In the Wilds of South America

by Leo E. Miller

The mountains seem formed of solid sandstone. Here and there a ledge, worn and rounded by the elements, projects conspicuously and resembles an impregnable fort or castle of majestic though fantastic design. We reached a lone Indian hut late at night, and, while the arriero was loath to halt, the mules were too tired to go much farther. The neighborhood was in bad repute on account of a number of robberies and murders that had recently taken place there, and not long after our arrival we saw mysterious signal-fires spring up on the surrounding slopes. We therefore camped in a corral, the enclosing stone walls serving as a barricade, and alternately did sentry duty throughout the night. I believe one of the reasons for our being left severely alone was that each member of the expedition was advised to display casually his pistol to the inhabitants of the hut, and to acquaint them with its possibilities. This same ruse has prevented serious trouble in a number of instances. I have found that by far in the greater part of South America there is not the slightest necessity of carrying a weapon of any kind; but there are isolated regions where the moral effect on the natives produced by wearing a revolver of generous size in a conspicuous place is so great that one may tread with impunity what would otherwise be dangerous ground.

The next night was spent on the banks of a narrow creek called Usiamayo, the elevation being only seven thousand nine hundred feet. Many Indians live on both sides of the stream. They own numerous flocks of sheep and goats and cultivate extensive areas of maize and wheat. Their huts are low, primitive affairs, and of such small size that they resemble overcrowded rabbit-hutches. Freshly cut grain was piled in neat heaps that were surrounded by fences of thorny brush to keep the sheep and cattle away. Corn fodder was stored in the tops of low trees. From a distance these aerial storage-places looked as if they might be the nests of some giant bird. Invariably a little shelter or wigwam stood in the centre of each field, or in several instances it had been built in the branches of a stunted tree. These are the Quechuas’ guard-houses; they are occupied by a watchman day and night so long as crops are in the field, and thieves have but slight chance, indeed, of escaping his vigilant eyes.

It was less than half a day’s ride from the Usiamayo to Mizque, a town of small size, the capital of the Province of Mizque. The cactus-forest belt of central Bolivia has its beginning in this region, although it does not reach its maximum development until some distance farther south. A part of the surrounding country, however, is fertile and provides pasturage for horses and cattle, and areas of some extent are also cultivated; this is particularly true of the land near the small stream bearing the same name as the town and province. A great deal of the acreage is planted in peppers, for which there is a good demand throughout the country, and which fetch a high price. The seeds are sown in small, sunken squares or “pans,” where the plants remain until several inches high. They are then transplanted to the fields. I saw numbers of Indians weeding in the plantations, and when they neglected their work or accidentally pulled up a few of the precious plants together with the grass, their employers did not hesitate to cuff or kick them. When the peppers are ripe they are dried and done up into bales of about fifty pounds each; the natives are very fond of them and eat quantities just as we eat an apple or other fruit.

The fauna of the Mizque region is typical of the arid highlands; but many species of birds belonging to a different zone were met with for the first time in Bolivia. I immediately recognized the white anis (guiras) that were so common near Asuncion, and there was also a species of puff-bird, or bucco, and a little finch of a deep-red color (Coryphospingus). The number of doves in the open fields was astonishing; they fed on weed-seeds, and when disturbed flew to the nearest bush or low tree which they covered much in the same manner that passenger pigeons are said to have done in this country not so many years ago. One could easily have secured thirty or forty with a single charge of number ten shot.

The plaza at Mizque.

Near Mizque lies a narrow valley enclosed on both sides by ridges of low mountains. We repaired to this space and camped in a decaying structure that formerly served as a sawmill; for, strange to relate, this little valley was originally wooded. Most of the trees had been cut down and converted into lumber, and while a large part of the land was under cultivation, there were also extensive patches of brush and second growth. Tujma, as the place is called, deserved more time than we could give it. In addition to the birds found at Mizque were many species unknown to us; among them a blue-fronted and a red-fronted parrakeet, and a gorgeous Amazon parrot. There was also a kind of macaw (Ara) that we saw in that region only, and even there it was rare; the forehead and shoulders are of a blazing crimson, and the underparts of a pale-yellow color, the rest of the bird being green. Most members of the parrot family were feeding on cactus fruits that were ripening in great abundance.

A hummer of rather modest attire, being of a grayish color, but larger than our own ruby-throat, had a dainty little nest, containing two white, bean-like eggs, suspended from the ceiling of our hut. At first the bird was greatly distressed at our appearance and darted out each time we came in; but finally it became more confident and returned, frequently hovering overhead to inspect us several minutes at a time, and then slipping quietly into the nest where it sat unconcernedly, its long tongue playing in and out of the bill, like a snake’s.

Our next station was the large Indian town of Totora. We covered the entire distance of more than thirty miles in a day. The country is rough and the trail runs up and down over numerous mountain-tops, varying between seven thousand one hundred and ten thousand feet in height. There are a number of deep ravines filled with low, dry woods; they form the connecting-links with the lowland forest, and it is up these avenues that the new fauna we were constantly observing finds an easy means of invading the uplands. Before reaching Totora we had seen guans, and jays of a dark-blue color.

There were many Indians on the trail; most of them were driving burros laden with fire-wood, peppers, or sundry articles. When the tired animals stopped for a moment’s breathing-spell, their owners beat them unmercifully with stones and clubs so that some of them dropped senseless in their tracks. The drivers also used sticks with sections of cactus stuck on the end as prods to urge on the worn-out creatures.