Part 27

If you ask a learned man why it never rains there, he will say that the clouds are deprived of all their moisture when they cross the mountains from the eastward, and when they come up from the westward ocean are at once sucked dry by the heat that radiates from the sun-baked sands. Occasionally along the coast are found immense cemeteries in which the Incas buried their dead; and the contents of the graves are as well preserved as if their age were counted by weeks instead of centuries. The most interesting and extensive of the burial grounds is at Pachacamac, south of Lima, in Peru, where millions of bodies lie, often in three stratas, and very generally in two. Near this place was the famous temple dedicated to Pachacamac, the chief divinity of the Incas, and whom they acknowledged as the creator of the world. It was the Mecca of that day, and each believer was expected to visit it at least once in his life. The pilgrims came from all parts of the empire, bringing votive-offerings, which made the temple very rich; and Pizarro is said to have obtained a vast quantity of plunder from it. Around the temple arose a large city of monasteries to accommodate the priests and devotees, and inns to shelter the pilgrims; but the place is in ruins now.

At one of these towns the whole army of Chili was concentrated--forty thousand men--preparing for the invasion of Peru. The Peruvian gun-boat _Huascar_ (pronounced _Wascar_) came into the harbor, and with a few shots might have destroyed the reservoirs and the condensing establishments, and left these forty thousand men to die of thirst, for there was no fresh water within two hundred and fifty miles of them. But the commander of the _Huascar_ had a heart. He was a noble, generous German--Admiral Grau--and he sent word to the Chillano commander that he presented his army with their lives. He said he would not attack defenceless men, and sailed off in pursuit of some Chillano gun-boats which had run away when they saw the _Huascar_ coming.

The present terminus of the Bolivia railroad is at Puno, a little town of five thousand inhabitants, at an elevation of twelve thousand five hundred feet; but it is proposed to extend it farther up the valley, through another pass of the Andes, and then down the eastern slopes to the head of navigation on the Amazon--neither a difficult nor an expensive undertaking. An expedition has recently started from Buenos Ayres to make an exploration from the head of navigation on the Paraguay River into the mountains of Bolivia, for the purpose of constructing a cart-road, and ultimately a railroad to connect the mining regions of the latter republic with the Atlantic ports of the continent, and great hopes are entertained of its success. The little town of Puno owes its origin to the rich mines that surround it, and some of them are producing generously. It has a small amount of other commerce in hides and wool, coca-leaves, and cinchona. It is the centre of the alpaca wool trade, and considerable is exported.

To reach La Paz, the capital of Bolivia, from Puno one must cross Lake Titicaca, sailing its full length, and, reaching its southern shores, mount a mule and ride twenty-five miles along the ancient highway of the Incas, a wonderful road, nearly four thousand miles long, built eight hundred years or more ago, and still in a good state of preservation, notwithstanding the neglect of the Spaniards to keep it in repair.

Perhaps the most glorious monuments of the civilization of the Incas were the public or royal roads, extending from the capital to the remotest parts of the empire. Their remains are still most impressive, both from their extent and the amount of labor necessarily involved in their construction, and in contemplating them we know not which to admire most--the scope of their projectors, the power and constancy of the Incas who carried them to a completion, or the patience of the people who constructed them under all the obstacles resulting from the topography of the country and from imperfect means of execution. They built these roads in deserts, among moving sands reflecting the fierce rays of a tropical sun; they broke down rocks, graded precipices, levelled hills, and filled up valleys without the assistance of powder or of instruments of iron; they crossed lakes, marshes, and rivers, and without the aid of the compass followed direct courses in forests of eternal shade. They did, in short, what even now, with all of modern knowledge and means of action, would be worthy of the most powerful nations of the globe. One of the principal of these roads extended from Cuzco to the sea, and the other, which is followed to La Paz, ran along the crest of the Cordilleras from one end of the empire to the other, their aggregate lengths, with their branches, being about four thousand miles. Modern travellers compare them, in respect of structure, to the best works of the kind in any part of the world. In ascending mountains too steep to admit of grading, broad steps were cut in the solid rocks, while the ravines and hollows were filled with heavy embankments, flanked with parapets, and planted with shade-trees and fragrant shrubs. They were from eighteen to twenty-five Castilian feet broad, and were paved with immense blocks of

stone. At regular distances on these roads tambos--buildings for the accommodation of travellers--were erected. To these conveniences were added the establishment of a system of posts, by which messages could be transmitted from one extremity of the Incas’ dominions to the other in an incredibly short time. The service of the posts was performed by runners--for the Peruvians possessed no domestic animals swifter of foot than man--stationed in small buildings, likewise erected at easy distances from each other all along the principal roads. These messengers, or _chasquis_, as they were termed, wore a peculiar uniform, and were trained to their particular vocation. Each had his allotted station, between which and the next it was his duty to speed along at a certain pace with the message, dispatch, or parcel intrusted to his care. On drawing near to the station at which he had to transmit the message to the next courier, who was then to carry it farther, he was to give a signal of his approach, in order that the other might be in readiness to receive the missive and no time be lost; and thus it is said that messages were forwarded at the rate of one hundred and fifty miles a day.

The bridges constructed by the Peruvians were exceedingly simple, but were well adapted for crossing those rapid streams which rush down from the Andes and defy the skill of the modern engineer. They consisted of strong cables of the cabuya, or of twisted rawhide stretched from one bank to the other, something after the style of the suspension-bridges of our times. Poles were lashed across transversely, covered with branches, and these were again covered with earth and stones, so as to form a solid floor. Other cables extended along the sides, which were interwoven with limbs of trees, forming a kind of wicker balustrade. In some cases the mode of transit was in a species of basket or car, suspended on a single cable, and drawn from side to side with ropes. It would appear at first glance that bridges of this description could not be very lasting, yet a few still exist which are said to have been constructed by the Incas more than four hundred years ago. The modern inhabitants of some parts of Peru, Bolivia, and Chili still use the same means of crossing their torrent rivers.

The city of La Paz has about seventy thousand inhabitants, mostly Aymara Indians, poor, degraded, and ignorant. The full name of the place is La Paz de Ayacucho, and it means “the peace of Ayacucho,” being so christened in 1825, to commemorate the victory which established the independence of Bolivia from the hated crown of Spain. At that time the republic was a part of the old Province of Peru, and a separate State was founded by Bolivar, the Venezuelan Liberator of the Continent, who gave freedom to these people as he did

to his own countrymen, and the new republic was christened in his honor. La Paz was originally called Nuestra Señora de la Paz--“the peace of the Virgin”--by Alonzo de Mendoza, who founded it in 1548. It is thirteen thousand feet above tide-water, and is surrounded by a group of gigantic mountains, the most notable of which is the volcano Illiniani, twenty-one thousand three hundred feet high. Through the city runs the river Chiquiapo, a noble mountain-stream, which is crossed by a number of fine old bridges. The streets are narrow, irregular, and uneven, being paved with stone, and having narrow sidewalks, scarcely broad enough for two people to pass. The town resembles all others of Spanish construction, except that the houses are mostly built of stone instead of adobe, the walls being massive and enduring, and in some instances ornamented with carved stone or stucco-work. The cathedral is large and grand, the front being handsomely carved, and in a niche over the entrance stands a marble image of the Virgin, which was presented to the city by Charles of Spain, and transported from the seaboard at an enormous cost. The cathedral is built entirely of stone, and was over forty years in course of erection, hundreds of men being constantly employed. No derricks or other machinery were used in its construction, but the walls were built in a curious way. As fast as a tier of stone was laid, the earth was banked up against it inside and outside, and upon this inclined plane the stones for the next tier were rolled into their places. Then more earth was thrown on, and the process repeated until, when the walls were finished, the whole building was immersed in a mountain of dirt. This was allowed to remain until the roof was laid, when the earth was carried away upon the backs of llamas and men. It is said to have taken thirteen years to clear out the inside of the building, as the earth could only be taken away through the narrow windows and doors. There are fourteen other churches of considerable size, and several large monasteries, which are now used for military barracks and schools. A university is sustained by the Government, and there is a nominal free-school system, but education is at a low ebb.

In the centre of the city runs the Alameda, a public promenade which is frequented by all classes of citizens, and during the twilight hours is quite gay. The cemetery is very extensive, and one of the finest in South America. There are few stores or shops, most of the trading being done in the market-places, where all things are sold, and by peddlers who go through the city with baskets of provisions and notions upon their heads, crying their wares. The way customers call street-venders is worth noticing and imitating. They step to the door or open a window, and give utterance to a short sound resembling shir-r-r-r-r--something between a hiss and the exclamation used to chase away fowls--and it is singular what a distance it can be heard. If the peddler is in sight, his attention is at once arrested; he turns, and comes direct to the caller, now guided by a signal addressed to his eyes--closing the fingers of the right hand two or three times, with the palm downward, as if grasping something--a sign in universal use, and signifying “Come.” There is here no bawling after people in the streets, for in this quiet and ingenious way all classes communicate with passing friends or others with whom they wish to speak. The practice dates, I believe, from classical times. A curious custom is the peddling of fuel through the streets. Llamas are loaded with their own excrement, which when dried in the sun is called _taquia_, and sold by the basketful. It is used by all classes for cooking.

The mineral wealth of Bolivia has been proverbial almost from time immemorial. The silver-mines of Potosi have long been celebrated as perhaps the richest deposit of silver ore in the world. From the year 1545, when they were discovered, to the year 1864, these mines, according to official data, produced the enormous sum of $2,904,902,690 of our money. Besides Potosi there are other rich silver-mines, and many large deposits of gold. The great want of these mines is skilled labor and improved modern machinery. In early days the Indians were forced to work them against their will, and were treated with great harshness and cruelty. The historical student will call to mind the efforts of philanthropists to mitigate their sufferings. When their labor could no longer be controlled, the mines fell into comparative decay. The Indians will not work them with energy and industry to-day. They doubtless hold in memory through their traditions the wrongs inflicted on their ancestors by merciless taskmasters. If worked by experienced miners, with all the improved modern machinery, the gold and silver deposits would yield as abundant returns, perhaps, as in the days of their early history. Recently a party of Californians have gone into the country and taken charge of a gold-mine. If a good many others would follow them, mining in Bolivia would experience a renaissance that would remind the Bolivians of the El Dorado of the olden time.

The most useful to mankind of all the natural products of South America was quinine, the drug made from the bark of the cinchona-tree, which was discovered in Bolivia by a Franciscan friar in the early days of the Conquest, and was called cinchona in honor of the Countess of Conchona, whose husband was the Viceroy of Peru. She introduced it into Spain as a remedy for fevers, and there is no drug in the catalogue that has been used in such quantities or with such success by suffering mankind. The entire supply formerly came from Peru and Bolivia, and it was known as Peruvian bark, but afterwards the forests along the entire chain of the Andes were found to contain it, and it furnished one of the chief articles of export from South America for three centuries. The supply has been greatly diminished by the destruction of the trees, as it was the habit formerly to cut down the trunk, and strip it as well as the branches of the bark. Nowadays the forests are protected by law, and the trees are allowed to stand, a portion of the bark being stripped off each year, which nature replaces again.

England, with that provident foresight which characterizes much of her political economy, several years ago sent agents into Ecuador, Peru, and Bolivia, under the direction of the celebrated botanist Mr. Spruce, and made a collection of cinchona plants, which were taken to Java, Ceylon, and India, and there have been transplanted and cultivated with great success and profit. It is found that under proper treatment the tree produces a very much greater amount of quinine, of a much superior quality, and at less cost than the bark can be gathered in the mountains of South America, so that shipments have almost entirely ceased, and the market receives its supply from the British possessions.

Another plant is coming into prominence, and its export has very largely increased within the last few years. This is the coca, from which cocoaine and other medicinal and nerve stimulants are made. In the valleys of the Andes there are, and have been from time immemorial, extensive plantations of the coca shrub. It is indigenous in these regions, but the natives of Peru and Bolivia cultivate the plant in terraces which are likened to the vineyards of Tuscany and the Holy Land. _Erythroxylon coca_ is allied to the common flax, and forms, says Dr. Johnston, a shrub of six or eight feet, resembling our blackthorn, with small white flowers and bright green leaves. The leaves, of which there may be three or four crops in the year, are collected by the women and children, and dried in the sun, after which they are ready for use, and form the usual money exchange in some districts, the workmen being paid in coca-leaves. Among the Peruvians and Bolivians the coca-leaves are rolled with a little unslaked lime into a ball (_acullico_) and chewed in the mouth. Coca-chewing resembles in some respects the smoking of opium. Both must be taken apart, and with deliberation. The coca chewer, three or four times in the day, retires to a secluded spot, lays down his burden, and stretches himself perhaps beneath a tree. Slowly from the _chuspa_, or little pouch, which is ever at his girdle, the leaves and the lime are brought forth. The ball is formed and chewed for perhaps fifteen or thirty minutes, and then the toiler rises refreshed as quietly as he lay down, and returns to that monotonous round of labor in which the coca is his only and much-prized distraction. Some take it to excess, and to these the name of _coquero_ is given. This is particularly common among white Peruvians of good family, and hence the name “Blanco Coquero” in that country is a term of reproach equivalent to our “habitual drunkard.” The Indians regard the coca with extreme reverence. Von Tschudi, the Austrian scientist, who made the most thorough study of the ancient customs of the Incas, says, “During divine worship the priests chewed coca-leaves, and unless they were supplied with them it was believed that the favor of the gods could not be propitiated. It was also deemed necessary that the supplicator for Divine grace should approach the priests with an acullico in his mouth. It is believed that any business undertaken without the benediction of coca-leaves could not prosper, and to the shrub itself worship was rendered. During an interval of more than three hundred years Christianity has not been able to subdue this deep-rooted idolatry, for everywhere we find traces of belief in the mysterious powers of this plant. The excavators in the mines of Cerro del Pasco throw chewed coca upon hard veins of metal, in the belief that it softens the ore and renders it more easy to work. The Indians even at the present time put coca-leaves into the mouths of dead persons, in order to secure them a favorable reception on their entrance into another world, and when a Peruvian on a journey falls in with a mummy, he, with timid reverence, presents to it some coca-leaves as his pious offering.”

The coca-plant resembles tea and hops in the nature of its active principles, although differing entirely from them in its effects. In the coqueros the latter are not inviting. “They are,” says Dr. Von Tschudi, “a bad breath, pale lips and gums, greenish and stumpy teeth, and an ugly black mark at the angles of the mouth. The inveterate coquero is known at the first glance; his unsteady gait, his yellow skin, his dim and sunken eyes encircled by a purple ring, his quivering lips, and his general apathy all bear evidence of the baneful effect of the coca-juice when taken in excess.” The general influence of moderate doses is gently soothing and stimulating; but coca has in addition a special and remarkable power in enabling those who consume it to endure sustained labor in the absence of other food.

Down the coast, just before reaching the city of Valparaiso, is an island which possesses an interest for every one who has been a boy. Occasionally an excursion visits the place, and the Englishmen, who constitute a large fraction of the population of Valparaiso, with what few Americans there are, go over to spend a day or two, and renew their youth. It is the island of Juan Fernandez, where Robinson Crusoe and his man Friday, “who kept things tidy,” had the experience that has given the world of boys as much enjoyment as any that ever came from a book. There was a Robinson Crusoe--there is not a doubt of it--and there was a man Friday too, and the island stands to-day exactly as it is described in the narrative; but the surprising adventures of Mr. Crusoe as therein related do not correspond exactly with the local traditions of the story. The island was a favorite stopping-place for vessels in the South Seas, as it has good ship-timber, plenty of excellent water, abounds in fruits, goats, rabbits, and other flesh for food, and the rocks on the coast are covered with lobsters, shrimps, and crayfish. It was a popular resort for buccaneers also, who ran into a well-protected harbor to repair damages and get provisions. Juan Fernandez, a famous Spanish navigator, discovered it in 1563, and the King of Spain gave him a patent to the island, but as he never occupied it his title lapsed. In 1709 the Scotchman Selkirk, or Selcraig, became mutinous on board the ship _Cinque Ports_, and had to choose between being hung at the yard-arm or put ashore at Juan Fernandez alone. He took the latter alternative, and was left on the rocks with his sailor’s kit and a small supply of provisions. To his surprise, after he had been on the island a few days, he found a companion in an Indian from the Mosquito Coast of Central America, who some years before had come down on the pirate _Damphier_, and going ashore on a hunting expedition, was lost and abandoned by his comrades. This was the man Friday. Some years after, Selkirk and the Indian were rescued by Captain Rogers, of an English merchant-ship, and taken to Southampton, where the Scotchman told his story to Daniel Defoe, and it got into print, with some romantic exaggeration.

The island is accurately described in the story, and the visitor who is familiar with “Robinson Crusoe” can find the cave, the mountain-paths, and other haunts of the hero without difficulty; but Defoe has located it in the wrong geographical position, having placed it on the other side of the continent, and mixed up Montevideo with Valparaiso. It is about twenty-three miles long and ten miles wide in the broadest part, and is covered with beautiful hills and lovely valleys, the highest peak reaching an elevation of nearly three thousand feet. A hundred years ago the Spaniards introduced blood-hounds to kill off the goats and rabbits, and to keep the pirates away, but the scheme did not work. Upon her independence, in 1821, Chili made Juan Fernandez a penal colony, but thirty years after the prisoners mutinied, slaughtered the guards, and escaped. Then it was leased to a cattle company, which has now thirty thousand head of horned cattle and as many sheep grazing upon the hills. There are fifty or sixty inhabitants, mostly ranchmen and their families, who tend the herds and raise vegetables for the Valparaiso market.

Great care has been taken to preserve the relics of Alexander Selkirk’s stay upon the island, and his cave and huts remain just as he left them. In 1868 the officers of the British man-of-war _Topaz_ erected a marble tablet to mark the famous lookout from which Mr. Crusoe, like the Ancient Mariner, used to watch for a sail, “and yet no sail from day to day.” The inscription reads: “In memory of Alexander Selkirk, mariner, a native of Largo, county of Fife, Scotland; who lived upon this island in complete solitude for four years and four months. He was landed from the _Cinque Ports_ galley, 96 tons, 16 guns, A.D. 1704, and was taken off in the _Duke_, privateer, on February 12th, 1709. He died Lieutenant of H.B.M.S. _Weymouth_: 47 years. This tablet is erected upon Selkirk’s lookout by Commodore Powell and the officers of H.B.M.S. _Topaz_, A.D. 1868.”