Up the Amazon and Madeira rivers, through Bolivia and Peru

by Edward D. Mathews

The roads were frightfully loose, the six horses raising fearful clouds of dust; consequently the driver and native passengers required frequent and copious draughts of their national drinks at every chicha-shop we passed, these libations being varied by repeated applications to bottles of “pisco,” or white rum, during the runs between the “chicherias.” I don’t think that I could conscientiously say that this heavy drinking was entirely caused by the dust, as all the passengers seemed to have provided themselves with bottles of pisco quite as part of their travelling impedimenta. The result was that the driver soon got so intoxicated that he was quite unable to keep his team on the track which was dignified with the name of a road. How he managed to keep himself on the box was a marvel; but I fancy that he was able to jam the end of his wooden leg into a crack in the foot-board, and so, getting a purchase, he was able to retain his seat notwithstanding his condition, and the severe lurches that the coach took at frequent intervals. As for the passengers, the frequent drinks took effect in different ways; the men were mostly hilarious and noisy, but the females of the party, and some of the younger males, were very ill. Certainly the movements of the coach, as it swayed and rolled over the ruts and channels in the track, were almost as bad as those of a small Liverpool liner “in the Bay of Biscay O!” but if so much pisco and chicha had not been consumed en route, I think we should have been spared some of the very distressing scenes that occurred on the road.

Leaving Cochabamba, we were soon on the pampas, and as August is one of the dry months, the fields were bare and dusty, but in the spring and showery seasons large crops of barley, wheat, and maize are raised. The pampas are dotted over with the dome-shaped huts and houses of the Quichuan Indians, and from their being built in mud and stones, the country presents features similar to many of the plains of Central India, with their stone and mud walled villages. We passed through the towns of Tarata and Cliza, both populous and flourishing places, built on the flat pampas, and at each of these towns we had to stop while politics were discussed, and vast quantities of pisco and chicha consumed; indeed, these stoppages were so frequent and of such lengthy duration, that it was quite dark before we arrived at Punata, where my Bolivian friends had determined to put up for the night; considering the bad state of the roads, the condition of our Jehu, the frequent jibbing of the horses, who, whenever the coach got into an extra deep rut, scattered all over the road and stood head to head, refusing either to pull, or even to move out of the way and allow the passengers to push the coach themselves, a performance that we had to go through several times, until the horses seemed to be ashamed of themselves, and suddenly started off at full gallop again.

The arriero, with the mules and luggage, got to Punata shortly before we arrived there, and were waiting for us on the plaza. My Bolivian friend would not allow me to go to the public tambo, but took me to the house of a friend of his, Señor Manuel Arauco, who received me most kindly, and gave me both house-room and entertainment. My host is one of the most influential persons of Punata, and a most remarkable man. On entering his house I was much struck with the dignity of his appearance, he being perhaps six feet three or four inches, and of a frame suitable to such a height; but when he did me the honour of introducing me to his family, and I beheld a tall and stately lady in the prime of life, with, three queenly daughters, all up to six feet at least, and of most handsome and pleasing features, I thought it would be hard to match such a bevy of graces anywhere else in the world. My first impressions almost inclined me to believe that some one of the numerous accidents of the journey from Cochabamba had been fatal in its effects, and that I, a second Gulliver, had awakened in Brobdignagia, but the kind and pleasing manners of my host and hostess soon convinced me that, though my entertainers were giants they were also mortals. The evening passed away quickly, in the usual rocking-chair and desultory chit-chat style, and the following morning I was ready for the road by 7 a.m.; but my Bolivian friend was not to the fore, heavy drinking not being compatible with early rising. I therefore sent my baggage mules ahead with the arriero and servant boy, giving them orders to wait for me at Vacas, the village where we intended to make the next halt, the distance from Punata being about thirty miles.

While waiting for my Bolivian friend to sleep off the effects of yesterday’s chicha and pisco, I strolled through the streets of Punata, which I found to be a town of about 16,000 inhabitants, with the usual central plaza, and roughly paved, but well laid-out streets. The chief trade seemed to be in wheat, barley, and potatoes, which were to be bought either wholesale or retail in almost every store. Clothing for the Indian population seems to be made in the town; ponchos and a kind of rough cloth being made from vicunha and other wools. Felt hats are also a staple industry of the place, and, being of excellent quality, are much sought for throughout the republic. The best and softest are made from vicunha wool, and are worth from twelve to fifteen pesos bolivianos—say £2 10s. to £3; but one of sheep’s wool can be bought for any price, from half a dollar upwards. The makers of these hats use a rough frame, on which a cloth is stretched to receive the wool; under this is suspended a kind of bow, the cord of which passes about an inch or two over the cloth; the wool is then beaten by the cord being pulled smartly, the effect of the process being to beat the wool into a very fine fluff, which is wetted and pressed into the required shape with the addition of sufficient size to give the necessary stiffness. The delay in starting also gave me the opportunity of becoming better acquainted with my host, Señor Arauco, whom I found to be a most worthy and intelligent man. He possesses a very interesting museum of animals, birds, insects, and general products of the province, and although he is of independent circumstances, he is by no means an idle man. He told me that his amusements consisted of the “arts and sciences,” and that he made what discoveries he could, and instructed young men of the town in any that proved to be useful. Indeed, the whole family seemed to be occupied in teaching something, for the young ladies taught artificial-flower making and lace-making gratuitously, they having learned these useful accomplishments from books. Señor Arauco’s labours included photographing, bird-stuffing, and preserving skins of animals, cabinet-making, tanning, and wood-staining; and he showed me some excellently tanned specimens of leather of different colours and qualities; also various dyestuffs and drugs collected in the forests of the hills which border on the plains of the Beni. Amongst other articles, I noticed and brought away samples of brasiletto wood, campeachy, and a root which might be utilized as a purple dye instead of orchella weed; also turmeric, collected near Santa Cruz, and called “coorcama” in the district. This article commands a large sale in Europe at about £30 per ton, and as it is to be found in large quantities on the slope of all the hills bordering the plains of the Beni, it might, with great advantage, be made an article of export when the railway of the rapids has been constructed. Señor Arauco, spoke with great enthusiasm of the benefits to accrue to the eastern provinces of Bolivia from the completion of the railway and navigation schemes.

Towards mid-day my Bolivian companion pulled himself together, and we started from Punata about 1 p.m., and, after a couple of hours’ ride, passed through Arani, a small town at the end of the pampa, remarkable only for its extremely narrow and ill-paved streets. We then began to ascend the hills by the new road, for which my Bolivian companion was the contractor. The road is worked in zigzag grades up the mountain sides, the inclination being probably 1 in 8 and 1 in 10, and seeming to me to be too steep for any kind of coach, including American ones with wooden-legged drivers. The scenery in these parts is wild and gloomy, the hills being almost denuded of any kind of vegetation except a long rough grass, which seems to give good pasturage to the cattle, roaming about apparently quite untended or watched by any one. The view from the hills looking across the pampas of Arani and Cliza would have been very fine had it not been much obscured by clouds of dust, and by the mirage left by the intense heat of the mid-day sun.

We had to ride pretty sharply, as travelling after dark on such roads is not at all a pleasant business, for one could easily miss the road, and find one’s self rolling down the mountain side; but we had better luck, and got to Vacas about seven o’clock, just as night was falling in. Near Vacas are the lagoons from which it is proposed to take water for the irrigation of the pampas of the Cliza and Arani valley. These lakes are three in number, the largest being about one and a half leagues in length, by half a league in breadth. The works, which have been carried out by Messrs. Haviland and Keay, of Cochabamba, for account of Mr. Henry Meiggs, of Lima, are now in abeyance, and it was supposed that they would be abandoned, as it was surmised that if the channels cut from the lagoons to the pampas were opened, the lagoons would drain dry in about four years, and therefore no return for the capital spent (about £50,000) would be obtained. I think it may be considered that these lagoons are only drainage deposits from the surrounding hills, which attain altitudes of 14,000 and 15,000 feet, the lakes themselves being about 9500 feet above sea level, while the pampas to be irrigated are at an altitude of nearly 9000 feet. There are no rivers to empty themselves into the lagoons, and there is only the drainage of the hills to depend upon, and as this drainage is probably in excess of the yearly evaporation, the level of the water is kept up; but some authorities think that the lakes are decreasing yearly in size, while others say that the level is kept up by a supply from springs below the ordinary surface level. These lakes are probably parallels, on a small scale, of Lake Titicaca, in the north-western corner of Bolivia, or of the Lake of Valencia in Venezuela, lakes that are known to be decreasing rapidly from extended agriculture, aided, in the case of Lake Valencia, by denudation of forests. If irrigation could be taken to the pampa lands of the Cliza valley, they would perhaps become the richest agricultural plains in the world, as their climate, owing to the considerable elevation, is suitable for the production of almost any cereal; and it seems somewhat strange that proper statistics of the rainfall of the district have not been taken, in order to determine whether the yearly supply received into the lakes would be equal to the demand.

Vacas is a small Indian village, of no other interest than that it is said that from thence exists a path that leads to the Chimoré and Coni, and its position on the map would lead to the belief that it is favourably situated for explorations to those rivers. As we arrived after dark, we found the posta locked up and deserted, but, after some little trouble, the man in charge was hunted up by our arriero, and a fowl and some potatoes having been purchased, we set our boys to make a “chupe;” for we had been provident enough to put up a small bag of onions, chillies, and other condiments, not forgetting the ever necessary garlic, before we left Cochabamba. We therefore managed to make a very excellent pot, which provided us with a capital supper, after which my camp-bed was put together for me, and my Bolivian friend contented himself with a shake-down on the mud bench, which, with a rough table, forms the only furniture of the postas, whilst the arriero and the boys slept on the hides and mats that we carried for covering the cargoes of baggage, and for protecting the animals’ backs from the pack-saddles.

The next morning, the 2nd of September, we were up betimes, having our mules saddled and cargoes up by 6 a.m., when we left Vacas, intending to make the day’s journey end at Totora, distant about twelve leagues. The greater part of the route lay over the new road from Arani to Totora, which has been made without any engineering help, the grades, consequently, being very uncertain. The sites chosen for the road might also in many cases have been much improved upon. In one instance, part of the road, about two leagues before arriving at Pocona, a small and unimportant village about midway between Arani and Totora, has been taken over a ridge, the descent from which is accomplished by a zigzag of three inclines of possibly 1 in 6 at least, while a far preferable route up a ravine near by was available, in which the abrupt descent might have been avoided by a continuous grade of about 1 in 25. However, considerable work has been undertaken in the construction of this road, some of the cuts being of great depth, one point of rock being cut down fifty feet at least. Altogether, the work reflects the greatest credit on the contractor, Señor Demetrio Jordan, of Cochabamba, it being the first piece of road construction undertaken in the republic by a Bolivian contractor. The tools in use by the peons were of the most miserable description, and of native manufacture, and, considering this, it is clear that the Quichuan Indians may be made very fair navvies. The daily wages they earned were, I was given to understand, about four reales, or 1s. 7d., without provisions.

Pocona merits no other mention, than that its beautiful site, at the head of a splendid valley, will attract a population when the interior of the republic enjoys the facilities of improved ways of communication.