There lives in Lima one of the best fellows that I have ever become a chance acquaintance of. His name is Tomas de Mandalangoitia and by occupation he is an official of the Peruvian line of steamers plying between Ilo and Panama. He gave me much information about my prospective trip and as his intentions were to sail the next week for Panama on business for his company, he offered to see that all our baggage would get through safely to that port. This he did, and to him I am extremely thankful as otherwise I would have never been able to make the trip. I left the details of the first stages of the trip to Signor Francesco Sansoni, the courier of the Hotel Maury, who telegraphed to the different stopping places en route as far as the Perene Colony, making reservations for me for horses, and accommodation for me, with guides. He arranged my itinerary and also made in Lima what necessary purchases we would require. The latter consisted of a portable stove, tent, blankets, rifles, revolvers, sack of beans, salt, sugar, molasses, and buckskin shoes. I also carried a camera and medicine chest. I might as well mention that I went to all this expense for nothing because on the Rio Tambo our boat upset and we lost everything in the water excepting the clothes we had on, our money which with our letters of credit we had tied around our persons in a belt, and our revolvers with a box of cartridges which we had in our pockets. Prat even lost his hat and was obliged to buy an Indian piece of headgear from a native boatman which he wore until we reached Iquitos a month later.
Llamas at Casapalca
Casapalca is about 14,000 feet above sea level
The railroad to Oroya, the highest in the world, has been described so many times that it is unnecessary to do so now. In even hours one is taken from Lima to an altitude of 15,865 feet and then dropped down 3686 feet to the junction town of Oroya, from which place a railroad runs northward to Cerro de Pasco, and another one southward to Huancayo. At Casapalca near to the summit of the Andes west of the divide there was a herd of llamas numbering about three hundred behind the railroad sheds. I obtained a good photograph of them which is here reproduced. Most of the people on the train suffered from soroche, a mountain sickness akin to vertigo and nausea which is due to the rapid change in atmosphere that the traveler undergoes when he is whisked into the high, nitrogenous altitudes. It commonly takes several days before the unaccustomed person feels all right again. At Oroya there is a fair hotel, the Junin, where I was obliged to stop over night and where the raw air nearly chilled me through on account of my previous sojourn in the sub-tropics. Oroya is 12,179 feet above sea level and is a bleak, dismal place at its best. The wind blows something fierce and chills one's very marrow. I told Prat that he had better dress warmly but the Spaniard said that since we were only to endure a few days' frigidity he could stand it. It was laughable to see him shiver in his Palm Beach suit and watch him chase his straw sailor hat which a gust of wind would occasionally blow off. Even though I was warmly clad, I was obliged to crawl under four blankets with all my clothes on when I retired that night.
At six o'clock the next morning we were awakened and upon emerging from the front door found a cholo guide, who Francesco Sansoni had telegraphed for, awaiting us with four mules, one for the baggage. We had so much paraphernalia with us that it would have been impossible to load it all upon one mule, so I had it divided somewhat in order that the three mules which we were to ride would bear some of the burden. We were ready to start out at any time after breakfast was served, which we had ordered for 6.30 A.M., but seven o'clock slipped by without any of the servants having prepared any. I went into the kitchen and asked the cook to hurry with it, but he said that the proprietor was asleep and had the keys of the pantry. I told him to awaken him, but the cholo cook was evidently afraid to disturb the sleep of his Italian master. It was nearly nine o'clock before we got away after we had partaken of some stale rolls and several cups of poor coffee. For an hour and a half after starting we climbed a broad, well-traveled path up the western slopes of the barren mountains, until we reached the summit where there was a pass at an altitude of 13,975 feet above sea level. This pass is the dividing line between the Mantaro and the Palca watersheds, both of which belong to the Amazon basin. The Mantaro flows in a southeasterly direction out of Lake Junin and as a creek flows past the towns of Oroya and Jauja, ever increasing in volume so that it is quite respectable in size at Huancayo. Beyond the summit was a large uneven plain from which rose many rounded hills and stony buttes and which was sprinkled here and there with coarse tufts of bunch grass at which we saw llamas grazing. These mountain plateaus are in Chile called pampas, in Bolivia and Southern Peru, punos, but here and farther north as far as Colombia, paramos. It took us an hour to cross this plain which sloped gently to the east; then began a rough descent over stony ground on the eastern slopes of the mountain till we reached a formation where a depression of the ground showed us was the beginning of a valley. The grasses became more abundant and a few shrubs appeared. The lower we descended, the more these shrubs took on the appearance of trees so that now the country had a totally different aspect from the barrenness of Oroya and the high plateau. The path had broadened considerably so that it nearly assumed a road-like width, and we met many droves of llamas followed up by drivers on muleback. All were carrying merchandise to the railroad. In a few days they would return with the products of the civilized world imported from North America and Europe. We now came upon the south bank of a fastly flowing stream and followed this for about five hours, riding very slowly and taking in the landscape which was becoming less wild all the time. A few miles before reaching Tarma the banks of the creek were clothed with patches of calla lilies, growing wild, in their original native state, the dark green of their arrow-shaped leaves forming a brilliant color contrast with the creamy whiteness of their blossoms and the golden yellow of their petals. A cleft in the mountains was seen ahead, which showed us that our creek here joined another river, which was true for here the Acomayo was reached. Presently the red tile roofs of Tarma were seen among the eucalyptus groves and soon we clattered down an avenue bordered by trees and on each side of which ran irrigation ditches. At the end of this avenue was an ornamental gate built into the solid walls of the buildings and which looked like a triumphal arch. Under this we passed and then entered the narrow streets of the city, drawing up at the Hotel Roma on the plaza, where rooms reserved for us by Sansoni were awaiting our occupancy.
Tarma, Peru