37. Gabriel de Avilés y del Fierro, Marquis of Avilés, Nov. 6, 1801-July 26, 1806.
38. Jose Fernando Abascal. July 26, 1806-.
39. Joaquim de la Pezuela.
He was the last Viceroy of Peru.
CHAPTER XV
ACROSS THE CORDILLERA TO THE RIO TAMBO
Professor Edward Alsworth Ross in his book South of Panama says of Peru:
"Were I to be exiled, and confined the rest of my life to one country, I should choose Peru. Here is every altitude, every climate, every scene. The lifeless desert and the teeming jungle, the hottest lowlands and the bleakest highlands, heaven-piercing peaks and rivers raving through canyons—all in Peru. The crassest heathenism flourishes two days in the saddle from noble cathedrals, and the bustling ports are counterpoised by secluded inland towns where the past lies miraculously preserved like the mummy of the saint in a crypt."
The greatest part of Peru lies east of the Andes. It is also the least known part of Peru for it is rarely visited by strangers or mining men or commercial travelers. The part they see is the desert coast line with its dirty, poverty-stricken towns, the bleak barren peaks that fringe the Pacific littoral, here and there a spot of verdure at the mouth of a river, and Lima, the capital. A few others, mostly mining men and engineers, take a trip to the summit of nearby mountains on the Oroya railroad, sojourn in the mining towns, suffer from cold and lonesomeness, and swear that Peru is the damnedest country on the face of the globe, and are heartily glad when the time comes for them to leave, vowing never to return again. Barely a handful of these people ever cross the passes of the eastern cordillera, and descend the banks of the rivulets formed from the melting of the perpetual snows until these rivulets become streams, the country opens out, and the climate changes from that of the arctic regions to that of the temperate zone and finally changes again to that of the tropics. If the tourist journeyed farther he would find himself in a vast forest of tropical trees, impenetrable, and the home of wild Indians of the blowpipe variety, who roam the great swamps and jungles clad not even in a loin cloth. He would meet mighty rivers as wide as our widest ones, would observe flora such as is only seen in our hothouses, and would see many species of fauna which he has never seen except at a zoo. This great, and for the most part unexplored, section of Peru is part of the Amazon watershed and forms a wilderness of forest which is the continuation of that of Brazil. The Amazon and many of its tributaries rise near the summits of the Andes, and cutting their passage in deep gorges and canyons ever widening in their descent down the eastern slope of the great barrier range of mountains, finally reach the lowlands and flow peacefully in the direction of the Atlantic Ocean, their volume of water being continually augmented by an inpour of thousands of similar smaller streams.
A person who is at the mouth of a great river longs to follow it up to its source, likewise a person standing at the source or at the side of a little stream which he can step across and know that thousands of miles away it flows into the ocean as a mighty river, is fascinated and a longing comes over him to descend it and follow it to its outlet, especially if it happens to be in a country that is new to him and the course of the flowing road lies through a stretch of the universe that to him is an unsolved mystery. Twice before I have stood at the sources of tributaries to the Amazon, and each time I could hardly resist the temptation of following them downward. Once was at Huancayo on the Mantaro. This river flows eastward and joins the Apurimac, forming the Rio Tambo. The latter joins the Urubamba, forming the Ucayali. The Ucayali joins the Maranon, forming the main stream of the Amazon. The other time was at La Paz at the headwaters of the Chuquillampo. This river descends very steeply through a wild gorge named the Yungas and flows into the Altamachi. The latter flows into the Beni which in turn empties into the Madeira. The Madeira flows into the Amazon. As I was limited for time on each of these previous occasions I had to forego the pleasure and excitement of such a thrilling expedition. Also the descent of either of these rivers would have been impracticable without a large expedition because their courses lie through a country inhabited by savage Indians which would make traveling extremely dangerous.
In Lima this time the idea occurred to me, since I had been twice thwarted in my desire to descend the length of the Amazon basin and might never have another chance if not at present, that it would be a good stunt to obtain all possible information about what route to take, and if feasible to make another attempt. I spoke about it to Prat who did not fall in with the idea very well as he had a wholesome fear of the wild tribes which he was told infested the whole forest region of Amazonian Peru. After a considerable palaver he finally agreed to take a chance and since we were told at the American consulate that the best way to make the trip would be by the way of the Chanchamayo and the Perene Rivers, we determined upon this last-mentioned route and then started to make preparations.