When the Spaniards first settled in the beautiful mountain valleys of Caraccas and on the Orinoco, they found the Llanos, in spite of their abundant verdure, almost entirely uninhabited by man, for the Indians were unacquainted with pastoral life; and if the mauritia had not here and there tempted a few savages to settle on the open savannahs, they would have been left entirely to the animal life which from time immemorial had thriven on their herbage. But the Spaniards introduced new quadrupeds into the new world,—the ox, the horse, the ass, our faithful companions over the whole surface of the globe,—and the progeny of these domestic animals, returning to their wild state, has multiplied amazingly in the vast pastures of the Llanos. Man has followed them into their new domain; and small hamlets, often situated whole days’ journeys one from another, and consisting only of a few wretched huts, though generally dignified with the name of towns, proclaim that he has at least made a beginning to establish his empire over these boundless plains.
HIGH TABLE-LANDS OF PERU.
CHAPTER III.
THE PUNA, OR THE HIGH TABLE-LANDS OF PERU AND BOLIVIA.
Striking Contrast with the Llanos—Northern Character of their Climate—The Chuñu—The Surumpe—The Veta: its Influence upon Man, Horses, Mules, and Cats—The Vegetation of the Puna—The Maca—The Llama: its invaluable Services—The Huanacu—The Alpaca—The Vicuñas: Mode of Hunting Them—The Chacu—The Bolas—The Chinchilla—The Condor—Wild Bulls and Wild Dogs—Lovely Mountain Valleys.
Between the two mighty parallel mountain chains of the Cordillera and the Andes,[3] the giant bulwarks of Western South America, we find, extending throughout the whole length of Peru and Bolivia, at a height of from ten to fourteen thousand feet above the level of the sea, vast plateaus, or table-lands, which are named, in the language of the country, the Puna, or ‘the Uninhabited.’ They present a striking contrast to the Llanos of Venezuela; for though situated, like these sultry plains, within the torrid zone, their great elevation paralyses the effects of a vertical sun, and transfers the rigours of the north to the very centre of the tropical world.
Their climate is hardly less bleak and winterly than that of the high snow-ridges which bound them on either side. Cold winds sweep almost constantly over their surface, and during four months of the year they are daily visited by fearful storms. The suddenly darkened sky discharges, under terrific thunder and lightning, enormous masses of snow, until the sun breaks forth again. But soon the clouds obscure its brilliancy; and thus winter and summer, here reign alternately,—not, as in our temperate climes, during several months, but within the short space of a single day. In a few hours the change of temperature often amounts to forty or forty-five degrees, and the sudden fall of the thermometer is rendered still more disagreeable to the traveller by biting winds, which so violently irritate the skin of the hands and face, that it springs open and bleeds from every fissure. An intolerable burning and swelling accompany these wounds, so as to prevent the use of the hands for several days. On the lips it is also very disagreeable, as the pain increases by eating and speaking; and an incautious laugh produces deep rents, which bleed for a long time and heal with difficulty.
This evil, which is called Chuñu by the Peruvian Indians, is also very painful on the eyelids; but it becomes absolutely insupportable by the addition of the Surumpe, a very acute and violent inflammation of the eyes, caused by the sun’s reflection from the snow. In consequence of the rarefied air and the biting winds, the visual organs are constantly in a state of irritation, which renders them far more sensitive to any strong light than would be the case in a more congenial atmosphere. The rapid change from a clouded sky to the brilliancy of a sunny snow-field, causes a painful stinging and burning, which increases from minute to minute to such a degree, that even the stoical Indian, when afflicted with this evil, will sit down on the road-side and utter cries of anguish and despair. Chronical ophthalmia, suppuration of the eyelids, and total blindness, are the frequent consequences of an intense surumpe, against which the traveller over the high lands carefully guards himself by green spectacles or a dark veil.
A third plague of the wanderer in the Puna is the Veta, which is occasioned by the great rarefaction of the air. Its first symptoms, which generally appear at an elevation of 12,000 feet, consist in giddiness, buzzing in the ear, headache, and nausea. Their intensity increases with the elevation, and is aggravated by a lassitude, which augments to such a degree as to render walking impossible, by a great difficulty of respiration, and violent palpitation of the heart. Absolute rest mitigates these symptoms; but on continuing the journey they reappear with increased violence, and are then frequently accompanied by fainting and vomiting. The capillary vessels of the eye, nose, and lips burst, and emit drops of blood. The same phenomenon appears also in the mucous membrane of the respiratory and digestive organs; so that blood-spitting and bloody diarrhœa frequently accompany the Veta, and are sometimes so violent as to cause death.