Equatorial America / Descriptive of a Visit to St. Thomas, Martinique, Barbadoes, and the Principal Capitals of South America

by Maturin M. Ballou

The smoother water inside of San Lorenzo is alive with small boats, some under sails, some propelled by oars, shooting in and out among the shipping which lie at anchor before the town. A pair of large whales assisted at this scene for our special benefit, just inside the harbor's mouth. It must have been only play on their part,—leviathans at play,—but they threw up the sea in such clouds of spray with their broad tails, as to make it appear like a battle-royal seen from a mile away.

We mentioned the fact of seeing cinchona bark in bales ready for shipping. Of all the products of South America, gold, silver, and precious stones included, the most valuable is the drug which is called quinine, made from the bark of the cinchona tree. There is no other one article known to the materia medica which has been used in such large quantities or with such unvarying success by suffering humanity. It was first introduced into Europe from Peru, and was then known as Peruvian bark. It was supposed at that time to be found only in this section of the continent; but subsequently it was discovered to abound in all the forests along the course of the Andes, and especially on their western slope. So large has been its export that it was found the source of supply was rapidly becoming exhausted, until local governments awoke to the importance of the matter, and protected by law the trees which produce it. These are no longer ruthlessly cut down to die, when yielding their valuable harvest, but only a certain quantity of the desirable bark is taken from each tree annually, so that nature replaces the portion which had been removed, by covering the trunk with a fresh growth. The cinchona tree, having been transplanted from South America, is now successfully cultivated in the islands of the Malacca Straits, Ceylon, India, and other tropical regions.

The tree which produces this valuable febrifuge belongs to the same family as the coffee plant. In appearance it is very like our native beech tree, having remarkably white wood.

The llama is found nearly all over South America, and is often seen as a beast of burden at Callao, taking the place here which the donkey or burro fills in Mexico. It has been described as having the head and neck of a camel, the body of a deer, the wool of a sheep, and the neigh of a horse. We do not agree with those who pronounce the llama an awkward creature. True, the body is a little ungainly, but the head, the graceful pose, the pointed, delicate ears, and the large, lustrous eyes are absolutely handsome. It can carry a burden weighing one hundred pounds over hard mountain roads, day after day, while living upon very scanty food. It is slow in its movements, patient when well treated, and particularly sure-footed. It is of a very gentle disposition, but when it finds the weight placed upon its back too heavy, like the Egyptian camel, it immediately lies down and will not rise until the load is lightened. The llama, or "mountain camel," as it has been aptly called, is the only domesticated native animal. The horse, ox, hog, and sheep are all importations which were entirely unknown here four centuries ago. The llama has two notable peculiarities: when angry it will expectorate at its enemy, and when hurt will shed tears. The expectoration is of an acrid, semi-poisonous nature, and if it strikes the eyes will, it is said, blind them. The llama, guanaco, alpaca, and vicuña were the four sheep of the Incas, the wool of the first clothing the common people; the second, the nobles; the third, the royal governors; and the fourth the Incas. The first two are domesticated, guanacos and vicuñas are wild, though they all belong to the same family.

The manners and customs of any people new to the traveler are always an interesting study, but in nothing are they more strongly individualized than in the pursuit of amusements. A favorite dance, known here as the zama cueca, is often witnessed out-of-doors in retired corners of the plaza or the alameda, as well as elsewhere. It requires two performers, and is generally danced by a male and female, being not unlike the Parisian cancan, both in the movement and the purpose of the expression. The two dancers stand opposite each other, each having a pocket handkerchief in the right hand, while the music begins at first a dull, monotonous air, which rapidly rises and falls in cadence. The dancers approach each other, swaying their bodies gracefully, and using their limbs nimbly; now they pass each other, turning in the act to coquettishly wave the handkerchief about their heads, and also to snap it towards each other's faces. Thus they advance and retreat several times, whipping at each other's faces, while throwing their bodies into peculiar attitudes. Again they resume the first movement of advance and retreat, one assuming coyness, the other ardor, and thus continue, until, as a sort of climax, they fall into each other's arms with a peal of hearty laughter. A guitar is the usual accompanying instrument, the player uttering the while a shrill impromptu chant. When a male dancer joins in this street performance, as is sometimes the case, it is apt to be a little coarse and vulgar.

There is very little in Callao to detain us, and one is quite ready to hasten on to Lima, the capital of Peru, hoping to escape the stench and universal dirtiness of the port.

The city of Lima has at this writing about one hundred and sixty thousand inhabitants, and is situated six miles from Callao, its shipping port, with which it is connected by two rival railways. These roads are constructed upon an up-grade the whole distance, but the rise is so gradual as to be almost imperceptible, though Lima is over five hundred feet higher than Callao. The capital, which is clearly visible from the water as we enter the harbor, presents from that distance, and even from a much nearer point of view, a most pleasing picture, being favorably situated on elevated ground, with its many spires and domes standing forth in bold relief. It has, when seen from such a distance, a certain oriental appearance, charming to the eye of a stranger. But it is deceptive; it is indeed distance which lends enchantment in this case, for upon arriving within its precincts one is rudely undeceived. The apparently grand array of architecture on near inspection proves to be flimsy and poor in detail: everything is bamboo frame and plaster; no edifice is solid above the basement. Still, one can easily imagine how attractive the place must have been in those viceregal days, the period of its false glory and prosperity. The capital stands almost at the very foot of the Cordillera which forms the coast range, and is built upon both sides of the Rimac, over which stretches a substantial stone bridge of six arches, very old and very homely, but all the more interesting because it is so venerable. The width of the river at this point is over five hundred feet. In the winter season it is a very moderate stream, but when the summer sun asserts itself, the snow upon the neighboring mountains yields to its warmth, and the Rio Rimac then becomes an alpine torrent. It is like the Arno at Florence, which at certain seasons has the form of a river without the circulation. The anecdote is told here of a Yankee visitor to Lima who was being shown over the city by a patriotic citizen, and who on coming to this spot remarked to his chaperon: "You ought either to buy a river or sell this bridge."

At the entrance of this ancient structure stands a lofty and very effective archway, with two tall towers, and a clock in a central elevation. Prominent over the arched entrance to the roadway is the motto Dios y La Patria,—"God and Country." Nothing in Lima is of more interest than this hoary, unique, moss-grown bridge.

One pauses before the crumbling yet still substantial old structure to recall the vivid scenes which must have been enacted in the long, long past upon its roadway. Here madly contending parties have spilled each other's blood, hundreds of gaudy church processions have crossed these arches, bitter civil and foreign wars have raged about the bridge, dark conspiracies have been whispered and ripened here, solitary murders committed in the darkness of night, and lifeless bodies thrown from its parapet; but the dumb witness still remains intact, having endured more than three hundred years of use and abuse.

It is not necessary to unpack one's waterproof or umbrella in Lima. It never rains here, any more than it does in the region of Aden, at the mouth of the Red Sea. All vegetable growth is more or less dependent upon artificial irrigation, and in the environs where this is judiciously applied the orange and lemon trees are heavy with golden fruit, forming a rich contrast with the deep green of the luxuriant plantain, the thick, lance-like agave, and the prolific banana. The city and its environs would be as poorly off without the water of the Rimac as would the Egyptians if deprived of the annual overflow of the fertilizing Nile. Though the river is so inconsiderable at certain seasons, still it does supply a certain quantity of water always, which is improved to the utmost. Dews some times prevail at night, so heavy as to be of partial benefit, giving to vegetation a breath of moisture, and taking away the dead dryness of the atmosphere. This, however favorable for vegetation, is considered unwholesome for humanity. The flowers and shrubbery of the plaza droop for want of water, and are only preserved by great care on the part of those in charge of them. In some of the private gardens the pashinba palm-tree is seen, very peculiar in its growth, being mounted as it were upon stilts, formed by the exposed straight roots which radiate, like a series of props, to support the tall trunk. At its apex is a singular, spear-like stem, pointing straight skyward, without leaf or branch, just beneath which are the graceful, long, curved palm leaves, exquisite in proportions, bending like ostrich feathers. At first sight this tree looks like an artificial production, in which nature has taken no part. Lying only twelve degrees south of the equator, Lima has a tropical climate, but being also close to the foothills of the Andes, she is near to a temperate district, so that her market yields the fruits and vegetables of two zones.