The roof is surmounted by a number of small sentry-boxes which are connected by little paths and stairways that lead to all parts of the structure. In the old days, it was necessary not only to protect the “money-house” against possible attacks from without, but to make sure that the Indians, who were assigned to work in the mint, did not escape from the attics where they slept at night.
I crawled through several of these attics where not even an underfed Indian could stand upright. The roof was scarcely four feet above the floor. In the corners were rude fireplaces where they may have cooked their chupe, with dried llama dung as their only fuel. The rooms were dark, even in midday. The tiny peek-holes that served as windows admitted scarcely any light. Altogether it was as wretched a dormitory as could possibly be imagined.
The view from the roof was most interesting. The romantic cone of the mountain-of-silver rises to the south beyond the graceful towers of the cathedral. East of it are the hills where the Spaniards built their famous reservoirs. Further east are higher hills which have been the scene of several bloody encounters in the unprofitable civil wars that have devastated Bolivia. Here on the battle-field of Kari Kari, several hundred unfortunate Indians, fighting for revolutionary leaders with whose selfish aims they had little sympathy, fell victims to the unfortunate habit of appealing to arms instead of ballots.
North of us, in the foreground, is the picturesque market-place, while northwest, in the distance, the old trail for Oruro and Lima winds away through the barren hills. To the west the far extending vista discloses a wilderness of variegated hills and mountain ranges. While all around, the quaint old arched roofs, rolling like giant swells of the Pacific, are surrounded by the narrow streets, the red-tiled houses, and the ruinous towers of the ancient city.
CHAPTER XI
SUCRE THE DE JURE CAPITAL OF BOLIVIA
Potosí was an irresistible attraction to thousands, but the dreadful climate, the high altitude, the cold winds, and the chilling rains drove away those who could afford it to the more hospitable valleys a few days’ journey eastward where, with an abundant water-supply at an elevation of eight thousand feet, charming villas sprang up surrounded by attractive plantations, the present suburbs of Sucre.
A fairly good coach road has recently been completed, and a weekly stage carries mail and passengers between the two cities. We preferred, however, to continue on our saddle mules and followed the older route. The new road is a hundred miles long. The old trail is only seventy-five. With good animals it need take but two days. We were in no hurry, however, and decided to do it in three.
The valleys through which our road descended, at first arid and desolate, gradually became greener and more populous. The views were often very fine and extensive and we saw a few snow-covered mountains. In the middle of winter, that is June and July, the snow frequently covers everything. Now, on the 29th of November, the prevailing color was a tawny brown.