At Huaramayo the temperature is intermediate between that of Sierra and the coast; and, as in the warm inland valleys in the centre of the Andes, so here, in a region of corresponding benignancy on the western acclivity of the same great mountain pile, we have the tree called molle, or mulli, in abundance along the river’s edge. This tree is much prized as fuel; and the sugar-refiners of the interior use the ashes from it, in preference to those from any other wood, on account of their higher alkaline properties, and consequent efficiency in purifying the cane juice while being boiled down to a proper consistence to be cast in moulds. The Inca tribe, as we learn from Garcilaso de la Vega,[26] made a highly valued and medicinal beer, which some of the Indians of the interior still occasionally prepare, from the clusters of small-grained fruit that hang gracefully and abundantly from this pretty tree. We have said that the climate here corresponds to that of the warm central valleys of the Andes; but though analogous in several respects, yet there is this marked difference, that at Huaramayo, and other headlands like Huaramayo, as, for example, Surco, on the San Mateo route to the Sierra from Lima, there is neither winter nor summer, but one perpetual spring. It does not rain here for several months in the year, as in the more inland vales; but it agrees with them in being out of the sphere of frosts, and exempted from the raw fogs and sultry heat of the coast. At Surco, Huaramayo, and other similar localities in narrow glens extending from the coast to the Cordilleras, the sun appears to rise late and to set early, for it is only for a few hours in the middle of the day that it shines strongly between the perpendicular and lofty hills of the valley; and the mid-day heat arising from the powerful reflection of the sun’s rays on the bare rocks is succeeded by a cool and agreeable evening. Here then the atmospherical currents of mountains and coast meet and neutralize each other,—the extremes of both disappear: and the result is a delicious climate for the convalescent, whose tender organs require a gentle uniform temperature, alike removed from the extremes of heat and cold, dryness and moisture; and he who has the precaution or prudence to keep in the shade while the sun crosses the vale in the middle of the day, may, in truth, enjoy undisturbed all the curative qualities of a delightful and renovating temperature. With this important fact the delicate inhabitants of Lima are perfectly acquainted, and they are accustomed to resort to the cabezadas, or headlands of valleys, where these verge on the joint air of mountains and coast; as, for example, Matucana, the favourite resting-place of phthisical and hæmoptic individuals, who find themselves obliged to retire from the capital, in order to recover health by visiting those celebrated sites of convalescence—Tarma and Jauja.
Close to Huaramayo, and by the old line of road, begin the steep ascents called the Paxaron, because of the number of paroquets always seen about this place. The path along their acclivity is narrow, fatiguing, and precipitous, to very near the village of Obrajillo, a distance of several leagues. On the airy hill-tops, that overlook this way and the ravine below it, are several villages which are only to be approached by a zigzag and arduous track; and hereabouts, if anywhere on the Canta route, are to be seen examples of the terrific in scenery, for those whose eyes are unaccustomed to the native ruggedness of bold and alpine regions. A young gentleman of our acquaintance, who was familiar with nothing but downs and lawns, was affected at the steeps of the Paxaron with a giddiness that, for some time after, disordered his imagination; and we have seen travellers clash at the worst passes with no small risk in the encounter, where the moving party on the outer verge of the declivity was obliged, for want of room, to brush rudely against the other party standing still on the higher and safer side of the road: and here too, when a weak or weary beast trips, the rider is in danger of toppling over the brink; and the want of parapets makes the road all but impracticable in a dark night.
Canta and Obrajillo are situated in the same opening among the mountains: the latter is entirely the residence of muleteers, whose strong and active women share in the labours of the field; while Canta, on an eminence, is a provincial town, and the seat of a governorship.
The village of Obrajillo is built in a sort of irregular hollow near the bed of a small river, surrounded by arable hills receding and expanding as they rise towards the loftier summits, and therefore affording better ventilation than is to be found in any part of the valley between this and Yanga.
From Yanga to Huaramayo, the hills, as we formerly stated, are doomed to perpetual sterility, and are all unacquainted with the genial influence of dew or rain; but across the summits of the Paxaron we meet with footsteps of that plentiful herbage, with which, at Canta and Obrajillo, the straths and steeps are richly covered.
As Canta is considered a sort of hospital for the ailing people from Lima, it may be proper to remark, that in a medical point of view, it is invested with a great deal of interest, and that it is built on a hill whose base skirts the village of Obrajillo; while, from the plaza of the lower village to the higher town, the ascent is no more than about thirty minutes’ walk. Canta, however, is considered to enjoy a far purer air than Obrajillo; and, as it is only twenty-five leagues from the capital, the hectic, phthisical, and slowly convalescent Limenians, are wont to prefer this to remoter districts. By the people of Obrajillo and Canta, alfalfa, or lucern, is everywhere cultivated near the river and in their little enclosures, and the surrounding hills are covered with pasture: the lower declivities and gentle slopes produce good crops of wheat, beans, potatoes, maize, &c.
Here the culen is one of the most common shrubs, and the natives make a tea of its leaves which is deemed an excellent stomachic. During the wet season flowers and flowering shrubs are spread abroad with liberal profusion; but the trees are too few to supply the wants of the inhabitants, whose houses are therefore constructed at great trouble; being obliged to convey timber from distant places and deep ravines. The stone or adobe walls and thatched roofs of the small villages or pueblos of the Sierra characterize, with only one exception, the buildings of Obrajillo. The dwelling-houses are employed for stowing potatoes, maize, and whatever eatables the residents may be blessed with; and, when the family retire to rest, most of them lie down on sheep-skins wherever they can find room in their disorderly apartments. We need hardly observe that every traveller on these roads must carry with him his own blanket or ponchos to repose on at night.
At Obrajillo there are in all about sixty families; and we saw a maudlin school-master among them with only six pupils, whom he taught, sub Jove, in an open corral.[27] He was looked upon as a savant by the villagers, some of whom found him useful in drawing up their accounts; and we observed that he spoke about the zoology of Aristotle when a friend of ours displayed his more practical zeal and science in collecting and preserving specimens of ornithology, in search of which he frequently waded the river, gun in hand; and a pretty sight it was to see the delicately plumaged diving ducks exhibit wonderful agility, in passing the most foaming rapids. This village of arrieros, or muleteers, is about half-way between Lima and that great source of mineral wealth the Cerro Pasco. From the capital to the Cerro a rider on a good traveller will arrive in four days without injury to himself or beast, and this is considered good work; but we have known the journey from the Cerro to Lima performed in about fifty hours: this again is a work of over-exertion for the man, who is very likely to incapacitate one or perhaps two animals in the undertaking. It may be said, in general, that on a rough and hilly road a league an hour is a fair rate of travelling for a fresh beast on any ordinary journey in the interior of Peru.
The traveller cannot have any dealing with the muleteers without discovering that he is entirely in their power; and that they will furnish him no cattle for his journey, unless he pay them money on account, or “adelantado,” beforehand. Of course he will have to advance some part of the mule-hire before he can budge on another man’s beast; but he should not be ignorant of the Peruvian rule on such occasions, which is, to suspect every man to be a cheat till very certain of the contrary,—a rule which is entirely indispensable. Acting upon the opposite English precept,—to believe every man honest till we find him a rogue,—we were once cheated by the military commandant of Junin, who, being paid “adelantado” for two beasts for the next morning’s journey, furnished one of them with only three legs, the fourth being so contracted that it could not reach the ground. He maintained—and, as he was the first authority in the place, he did so successfully—that as he only agreed to provide two beasts, without respect to quality, he would neither replace the lame nag, nor return our dollars.
The arrieros with cargoes usually take nine or ten days, and sometimes more, from Lima to Pasco, as they make short stages, consulting the ease of their cattle and convenience of lucern or pasture; and at Obrajillo they commonly rest a day at least, to refresh or perhaps relay some of their cattle, before they proceed to brave the toils of the Cordillera. From Obrajillo to Culluai, a small village near the foot of the Cordillera, there are three leagues; and the road leads through a rock-bound passage by the course of a river with a rugged bottom and ruffled stream. There are one or two bad passes to be surmounted in this part of the journey, from the summit of one of which a panting pony laden with part of our baggage once fell over, and broke his neck in the fall. This narrow quebrada or break, is not destitute of interest to the botanist; as in the rainy season, amongst the interspaces of the stones and crags, flowering shrubs of considerable beauty and variety present themselves: indeed, the highest Cordillera entrances are not without their hardy flowers amid the shelves of the rocks. We may remark that, between the cliffs in the neighbourhood of Culluai, may be seen samples of those tiers of gardens, built up one above the other on the face of the acclivity, to which we alluded in our preceding chapter, “on the general features of the Sierra,” as surviving proofs of the industry of the ancient Peruvians.