Fortunately for us, none of our animals showed signs of sickness before leaving, but we had not been long on the road when one of the baggage mules was attacked with belly pains, and stood still, groaning and shaking violently. I was in great fear for her, as she was the weakest of the batch; but our gaucho Marco was equal to the occasion, and had the packs off her in a moment, whilst he covered her loins with a rug, and fomented her belly with urine—a treatment that recovered her quickly and completely.
Four leagues from Sepulturas is Cosepilla, a large and well-built tambo, to which we ought to have come last night, as, notwithstanding what was told us at Sepulturas, there was barley to be had, but at ten pesos per quintal. From this place a very high peak, which we were told was named El Cerro del Volcan, was a very beautiful sight, being entirely snow-covered, and of almost equal beauty with the volcano of Sajáma. There were no signs of eruption, which is said to take place only in the dry season. The road all day was good, though very stony, with only a couple of cuestas, one of which, called “Las Siete Vueltas,” or “The Seven Turns,” is a noticeable feature of the journey. The pampas are traversed by numerous small streams that bring down beautiful clear iced water from the snow-covered peaks, some of which display on their steep sides, where the snow cannot lie, a variety of colours that give a most peculiar appearance to the landscape.
The best description that I can give of this, is that the hills look as though they had been draped with immense striped blankets; the bands of colour, which are disposed vertically, consisting of bright red, yellow, and slatey blue. The vertical position of these stripes does not answer to the inclination of the strata, which is probably similar to the peculiar rocky formation noticed near El Cruzero, the different coloured earths lying one upon the other. Some convulsion of nature, or the wearing away of time, has cut through the strata in an angular direction; and at the point where each one of the strata comes to the surface, the detritus or broken earth has fallen straight down the hill-side, thus giving the appearance to which I have alluded.
We arrived at Tacora, our next halting-place, about five o’clock, having travelled for twelve hours without any stoppages, and having crossed the frontier and entered on Peruvian territory. Here there is a very fair tambo with the usual supply of un-eatables. No barley to be had for the animals, but dried “alfa” was obtainable at eight and a half pesos the quintal, equal to about £29 per ton—a stiffish price for “dried lucerne.”
PASS OF TACORA.
The following day, Sunday, January 17th, we left the post-house of Tacora about 7.30 a.m., the morning being frosty and cold, as is usual on these elevated table-lands. The first league travelled was over a pampa, terminated by a cuesta particularly dreaded for the soroche; and certainly the number of carcases and skeletons of mules and donkeys on either side of the path was truly appalling. I felt something unusual myself, and notwithstanding that it is said to be dangerous to take liquor when suffering from this sickness, I took a little brandy and bitters, and, attacking the contents of my saddle-bags, ate my breakfast of hard-boiled eggs and biscuits, soon feeling considerably better. The mules also showed, by lagging behind, some symptoms of this dreaded soroche; but our mozos took some cloves of garlic from their “alforjas,” and, bruising them, rubbed them into the animal’s nostrils. To the one most affected they squirted “aguadiente” into his ears, with which treatment the animals appeared to revive; but we got on slowly, the boys telling us that it would not do to urge the mules beyond a walking pace.
Passing the cuesta and arriving again on flat lands, we crossed a river called El Rio de Azufre, the water of which has a most unpleasant taste and smell, the latter reminding one of the odour exhaled by rotting seaweed. The banks of this stream were encrusted with a yellow deposit, whilst the bed also was covered with a bright yellow slime. This stream is the last that runs eastward, and soon after crossing it the track comes to the highest point over which the road to Tacna passes. Before descending, one notices to the northward, deeply indented on the side of the peak of Tacora, the aqueduct which conveys the water of the river Maury, an affluent of the Desaguadero, to the town of Tacna. This pass, which is called Chulancani, is surmounted by a huge cairn, or “apacheta,” composed principally of the bones of the mules and donkeys that have fallen victims to the soroche. To this heap every passing arriero adds either a stone or a whitened bone, picked up from the way-side, and devoutedly crossing himself, prays to the Holy Virgin or to his patron saint for a safe passage to his home. Close by the cairn, which stands probably at an elevation of rather more than 15,000 feet above sea-level, grows a rough and gnarled tree of the kind called “kenña” in the district, and forming a remarkable feature of the route.
After crossing the summit of the pass the descent to the Pacific coast is commenced, and the steep nature of the western slope of the Andes becomes conspicuous at once. Indeed the whole aspect of the country changes, for there are no more pampas or table-lands in sight, and no grass or other signs of vegetation. Owing to the almost total absence of rainfall, nothing green or growing is to be seen on the western slopes of the Andes, except in the bottom of the ravines, where, by skill and hard labour, some industrious “ranchero” has been able to effect a little irrigation. Owing to the broken and ravined character of the hill-side but a short view is to be obtained, from which one would almost be inclined to fancy that the mountains had split asunder; the part towards the Pacific having, as it sank down, broken up into inextricable confusion, whilst the bulk, remaining unshaken towards the interior of the continent, preserved its original formation of valley, plain, and hill.