On January 22nd we left Camp 93. I was struck everywhere at those tambos by the great honesty of the Peruvians. I was often touched by the extreme kindness of the people and their considerate manner—although perhaps it was more particularly striking to me after my experience of the brutal behaviour of the lower-class Brazilians. The gentle way of speaking, the more harmonious language—Spanish instead of Portuguese—and the charming civility of the people, made travelling, even under those unpleasant circumstances, quite agreeable.
It was cold, especially at night. Nearly all my instruments had been badly damaged in our many accidents in Brazil, and I was unable to replace them either in Pará or Manaos. Owing, therefore, to the lack of self-registering thermometers, I could not keep an accurate daily record of the maximum and minimum temperatures. After leaving Camp 93, we went over a really fearful trail, my mules being all the time chest-deep in mud. It was extremely hard work for the animals to get along. As is well known to any traveller, all animals of a caravan when on a narrow path step in the footprints of their predecessors, so that on that trail they had sunk a long series of deep holes in the soft clay, which were constantly being filled by water sliding from the mountain-side. In that particular part the mud had highly caustic qualities, which burnt the skin and caused irritation each time you were splashed. The muleteers who were walking had their feet badly burnt by it, one man suffering agony from his blistered feet.
Magnificent mountain scenery covered with luxuriant forest surrounded us as the trail wound its way along the high point on the top of the mountain range. We went only 21 kil. that day from Pampas, having occupied seven hours to cover the distance, owing to the difficulties of the march.
In the afternoon we were enveloped in dense fog which lasted the whole night, the cold being quite severe, and the more perceptible because of the humidity in the air. The trail here described a wide detour, which could have easily been avoided had another trail that went direct to New Bermudez been followed at the bottom of the valley. The journey by that lower trail could be accomplished in one day and a half. The elevation by hypsometrical apparatus of this camp (N.71) was 5,663 ft.
On January 23rd we descended rapidly through beautiful forest from Camp 71, where we had halted for the night, to a large tambo called Eneñas, in charge of an Italian. The place was situated in a beautiful valley intersected by a streamlet saturated with lime. It looked exactly like milk, and hurt your gums considerably when you drank it. The excellent mule I was riding had unfortunately hurt one of its legs while we were crossing a swollen torrent, where the mule and myself were nearly swept away in the foaming current. Riding on the lame animal, which was all the time stumbling and falling down on its knees, was unpleasant. In the narrow trail it was not possible to unload another animal and change the saddle, and it was out of the question for me to walk.
The Inca Temple of the Sun, with Spanish Superstructure.
