Fortunately, the river is free from crocodiles, which are first met with in the upper course of the Amazon, below the cataract of Mayasi; for the slothful animal prefers to live in the more tranquil waters. According to my calculation, the Rio de Chamaya has a fall[[119]] of 1778 feet, in the short distance of 52 geographical miles; that is to say, measuring from the Ford (Paso) de Pucara, to the point where the Chamaya disembogues in the river Amazon, below the village of Choros. The Governor of the province Jaen de Bracamoros assured me, that letters sent by the singular water post conveyance just mentioned, are seldom either wetted or lost. After my return from Mexico, I myself received, when in Paris, letters from Tomependa, which had been transmitted in this manner. Many of the wild Indian tribes, who dwell on the shores of the Upper Amazon, perform their journeys in a similar manner; swimming sociably down the stream in parties. On one occasion, I saw the heads of thirty or forty individuals, men, women, and children, of the tribe of the Xibaros, as they floated down the stream on their way to Tomependa. The Correo que nada returns by land, taking the difficult route of the Paramo del Paredon.

On approaching the hot climate of the basin of the Amazon, the aspect of beautiful and occasionally very luxuriant vegetation delights the eye. Not even in the Canary Islands, nor on the warm coasts of Cumana and Caracas, had we beheld finer orange-trees than those which we met with in the Huertas de Pucara. They consisted chiefly of the sweet orange-tree (Citrus aurantium, Risso); the bitter orange-tree (Citrus vulgaris, Risso) was less numerous. These trees, laden with their golden fruit in thousands, attain there a height of between 60 and 70 feet; and their branches, instead of growing in such a way as to give the trees rounded tops or crowns, shoot straight up like those of the laurel. Near the ford of Cavico a very unexpected sight surprised us. We saw a grove of small trees, about 18 or 19 feet high, the leaves of which, instead of being green, appeared to be of a rose colour. This proved to be a new species of Bougainvillæa, a genus first determined by Jussieu the elder, from a Brazilian specimen in Commerson’s Herbarium. But on a nearer approach we found that these trees were really without leaves, properly so called, and that what, from a distant view, we had mistaken for leaves, were bright rose-coloured bracts. Owing to the purity and freshness of the colour, the effect was totally different from that of the hue which so pleasingly clothes many of our forest-trees in autumn. The Rhopala ferruginea, a species of the South African family of the Proteaceæ, has found its way hither, having descended from the cool heights of the Paramo de Yamoca into the warm plains of the Chamaya. We likewise frequently saw here the beautifully pinnated Porlieria hygrometrica, one of the Zygophylleæ, which, by the closing of its leaves, indicates change of weather, generally the approach of rain. This plant is more certain in its tokens than any of the Mimosaceæ, and it very rarely deceived us.

At Chamaya we found rafts (balsas) in readiness to convey us to Tomependa, where we wished to determine the difference of longitude between Quito and the mouth of the Chinchipe; a point of some importance to the geography of South America on account of an old observation of La Condamine[[120]]. We slept as usual in the open air, and our resting-place was on the sandy shore called the Playa de Guayanchi, at the confluence of the Rio de Chamaya and the Amazon. Next morning we proceeded down the latter river as far as the Cataract and the Narrows, or the Pongo of Rentema. Pongo, the name given to River Narrows by the natives, is a corruption of the word Puncu, which, in the Quichua language, signifies a door or gate. In the Pongo de Rentema huge masses of rock consisting of coarse-grained sandstone (conglomerate), rise up like towers and form a rocky dam across the stream. I measured a base line on the flat sandy shore, and found that the Amazon River, which, further eastwards, spreads into such mighty width, is, at Tomependa, scarcely 1400 feet broad. In the celebrated River Narrows, called the Pongo de Manseriche, between Santiago and San Borja, the breadth is less than 160 feet. The Pongo de Manseriche is formed by a mountain ravine, in some parts of which the overhanging rocks, roofed by a canopy of foliage, permit only a feeble light to penetrate, and by the force of the current all the drift-wood, consisting of trunks of trees in countless numbers, is broken and dashed to atoms. The rocks by which all these Pongos are formed, have, in the course of centuries, undergone many changes. The Pongo de Rentema, which I have mentioned above, was, a year before my visit to it, in part broken up by a high flood; indeed the inhabitants of the shores of the Amazon still preserve by tradition a lively recollection of the sudden fall of the once lofty masses of rock along the whole length of the Pongo. This fall took place in the early part of the last century, and the debris suddenly dammed up the river and impeded the current. The consequence was, that the inhabitants of the village of Puyaya, situated at the lower part of the Pongo de Rentema, were filled with alarm on beholding the dry bed of the river; but, after the lapse of a few hours, the waters recovered their usual course. There appears to be no reason for believing that these remarkable phenomena are occasioned by earthquakes. The river, which has a very strong current, seems, as it were, to be incessantly labouring to improve its bed. Of the force of its efforts some idea may be formed from the fact that, notwithstanding its vast breadth, it sometimes rises upwards of 26 feet above its ordinary level in the space of 20 or 30 hours.

We remained seventeen days in the hot valley of the Marañon or the Amazon River. To proceed from thence to the coast of the Pacific it is necessary to cross the chain of the Andes, between Micuipampa and Caxamarca (in 6° 57′ S. lat., and 78° 34′ W. long.), at a point where, according to my observations, it is intersected by the magnetic equator. At a still higher elevation are situated the celebrated silver mines of Chota. Then, after having passed the ancient Caxamarca (the scene, 316 years ago, of the most sanguinary drama in the history of the Spanish Conquista), and also Aroma and Guangamarca, the route descends, with some interruptions, into the Peruvian lowlands. Here, as in nearly all parts of the Andes, as well as of the Mexican Mountains, the highest points are picturesquely marked by tower-like masses of erupted porphyry and trachyte, the former frequently presenting the effect of immense columns. In some places these masses give a rugged cliff-like aspect to the mountain ridges; and in other places they assume the form of domes or cupolas. They have here broken through a formation, which, in South America, is extensively developed on both sides of the equator, and which Leopold von Buch, after profound research, has pronounced to be cretaceous. Between Guambos and Montan, nearly 12,800 feet above the level of the sea, we found marine fossils[[121]] (Ammonites about 15 inches in diameter, the large Pecten alatus, oyster-shells, Echini, Isocardias, and Exogyra polygona). A species of Cidaris, which, in the opinion of Leopold von Buch, does not differ from one found by Brongniart in the old chalk at the Perte du Rhone, we collected in the basin of the Amazon at Tomependa, and likewise at Micuipampa; that is to say, at elevations differing the one from the other by no less than 10,550 feet. In like manner, in the Amuich chain of the Caucasian Daghestan, the chalk of the banks of the Sulak, scarcely 530 feet above the level of the sea, is again found on the Tchunum, at the elevation of full 9,600 feet, whilst, on the summit of the Shadagh Mountain, 13,950 feet high, the Ostrea diluviana (Goldf.), and the same chalk, present themselves. Abich’s admirable Caucasian observations furnish the most decided confirmation of Leopold von Buch’s geognostic views respecting the cretaceous Alpine development.

From the solitary farm of Montan, surrounded with flocks of Lamas, we ascended further southward the eastern declivity of the Cordilleras, until we reached the level height in which is situated the argentiferous mountain Gualgayoc, the principal site of the far-famed mines of Chota. Night was just drawing in, and an extraordinary spectacle presented itself to our observation. The Cerro de Gualgayoc is separated by a deep cleft-like valley (Quebrada), from the limestone mountain Cormolache. The latter is an isolated hornstone rock, presenting, on the northern and western sides, almost perpendicular precipices, and containing innumerable veins of silver, which frequently intersect and run into each other. The highest shafts are 1540 feet above the floor of the stoll or groundwork, called the Socabon de Espinachi. The outline of the mountain is broken by numerous tower-like points and pyramidal notches; and hence the summit of the Cerro de Gualgayoc bears the name of Las Puntas. This mountain presents a most decided contrast to that smoothness of surface which miners are accustomed to regard as characteristic of metalliferous districts. “Our mountain,” said a wealthy mine-owner whom we visited, “looks like an enchanted castle (como si fuese un castillo encantado).” The Gualgayoc bears some resemblance to a cone of dolomite, but it is still more like the notched ridges of the Mountain of Monserrat in Catalonia, which I have also visited, and which has been so pleasingly described by my brother. Not only is the silver mountain Gualgayoc perforated on every side, and to its very summit, by many hundred large shafts, but the mass of the siliceous rock is cleft by natural openings, through which the dark blue sky of these elevated regions is visible to the observer standing at the foot of the mountain. The people of the country call these openings windows (Las ventanillas de Gualgayoc). On the trachytic walls of the volcano of Pichincha similar openings were pointed out to us, and there, likewise, they were called windows, (Ventanillas de Pichincha.) The singular aspect of the Gualgayoc is not a little increased by numerous sheds and habitations, which lie scattered like nests over the fortress-looking mountain wherever a level spot admits of their erection. The miners carry the ore in baskets, down steep and dangerous footpaths, to the places where it is submitted to the process of amalgamation.

The value of the silver obtained from the mines of Gualgayoc during the first thirty years of their being worked, from 1771 to 1802, is supposed to have amounted to upwards of thirty-two millions of piastres. Notwithstanding the hardness of the quartzose rock, the Peruvians, even before the arrival of the Spaniards, extracted rich argentiferous galena from the Cerro de la Lin, and also from the Chupiquiyacu; of this fact many old shafts and galleries bear evidence. The Peruvians also obtained gold from the Curimayo, where also natural sulphur is found in the quartz rock as well as in the Brazilian Itacolumite. We took up our temporary abode, in the vicinity of the mines, in the little mountain town of Micuipampa, situated at an elevation of 11,873 feet above the sea, and where, though only 6° 43′ from the equator, water freezes within doors, at night, during a great part of the year. This wilderness, almost devoid of vegetation, is inhabited by 3000 or 4000 persons, who are supplied with articles of food from the warm valleys, as they themselves can grow nothing but some kinds of cabbage and salad, the latter exceedingly good. Here, as in all the mining towns of Peru, ennui drives the richer inhabitants, who, however, are not the best informed class, to the dangerous diversions of cards and dice. The consequence is, that the wealth thus quickly won is still more quickly spent. Here one is continually reminded of the anecdote related of one of the soldiers of Pizarro’s army, who complained that he had lost in one night’s play, “a large piece of the sun,” meaning a plate of gold which he had obtained at the plunder of the Temple of Cuzco. At Micuipampa the thermometer, at eight in the morning, stood at 34°.2, and at noon, at 47°.8 Fahrenheit. Among the thin Ichhu-grass (possibly our Stipa eriostachya), we found a beautiful Calceolaria (C. Sibthorpioides), which we should not have expected to see at such an elevation.

Near the town of Micuipampa there is a high plain called the Llano or the Pampa de Navar. In this plain there have been found, extending over a surface of more than four English square miles, and immediately under the turf, immense masses of red gold ore and wire-like threads of pure silver. These are called by the Peruvian miners remolinos, clavos, and vetas manteadas, and they are overgrown by the roots of the Alpine grasses. Another level plain, to the west of the Purgatorio, and near the Quebrada de Chiquera, is called the Choropampa (the Muscle-Shell Plain), the word churu signifying in the Quichua language a muscle or cockle, particularly a small eatable kind, which the people of the country now distinguish by their Spanish names hostion or mexillon. The name Choropampa refers to fossils of the cretaceous formation, which in this plain are found in such immense numbers that at an early period they attracted the attention of the natives. In the Choropampa there has been found near the surface of the earth, a rich mass of pure gold, spun round, as it were, with threads of silver. This fact proves how slight may be the affinity between many of the ores upheaved from the interior of the earth, through fissures and veins, and the nature of the adjacent rock, and how little relative antiquity exists between them and that of the formation they have broken through. The rock of the Gualgayoc, as well as that of the Fuentestiana, is very watery, whilst in the Purgatorio perfect dryness prevails. In the Purgatorio, notwithstanding the height of the strata above the sea-level, I found to my astonishment, that the temperature in the mine was 67°.4 Fahr., whilst in the neighbouring Mina de Guadalupe the water in the mine was about 52°.2 Fahr. In the open air the thermometer indicates only 42°.1 Fahr., and the miners, who labour very hard, and who work almost without clothing, say that the subterranean heat in the Purgatorio is stifling.

The narrow path from Micuipampa to the ancient Inca city Caxamarca is difficult even for mules. The original name of the town was Cassamarca or Kazamarca, that is to say, the City of Frost. Marca, in the signification of a district or town, belongs to the northern dialect of the Chinchaysuyo, or the Chinchasuyu, whilst in the common Quichua language the word means the story of a house, and also a fortress and place of defence. For the space of five or six miles, the road led us through a succession of Paramos, where we were without intermission exposed to the fury of a boisterous wind and the sharp angular hail peculiar to the ridges of the Andes. The height of the road is for the most part between 9600 and 10,700 feet above the sea-level. There I had the opportunity of making a magnetic observation of general interest, viz., for determining the point where the north inclination of the needle passes into the south inclination, and also the point at which the traveller has to cross the magnetic equator[[122]].

Having at length reached the last of these mountain wildernesses, the Paramo de Yanaguanga, the traveller joyfully looks down into the fertile valley of Caxamarca. It presents a charming prospect, for the valley, through which winds a little serpentine rivulet, is an elevated plain of an oval form, in extent from 96 to 112 square miles. The plain bears a resemblance to that of Bogota, and like it is probably the bed of an ancient lake; but in Caxamarca there is wanting the myth of the miracle-working Botchia, or Idacanzas, the High Priest of Iraca, who opened a passage for the waters through the rocks of Tequendama. Caxamarca lies 640 feet higher than Santa Fé de Bogota, and consequently its elevation is equal to that of the city of Quito; but being sheltered by surrounding mountains, its climate is much more mild and agreeable. The soil of Caxamarca is extraordinarily fertile. In every direction are seen cultivated fields and gardens, intersected by avenues of willows, varieties of the Datura (bearing large red, white, and yellow flowers), Mimosas, and beautiful Quinuar trees (our Polylepsis villosa, a Rosacea approximating to the Alchemilla and Sanguisorba). The wheat harvest in the Pampa de Caxamarca is, on the average, from fifteen to twenty-fold; but the prospect of abundant crops is sometimes blighted by night frosts, caused by the radiation of heat towards the cloudless sky, in the strata of dry and rarefied mountain air. These night frosts are not felt within the roofed dwellings.

Small mounds, or hillocks, of porphyry (once perhaps islands in the ancient lake) are studded over the northern part of the plain, and break the wide expanse of smooth sandstone. From the summit of one of these porphyry hillocks, we enjoyed a most beautiful prospect of the Cerro de Santa Polonia. The ancient residence of Atahuallpa is on this side, surrounded by fruit gardens, and irrigated fields of lucern (Medicago sativa), called by the people here Campos de alfalfa. In the distance are seen columns of smoke, rising from the warm baths of Pultamarca, which still hear the name of Baños del Inca. I found the temperature of these sulphuric springs to be 156°.2 Fahr. Atahuallpa was accustomed to spend a portion of each year at these baths, where some slight remains of his palace have survived the ravages of the Conquistadores. The large deep basin or reservoir (el tragadero) for supplying these baths with water, appeared to me, judging from its regular circular form, to have been artificially cut in the sandstone rock, over one of the fissures whence the spring flows. Tradition records that one of the Inca’s sedan-chairs, made of gold, was sunk in this basin, and that all endeavours to recover it have proved vain.