In the Wilds of South America

by Leo E. Miller

While riding along one morning we flushed a red-crested woodpecker (Chrysoptilus cristatus) from a hole in a stub near the road. The entrance to the cavity was about eight feet up, but the nest was down low in the hollow trunk. An investigation brought to view four pear-shaped, glossy, white eggs lying on a pad of chips.

This species is one of the commonest, and therefore one of the best-known woodpeckers. We found it very abundant throughout the uplands near, and south of Cochabamba, where there was a growth of cacti and low trees. Invariably there were two birds together, and not infrequently we saw flocks of four or five. It has a clear, powerful note, and a swift, undulating flight. I have frequently seen it on the ground in company with long-billed wood-hewers (Drymornis) and brown cachalotes (Homorus) searching for insects and larvæ among the débris always littering the ground beneath the giant club-cacti.

As we neared Sucre, a marked change was noticeable in the appearance of the Indians. Instead of the unattractive lot that we had encountered daily, they were a uniformly garbed, more primitive and more picturesque people. The greatest change was evident at Pulqué, which we reached a few weeks later.

Quechua habitation on the upland desert.

Tarabuco is the name given to a town of large size, located on a frigid mesa over ten thousand feet up. When we arrived there snow was falling and an icy wind blew at terrific velocity; but the natives seemed not at all discomfited by the blizzard, and were conducting the weekly market with the usual hilarity. Provisions of many kinds were to be had in abundance; mutton, bread, peaches, and eggs were particularly plentiful; but the lack of fruits and vegetables requiring a warm climate and rich soil was very noticeable. One could purchase all the necessaries of life in any of the numerous stores; most of them were imported from the United States and Europe.

We spent the night before reaching Sucre in a cluster of Indian dwellings called Cghilka. The pronunciation of the name is difficult to a foreigner, because two of the three “cliks” employed in the Quechua language are used in saying the word. Cghilka consisted of half a dozen low hovels, built of irregular stones and roofed over with grass. Flocks of sheep and a few burros nibbled the short grass, and goats clambered along the face of precipices unscalable to human beings; some of the latter also stood on the top of stone fences, or roofs, and several times we saw individuals that had climbed into the branches of a leaning mimosa and were unconcernedly browsing on the leaves.

The Indian women, it seemed to us, were everlastingly spinning in order to keep up the necessary supply of clothing. Those at Cghilka were no exceptions; but they also made unusually pretty blankets. In spite of the fact that many colors, such as red, blue, green, yellow, and white were used in the same blanket, the combination was so harmonious that the result was most pleasing. As a whole, the work somewhat resembles that of the Navajos, but the texture is not quite as fine. They also work attractive geometric designs into the pattern that immediately distinguishes the product of this region from that of any other. This is, perhaps, a retention of an ancient custom, for, it seems as if in olden times the inhabitants of each locality wore ponchos or blankets of a distinctive design; then, when the nation gathered in the holy city of Cuzco to celebrate some religious festival, it was possible to tell by these insignia from which part of the empire they came.

From Cghilka to Sucre is a distance of only eighteen miles, over a practically level plain, the elevation of which is in the neighborhood of ten thousand feet. There are few habitations until the immediate vicinity of the city is reached.

The approach to Sucre is quite attractive. We could see the assemblage of dazzling white edifices from a distance; and not long after we were galloping over the cobblestones between rows of neat, clean buildings on our way to the Hotel Español. In our journey from Cochabamba we had travelled nearly a thousand miles, and counting the several delays, had spent fifty-six days en route.