Travels in Peru, on the Coast, in the Sierra, Across the Cordilleras and the Andes, into the Primeval Forests

by Johann Jakob von Tschudi

Five leagues south of Chilca, on the river of the same name, lies the village called Cañete, which is the residence of a Sub-prefect. The very interesting province of Yauyos extends from this village in an easterly direction towards the Cordilleras. The inhabitants of this province are distinguishable by their faces and figures, and also by their manners and language, from the Indians of the coast and the mountains. In stature they are small. They have expanded foreheads, animated eyes, prominent cheek-bones, and wide mouths. Their limbs are slender, and their skin is of a swarthy brown. Their dialect, the Cauqui, contains many radical words of the Quichua language. After this nation was subjugated by the Incas their language was so intermixed with others, that it is now very difficult to trace out its origin. It appears to be totally different from the Chinchaysuyo language.

Some very considerable sugar plantations, and several villages, lie between Cañete and Pisco. Among the villages, Lunahuana and Chincha (upper and lower) are celebrated for their great fertility. Two rivers, at the distance of five leagues from each other, flow in a parallel direction between Chincha and Pisco, and to their waters the valleys are indebted for their rich vegetation. On account of their width these rivers can only be passed with the assistance of Chimbadores, and many travellers annually perish in their incautious attempts to ford them. The little town of Pisco is on the left bank of the south river, and half a league from it there is a secure harbor with good anchoring ground. This town has acquired some importance by the exportation of brandy; and it has recently become more active and populous owing to the near vicinity of the Guano islands. The custom-house and the port captain's office are on the shore, where there is also a large building erected by Don Domingo Elias, for a brandy depôt. The little town of Pisco has suffered much from the plundering attacks of European pirates, from earthquakes, and more recently from the War of Independence. Several parts of it have been rebuilt. Within the few last years much has been done in the way of improving and ornamenting it. A broad trench has been dug round the town, serving the purpose of drainage, and thereby greatly contributing to preserve the health of the place. Pisco is merely the key to the large interior town of Yca, which is fourteen leagues distant. I visited it in the year 1842. The steamer conveyed me in eighteen hours from Callao to Pisco, where I hired horses and a guide. He was a Catalonian, who had frequently travelled to Yca.

At three o'clock, P. M., we left Pisco. At first the road passed over very hard ground, then through deep sand, which continued till we got to Yca. Notwithstanding the heat, which in the month of February is insupportable, I was wrapped up in my woollen poncho. Experience had taught me that in the hotter districts the change of temperature which takes place at night, and causes fever, is least injurious when the traveller is protected in warm clothing. My Catalonian guide, who, with his arms covered merely by his shirt sleeves, nevertheless suffered greatly from the heat, could not comprehend why I had chosen such a dress. When I informed him that eleven days before I had, in the same clothing, passed a night on the Cordilleras, in the midst of snow, he shook his head in token of incredulity. Whilst the bell rang for evening prayers we rode into the Huilla Curin Plantation, which is surrounded by a charming grove of palm trees. We stopped for a few moments to gather some excellent figs. About midnight a heavy fog spread over the plain, and veiled from our sight a cross on the south, which had hitherto served to keep us in the right direction. We, however, advanced about a league farther. The Catalonian then often alighted to smell the sand, in order to ascertain whether we were taking the proper course. This is a very good practical method; for in deserts through which caravans frequently pass, the dung of the beasts of burthen mixed with the sand affords a sure indication of the track. When we had got about three quarters of a league farther on, we came close against a rock, which my guide—in whose acquaintance with the locality I had the most unbounded confidence—declared was quite unknown to him. There was therefore no doubt that we had got out of the right course. I lighted a cigar, and on examining, by its feeble light, my pocket compass, I discovered that instead of keeping to the south-east we had diverged to the west. As there was now no hope that the fog would clear away before day-break, we rolled ourselves in the warm sand, to await the coming morning.

I afterwards learned that in this very spot numerous travellers had lost their way, and had perished of thirst. In the year 1823, a ship stranded on this coast, with three hundred and twenty dragoons on board, under the command of Colonel Lavalle. The soldiers succeeded in getting ashore, but thirty-six hours afterwards they were lost in this sandy desert. When intelligence of the shipwreck reached Pisco, a cavalry regiment was despatched to search for the sufferers, and to supply them with provisions and water; but when they were found it was discovered that one hundred and sixteen men had died from fatigue and thirst, and a few days after fifty more perished from exhaustion. It is generally supposed that a healthy man can live four or five days unsupplied with food and drink. In the temperate climate of Europe, and with bodily rest, this, perhaps, may be the case; but in the burning wastes of Peru to be deprived of nourishment for only forty-eight hours, and at the same time to wander about in deep sand, would be followed by certain death. Severe thirst is the most horrible of torments, especially when the body is surrounded by a medium altogether of an arid nature. At sea it can be much longer endured than on a surface of sand.

When the grey dawn of morning appeared we again mounted our horses, and rode by my compass in the direction of E.S.E. After riding a few leagues, we turned an acute angle, which brought us into the main road, and we arrived that forenoon in Yca.

On my return I so arranged my journey as to pass the night in Huilla Curin, where the horses were supplied with forage, consisting of the shoots and leaves of the Mastick-tree (schinus molle).

Yca is a moderately large and very agreeably situated town. Like most of the larger towns on the coast it is peopled with inhabitants of all colors, particularly Mestizos. It is the residence of a sub-prefect and many rich planters. Scarcely anything but the vine is cultivated in the Haciendas of the environs; and this branch of husbandry contributes greatly to enrich the province. It is astonishing to see with what facility the vine thrives in a soil apparently so unfruitful. The young shoots are stuck into the sand almost half a foot deep, then tied up and left to themselves. They quickly take root and shoot forth leaves. Whilst the surrounding country bears the appearance of a desert, the vineyards of Yca are clothed in delightful verdure. The grapes are of superior quality, very succulent and sweet. The greater part are used for making brandy, which is extremely good and very well flavored. All Peru and a great part of Chile are supplied with this liquor from the Vale of Yca. The common brandy is called Aguardiente de Pisco, because it is shipped at that port. A kind of brandy of superior quality, and much dearer, made from Muscatel grapes, is called Aguardiente de Italia. It is distinguished by a very exquisite flavor. Very little wine is made at Yca. In some plantations they make a thick dark-brown kind, which is very sweet, and much liked by the Peruvians, though not very agreeable to a European palate. Only one planter, Don Domingo Elias,[49] the richest and most speculative cultivator on the whole coast, makes wine in the European manner. It is very like the wine of Madeira and Teneriffe, only it is more fiery, and contains a more considerable quantity of alcohol. Specimens which have been sent to Europe have obtained the unqualified approbation of connoisseurs. The flavor is considerably improved by a long sea voyage.

The brandy, which is exported by sea, is put into large vessels made of clay, called botijas. In form they are like a pear, the broad ends being downwards. At the top there is a small aperture, which is hermetically closed with gypsum. The large botija when filled weighs six or seven arobas. Two are a load for a mule. To the pack-saddle, or aparejo, two baskets are fastened, in which the botijas are placed with the small ends downwards. These botijas were formerly also used for conveying the brandy across the mountains; but, in consequence of the dangerous, slippery roads, over which the mules often fell, many were broken. Still greater damage was sustained at the springs and wells on the coast, for the poor animals, after their long journeys through the sandy wastes, rushed, on perceiving water, in full flight to the springs. As it happens that there is often room for only five or six mules, and from seventy to eighty were often pressing forward, a great number of the botijas were unavoidably dashed to pieces in spite of all the caution the arrieros could exercise. The annual loss of brandy was immense, and to counteract this evil, bags of goatskin were introduced. These skins are now generally used for the conveyance of brandy across the mountains. The method of skinning the goats is the most horribly cruel that can be conceived. A negro hangs the living animal up by the horns, and makes a circular incision round his neck, which, however, goes no further than to the flesh. He then draws the skin from the body of the writhing animal, which utters the most frightful cries. When the skin is completely removed, and not till then, is the suffering animal killed. The negroes assert that the skin is most easily removed in this manner, and that the odres[50] become thereby more durable. It is to be hoped that humanely disposed planters will soon put an end to this barbarous and unreasonable practice.

I happened to be in Yca at the time of the celebration of the negro carnival, which I will here briefly describe. In some of the principal streets of the town large arches are erected, and gaily decorated with ribbons. Round these arches negresses and mestizas dance, and endeavor to stop the negroes whilst riding at full gallop under the arches. The negroes start from the distance of about one hundred paces, and gallop straight to the boundary, where the women endeavor to seize the bridle, and to throw the rider from his saddle. The task of the men is to ride past the women without being stopped; and when they fail in so doing, they have to pay a fine, and are hooted into the bargain. It is hard to say which is most surprising;—the speed of the horses, the dexterity of the riders, or the courage of the negresses, who fearlessly throw themselves in the way of the galloping horses. During the race the negroes are pelted with unripe oranges and lemons, which, when thrown by the vigorous arm of a zamba, inflict a sufficiently heavy blow. I saw a negro gallop to and fro for the space of an hour, at full speed, and every time he passed under the arch he dexterously evaded the outstretched hands of the women; thus giving proof of uncommon bodily strength. While dashing at full speed through the arch of the bridge, and leaning forward on the horse's neck, he seized two negresses, one with each of his arms, and pulled them into the saddle beside him.

The climate of Yca is hot, and not altogether healthy, for the torrents of rain which fall from the hills swell the river so as to make it overflow its lower bank, where marshes are formed, in which malaria is developed. Most of the plantations in the environs are more healthy.