the customary “mile of courtesy” to a dozen or more, but later they followed us up with congratulatory telegrams speeding us on our way.
Our cavalcade clattered gayly out of town on a fine brisk morning when for some reason or other it did not happen to be raining. A short stop at Yllanya to enable us to pay our respects to the kind Letona family, who had given us a pleasant banquet the week before, was rewarded by the young master of the house having his horse saddled at once and insisting on taking us by a short cut through his own canefields. These looked prosperous enough, but a swarm of locusts that had just made their appearance was pointed out to us, and the planter feared greatly for his crops.
At ten o’clock we reached the river Pachachaca, the first large affluent of the Apurimac. We crossed it on a stone bridge whose magnificent single arch was erected under the direction of a Jesuit architect, two hundred and fifty years ago. It is said to be one of the longest spans in the Andes. Here we stopped to have a round of drinks and to enjoy the scenery.
It was a beautiful spot: green mountains on both sides of a valley filled with waving sugar-cane through the midst of which ran a roaring, rushing torrent. A few miles farther up this valley there are a number of small Indian towns in which General Sucre had his headquarters a few weeks before the battle of Ayacucho.
An hour’s brisk trot brought us to Auquibamba, a sugar mill and plantation, owned by Don Federico Martinelli who was unfortunately ill in bed and not able to see us, although his engineer and manager did the honors most hospitably. Quantities of delicious oranges were brought to appease our appetites while an elaborate lunch was being prepared for the dozen more people than had been expected.
After lunch we all mounted at once. The custom of taking a siesta does not seem to prevail at this altitude, 7000 feet. After all were on horseback, affectionate good-bys had to be said, and notwithstanding the nervousness of some of the more high-strung animals, their riders succeeded in embracing the departing guests with true Spanish fervor.
Our road from Auquibamba led through a charming country until it gradually climbed out of the valley and across a pass, at an altitude of 11,700 feet, where there was a small lake but no signs of tropical vegetation.
We saw no llamas at all. Mules, horses, and burros were the pack animals that we met carrying out kegs of aguardiente and loads of sugar and bringing in foreign merchandise. Thanks to the rainy season, the fields were covered with flowers, many varieties of which have been imported for our own gardens at home. Wonderfully large begonias, excelling in size anything I had ever seen before, lupins, cosmos, and many others added great charm to the scene and partly made up for the frightful condition of the roads.
Every one with whom we talked expressed surprise that we should attempt a journey at this season of the year when all good Peruvians stay at home. Not only are the roads positively dangerous in places, but the heavy rainfall insures a thorough daily drenching unless one is so fortunate as to be protected by a very heavy rubber poncho. As the natives depend almost entirely on woolen ponchos for protection against the rain, it may be imagined that they get well soaked after two or three hours’ riding, notwithstanding the fact that the best and most expensive vicuña ponchos are beautifully and closely woven and will shed an ordinary shower.
At half past four we began the descent into the pretty cultivated valley of Huancarama. The descent was steep and the path extremely slippery, and we were paying so much attention to the manner of our going that we barely noticed the cavalcade of eight horsemen riding at full gallop up the valley. The Gobernador had been informed of our approach by the kind-hearted Prefect, and had brought with him half a dozen of his friends to do us honor. We were taken at once to his house, a small adobe hut, and treated most courteously. The priest of the village and two of the leading citizens were urged to remain and dine with us, which they readily consented to do. After dinner we were piloted through the muddy streets to the plaza where a room, evidently used for various governmental purposes, was placed at our disposal. All went well until the next morning when we were told that one of the animals which the Prefect had furnished us belonged to the Gobernador, who had lent it to the Secretary of the Department for the expedition to Choqquequirau, and he was unwilling to have it go any farther. He said that “one of his friends” had an excellent horse which he would rent us for that day. The Gobernador was firm, and as he had sent the animal to pasture, he had more than “nine points of the law” on his side. Anyhow we had no desire to impose on him, and requested him to have his “friend’s horse” brought around. There seemed, however, to be some sort of an understanding between the Gobernador and his “friend,” as the horse, a fairly good-looking beast, was brought out from the Gobernador’s own backyard. We suspicioned that the “friend” was probably a confederate in graft, if not actually a servant. The price asked for the use of the horse for one day was five dollars. Evidently we were considered to be “easy.” We appealed the matter to the soldier who had been sent as our escort, but he would only shake his head sadly and shrug his shoulders. So we told the Gobernador the price was outrageous and that rather than pay it, we would settle down in Huancarama and live at his expense. With this terrible alternative staring him in the face he sent his servant to another “friend” with orders to bring up another animal. This time the price asked was only $1, and although the soldier said that was twice as much as the regular charge, we preferred to pay it rather than be delayed any longer.