In Cerro de Pasco there are two very remarkable veins of silver. One of them, the Veta de Colquirirca, runs nearly in a straight line from north to south, and has already been traced to the length of 9,600 feet, and the breadth of 412; the other vein is the Veta de Pariarirca, which takes a direction from east-south-east to west-north-west, and which intersects the Veta de Colquirirca precisely, it is supposed, under the market-place of the city. Its known extent is 6,400 feet in length, and 380 feet in breadth. From these large veins numberless smaller ones branch off in various directions, so that a net-work of silver may be supposed to spread beneath the surface of the earth. Some thousand openings or mouths (bocaminas) are the entrances to these mines. Most of these entrances are within the city itself, in small houses; and some are in the dwellings of the mine-owners. Many of them are exceedingly shallow, and not more than five hundred deserve the name of shafts. All are worked in a very disorderly and careless way; the grand object of their owners being to avoid expense. The dangerous parts in the shafts are never walled up, and the excavations proceed without the adoption of any measures of security. The consequence is, that accidents caused by the falling in of the galleries are of frequent occurrence; and every year the lives of numbers of the Indian miners are sacrificed. A melancholy example of the effects of this negligence is presented by the now ruined mine of Matagente (literally Kill People), in which three hundred laborers were killed by the falling in of a shaft. I descended into several of the mines, among others into the Descubridora, which is one of the deepest, and I always felt that I had good reason to congratulate myself on returning to the surface of the earth in safety. Rotten blocks of wood and loose stones serve for steps, and, where these cannot be placed, the shaft, which in most instances runs nearly perpendicular, is descended by the help of rusty chains and ropes, whilst loose fragments of rubbish are continually falling from the damp walls.

The mine laborers, all of whom are Indians, are of two classes. One class consists of those who work in the mines all the year round without intermission, and who receive regular wages from the mine owners;—the other class consists of those who make only temporary visits to Cerro de Pasco, when they are attracted thither by the boyas.[70] This latter class of laborers are called maquipuros. Most of them come from the distant provinces, and they return to their homes when the boya is at an end. The mine laborers are also subdivided into two classes, the one called barreteros, whose employment consists in breaking the ore; and the other called hapires, or chaquiris, who bring up the ore from the shaft. The work allotted to the hapires is exceedingly laborious. Each load consists of from fifty to seventy-five pounds of metal, which is carried in a very irksome and inconvenient manner in an untanned hide, called a capacho. The hapire performs his toilsome duty in a state of nudity, for, notwithstanding the coldness of the climate, he becomes so heated by his laborious exertion, that he is glad to divest himself of his clothing. As the work is carried on incessantly day and night, the miners are divided into parties called puntas, each party working for twelve successive hours. At six o'clock morning and evening the puntas are relieved. Each one is under the inspection of a mayor-domo. When a mine yields a scanty supply of metal, the laborers are paid in money; the barreteros receiving six reals per day, and the hapires only four. During the boyas the laborers receive instead of their wages in money, a share of the ore. The Indians often try to appropriate to themselves surreptitiously pieces of ore; but to do this requires great cunning and dexterity, so narrowly are they watched by the mayor-domos. Nevertheless, they sometimes succeed. One of the hapires related to me how he had contrived to carry off a most valuable piece of silver. He fastened it on his back, and then wrapping himself in his poncho, he pretended to be so ill, that he obtained permission to quit the mine. Two of his confederates who helped him out, assisted him in concealing the treasure. The polvorilla, a dark powdery kind of ore, very full of silver, used to be abstracted from the mines by the following stratagem. The workmen would strip off their clothes, and having moistened the whole of their bodies with water, would roll themselves in the polvorilla which stuck to them. On their return home they washed off the silver-dust and sold it for several dollars. But this trick being detected, a stop was soon put to it, for, before leaving the mines, the laborers are now required to strip in order to be searched.

The operation of separating the silver from the dross is performed at some distance from Cerro de Pasco, in haciendas, belonging to the great mine owners. The process is executed in a very clumsy, imperfect, and at the same time, a very expensive manner. The amalgamation of the quicksilver with the metal is effected by the tramping of horses. The animals employed in this way are a small ill-looking race, brought from Ayacucho and Cuzco, where they are found in numerous herds. The quicksilver speedily has a fatal effect on their hoofs, and after a few years the animals become unfit for work. The separation of the metals is managed with as little judgment as the amalgamation, and the waste of quicksilver is enormous. It is computed that on each mark of silver, half a pound of quicksilver is expended. The quicksilver, with the exception of some little brought from Idria and Huancavelica, comes from Spain in iron jars, each containing about seventy-five pounds weight of the metal. In Lima the price of these jars is from sixty to 100 dollars each, but they are occasionally sold as high as 135 or 140 dollars. Considering the vast losses which the Peruvian mine owners sustain by the waste of quicksilver and the defective mode of refining, it may fairly be inferred, that their profits are about one-third less than they would be under a better system of management.

In Cerro de Pasco there are places called boliches, in which the silver is separated from the dross by the same process as that practised in the haciendas, only on a smaller scale. In the boliches the amalgamation is performed, not by horses but by Indians, who mix the quicksilver with the ore by stamping on it with their feet for several hours in succession. This occupation they usually perform barefooted, and the consequence is, that paralysis and other diseases caused by the action of mercury, are very frequent among the persons thus employed. The owners of the boliches, who are mostly Italians, are not mine proprietors. They obtain the metal from the Indians, who give them their huachacas[71] in exchange for brandy and other articles. On the other hand, the owners of the boliches obtain the money required for their speculations from capitalists, who make them pay an enormous interest. Nevertheless, many amass considerable fortunes in the course of a few years; for they scruple not to take the most unjust advantage of the Indians, whose laborious toil is rewarded by little gain.

The law requires that all the silver drawn from the mines of Cerro de Pasco shall be conveyed to a government smelting-house, called the Callana, there to be cast into bars of one hundred pounds weight, to be stamped, and charged with certain imposts. The value of silver in Cerro de Pasco varies from seven to eight dollars per mark. The standard value in Lima is eight dollars and a half.

It is impossible to form anything like an accurate estimate of the yearly produce of the mines of Cerro de Pasco; for a vast quantity of silver is never taken to the Callana, but is smuggled to the coast, and from thence shipped for Europe. In the year 1838, no less than 85,000 marks of contraband silver were conveyed to the sea port of Huacho, and safely shipped on board a schooner. The quantity of silver annually smelted and stamped in the Callana is from two to three hundred thousand marks—seldom exceeding the latter amount. From 1784 to 1820, 1826, and 1827, the amount was 8,051,409 marks; in the year 1784 it was 68,208 marks; and in 1785, 73,455 marks. During seventeen years it was under 200,000 marks; and only during three years above 300,000. The produce of the mines is exceedingly fluctuating. The successive revolutions which have agitated the country have tended very considerably to check mining operations. On the overthrow of Santa Cruz, Don Miguel Otero, the most active and intelligent mine owner of Cerro de Pasco, was banished; an event which had a very depressing influence on all the mining transactions of that part of South America. Within the last few years, however, mining has received a new impetus, and attention has been directed to the adoption of a more speedy and less expensive system of amalgamation.

As a place of residence Cerro de Pasco is exceedingly disagreeable; nothing but the pursuit of wealth can reconcile any one to a long abode in it. The climate, like that of the higher Puna, is cold and stormy. The better sort of houses are well built, and are provided with good English fire-places and chimneys. But however comfortably lodged, the new comer cannot easily reconcile himself to the reflection that the earth is hollow beneath his feet. Still less agreeable is it to be awakened in the night by the incessant hammering of the Indian miners. Luckily earthquakes are of rare occurrence in those parts: it would require no very violent shock to bury the whole city in the bosom of the earth.

Silver being the only produce of the soil, the necessaries of life are all exceedingly dear in the Cerro, as they have to be brought from distant places. The warehouses are, it is true, always plentifully supplied even with the choicest luxuries; but the extortion of venders and the abundance of money render prices most exorbitant. The market is so well supplied with provisions that it may vie with that of Lima. The products of the coast, of the table-lands and the forests, are all to be procured in the market of Cerro de Pasco; but the price demanded for every article is invariably more than double its worth. House rents are also extravagantly high; and the keep of horses is exceedingly expensive.

The population of Cerro de Pasco presents a motley assemblage of human beings, such as one would scarcely expect to find in a city situated at 14,000 feet above the sea, and encircled by wild mountains. The Old and the New Worlds seem there to have joined hands, and there is scarcely any nation of Europe or America that has not its representative in Cerro de Pusco. The Swede and the Sicilian, the Canadian and the Argentinian, are all united here at one point, and for one object. The inhabitants of this city may be ranked in two divisions, viz., traders and miners—taking both terms in their most comprehensive sense. The mercantile population consists chiefly of Europeans or white Creoles, particularly those who are owners of large magazines. The keepers of coffee houses and brandy shops are here, as in Lima, chiefly Italians from Genoa. Other shops are kept by the Mestizos, and the provision-dealers are chiefly Indians, who bring their supplies from remote places.

The mining population may be divided into mine owners (mineros) and Indian laborers. The majority of the mineros are descendants of the old Spanish families, who, at an early period, became possessors of the mines, whence they derived enormous wealth, which most of them dissipated in prodigal extravagance. At the present time, only a very few of the mineros are rich enough to defray, from their own resources, the vast expense attending the operations of mining. They consequently raise the required money by loans from the capitalists of Lima, who require interest of 100 or 120 per cent., and, moreover, insist on having bars of silver at a price below standard value. To these hard conditions, together with the custom that has been forced upon the miners of paying their laborers in metal, at times when it is very abundant, may be traced the cause of the miserable system of mine-working practised in Cerro de Pasco. To liquidate his burthensome debts the minero makes his laborers dig as much ore as possible from the mine, without any precautions being taken to guard against accidents. The money-lenders, on the other hand, have no other security for the recovery of their re-payment than the promise of the minero, and a failure of the usual produce of a mine exposes them to the risk of losing the money they have advanced.

Under these circumstances it can scarcely be expected that the character and habits of the minero should qualify him to take a high rank in the social scale. His insatiable thirst for wealth continually prompts him to embark in new enterprises, whereby he frequently loses in one what he gains in another. After a mine has been worked without gain for a series of years, an unexpected boya probably occurs, and an immense quantity of silver may be extracted. But a minero retiring on the proceeds of a boya is an event of rare occurrence. A vain hope of increasing fortune prompts him to risk the certain for the uncertain: and the result frequently is, that the once prosperous minero has nothing to bequeath to his children but a mine heavily burthened with debt. The persevering ardor of persons engaged in mining is truly remarkable. Unchecked by disappointment, they pursue the career in which they have embarked. Even when ruin appears inevitable, the love of money subdues the warnings of reason, and hope conjures up, from year to year, visionary pictures of riches yet to come.

Joined to this infatuated pursuit of the career once entered on, an inordinate passion for cards and dice contributes to ruin many of the mineros of Cerro de Pasco. In few other places are such vast sums staked at the gaming-table; for the superabundance of silver feeds that national vice of the Spaniards and their descendants. From the earliest hours of morning cards and dice are in requisition. The mine owner leaves his silver stores, and the shop-keeper forsakes his counter, to pass a few hours every day at the gaming-table; and card-playing is the only amusement in the best houses of the town. The mayordomos, after being engaged in the mines throughout the whole day, assemble with their comrades in the evening, round the gaming-table, from which they often do not rise until six in the morning, when the bell summons them to resume their subterraneous occupations. They not unfrequently gamble away their share of a boya before any indication of one is discernible in the mine.

The working class of miners is composed of Indians, who throng to Cerro de Pasco from all the provinces, far and near, especially when boyas are expected. At times, when the mines are not very productive, the number of Indian laborers amounts to between three and four thousand; but when there is a great supply of metal, the ordinary number of mine-workers is more than tripled. The Indians labor with a degree of patient industry, which it would be vain to expect from European workmen similarly circumstanced. This observation applies to the hapires in particular. Content with wretched food, and still more wretched lodging, the hapire goes through his hard day's work, partaking of no refreshment but coca, and at the end of the week (deduction being made for the food, &c., obtained on credit from the minero), he, possibly, finds himself in possession of a dollar. This sum he spends on his Sunday holiday in chicha and brandy, of which he takes as much as his money will pay for, or as he can get on credit. When excited by strong drinks, such as maize beer, chicha, and brandy, to which they are very much addicted, the Indian miners are exceedingly quarrelsome. The laborers belonging to the different mines go about the streets rioting and attacking each other, and they frequently get involved in dangerous affrays. No Sunday or Friday passes over without the occurrence of battles, in which knives, sticks, and stones are used as weapons; and the actors in these scenes of violence inflict on each other severe and often fatal wounds. Any effective police interference to quell these street riots, is out of the question.

When an unusually abundant produce of the mines throws extra payment into the hands of the mine laborers, they squander their money with the most absurd extravagance, and they are excellent customers to the European dealers in dress and other articles of luxury. Prompted by a ludicrous spirit of imitation, the Indian, in his fits of drunkenness, will purchase costly things which he can have no possible use for, and which he becomes weary of, after an hour's possession. I once saw an Indian purchase a cloak of fine cloth, for which he paid ninety-two dollars. He then repaired to a neighboring pulperia,[72] where he drank till he became intoxicated, and then, staggering into the street, he fell down, and rolled in the kennel. On rising, and discovering that his cloak was besmeared with mud, he threw it off, and left it in the street, for any one who might choose to pick it up. Such acts of reckless prodigality are of daily occurrence. A watchmaker in Cerro de Pasco informed me that one day an Indian came to his shop to purchase a gold watch. He showed him one, observing that the price was twelve gold ounces (204 dollars), and that it would probably be too dear for him. The Cholo paid the money, and took the watch; then, after having examined it for a few minutes, he dashed it on the ground, observing that the thing was of no use to him. When the Indian miner possesses money, he never thinks of laying by a part of it, as neither he nor any of his family feel the least ambition to improve their miserable way of life. With them, drinking is the highest of all gratifications, and in the enjoyment of the present moment, they lose sight of all considerations for the future. Even those Cholos who come from distant parts of the country to share in the rich harvest of the mines of Cerro de Pasco, return to their homes as poor as when they left them, and with manners and morals vastly deteriorated.

Besides the mines of Cerro de Pasco, which in point of importance are nowise inferior to those of Potosi, there are numerous very rich mining districts in Peru. Among the most prolific may be ranked the provinces of Pataz, Huamanchuco, Caxamarca, and Hualgayoc. In this last-named province is situated the Cerro de San Fernando, on which Alexander Von Humboldt has conferred so much celebrity. The rich silver veins were discovered there in the year 1771; and there are now upwards of 1400 bocaminas. On the insulated mountain the veins of metal intersect each other in every direction, and they are alike remarkable for being easily worked and exceedingly prolific. The mines of Huantaxaya, situated on the coast in the neighborhood of Iquique, were also very rich, and the silver obtained from them was either pure or containing a very slight admixture of foreign substances. They yielded an incredible quantity of metal, but they were speedily exhausted; and are now totally barren. The chains of hills in the southern districts of Peru contain a multitude of very rich mines, of which the most remarkable are those of San Antonio de Esquilache, Tamayos, Picotani, Cancharani, and Chupicos; but owing to bad working and defective drainage, many of the veins are in a very ruinous state, and the metal drawn from them bears no proportion to the quantity they contain. The Salcedo mine is very celebrated for the vast abundance of its produce, and the tragical end of its original owner.

Don Jose Salcedo, a poor Spaniard, who dwelt in Puno, was in love with a young Indian girl, whose mother promised, on condition of his marrying her daughter, that she would show him a rich silver mine. Salcedo fulfilled the condition, obtained possession of the mine, and worked it with the greatest success. The report of his wealth soon roused the envy of the Count de Lemos, then viceroy of Peru, who sought to possess himself of the mine. By his generosity and benevolence Salcedo had become a great favorite with the Indian population, and the viceroy took advantage of this circumstance to accuse him of high treason, on the ground that he was exciting the Indians against the Spanish government. Salcedo was arrested, tried, and condemned to death. Whilst he was in prison, he begged to be permitted to send to Madrid the documents relating to his trial, and to appeal to the mercy of the king. He proposed, if the viceroy would grant his request, that he would pay him the daily tribute of a bar of silver, from the time when the ship left the port of Callao with the documents, until the day of her return. When it is recollected that at that period the voyage from Callao to Spain occupied from twelve to sixteen months, some idea may be formed of the enormous wealth of Salcedo and his mine. The viceroy rejected this proposition, ordered Salcedo to be hanged, and set out for Puno to take possession of the mine.[73]

But this cruel and unjust proceeding failed in the attainment of its object. As soon as Salcedo's death-doom was pronounced, his mother-in-law, accompanied by a number of relations and friends, repaired to the mine, flooded it with water, destroyed the works, and closed up the entrance so effectually that it was impossible to trace it out. They then dispersed; but some of them, who were afterwards captured, could not be induced, either by promises or tortures, to reveal the position of the mouth of the mine, which to this day remains undiscovered. All that is known about it is that it was situated in the neighborhood of Cerro de Laycacota and Cananchari.

Another extraordinary example of the productiveness of the Peruvian mines, is found at San Jose, in the department of Huancavelica. The owner of the mines of San Jose requested the viceroy Castro, whose friend he was, to become godfather to his first child. The viceroy consented, but at the time fixed for the christening, some important affair of state prevented him from quitting the capital, and he sent the vice-queen to officiate as his proxy. To render honor to his illustrious guest, the owner of the San Jose mines laid down a triple row of silver bars along the whole way (and it was no very short distance), from his house to church. Over this silver pavement the vice-queen accompanied the infant to the church, where it was baptized. On her return, her munificent host presented to her the whole of the silver road, in token of his gratitude for the honor she had conferred on him. Since that time, the mines and the province in which they are situated have borne the name of Castrovireyna. In most of these mines the works have been discontinued. Owing to defective arrangements, one of the richest of these mines fell in, and 122 workmen were buried in the ruins. Since that catastrophe, the Indians refuse to enter the mines. Many stories are related of spirits and apparitions said to haunt the mines of Castrovireyna. I was surprised to hear these tales, for the imagination of the Indian miners is not very fertile in the creation of this sort of superstitious terrors.

Notwithstanding the enormous amount of wealth, which the mines of Peru have already yielded, and still continue to yield, only a very small portion of the silver veins has been worked. It is a well-known fact, that the Indians are aware of the existence of many rich mines, the situation of which they will never disclose to the whites, nor to the detested mestizos. Heretofore mining has been to them all toil and little profit, and it has bound them in chains from which they will not easily emancipate themselves. For centuries past, the knowledge of some of the richest silver mines has been with inviolable secresy transmitted from father to son. All endeavors to prevail on them to divulge these secrets have hitherto been fruitless. In the village of Huancayo, there lived, a few years ago, two brothers, Don Jose and Don Pedro Yriarte, two of the most eminent mineros of Peru. Having obtained certain intelligence that in the neighboring mountains there existed some veins of pure silver, they sent a young man, their agent, to endeavor to gain further information on the subject. The agent took up his abode in the cottage of a shepherd, to whom, however, he gave not the slightest intimation of the object of his mission. After a little time, an attachment arose between the young man and the shepherd's daughter, and the girl promised to disclose to her lover the position of a very rich mine. On a certain day, when she was going out to tend her sheep, she told him to follow her at a distance, and to notice the spot where she would let fall her manta; by turning up the earth on that spot, she assured him he would find the mouth of a mine. The young man did as he was directed, and after digging for a little time, he discovered a mine of considerable depth, containing rich ore. Whilst busily engaged in breaking out the metal, he was joined by the girl's father, who expressed himself delighted at the discovery, and offered to assist him. After they had been at work for some hours, the old Indian handed to his companion a cup of chicha, which the young man thankfully accepted. But he had no sooner tasted the liquor than he felt ill, and he soon became convinced that poison had been mixed with the beverage. He snatched up the bag containing the metal he had collected, mounted his horse, and with the utmost speed galloped off to Huancayo. There, he related to Yriarte all that had occurred, described as accurately as he could the situation of the mine, and died on the following night. Active measures were immediately set on foot, to trace out the mine, but without effect. The Indian and all his family had disappeared, and the mine was never discovered.

In Huancayo there also dwelt a Franciscan monk. He was an inveterate gamester, and was involved in pecuniary embarrassments. The Indians in the neighborhood of his dwelling-place were much attached to him, and frequently sent him presents of poultry, cheese, butter, &c. One day, after he had been a loser at the gaming-table, he complained bitterly of his misfortunes to an Indian, who was his particular friend. After some deliberation, the Indian observed, that possibly he could render him some assistance; and, accordingly, on the following evening, he brought him a large bag full of rich silver ore. This present was several times repeated; but the monk, not satisfied, pressed the Indian to show him the mine from whence the treasure was drawn. The Indian consented, and on an appointed night he came, accompanied by two of his comrades, to the dwelling of the Franciscan. They blindfolded him, and each in turn carried him on his shoulders to a distance of several leagues, into the mountain passes. At length they set him down, and the bandage being removed from his eyes, he discovered that he was in a small and somewhat shallow shaft, and was surrounded by bright masses of silver. He was allowed to take as much as he could carry, and when laden with the rich prize, he was again blindfolded, and conveyed home in the same manner as he had been brought to the mine. Whilst the Indians were conducting him home, he hit on the following stratagem. He unfastened his rosary, and here and there dropped one of the beads, hoping by this means to be enabled to trace his way back on the following day; but in the course of a couple of hours his Indian friend again knocked at his door, and presenting to him a handful of beads, said, "Father, you dropped your rosary on the way, and I have picked it up."

When I was in Jauja, in the year 1841, an Indian whom I had previously known, from his having accompanied me on one of my journeys in the Sierra, came to me and asked me to lend him a crow-bar. I did so, and after a few days, when he returned it, I observed that the end was covered with silver. Some time afterwards I learned that this Indian had been imprisoned by order of the sub-prefect, because he had offered for sale some very rich silver ore, and on being questioned as to where he had obtained it, his answer was that he found it on the road; a tale, the truth of which was very naturally doubted. The following year, when I was again in Jauja, the Indian paid me another visit. He then informed me that he had been for several months confined in a dark dungeon and half-starved, because the sub-prefect wanted to compel him to reveal the situation of a mine which he knew of, but that he would not disclose the secret, and adhered firmly to the statement he had made of having found the ore. After a little further conversation, he became more communicative than I had any reason to expect, though he was fully convinced I would not betray him. He confessed to me that he actually knew of a large vein containing valuable silver, of which he showed me a specimen. He further told me that it was only when he was much in want of money that he had recourse to the mine, of which the shaft was not very deep; and, moreover, that after closing it up, he always carried the loose rubbish away to a distance of some miles, and then covered the opening so carefully with turf and cactus, that it was impossible for any one to discern it. This Indian dwelt in a miserable hut, about three leagues from Jauja, and his occupation was making wooden stirrups, which employment scarcely enabled him to earn a scanty subsistence. He assured me it was only when he was called upon to pay contributions, which the government exacts with merciless rigor, that he had recourse to the mine. He then extracted about half an aroba of ore, and sold it in Jauja, in order to pay the tax levied on him.

I could quote many well-authenticated instances of the same kind; but the above examples sufficiently prove the reluctance of the Indians to disclose the secret of their hidden treasures, and their indifference about obtaining wealth for themselves. It is true that the Indians are not, in all parts of the country, so resolutely reserved as they are in Huancayo and Jauja, for all the most important mines have been made known to the Spaniards by the natives. But the Peruvian Indians are composed of many different races, and though all were united by the Incas into one nation, yet they still differ from each other in manners and character. The sentiment of hatred towards the whites and their descendants has not been kept up in an equal degree among them all. In proportion as some are friendly and social with the Creoles, others are reserved and distrustful. In general, the Indians regard with unfriendly feelings those whites who seek to trace out new mines; for they cherish a bitter recollection of the fate of Huari Capcha, the discoverer of the mines of Cerro de Pasco, who, it is said, was thrown into a dungeon by the Spaniard, Ugarte, and ended his days in captivity. I have not met with any proofs of the authenticity of this story, but I frequently heard it related by the Indians, who referred to it as their justification for withholding from the whites any directions for finding mines.

But to return to Cerro de Pasco. That city has, by its wealth, become one of the most important in the Peruvian Republic; and under improved legislation, and a judicious mining system, it might be rendered still more prosperous and fully deserving of its title of "Treasury of Peru." Though from its situation Cerro de Pasco is cut off from the principal lines of communication with other parts of Peru, yet the city is itself the central point of four roads, on which there is considerable traffic. Westward runs the road to Lima, through the Quebrada of Canta, by which all the silver that is not contraband is transported to the capital. The silver, when melted into bars, is consigned to the care of the mule-drivers, merely on their giving a receipt for it; and in this manner they are sometimes entrusted with loads of the value of several hundred thousand dollars, which they convey to Lima unattended by any guards or escort. There is, however, no danger of their being plundered; for the robbers do not take the stamped bars of silver. The silver specie, on the other hand, which is sent from Lima, is escorted by a military guard as far as Llanga or Santa Rosa de Quibe. The escort is not, however, very adequate to resist the highway robbers, consisting of numerous bands of armed negroes. On the east is the road running through the Quebrada de Huarriaca to the town of Huanuco and the Huallaga Forests. The road on the north of Cerro de Pasco leads to the village of Huanuco el Viejo, one of the most remarkable places of Peru, being full of interesting ruins of the time of the Incas. From Huanuco the road leads to Huaraz, and from thence to the north coast. The south road passes over the level heights to Tarma, Jauja, and the other southern provinces.

From the village of Pasco two roads diverge, the one leading to Lima, the other to Tarma. The former crosses the Pampa of Bombon and the Diezmo, and continues onward to the Pass of La Viuda. The latter leads by way of the Tambo Ninacaca, and the village of Carhuamayo[74] to Junin, passing near a very large lake, situated at the height of 13,000 feet above the sea. This lake is the Laguna de Chinchaycocha,[75] which is twelve leagues long, and at its utmost breadth measures two leagues and a half. It is the largest of the South American lakes, next to the Laguna de Titicaca, which is eighty-four English miles long and forty-one broad. As the lake of Chinchaycocha loses by various outlets much more water than it receives from its tributary sources, it is evident that it must be fed by subterraneous springs. Its marshy banks are overgrown by totora (Malacochaete Totora), and are inhabited by numerous water fowl. The Indians entertain a superstitious belief that this lake is haunted by huge, fish-like animals, who at certain hours of the night leave their watery abode to prowl about the adjacent pasture lands, where they commit great havoc among the cattle. The southwestern end of the lake is intersected by a marshy piece of ground, interspersed with stones, called the Calzada, which forms a communication between the two banks of the lake. At the distance of about half a league from the lake is a village, which, under the Spanish domination, was called Reyes. Adjacent to it is the celebrated Pampa of Junin, which, on the 24th of August, 1824, was the scene of a battle between the Spanish forces, commanded by General Canterac, and the insurgents, headed by Don Simon Bolivar. The result of this battle had an important influence on the destiny of Peru. It is generally believed that treachery in the Spanish army threw the victory into the hands of the insurgents. A few days prior to the battle Bolivar is said to have received, from the Spanish camp, a letter in cypher, which he transmitted for explanation to his minister, Monteagudo, in Cerro de Pasco. The answer received from the minister was, that the letter recommended Bolivar to attack the enemy without a moment's delay, for that on the part of the Spaniards the victory was insured to him. The bearer of the letter is still living, and he does not deny that he was in the secret of the whole plot. The insurgents were victorious, and in commemoration of their triumph they gave to the village of Reyes, and to the whole province, the name of Junin, calling them after the plain on which the battle was fought.

From Junin, the road runs to the distance of eight leagues across a difficult level height, to Cacas, a hamlet containing only a few huts. From thence, it is continued three leagues further, through several narrow Quebradas, and finally terminates in the beautiful valley of Tarma.

Many of the Indians in the neighborhood of Cerro de Pasco, especially those who dwell in the Puna, in the direction of Cacas, infest the roads for the purpose of plunder. They conceal themselves behind the rocks, where they lie in wait for travellers, whom they severely wound, and sometimes even kill, by stones hurled from their slings. When great boyas occur in the mines of the Cerro, these roads are so unsafe that it is not prudent to travel, except in well-armed parties. The solitary traveller who seeks a night's lodging in one of the Puna huts, exposes himself to great peril; for the host not unfrequently assassinates his sleeping guest. Nor is there much greater security in villages, such as Junin and Carhuamayo. Only a few years ago, the bodies of three travellers were found in the house of the Alcalde of Junin, the principal authority in the village. The travellers had sought shelter for the night, and were inhumanly murdered. Every year persons known to have been travelling in these parts, mysteriously disappear, and there is every reason to believe they have been murdered by the Indians. Many of these Indians are mine laborers, who, for their incorrigible turpitude, have been banished from the Cerro, and who live by pillage.

I will close this chapter with a brief description of four-and-twenty hours which I passed during a journey in the wildest part of the Puna region.

On the 12th of January, 1840, having passed the night in the hut of a Puna shepherd, I awoke next morning at day-break. The sun was just beginning to cast a light tinge of red on the snow-capped tops of the Cordillera. Through the aperture in the roof of the hut, which served the purpose of a chimney, there penetrated a feeble light, just sufficient to show the misery and poverty that prevailed in the interior of the habitation. I rose from the resting-place on which, only a few hours previously, I had stretched myself exhausted by cold and fatigue, and raising the cow-hide, which closed the doorway of the hut, I crept out to make preparations for the continuance of my journey.

I saddled my mule, and put into one of the saddle-bags a small supply of food. Whilst I was thus engaged, one of those fierce little dogs which are domiciled in every Indian hut, slily watched my movements; and though he had rested at the foot of my bed during the night, yet he was only prevented, by the repeated threats of his master, from making an attack upon me. My Indian host handed me my gun; I paid for my night's lodging by a few reals and some paper cigars; and having asked him to direct me on my way, I rode off whilst he was expressing his gratitude, and his kind wishes in the words, "Dios lo pague!"

The sky was overhung by a thick mist, and the snow which had fallen during the night covered the ground as far as the eye could reach. On my way I met an old Indian woman driving her sheep. The bleating flock moved slowly on, leaving a deep furrow in the snow, and seeming impatient till the genial sun should dispel the mist and dissolve the white covering which overspread their scanty pasture. A little further on I met the son of this same Indian shepherdess. He and his dog were busily engaged in catching partridges, destined to be sold on the following Sunday, in the nearest village.

My road lay along a gentle acclivity, interspersed with rocks and swamps, which often obliged me to make wide detours. The swamps (or as the natives call them, Attoladeros) are dangerous enemies to travellers in the Puna, who, with their horses and mules, sometimes sink into them and perish. Even in the most open parts of the country it is not easy to discern the swamps, and the ground often sinks beneath the rider where he least expects it. At length the sun began to disperse the mist, and the snow gradually melted beneath his burning rays. Inspired with new vigor, I took a survey of the wild solitude around me. I was now on one of the level heights, about 14,000 feet above the sea. On both sides arose the high Cordillera summits crowned with eternal ice; detached peaks here and there towering to the skies. Behind me lay, deep and deeper, the dark valleys of the lower mountain regions, which, with the scarcely discernible Indian villages, receded in the distance, till they blended with the line of the horizon. Before me stretched the immeasurable extent of the level heights, at intervals broken by ridges of hills. It seemed as though here, in the snow plains of the Cordillera, Nature had breathed out her last breath. Here life and death meet together as it were to maintain the eternal struggle between being and annihilation.

How little life had the sun yet wakened around me! The dull yellow Puna grass, scarcely the length of one's finger, blended its tint with the greenish hue of the glaciers. Advancing further on my onward course, how joyfully I greeted as old acquaintance the purple gentiana and the brown calceolaria! With what pleasure I counted the yellow blossoms of the echino-cactus! and presently the sight of the ananas-cactus pictured in my mind all the luxuriance of the primeval forests. These cacti were growing amidst rushes and mosses and syngeneses, which the frost had changed to a rusty brown hue. Not a butterfly fluttered in the rarefied atmosphere; no fly nor winged insect of any kind was discernible. A beetle or a toad creeping from their holes, or a lizard warming himself in the sun, are all that reward the search of the naturalist.

As I journeyed onward, animate life awakened in rich variety around me. Birds, few in species, but numerous in individuals, everywhere met my view. Herds of vicunas approached me with curious gaze, and then on a sudden fled with the swiftness of the wind. In the distance I observed stately groups of huanacus turning cautiously to look at me, and then passing on. The Puna stag (tarush) slowly advanced from his lair in the mountain recesses, and fixed on me his large, black, wondering eyes; whilst the nimble rock rabbits (viscachas) playfully disported and nibbled the scanty herbage growing in the mountain crevices.

I had wandered for some hours admiring the varieties of life in this peculiar alpine region, when I stumbled against a dead mule. The poor animal had probably sunk beneath his burthen, and had been left by his driver to perish of cold and hunger. My presence startled three voracious condors, which were feeding on the dead carcass. These kings of the air proudly shook their crowned heads, and darted at me furious glances with their blood-red eyes. Two of them rose on their giant wings, and in narrowing circles hovered threateningly above my head, whilst the third, croaking fiercely, kept guard over the booty. I cocked my gun in readiness for defence, and cautiously rode past the menacing group, without the least desire of further disturbing their banquet. These condors were the only hostile animals I encountered in this part of the Puna.

It was now two o'clock in the afternoon, and I had ridden on a continuous though gradual ascent since sunrise. My panting mule slackened his pace, and seemed unwilling to mount a rather steep ascent which we had now arrived at. To relieve him I dismounted, and began walking at a rapid pace. But I soon felt the influence of the rarefied atmosphere, and I experienced an oppressive sensation which I had never known before. I stood still for a few moments to recover myself, and then tried to advance; but an indescribable oppression overcame me. My heart throbbed audibly; my breathing was short and interrupted. A world's weight seemed to lie upon my chest; my lips swelled and burst; the capillary vessels of my eyelids gave way, and blood flowed from them. In a few moments my senses began to leave me. I could neither see, hear, nor feel distinctly. A grey mist floated before my eyes, and I felt myself involved in that struggle between life and death which, a short time before, I fancied I could discern on the face of nature. Had all the riches of earth, or the glories of heaven, awaited me a hundred feet higher, I could not have stretched out my hand towards them.

In this half senseless state I lay stretched on the ground, until I felt sufficiently recovered to remount my mule. One of the Puna storms was now gathering, thunder and lightning accompanied a heavy fall of snow, which very soon lay a foot deep on the ground. In a short time I discovered that I had missed my way. Had I then known the Puna as well as I afterwards did, I should have shaped my course by the flight of birds. But unluckily I pursued the fresh track of a herd of vicunas, which led me directly into a swamp. My mule sank, and was unable to extricate himself. I was almost in despair. Nevertheless, I cautiously alighted, and with incredible difficulty I succeeded in digging out with a dagger the mud in which the animal's legs were firmly fixed, and at length I got him back to a solid footing. After wandering about in various directions, I at length recovered the right path, which was marked by numerous skeletons protruding above the snow. These were the remains of beasts of burthen, which had perished on their journeys; a welcome, though an ominous guide to the wandering traveller. The clouds now suddenly separated, and the blazing light of the tropical sun glared dazzlingly on the white plain of snow. In a moment I felt my eyes stricken with surumpe.

Suffering the most violent pain, and tormented by the apprehension of blindness, I with great difficulty pursued my way. My mule could scarcely wade through the sward, which was becoming more and more thick; and night was advancing. I had lost all feeling in my feet, my benumbed fingers could scarcely hold the bridle, and I well knew that the nearest point at which I could obtain the shelter of a human habitation was eight German miles distant. I was beginning to give myself up for lost, when I observed a cave beneath an overhanging rock. Mother Nature, in whose service I had undertaken my long and perilous wanderings, at that critical juncture, provided for me a retreat, though in one of her rudest sheltering places. I entered the cave, which protected me securely against the wind and the snow. Having unsaddled my mule, I made a bed of my saddle clothes and poncho. I tied the animal to a stone, and whilst he eagerly regaled himself with the little grass that was not buried beneath the snow, I satisfied my hunger with some roasted maize and cheese.

Exhausted by the fatigue of the day, I lay down to sleep; but no sooner had I fallen into a slumber, than I was awaked by a violent smarting in my eyes, occasioned by the surumpe. There was no longer any hope of sleep. The night seemed endless. When the dawn of morning appeared, I made an effort to open my eyes, which were closed with coagulated blood. On looking around me I beheld all the horror of my situation. A human corpse had served for my pillow. Shuddering I went in search of my mule, for I was eager to hurry from this dismal spot; but my misery was not yet at an end. The poor beast lay dead on the ground; in his ravenous hunger he had eaten of the poisonous garbancillo. What could I do! In despair I turned back to the cave.

The sun had now fully risen, and his genial rays diffused warmth over this frozen region. Somewhat roused by the reviving light and life around me, I began to examine the body of my lifeless companion. Haply, thought I, he may be one of my own race; a traveller who has perished of cold and hunger. No. He was a half-caste Indian, and many deadly wounds on his head showed that he had died of the slings of Indian robbers, who had stripped him even of his clothes, and concealed the body in the cave.

I seized my gun and shot a rock rabbit, then collecting some fuel, I kindled a fire, and roasted the little animal, which afforded me a no very savory breakfast. I then waited patiently in the hope that some timely help would deliver me from my dreary situation.

It was about noon. I heard a monotonous short cry. With joy I recognized the well-known sound. I climbed up the nearest rock, and looking down into a hollow, I perceived two Indians whom I had seen the day before, driving their llamas to the nearest mine works. I prevailed on them, by the gift of a little tobacco, to let me have one of their llamas to carry my luggage, and having strewed a few handfuls of earth on the corpse of the murdered man, I departed. The scene of the incidents above described was the Cave of Lenas, in the Altos which lead southward to the Quebrada of Huaitara.

FOOTNOTE:

[Footnote 70: A mine is said to be in boya when it yields an unusually abundant supply of metal. Owing to the great number of mines in Cerro de Pasco, some of them are always in this prolific state. There are times when the boyas bring such an influx of miners to Cerro de Pasco that the population is augmented to double or triple its ordinary amount.]

[Footnote 71: Huachacas are the portions of ore which are distributed among the Indians at the time of the boyas, instead of their wages being paid in money.]

[Footnote 72: A shop in which chicha, brandy, &c., are vended.]

[Footnote 73: The date of Salcedo's death was May, 1669.]

[Footnote 74: Ninacaca is 12,853 feet, and Carhuamayo 13,087 feet above the sea level.]

[Footnote 75: It is also called the Laguna de Reyes, and the Laguna de Junin.]



CHAPTER XIII.

The Sierra—Its Climate and Productions—Inhabitants—Trade—Eggs circulated as money—Mestizos in the Sierra—Their Idleness and Love of Gaming and Betting—Agriculture—The Quinua Plant, a substitute for Potatoes—Growth of Vegetables and Fruits in the Sierra—Rural Festivals at the Seasons of Sowing and Reaping—Skill of the Indians in various Handicrafts—Excess of Brandy-Drinking—Chicha—Disgusting mode of making it—Festivals of Saints—Dances and Bull-Fights—Celebration of Christmas-Day, New-Year's Day, Palm Sunday, and Good Friday—Contributions levied on the Indians—Tardy and Irregular Transmission of Letters—Trade in Mules—General Style of Building in the Towns and Villages of the Sierra—Ceja de la Montana.

The Peruvian highlands, or level heights, described in a previous chapter under the designation of the Puna, are intersected by numerous valleys situated several thousand feet lower than the level heights, from which they totally differ in character and aspect. These valleys are called the Sierra. The inhabitants of Lima usually comprehend under the term Sierra, the whole interior of Peru, and every Indian who is not an inhabitant of the coast, or of the forest regions, is called by them a Serrano. But strictly speaking, the Sierra includes only the valleys between the Cordillera and the Andes, and I shall here use the term in its more limited and proper sense.

In the Sierra there are only two seasons throughout the year. The winter or rainy season commences in October; but the rains are neither so heavy nor so continuous as in the forest districts. The falls of rain seldom last longer than two or three days in succession. Storms of thunder and lightning are very frequent in the Sierra; they are not accompanied by snow as in the Puna, but often by hail. The thermometer never falls below +4 deg. R., and during the daytime it is on the average at +11 deg. R. In April the summer season sets in, bringing with it an uninterrupted succession of warm bright days. The nights in summer are colder than in winter. In a summer night the thermometer will sometimes fall below freezing point, and the cold is often very severe. About noon the heat is oppressive, though the average heat of the day does not exceed 13, 9 deg. R. During the summer season the horizon is frequently obscured by heavy dark clouds, which seldom break over the valleys, but continue frowning over the hills. The natives call these portentous clouds Misti Manchari (terror of the whites),[76] because the inhabitants of the coast always regard them as indicative of stormy weather.

The climate of the Sierra favors the natural fruitfulness of the soil, which richly repays the labor of the husbandman; but plants, peculiar to the warm tropical regions, do not thrive well here. Prior to the European emigration to Peru, only maize, quinua (Chenopodium Quinoa, L.), and a few tuberous roots were grown in the Sierra; but since the Spanish conquest, the European cereals, lucerne, and various kinds of vegetables are cultivated with perfect success. But the eye of the traveller seeks in vain for those stately forests which clothe the mountainous districts of Europe; the barren acclivities afford nurture only for the agave-tree, and some very large species of cactus. Groups of willow trees (Salix Humboldtii), which attain the height of about twenty or twenty-five feet, together with the quinua-tree, form here and there little thickets on the banks of rivers.

These regions, so favored by nature, have from the earliest period been the chosen dwelling-places of the Peruvians; and therefore in the Sierra, which, measured by its superficies, is not of very great extent, the population has increased more than in any other part of Peru. The valleys already contain numerous towns, villages, and hamlets, which would rise in importance, if they had greater facility of communication one with another. But they are surrounded on all sides by mountains, which can be crossed only by circuitous and dangerous routes. The few accessible pathways are alternately up rugged ascents, and down steep declivities; or winding through narrow ravines, nearly choked up by broken fragments of rock, they lead to the dreary and barren level heights.

The Serranos, or inhabitants of the Sierra, especially those who dwell in the smaller villages, are chiefly Indians. In the towns and larger villages, the mestizos are numerous. The whites are very thinly scattered over the Sierra; but many of the mestizos are very anxious to be thought white Creoles. A rich serrano, who bears in his features the stamp of his Indian descent, will frequently try to pass himself off to a foreigner for an old Spaniard. Here, even more than on the coast, the mestizo is ambitious to rank himself on a level with the white, whilst he affects to regard the Indian as an inferior being.

The few Spaniards who reside in the Sierra are men who have served in the Spanish army, and who, at the close of the war of independence, settled in that part of Peru. Many of them keep shops in the towns and villages, and others, by advantageous marriages, have become the possessors of haciendas. Those who have enriched themselves in this way are remarkable alike for ignorance and pride, and give themselves the most ludicrous airs of assumed dignity. The Creoles are the principal dealers in articles of European commerce. They journey to Lima twice or thrice a year to make their purchases, which consist in white and printed calicoes, woollen cloths, hard-wares, leather, soap, wax, and indigo. In the Sierra, indigo is a very considerable article of traffic: the Indians use a great quantity of it for dyeing their clothes; blue being their favorite color. Wax is also in great demand; for in the religious ceremonies, which are almost of daily occurrence, a vast quantity of tapers is consumed. The principal articles of traffic produced by the natives are woollen ponchos and blankets, unspun colored wool, saddle-cloths, stirrups and horseshoes. The last-named articles are purchased chiefly by the arrieros of the coast. It may seem strange that stores of horseshoes should be kept ready made; but so it is; for though in Europe we make the shoe to fit the hoof, yet in Peru it is the practice to cut the hoof to fit the shoe. On Yca brandy more money is expended than on every other article of trade combined. The quantity of that spirit annually transported to the Sierra exceeds belief. To see the Indians on Sundays and festival days thronging to the shops of the spirit dealers, with their jugs and bottles, one might fairly presume that more brandy is drunk in the Sierra in one day, than in many of the towns of Europe in a year. In some parts—for example, in the province of Jauja—hens' eggs are circulated as small coin, forty-eight or fifty being counted for a dollar. In the market-place and in the shops the Indians make most of their purchases with this brittle sort of money: one will give two or three eggs for brandy, another for indigo, and a third for cigars. These eggs are packed in boxes by the shop-keepers, and sent to Lima. From Jauja alone, several thousand loads of eggs are annually forwarded to the capital.

Most of the mestizos possess little estates (chacras), the produce of which, consisting of grain, vegetables and clover, is disposed of in the towns of the Sierra, or in the mining districts of the Puna. As the profits arising from the chacras usually suffice to provide their owners with a comfortable subsistence, the mestizos pass their lives in idleness and pleasure. They spend the chief portion of the day in the true Spanish style, gossiping in groups in the streets, and wrapped in their mantles. When the state of the weather does not admit of this sort of out-door lounging the time is passed in gaming or cock-fighting. This latter diversion is no less in favor in the Sierra than in Lima. Such enormous bets are laid at these cock-fights, that the losses frequently entail ruin on persons of tolerably good fortune.

The agriculture of the Sierra is wholly consigned to the Indians, who either cultivate their own lands, or for very poor wages labor for the mestizos. In September, the ground is ploughed and prepared for sowing, which operation is performed in October, and the reaping takes place in April or May. By this means the seed is left in the ground throughout all the rainy season. In February violent frost frequently comes on during the night, by which the seed is so much injured that the harvest fails, and the scarcity occasions severe suffering and even famine. When the cold clear nights create apprehensions of damage to the seed, the people form themselves into processions, and go through the villages and towns imploring the mercy of Heaven. In the dead of the night it is no unusual thing to be aroused by the ringing of bells. The inhabitants then get up and hurry to church, where the solemn processions are formed. Penitents clothed in sackcloth go through the streets, scourging themselves; and the Indians, in their native language, utter prayers and offer up vows to Heaven. For the space of some hours an incessant movement and agitation pervade the streets, and when day begins to dawn the people return to their homes, trembling between hope and fear. The fate of the Indians, when their harvest fails them, is indeed truly miserable, for, abstemious as they are, they can scarcely procure wherewith to satisfy their hunger. In the year 1840, which was a period of scarcity, I saw the starving Indian children roaming about the fields, and eating the grass like cattle.

Maize is the species of grain most extensively cultivated in the Sierra: it is of excellent quality, though smaller than that grown on the coast. Wheat, though it thrives well, is cultivated only in a very limited quantity, and the bread made from it is exceedingly bad. The other species of European grain, barley excepted, are unknown to the Serranos. To compensate for the want of them, they have the quinua (Chenopodium Quinoa, L.), which is at once a nutritious, wholesome, and pleasant article of food. The leaves of this plant, before it attains full maturity, are eaten like spinach; but it is the seeds which are most generally used as food. They are prepared in a variety of ways, but most frequently boiled in milk or in broth, and sometimes cooked with cheese and Spanish pepper. The dried stems of the quinua are used as fuel. Experiments in the cultivation of this plant have been tried in some parts of Germany, and with considerable success. It would appear, however, that its flavor is not much liked; a circumstance rather surprising to the traveller who has tasted it in Peru, where it is regarded in the light of a delicacy. It were to be wished that the general cultivation of the quinua could be introduced throughout Europe; for during the prevalence of the potatoe disease this plant would be found of the greatest utility. It is a well-known fact that potatoes and tea, two articles now in such universal use, were not liked on their first introduction into Europe. The quinua plant, which yields a wholesome article of food, would thrive perfectly in our hemisphere, and, though in its hitherto limited trial it has not found favor, there is no reason to conclude that it may not at a future time become an object of general consumption.

Four kinds of tuberous plants are successfully cultivated in the Sierra; viz., the potatoe, the ulluco, the oca, and the mashua. Of potatoes there are several varieties, and all grow in perfection. The ulluco (Tropaeolum tuberosum) is smaller than the potatoe, and is very various in its form, being either round, oblong, straight, or curved. The skin is thin, and of a reddish-yellow color, and the inside is green. When simply boiled in water it is insipid, but is very savory when cooked as a picante. The oca (Oxalis tuberosa) is an oval-shaped root; the skin pale red, and the inside white. It is watery, and has a sweetish taste; for which reason it is much liked by the Peruvians. The mashua is the root of a plant as yet unknown to botanists. It is cultivated and cooked in the same manner as those already described. In form, however, it differs from them all. It is of a flat pyramidal shape, and the lower end terminates in a fibrous point. It is watery, and insipid to the taste; but is nevertheless much eaten by the Serranos. As the mashua roots will not keep, they are not transported from the places in which they are grown, and, therefore, are not known in Lima. The Indians use the mashua as a medicine: they consider it an efficacious remedy in cases of dropsy, indigestion, and dysentery.

The vegetables and fruits of Europe thrive luxuriantly in the warm Sierra valleys; yet but few of them have been transplanted thither, and those few are but little esteemed. Some of the cabbage and salad species, together with onions, garlic, and several kinds of pulse, are all that are cultivated. It is remarkable that in these regions no indigenous fruit-trees are to be seen. The only fruit really belonging to the Sierra is the Tuna. In some of the sheltered ravines, or, as they are called, Quebradas, oranges, lemons, and granadillas flourish at the height of 10,000 feet above sea level. The fruits which have been transplanted from Europe are for the most part indifferent, as not the least care is bestowed on their cultivation. The effect of this neglect is particularly obvious in apples, pears, and damson-plums. Cherries and chestnuts are unknown in these parts; but on the other hand, peaches and apricots (duraznos) grow in amazing abundance, and many very fine species are found, especially in the southern provinces. Excursions to the duraznales (apricot gardens), in the months of April and May, to eat the ripe fruit fresh plucked from the trees, are among the most favorite recreations of the Serranos. Some of the Sierra districts are celebrated throughout Peru for their abundance of fruit. This luxuriance is particularly remarkable in several of the deep valleys, for instance, in Huanta; but, strictly speaking, these deep valleys partake less of the character of the Sierra than of the higher forest regions.

The periods of sowing and reaping are celebrated by the Indians with merry-making, a custom which has descended from the time of the Incas, when those periods corresponded with the two great divisions of the year. Even a scanty harvest, an event of frequent occurrence, occasions no interruption to these rustic festivals. Bands of music, consisting of trumpets, fiddles, and flutes, play whilst the corn is cut down, and during their work, the laborers freely regale themselves with chicha, huge barrels of which are placed for their unrestrained use. The consequence is, that they are almost continually intoxicated; and yet whilst in this state it is no unusual thing to see them dancing with heavy loads of sheaves on their heads. Their dinner is cooked in the fields, in large pots and kettles, and to partake of it they all sit down on the ground in rows, one behind another. The wheat and barley when cut are spread out in little heaps on the ground, and, instead of thrashing, the grain is pressed out of the ears by the tramping of horses, the animals being driven round and round in a circle. As soon as this process is ended, the agents of the Government and the priests make their appearance to claim the tithes.

In the larger villages and towns of the Sierra, the Indians frequently employ themselves in handicrafts, in some of which they attain a high degree of perfection, for they are not wanting either in talent or in mechanical dexterity. As goldsmiths they are remarkably skilful, and in this branch of industry they produce work which, for taste and exquisite finish, cannot be excelled in the capitals of Europe. The various kinds of vessels and figures of silver wire (filigranas), made by the cholos in Ayacucho, have always been favorite articles of ornament in Spain. The Indians of Jauja are very skilful in working iron, and the objects of their workmanship are much esteemed throughout Peru. Of leather also they make various things in very beautiful style; and saddle-cloths, bridles, &c., of their manufacture are much more elegant and infinitely cheaper than those made in Lima. In Cuzco and the adjacent provinces many of the Indians evince considerable talent in oil-painting. Their productions in this way are, of course, far from being master-pieces; but when we look on the paintings which decorate their churches, and reflect that the artists have been shut out from the advantages of education and study; and moreover, when we consider the coarse materials with which the pictures have been painted, it must be acknowledged that they indicate a degree of talent, which, if duly cultivated, would soar far above mediocrity. In Tarma and its neighborhood the natives weave an exquisitely fine description of woollen cloth. They make ponchos of vicuna wool, which sell for 100 or 120 dollars each, and which are equal to the finest European cloth. The beauty of these Indian textures is truly wonderful, considering the rude process of weaving practised by the natives. They work various colors, figures, and inscriptions in the cloth, and do all this with a rapidity which equals the operations of ordinary looms. The most valuable textures they weave are those produced from the wool of the vicuna and the alpaco. They likewise make very fine textures of cotton and silk. It is curious that the Indians of each province have some particular branch of industry to which they exclusively apply themselves, to the neglect of all others.

The Serranos are a very sociable people. In the towns they keep up a continual round of evening parties, in which singing and dancing are favorite amusements; but on these occasions they indulge in brandy-drinking to a terrible excess. As soon as a party is assembled, bottles and glasses are introduced, and each individual, ladies as well as gentlemen, drinks to the health of the company. For a party of thirty or more persons, not more than three or four glasses are brought in, so that one glass is passed repeatedly from hand to hand, and from mouth to mouth. The quantity of brandy drunk at one of the evening parties called in the Sierra Jaranas, is almost incredible. According to my observation, I should say that a bottle to each individual, ladies included, is a fair average estimate, the bottles being of the size of those used in Europe for claret. In the year 1839, whilst I was residing for a time in one of the largest towns of the Sierra, a ball was given in honor of the Chilian General Bulnes; on that occasion the brandy flowed in such quantities, that, when morning came, some members of the company were found lying on the floor of the ball-room in a state of intoxication. These facts naturally create an impression very unfavorable to the inhabitants of the Sierra; but a due allowance must be made for the want of education and the force of habit on the part of those who fall into these excesses. These people possess so many excellent moral qualities, that it would be unjust to condemn them solely on account of these orgies. The Serrano is far from being addicted to habitual drunkenness, notwithstanding his intemperate use of strong drinks amidst the excitement of company.

But if the vice of excessive drinking be occasionally indulged in among the better class of people of the Sierra, it is much more frequent among the Indian inhabitants. Every one of their often-recurring festivals is celebrated by a drinking bout, at which enormous quantities of brandy and chicha are consumed. In some districts of the Sierra the chicha is prepared in a peculiar and very disgusting manner by the Indians. Instead of crushing the jora (dried maize-grain) between two stones, which is the usual method, the Indians bruise it with their teeth. For this purpose a group of men and women range themselves in a circle round a heap of jora; each gathers up a handful, chews it, and then ejects it from the mouth into a vessel allotted for its reception. This mass, after being boiled in water, and left to ferment, is the much admired chicha mascada (that is to say, chewed chicha), the flavor of which is said to surpass that of the same beverage made in any other way. But they who have been eye-witnesses of the disgusting process, and who bear in mind various other preparations of Indian cookery in which the teeth perform a part, require some fortitude ere they yield to the pressing invitation of the hospitable Serrano, and taste the proffered nectar.

When it is wished to make the chicha particularly strong and well flavored, it is poured into an earthen jar along with several pounds of beef. This jar is made perfectly air-tight, and buried several feet deep in the ground, where it is left for the space of several years. On the birth of a child it is customary to bury a botija full of chicha, which, on the marriage of the same child, is opened and drunk. This chicha has a very agreeable flavor, but is so exceedingly potent, that a single glass of it is sufficient to intoxicate a practised chicha-drinker, or, as they say in the country, a chichero.

Every village in the Sierra has its own tutelary saint, whose festival is celebrated with great solemnity. Bull-fights and dances constitute the principal diversions on these occasions. These dances are relics of the Raymi or monthly dances, by which the Incas used to mark the divisions of time; and they are among the most interesting customs peculiar to these parts of Peru. The dancers wear dresses similar to those worn by the ancient Peruvians when they took part in the Raymi. Their faces and arms are painted in various colors, and they wear feather caps and feather ponchos. They have bracelets and anklets, and they are armed with clubs, wooden swords, and bows and arrows. Their music, too, is also similar to that of their forefathers. Their instruments consist of a sort of pipe or flute made of reed, and a drum composed simply of a hoop with a skin stretched upon it. To the inharmonious sound of these instruments, accompanying monotonous Quichua songs, the dances commence with those solemn movements with which the Incas used to worship the sun: they then suddenly assume a more joyous character, and at last change to the wild war-dance, in which the mimic contest, stimulated by copious libations of chicha, frequently ends in a real fight. In the larger towns, where the Mestizo portion of the population predominates, these dances are discouraged, and in course of time they will probably be entirely discontinued, though they are scrupulously adhered to by the Indians.

On festival days, bull-fights constitute the most favorite popular diversion. In the Sierra this barbarous sport is conducted with even more recklessness and cruelty than in the Corridas of Lima. Every occasion on which an entertainment of this sort takes place is attended with loss of life, and sometimes the sacrifice both of men and horses is very considerable. During my residence in Jauja, fourteen Indians and nineteen horses were killed or seriously wounded in a bull-fight; yet catastrophes of this kind appear to make no impression on the people.

Some of the church festivals are celebrated by the Indians of the Sierra, in a manner which imparts a peculiar coloring to the religious solemnities. In the midnight mass on Christmas Eve, they imitate in the churches the sounds made by various animals. The singing of birds, the crowing of cocks, the braying of asses, the bleating of sheep, &c., are simulated so perfectly, that a stranger is inclined to believe that the animals have assembled in the temple to participate in the solemnity. At the termination of the mass, troops of women perambulate the streets, during the remainder of the night. Their long black hair flows loosely over their bare shoulders; and in their hands they carry poles with long fluttering strips of paper fixed to the ends of them. They occasionally dance and sing peculiarly beautiful melodies, accompanied by a harp, a fiddle, and a flute; and they mark the measure of the music by the movement of their poles.

The celebration of Christmas-day is marked by the appearance of what are termed the Negritos. These are Indians, with their faces concealed by hideous negro masks. Their dress consists of a loose red robe, richly wrought with gold and silver thread, white pantaloons, and their hats are adorned with waving black feathers. In their hands they carry gourd bottles, painted in various gay colors, and containing dried seeds. Whilst they sing, the Negritos shake these gourds, and mark the time by the rattling of the dried seeds. They perform the dances of the Guinea negroes, and imitate the attitudes and language of a race which they hold in abhorrence and contempt. For the space of three days and nights these negritos parade the streets, entering the houses and demanding chicha and brandy, with which the inhabitants are glad to supply them, to avoid violence and insult.

On New Year's Day other groups of mummers, called Corcobados, perambulate the streets. They are enveloped in cloaks of coarse grey woollen cloth, their head-gear consists of an old vicuna hat, with a horse's tail dangling behind. Their features are disguised by ludicrous masks with long beards; and, bestriding long sticks or poles, they move about accompanied by burlesque music. Every remarkable incident that has occurred in the families of the town during the course of the year, is made the subject of a song in the Quichua language; and these songs are sung in the streets by the Corcobados. Matrimonial quarrels are favorite subjects, and are always painted with high comic effect in these satirical songs. The Corcobados go about for two days; and they usually wind up their performances by drinking and fighting. When two groups of these Corcobados meet together, and the one party assails with ridicule anything which the other is disposed to defend, a terrible affray usually ensues, and the sticks which have served as hobby-horses, are converted into weapons of attack.

In order to facilitate the conversion of the idolatrous Indians, the Spanish monks who accompanied Pizarro's army, sought to render the Christian religion as attractive as possible in the eyes of the heathen aborigines of Peru. With this view they conceived the idea of dramatizing certain scenes in the life of Christ, and having them represented in the churches. In the larger towns these performances have long since been discontinued, but they are still kept up in most of the villages of the Sierra; indeed the efforts made by enlightened ecclesiastics for their suppression, have been met with violent opposition on the part of the Indians.

On Palm Sunday, an image of the Saviour seated on an ass is paraded about the principal streets of the town or village. The Indians strew twigs of palm over the animal, and contend one with another for the honor of throwing their ponchos down on the ground, in order that the ass may walk over them. The animal employed in this ceremony is, when very young, singled out for the purpose, and is never suffered to carry any burthen save the holy image. He is fed by the people, and at every door at which he stops, the inmates of the house pamper him up with the best fodder they can procure. The ass is looked upon as something almost sacred, and is never named by any other appellation than the Burro de Nuestro Senor (our Lord's ass). In some villages I have seen these animals so fat that they were scarcely able to walk.

Good Friday is solemnized in a manner the effect of which, to the unprejudiced foreigner, is partly burlesque and partly seriously impressive. From the early dawn of morning the church is thronged with Indians, who spend the day in fasting and prayer. At two in the afternoon a large image of the Saviour is brought from the sacristy and laid down in front of the altar. Immediately all the persons in the church rush forward with pieces of cotton to touch the wounds. This gives rise to a struggle, in which angry words and blows are interchanged; in short, there ensues a disgraceful scene of uproar, which is only checked by the interposition of one of the priests. Order being restored, the sacred image is fixed on the cross by three very large silver nails, and the head is encircled by a rich silver crown. On each side are the crosses of the two thieves. Having gaped at this spectacle to their hearts' content, the cholos retire from the church. At eight in the evening they reassemble to witness the solemn ceremony of taking down the Saviour from the cross. The church is then brilliantly lighted up. At the foot of the cross stand four white-robed priests, called los Santos Varones (the holy men), whose office it is to take down the image. At a little distance from them, on a sort of stage or platform, stands a figure representing the Virgin Mary. This figure is dressed in black, with a white cap on its head. A priest, in a long discourse, explains the scene to the assembled people, and at the close of the address, turning to the Santos Varones, he says, "Ye holy men, ascend the ladders of the cross, and bring down the body of the Redeemer!" Two of the Santos Varones mount with hammers in their hands, and the priest then says, "Ye holy man, on the right of the Saviour, strike the first blow on the nail of the hand, and take it out!" The command is obeyed, and no sooner is the stroke of the hammer heard, than deep groans and sounds of anguish resound through the church; whilst the cry of "Misericordia! misericordia!" repeated by a thousand imploring voices, produces an indescribable sensation of awe and melancholy. The nail is handed to one of the priests standing at the foot of the altar, who transfers it to another, and this one in his turn presents it to the figure of the Virgin. To that figure the priest then turns and addresses himself, saying: "Thou afflicted mother, approach and receive the nail which pierced the right hand of thy holy Son!" The priest steps forward a few paces, and the figure, by some concealed mechanism, advances to meet him, receives the nail with both hands, lays it on a silver plate, dries its eyes, and then returns to its place in the middle of the platform. The same ceremony is repeated when the two other nails are taken out. Throughout the whole performance of these solemnities, an uninterrupted groaning and howling is kept up by the Indians, who at every stroke of the hammer raise their cries of Misericordia! These sounds of anguish reach their climax when the priest consigns the body of the Saviour to the charge of the Virgin. The image is laid in a coffin tastefully adorned with flowers, which, together with the figure of the Virgin Mary, is paraded through the streets. Whilst this nocturnal procession, lighted by thousands of wax tapers, is making the circuit of the town, a party of Indians busy themselves in erecting before the church door twelve arches decorated with flowers. Between every two of the arches they lay flowers on the ground, arranging them in various figures and designs. These flower-carpets are singularly ingenious and pretty. Each one is the work of two cholos, neither of whom seems to bestow any attention to what his comrade is doing; and yet, with a wonderful harmony of operation, they create the most tasteful designs—arabesques, animals, and landscapes, which grow, as it were by magic, under their hands. Whilst I was in Tarma, I was at once interested and astonished to observe on one of these flower-carpets the figure of the Austrian double eagle. On inquiry I learned from an Indian that it had been copied from the quicksilver jars, exported from Idria to Peru. On the return of the procession to the church, a hymn, with harp accompaniment, is sung to the Virgin, as the figure is carried under the arches of flowers. The bier of the Saviour is then deposited in the church, where it is watched throughout the night.

On the following morning, at four o'clock, the ceremony of hanging Judas takes place in front of the church. A figure of Judas, the size of life, is filled with squibs and crackers, and is frequently made to bear a resemblance to some obnoxious inhabitant of the place. After the match is applied to the combustible figure, the cholos dance around it, and exult in the blowing up of their enemy.

In the Sierra, as well as on the coast, the priests are usually the tyrants rather than the guardians of their flocks; and they would frequently be the objects of hatred and vengeance but for the deep-rooted and almost idolatrous reverence which the Indians cherish for priestcraft. It is disgusting to see the Peruvian priests, who usually treat the Indians like brutes, behaving with the most degrading servility when they want to get money from them. The love of the Indians for strong drinks is a vice which the priests turn to their own advantage. For the sake of the fees they frequently order religious festivals, which are joyfully hailed by the Indians, because they never fail to end in drinking bouts.

Added to the ill treatment of the priests, the Indians are most unjustly oppressed by the civil authorities. In the frequent movements of troops from one place to another, they are exposed to great losses and vexations. They are compelled to perform the hardest duties without payment, and often the produce of their fields is laid under contribution, or their horses and mules are pressed into the service of the military. When intelligence is received of the march of a battalion, the natives convey their cattle to some remote place of concealment in the mountains, for they seldom recover possession of them if once they fall into the hands of the soldiery.

Every fortnight a mail is despatched with letters from Lima to Tarma, Jauja, Huancavelica, Ayacucha, Cuzco, and into Bolivia; another proceeds to the northern provinces; a third to Arequipa and the southern provinces; and every week one is despatched to Cerro de Pasco. In Lima, the letter-bag is consigned to the charge of an Indian, who conveys it on the back of a mule to the next station,[77] where it is received by another Indian; and in this manner, handed from cholo to cholo, the letter-bag traverses the whole of its destined route, unaccompanied by an official courier. As soon as the mail arrives at a station, a flag is displayed at the house of the post-master, to intimate to those who expect letters that they may receive them; for they are not sent round to the persons to whom they are addressed, and it is sometimes even a favor to get them three or four days after their arrival. The Peruvian post is as tardy as it is ill-regulated. On one of my journeys, I started from Lima two days after the departure of the mail. On the road I overtook and passed the Indian who had charge of the letters, and, without hurrying myself, I arrived in Tarma a day and a half before him. Ascending the Cordillera, I once met an Indian very leisurely driving his ass before him with the mail-bag fastened to its back. Between the towns which do not lie in the regular line of route, there is no post-office communication; for example, between Pasco and Caxamarca, or between Pasco and Tarma, or Jauja; and when it is wished to despatch letters from one to another of these towns, private messengers must be employed. The consequence is, that business, which in Europe would be conducted through the medium of correspondence, can be arranged only by personal communication in Peru. Travelling is difficult, but not very expensive, as every one possesses horses or mules.

The best mules employed in the Sierra are obtained from the province of Tucuman in Buenos Ayres. Formerly the arrieros used annually to bring droves of several thousand mules through Bolivia and the Peruvian Sierra, selling as many as they could on the way, and taking to Cerro de Pasco those that remained unsold. During the Spanish domination, the mule trade was in the hands of the Government, to whose agents it afforded ample opportunity for the exercise of injustice and extortion. It was one of the most oppressive of the repartimientos.[78] Every Indian was compelled to purchase a mule, and was not allowed even the privilege of choosing the animal. The mules were distributed by the authorities, and were tied to the doors of the houses for whose occupants they were destined. After the distribution of the mules, a collector went round to receive the payment. During the war in Buenos Ayres the traffic in mules suffered very considerably. For the space of twelve years not a mule had been brought from that part of South America to Peru, when in 1840 the Tucumanians revisited the Sierra with their droves of mules. They were joyfully welcomed by the Serranos, who gave good prices for the animals, and since then the traffic has begun to revive.

In tracing the characteristic features of the Sierra, I have as far as possible confined myself to generalities, and I will not now weary the reader by entering upon a minute description of particular towns and villages. All are built pretty nearly after one model. The large quadrangular Plaza is closed on three of its sides with buildings, among which there is always the Government house (cabildo), and the public jail; the fourth side is occupied by a church. From this Plaza run in straight lines eight streets, more or less broad, and these streets are crossed at right angles by others; all presenting the same uniformity as in Lima. The houses are roomy, surrounded by court-yards, and consist of a ground-floor and a story above, but very frequently of the ground-floor only. The walls are of brick, and the roofs are tiled. The churches are in very bad taste, with the exception of a few in the larger towns, which have a good appearance externally, and are richly decorated within. The smaller Indian villages are poor and dirty, and are built with little attention to regularity. But even in them the quadrangular Plaza is never wanting, and at least four straight streets issue from it.

The Sierra is by far the most populous part of Peru. The banks of the rivers flowing through the fertile valleys are thickly clustered with villages, which give a peculiar charm to the landscape, doubly pleasing to the eye of the traveller who comes from the barren parts of the country. The cultivated lands afford evidence of progressive improvement, and it is easy to imagine the flourishing condition to which this country might arrive with increased population.

From the Sierra two separate roads lead to the eastern declivity of the Andes. One lies along the banks of the mountain rivers, and the other passes over the ridges of the mountains. The first way is very difficult, and scarcely practicable, for in some parts the streams flow through narrow ravines, bordered on each side by perpendicular rocks, and occasionally their course is hidden amidst impenetrable forests. The other way, across the mountains, leads again into the Puna region, and from thence over the steep ridges of the Andes to their barren summits. Descending from these summits, we arrive on the sharp ridges of one of the many side branches of the Puna Cordillera, which run eastward. The Peruvians call these sharp mountain ridges Cuchillas (knives). After crossing the Andes, and descending a few hundred feet lower, in the direction of the east, the traveller beholds a country totally different from that which he left on the western declivity of the mountains. On the eastern side the soil is richly covered with vegetation. From the cuchillas the road ascends to some higher ridges, crowned with stunted trees and brushwood, which, gradually spreading upward, blend with the high forests. These wooded ridges are called by the natives Ceja de la Montana (the mist of the mountains). In these regions the climate is generally more mild than in the Sierra, for the mercury never falls to freezing point, and in the middle part of the day it never rises so high as in the warm Sierra valleys. Throughout the whole year the Ceja de la Montana is overshadowed by thick mists, rising from the rivers in the valleys. In the dry season these mists are absorbed by the sun's rays, but in winter they float in thick clouds over the hills, and discharge themselves in endless torrents of rain. The damp vapors have an injurious effect on the health of the inhabitants of these districts, which are, however, very thinly populated, as the constant moisture unfits the soil for the cultivation of anything except potatoes. The pure alpine air of the Puna is preferred by the Indians to the vapory atmosphere of the Ceja.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 76: The Indians apply the designation Misti, meaning Mestizo, to all persons except Indians or Negroes, whether they be Europeans or White Creoles.]