Society of London has added to this French edition of 1752 accounts of Lima in his day, trustworthy as his observations on the geology and meteorology of the coast.

Such facts as I have stated in regard to the natural history of the coast are vouched for by Ferdinand von Hochstetter, _Die Erdbebenfluth im Pazifischen Ocean_, Friedrich Goll, _Die Erdbeben Chiles_, a remote work on _El Desierto de Atacama_, Humboldt’s _Vues des Cordillères_, Darwin’s _Journal of Researches_, and the _Voyage of the Beagle_, the three latter describing the natural history of the mountains as well. One or two of Sir Martin Conway’s books, Alfons Stübel, _Die Vulkanberge von Ecuador_, and Neveu-Lemaire, _Les Lacs des Hauts Plateaux de l’Amérique du Sud_, may also be added. In describing the animals of Peru I have as authority Brehm’s _Thierleben_.

Ricardo Palma’s _Revista de Lima_ and Carlos Romero’s _Revista Histórica de Lima_, Manuel A. Fuentes’ _Estadística General de Lima_, published in Paris in English as _Lima_ in 1866, give interesting information in regard to that city.

When it comes to the Amazonian wonderland no exaggeration could compete with fact. But I have not withstood the temptation wholly on that account! There is Louis Agassiz’ _A Journey in Brazil_, H. W. Bates’ _A Naturalist on the River Amazon_, two books by Alfred Russel Wallace, _Tropical Nature_ and _Life on the Amazon_, Raimondi’s _El Departemento de Loreto_ as well as his _El Peru_, Robert Southey’s _History of Brazil_, and the publications of the _Sociedad Geográfica de Lima_.

I am happy to acknowledge my indebtedness to Mr. Wilberforce Eames of the New York Public Library for access to its _Americana_; to Dr. Martin and to Dr. Stevenson of the _Hispanic Society of America_; to Mr. C. L. Chester for many of my pictures; to Dr. F. S. Archenhold, Director of the Treptow _Sternwarte_ at Berlin for the freedom of his library, where I found most of the German works consulted, and to Don Ricardo Palma, former Librarian of the _Biblioteca Nacional de Lima_, for permission to inspect many of his rare books and manuscripts.

INDEX

_Achachibas_ (piles of stones), 222.

Acllahuasi (convent of Sun-Virgins), 207.

Acosta, 48, 80, 174, 179, 226, 229, 242, 280, 303.

Agassiz, L., 5, 304.

Aguarunas, 289, 291, 292.

Alameda (Lima), 106, 107; (La Paz), 163.

Almagro, Diego de, 73, 89.

Alpacas, 54, 157, 226. _See_ llamas, huanacus, vicuñas.

Amahuacas, 290.

_Amautas_ (wise men), _See_ Incas.

Amazon, 5, 6, 10, 123, 124, 141, 233, 236, 237, 245-248, 304. _See_ jungle.

Amazons, 236-237.

Amiel, 61.

Andalusia, New, 84.

Andes, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 15, 30, 36, 43, 53, 59, 60, 123, 134, 175, 247, 248, 301, 302; animals of, 155-158; birds of, 168; dangers of, 147-149; description of, 143-148; lakes of, 166-167; light in, 149-150; mines of, 152-154; storm in, 150-151; valleys of, 165, 240-246, 265. _See_ condor, cordillera, Incas, Indians, mines, _puna_, valleys.

_Andenes_ (terraces), 183.

Antarctic, _See_ ocean, Pacific.

Ant-eater, 56, 263, 272.

Antis, 197.

Aqueducts, _See_ irrigation.

Argentina, 121.

Arianza, Juan de, 92.

Arica, 78.

Armada, 91.

Armadillo, 263, 272.

Armatambo, 104.

Atahualpa, 67, 69-71, 77, 136, 188, 215.

Atlantic, _See_ ocean.

_Auto de fe_, _See_ Inquisition.

Aztlan, 113.

Badeor, Federico, 79.

Balboa, 40, 300, 301.

_Balsa_ (boat of reeds), 41, 48, 168, 234.

Bandelier, A. F., 234, 299.

Bats, 47, 243, 273.

Betanzos, 176.

Bezoar stone, 225.

Bingham, Hiram, 161, 299.

Bolivia, 265. _See_ Tiahuanacu.

Borax, 32.

Bougainvillea, 35, 57, 59, 125.

Boussingault, 251.

Brazil, 229, 304.

Brehm, 264, 281, 304.

Bridges, swinging, 123, 165, 185.

Brittany, 81, 164, 265.

Buccaneers, 81, 236. _See_ El Dorado, freebooters, pirates.

Buenos Aires, 85.

Bull-fights, 7, 16, 87, 139.

Butterflies, 59, 65, 121, 125, 261, 273-279.

Cacafuego, 82.

_Cacique_ (chieftain), 196, 199, 235.

Cajamarca, 69, 71, 186.

Cajamarquilla, 104.

Calancha, 50, 300. _See_ Chimus.

Callao, 15, 85, 86, 100, 101.

_Camarones_ (crayfish), 121.

Candia, Pedro de, 68.

_Cantut_ (flower of Incas), 172, 200.

Caras, 197.

_Carbunculo_ (mythical animal), 273.

Carnac, 164.

Carranza, Angela, 93.

Carvajal, 74.

Casma, 27.

Cavillaca, 44.

_Cazuela_ (soup), 24, 109.

Cecropia, 281, 283.

Cerro de Pasco, 153.

Chancas, 199.

Chanchan, _See_ Chimus.

Chachapoyas, 198.

Chasca, _See_ Dawn.

_Chasqui_ (runners), 184. _See_ Sun, messengers of the.

_Cheireoque_ (bird), 129.

Chibchas, 197.

_Chicha_ (beverage), 45, 69, 171, 180, 207, 210, 212, 222.

Chile, 54, 89, 121, 129, 197.

Chimus, 47-52, 186, 300.

Chincha Islands, _See_ guano.

Chinchaycocha, Lake of, 166.

Chinchilla, 4, 24, 155.

_Chirimoya_ (fruit), 53, 57.

Chorillos, 103.

_Chulpas_ (towers of the dead), 184.

Churches, 21, 78, 87-88, 97, 99, 100, 111, 112, 138, 215. _See_ convents, Dominicus, Franciscans, Indians, Inquisition, Jesuits, Lima, Santa Rosa, Spain.

_Cinchona_ (quinine), 6, 251, 303.

_Ciruelas_ (fruit), 23, 62.

Civilizations, ancient, _See_ Indian races.

Coal, 7, 168.

Coast, aborigines of, 37; birds of, _see_ ocean; characteristics of, 3, 4, 16-18; climate of, 29-30; geology of, 15, 20, 40, _see_ earthquake; inhabitants of, 15-16; towns of, 21-24. _See_ desert.

Coati, 172.

_Coca_ (cocaine), 6, 93, 181, 207, 212, 224.

Columbus, 76, 233.

Con, 30, 175, 177, 178.

Condamine, 236, 303.

Condor, 6, 140, 144, 157-158, 160, 199, 210.

Condorcanqui, _See_ Tupac Amaru.

Coniapuyara, 236.

Combos, 287.

Conquerors, _See_ Spaniards.

Conquest, Spanish, bibliography of, 302-303.

Convents, closed, 114-119; open, 113-114, _see_ Franciscans; of Sun-Virgins, _see_ Sun, Virgins of the.

Cordillera, 4, 72, 77, 103, 131, 227, 303. _See_ Andes.

_Corequenque_ (bird), 190.

Coricancha, _See_ Sun, temples of the.

Cotton, 6, 32, 35, 43, 52.

_Coya_ (wife of Inca), 204, 207.

_Coyaraymi_ (marriage-day), 207.

_Cuculis_ (desert doves), 122.

_Cueca_ (dance), 58.

Cuntisuyu, 186.

_Curacas_ (governors), 211, 212.

_Cushma_ (garment), 237.

Cusicuari, 290.

Cuzco, 67, 166, 174, 178, 179, 182, 184, 196, 197, 199, 200, 204, 206, 210, 217, 220, 223.

Darwin, 169, 254, 303.

Dawn (Chasca), 203, 205; lodgings of the, 178.

Desert, 3, 4, 5, 25-26; aborigines of, 37; climate of, 29-30, _see garuas_; emptiness of, 30; legends of, 36; lifelessness of, 30-31; phenomena of, 26-29; character of, 32; rivers of, _see_ rivers; ruins of, 35; showers in, 31; valleys of, _see_ valleys; vultures of, _see gallinazos_.

Desaguadero, 169.

Dominicus (Santo Domingo), 88, 116, 117, 223.

Drake, Francis, 82, 302.

Dürer, Albrecht, 77.

Earthquake, 4, 15, 27-29, 41, 44, 55, 63, 67, 99-102.

Ecuador, 71, 197.

El Dorado, 85, 234-236.

Elizabeth, Queen, 82.

Elmo, fire of Saint, 167.

Enciza, 270.

_Encomienda_ (tax), 91.

_Escandalosa_ (bush), 62.

Eten, 49.

Falb, Rudolf, 163, 301.

Fierro, Pancho, 130.

Fish-worship, 40, 41, 44, 51. _See_ Chimus.

Fishes’ eyes, 17.

Franciscans, 21, 105, 107-109, 139, 153.

Freebooters, 20, 82. _See_ El Dorado, buccaneers, pirates.

_Gallinazos_ (vultures), 21, 32, 43.

_Garuas_ (mists), 30, 105. _See_ desert, climate of the.

Gold and silver, 9, 27, 51, 56, 64-66, 68, 71, 76-83, 84, 90, 152-155, 171, 182, 193, 199, 204-207. _See_ Incas, Spaniards, Sun, Treasure.

Golden Hynde, 81, 82.

_Granadilla_ (fruit of passion-flower), 240.

Guano, 19-20, 27, 56, 76.

Guavas, 24, 57, 61, 62, 125, 133.

_Guayabas_ (fruit), 23.

Guayaquil, 85.

Guatavitá, 234, 235.

Guenelette, 9, 244.

Hassel, Georg von, 233.

Heads, reduced, 289-290.

Heredia, José-Maria de, 9.

_Huaca cachu_ (plant of the grave), 222.

_Huacas_ (grave mounds), 290.

Huacho, salt lakes of, 32.

_Huacos_ (objects in _huacas_), 73, 126-129.

Huadca, 104.

Hualpa, 153.

_Huanacus_ (wild llama), 157.

Huancayo, 153.

Huayna Ccapac, 66, 166, 209. _See_ Incas.

_Huerequeque_ (bird), 22.

Huguenot hermit, 104.

Huira Capcha, 153.

Humboldt, A. von, 81, 161, 169, 184, 185, 235, 303.

Humming-birds, 57, 65, 132, 146, 160, 172, 243, 263-267, 270.

Iguana, 35, 240.

Incas, aeroplane named for, 139; _amautas_, 163, 215; analogies to other races, 301-302; arms of, 205; books about, 300-301; bridges of, 185; boundaries of, 20; campaigns of, 40, 49, 195-197; at Chanchan, 47, 49, 51; chinchillas valued by, 155; clothes of, 189, 207; coca, divine plant of, 181; conquest of, foretold, 66-67; contemporaries of, 37; court of, 199; description of, 70, 160; in desert, 39, 47; distinctive marks of, 189-191; divinity of, 188-189; dramas of, 136; empire of, 197-199; festivals of, 208, 210-213; flute of, 135; gold of, 7, 64-65, 76; human sacrifices of, 211; irrigation works of, 186; in jungle, 231-232, 285; last of, 214-221; laws of, 19, 193-194; llamas worshipped by, 157; male title, 205; mercury, a mystery to, 152; messengers of the, 192; myths of, 175-179; Nature, teacher of, 183; origin of, 178-179; Pachacamac spared by, 41, 42; attitude toward Pachacamac, 177; pageants of, 163; passion-flower carried by, 58; pleasure gardens of, 165; pleasure houses of, 185; predecessors of, 160-162; rainbow emblem of, 206, 298; roads of, 36, 40, 184-185; subjects of, 66, 191-193; Sun, god of, 34, 42, 176, 282; thunderbolt in palace of, 67; Titicaca, Island of, 170-173; tribute to, 192-195; vicuña fur worn by, 24, 156; worshipped by Indians, 174. _See_ Atahualpa, Huayna Ccapac, Manco Ccapac, Sayri Tupac, Tupac Amaru, Uiracocha, Yupanqui, also gold and silver, and Sun.

Inca Rocca, 231.

Indians, characteristics of, 221-224; called Children of Israel, 93; Christianity of, 223-224; near Eten, 49; saying about God of, 28; horses terrify, 72; lift chain of Huayna Ccapac, 166; Incas’ attitude toward, 195; Incas’ buildings benefit, 187; punishment of, 192; death of Incas witnessed by, 217-219; Incas worshipped by, 174; of jungle, 283-292; language of, _see_ Quichua; legends of, 36, 174-181, 244; the llama, an interpretation of, 225-227; melancholy of, 135; mines of, 153-154; mothers of, 112; music of, _see yaravís_; poverty of, 8; prehistoric races of, 3, 17, 19, 32, 36, 38, 42, 52, 55, 122, 146, 160, 161, 187; reed vessels of, _see balsa_; revolts of, 215-216, 220-221; Sachsahuaman built by, 201; attitude toward Spaniards, 72, 214; Spaniards copy, 83; first encounters with Spaniards, 68-71; Spaniards’ treatment of, 89-91; cure _surumpe_, 149; treasure concealed by, 80; vicuña hunts of, 156; warriors, 86; _yaravís_, 134. _See_ Aguarunas, Chancas, Chachapoyas, Chimus, Incas, Inje-injes, Muratos, Nahumedes, Yuncas.

Indies, 73, 77, 79, 80, 81.

Inje-injes, 239, 292.

Inquisition, 91-99, 104, 302, 303.

Inti (Sun), 42, 203. _See_ Sun.

Inti-cancha (Cori-cancha), 66, 204, 206. _See_ Sun, temples of the.

Iquitos, 123, 125.

Irrigation, ancient systems of, 50, 52, 55, 89, 101, 103, 104, 161, 183, 186-187, 192, 193.

Isles, of Pearls, 89; of Solomon, 85.

Islay, Pampa of, 32.

Jaguars, 68, 129, 194, 198, 199, 210, 234, 235, 243, 244-245, 284.

_Jalca_ (table-land), 3. _See puna._

Jauja, 71.

Jesuits, 72, 111, 237. _See_ San Pedro, churches.

Jivaros, 290.

Juan Fernandez, Islands of, 121.

Jungle, a land of adventure, 231-239; Amazon basin, 246-249; animals of, 271-273, 280-282; appearance of, from above, 239; approach to, from Andes, 240-246; birds of, 241; butterflies of, 273-279; characteristics of, 3-6, 10; color of, 261; Columbus in, 233-234; present conditions in, 238; gloom of, 259; heat in, 259; humming-birds of, 263-267; Incas defied by, 197; Incas in, 231-232; insects of, 262, 270-271; legends of, 244-246; lianas of, 251; rhythmic life of, 258; loam from, 183; Jesuits in, 237-238; orchids of, 253-255; paradoxes of, 292-295; parasites of, 253; largest part of Peru, 3; perfume of, 269-270; rain in, 29, 248-249; savages of the, 10, 18, 283-292; no seasons in, 258-259; silence of day in, 268; night sounds in, 270-271; Spaniards in, 234-236; trees of, 57, 250-251; vegetation in, 250-259; warfare of vegetation in, 255-257.

La Paz, 163.

Lea, H. C., 95, 303. _See_ Inquisition.

Leon, Cieza de, 65, 185, 300.

Lima, 84-140; Alameda, 107; bells, city of, 110-113; bishop of, 93; books about, 304; churches of, 87-88; climate of, 104-105; City of Kings, 3, 86, 90, 99, 214; collections in, 125-126; composer of national opera in, 133-138; contrasts in, 138-140; convents of, 107-109, 113-120; destruction of, in 1746, 99-102; dinner party in, 121-125; galleons of, 77; Geographical Society of, 237, 304; reduced heads exhibited in, 290; Incas in, 215; Inquisition in, 91-99; lady of seventeenth century in, 106-107; national librarian in, 129-132; market of, 139; milk-women of, 140; Paséo Colón, 140; Spanish splendor of, 7, 84, 85, 86, _see_ gold and silver; surroundings of, 103-105; university in, 140. _See_ Spaniards.

Lisle, Lord, 79.

Llamas, prehistoric carvings of, 55; drove of, 58; Christian sacrifice of, 223; Incas’ sacrifice of, 207, 211; Incas’ talismans, 222; Incas’ use of, 160; Incas’ worship of, 157; an interpretation of Indians, 224-227; in Lima, 140; ransom of Atahualpa, 71. _See_ vicuñas.

_Llautu_ (fringe of Inca), 190, 207. _See_ Incas, clothes of.

Lopez, Francisco, 65.

Loti, Pierre, 1.

Loveday, G., 79.

Lurin, 43, 47.

Macas, 290.

_Mamacunas_, _See_ Sun, Virgins of the.

Mama Ocllo, 179.

_Mamayacu_ (mother of waters), 245, 259-261.

Madera, 233.

Madre de Díos, 231.

_Maguey_ (plant), 242-243.

Manco Ccapac, 174, 176, 178, 179, 189, 233. _See_ Incas, Sun.

Manoa, 236.

_Mantas_ (head-shawls), 22, 108.

Markham, Sir Clements, 300, 301.

Marmontel, 9.

Marmoset, 249.

Mastodon, 38, 169, 263.

Maui, 37.

_Médanos_ (sand-dunes), 33-35.

Megalithic ruins, _See_ Tiahuanacu, Sachsahuaman.

Mercury, 144, 152.

Mexico, 128, 154.

Middendorf, 96, 236, 299, 300.

Mines, 5, 6, 7, 10, 27, 39, 90, 91, 152-155. _See_ gold and silver.

Mirage, 26, 57, 147.

Mishagua, 232.

_Mita_ (tax), 91.

Mochica, 49. _See_ Chimus.

Monkeys, 9, 45, 242, 288.

Monuments, _See_ ruins.

Moon, (Si), (Quilla), 34, 47, 49, 50, 67, 72, 172, 203-205, 212.

Morgado, Alonzo, 79.

Mother of Waters, _See mamayacu._

Mountains, _See_ Andes.

Mountain-sickness, _See soroche._

Mummies, 42, 44-46, 125, 204.

Muratos, 237.

Mutayces, 233.

Myths, 36, 174-181.

Nahumedes, 237.

Negro, Rio, 290.

Nitrate, 27, 32, 54, 56, 61, 62, 77.

Ocean, Atlantic, 29, 168, 238, 248. Pacific, 15, 44, 158; Antarctic current of, 30; argosies on, 77-78; birds of, 16-20, 28, 56, 247; influence of, on climate, 30, 105; islands of, 121, 265; pirates on, 81-83; maker of terraces, 183; tidal waves, 29, 100; winds of, 33; worship of as Ni, 48.

Ollanta, 133, 136, 137.

Orchids, 253-255.

Orcos, Lake of, 166-167.

Ore, Geronimo de, 177.

Orellana, 236.

_Organista_ (bird), 249.

Orinoco, 233, 236, 290.

_Pacay_ (fruit), 23, 57.

Paccari-tampu, 178, 179.

Pachacamac, 40-47, 48, 148, 174, 177, 178, 214, 218, 299.

_Paichi_ (fish), 247.

Palma, Ricardo, 129-132, 303, 304.

_Palta_ (alligator-pear), 57, 122, 198.

Paraguay, 107, 237.

Parrots, 45, 185, 240-241.

Passion-flower, 50, 58, 113, 128. _See granadilla._

Pastasa, 237.

Patagonia, 37, 62, 265.

Paucartampu, 231.

Paul III, 95.

Paytiti, 233.

Peccaries, 248, 288.

Pedro, San, 111, 112. _See_ Jesuits.

Petroleum, 32.

Philae, 164.

Philip II, 24, 92, 216, 217.

Pica, 53-63.

_Picante_ (sauce), 23, 60.

Pirates, 76, 81-83. _See_ buccaneers, freebooters, El Dorado.

Pisco, Candelabrum of, 20-21.

Pizarro, Francisco, 69, 70, 73, 140. Gonzalo, 89, 236. Hernando, 41.

Plague, bubonic, 21.

Plata, Duque de la, 86.

Pliny, 152.

_Poncho_ (cloak), 57, 221.

Poopo, Lake of, 169.

Potosí, 78, 154.

Prescott, 302.

Prios, 287.

Puma, 45, 171, 194, 243.

_Puna_ (table-land), 3, 4, 31, 137, 146-147, 150-151, 156, 184, 227, 247. _See_ Andes.

_Quebradas_ (gorges), 165.

_Quena_ (flute), 131, 135, 224.

_Quichua_ (language of Indians), 134, 175, 176, 221, 301.

Quick-silver, _See_ mercury.

Quinine, _See cinchona._

_Quipus_ (system of knots), 69, 156, 160, 191, 302.

Quito, 303.

Races, _See_ Indians.

Rainbow, (_cuychi_), 159, 191, 206, 296-298; lunar, 60.

Raleigh, 76, 236.

Rig-Veda, 202.

Rimac, 66, 103, 104.

Rivers, buried, 4, 31, 54, 55. _See_ irrigation, valleys.

Rosa, Santa, 47, 102, 114-120.

Rubber, 6, 10, 238.

Ruins, 10, 35, 42, 43, 46, 51, 104, 160, 161, 162-164, 182-187, 299. _See_ Chanchan, Pachacamac, Sachsahuaman, Tiahuanacu.

Sachsahuaman, 179, 200-201, 208, 223.

Salcamayhua, 175.

_San Benito_, (mantle), 98.

Sayri Tupac, 214, 215.

Seals, 18, 37.

Seville, 79.

Shelley, 13.

Shore, _See_ coast.

Silver and gold, _See_ gold and silver, mines.

Sloth, 263, 273, 280-282.

_Soroche_ (mountain-sickness), 72, 148.

Soto, Hernando de, 69.

South Sea Islands, 164.

Southey, Robert, 85, 302, 304.

Spain, 74; cost to, of El Dorado, 85; gold, a curse to, 76-83; Inquisition in, 95; missionaries of, 8, 50; Peru as near unto heaven as, 9; vicuña garments taken to, 24, 189. _See_ Andalusia, Seville, viceroys.

Spaniards, Arab blood of, 7-8; arrival of, 68-73; conquerors, 24, 49, 72, 76; coca spoken of by, 181; coming foreshadowed, 66-67; greed of, 160; at Guatavitá, 235; Incas as treated by, 214-221; Inca empire destroyed by, 198; Indians as treated by, 89-91, 220, 221; in jungle, 236; mines of, 154, _see_ mines; pirates harass, 82; rainbow a symbol to, 298; treasure sought by, 79, 167, 171; viceroy served by, 85. _See_ Almagro, Candia, Carvajal, _cinchona_, gold and silver, Indians, Orellana, Philip II, Pisco, Pizarro, Plata, Soto.

Spenser, 141, 273.

Squier, E. G., 200, 299.

State Papers, Calendar of, 82, 302.

Stonehenge, 164.

Stübel, Alfons, 63, 304.

Sugar, 6, 35, 43, 131, 143.

Sun, (Inti), arms of the, 72; blood of the, 300; body of the, 72; Children of the, 9, 145, 179, 200, 211, 223; City of the, 72; cliff sacred to, 171; daughter of the, 136; empire of the, 198, 207; Father of Incas, 68, 131, 170, 174, 188, 195; festivals of the, 207-213; flocks of the, 170, 175; gold belonged to, 66, 77; god of Incas, 34, 39, 42, 159, 176, 193, 203, 282; Incas doubt divinity of, 209-210; labor given the, 194; land of the, 34, 203, 296; messengers of the, 185, 205, 208; parentage of the, 175; priests of the, 41, 206; ritual, 40; sacrifices to the, 211-212; service of the, 202-213; Setting of the, 70; temples of the, 40-42, 66, 89, 174, 196, 204-206, 223, 298; Virgins of the, 40, 41, 43, 172, 184, 189, 207, 212; worship of the, 41, 43, 49, 175, 178, 198, 223, 285, 301, 302. _See_ gold and silver.

_Surumpe_ (snow-blindness), 149.

_Tamarugo_ (tree), 54.

_Tambo_ (inn), 185.

Tambo de Mora, 36.

Tapir, 248, 272.

Tarapacá, 54, 55, 56.

Thunder and lightning, 4, 29, 67, 71, 105, 205, 212.

Tiahuanacu, 162-164, 176, 200, 299.

Titicaca, Lake, 167-173, 179.

Toribio, Santo, 102.

Torture, _See_ Inquisition.

Totora (reed), 168.

Treasure, buried, 36, 42, 49, 51, 71, 73, 81, 83; buried in lakes, 66, 80, 166-167, 171, 235; of churches, 88, 99; fleets of, 9, 76-83, 302; in Luna, 84. _See_ gold and silver.

Tschudi, Juan de, 80, 211, 299.

Tuaregs, 27.

Tumpinambaranas, 233.

_Tundoy_, or _tunduli_ (drum), 291.

Tupac Amaru, 216, 217; Condorcanqui, called, 220, 221.

Uiracocha, Con Tici, 164, 175; god of all Quichua-speaking people, 176; Huayna Ccapac speaks of, 66; identified with Pachacamac, 41, 174; identities of, 175-176; Incas produced by, 179; Son of Sun, 178; Spaniards called after, 71-72, 220; in Tarapacá, 55.

Ulloa, 236, 303.

_Uzaque_ (chieftain), 234.

Valleys, of desert, 3, 6, 35, 39, 40, 43, 47, 48, 53, 57, 103-105, _see_ Pica; of mountains, 6, 144, 147, 165, 166, 197, 198, 215, 224; of jungle, 240-244, 246, _see_ Amazon. _See_ rivers.

Vega, Garcilasso de la, 37, 89, 171, 185, 186, 194, 214, 215, 216, 300-301.

Veragua, 265.

Viceroys, 85-87, 96-98, 102, 117, 139.

Vicuñas, 24, 149, 153, 155-156, 189, 207. _See_ llamas.

_Viscachas_ (animal), 147, 155.

_Yaravis_ (music of Indians), 134.

_Yareta_ (moss), 225.

_Ychu_ (grass), 225.

Yucay, 165, 170, 215.

Yuncas, 38, 39, 51, 126, 128, 282. _See_ Chimus.

Yupanqui, Tupac Inca, 41, 49, 162, 186, 198, 209, 231.

Zarate, 184.

Zerda, 235.