Going farther down the coast one reaches the mighty peaks of Peru and Bolivia. An American woman, Miss Annie S. Peck, has scaled Mt. Huascaran (22,051 ft.), and holds the unique record of having climbed higher than any other woman. It was an achievement that deservedly brought her great honour. Mt. Illimani (21,490 ft.) is the loftiest peak in Bolivia. It means “bright condor,” according to the generally accepted derivation. Its frozen crest was conquered by an Englishman, Sir Martin Conway, and the Union Jack was planted on the very summit. This mountain, and its neighbour, Mt. Sorata (21,490 ft.), were worshipped as gods by the Incas. A band of superstitious natives, on learning his intention to invade the sanctuary of their god, who dwelt on Illimani, made an attempt to murder him, but did not succeed in finding the party. Their tradition asserts that a great cross of gold was planted by the god on the summit, and they were afraid these strangers would carry it away. At the foot of these mountains lies Lake Titicaca, the sacred lake of the Incas.
The hardships endured on these climbs are almost indescribable. The intense cold and the rarefied air almost overcome the reserve vitality. The weakening effect of diminished atmospheric pressure is so enervating that exertion can only be made a few steps at a time. Headache, nausea and blood running from the nose and ears are the more violent effects. It is almost impossible to keep the feet from being frost-bitten, and they have to be rubbed occasionally to restore circulation. Says Mr. Conway: “I asked myself more than once whether the game was worth the candle, for there was something so cold and unsympathetic about the gloom and the ice and the bare rocks, that for a time it weighed like a nightmare upon my spirits.” The exhaustion is so great that it is almost impossible to enjoy the triumph of success. Speaking of this the same explorer says: “The moment was one of satisfaction, in that our toil ceased; but we had no sense of triumph, nor was there breath enough left in any of us for an exclamation of joy in the hour of victory. Nothing was said or done for several minutes; we just sat down and rested.” As compensations, however, there are frequently magnificent cloud effects. Out of the white sea of snow there mount, under the uplift of hot air currents, great towers of cloud, which rise high into the air like the smoke-discharge from a volcano. Huge caves and cloud avenues are formed, wherein dark-blue shadows gather, with occasionally a high mountain top peeping forth like the foundation stone of a gigantic cloud castle. Then one’s vision is so broadened that he seems to stand on the very top of the world itself.
In “Argentina and Her People of To-day,” the writer has given an account of an ascent of Aconcagua by Mr. E. A. Fitzgerald’s party, and in this work some mention will be made of the conquest of Tupungato by the same party. This mountain can be seen clearly outlined against the sky from the Pass of the Cumbre, although it is distant fully thirty miles. The route lies down through great masses of fallen rock, the stones being on an average twice the size of a man’s head. The stones are hard and unworn by the forces of nature, presenting a surface of sharp, jagged edges. It is an extremely difficult pass to traverse because of these rocks and danger of slipping, which in many cases would hurl the traveller many hundreds of feet below. Sudden and violent storms also rage around this mountain, which renders the work of climbing still more difficult and dangerous.
The distances, as in almost all mountain climbing, are very deceiving, and what oftentimes seems to be but the work of an hour may require many hours to accomplish. Terrific wind storms at times spring up, against which it is almost impossible for a man to stand, and this also adds to the dangers because of rocks which are sometimes hurled down the mountain sides. As the altitude increases the rarity of the atmosphere and the consequently intense cold render progress almost painful. It is necessary for the mountain climber to stop every few minutes to rest, as the cold and the wind and rare atmosphere all combine to exhaust the vitality. Three times Mr. Fitzgerald’s party attempted the ascent of Tupungato, and as many times were they compelled to abandon it. Bleeding at the nose, frozen extremities and weakness of the heart attacked the various members of the party, and compelled them to descend to lower altitudes. A fourth attempt, however, was more successful. Each failure had taught something, so that each effort was made under slightly better conditions and with better equipment.
Here is the description by Mr. Vines, as it appears in “The Highest Andes:” “I was on the summit of Tupungato at last, and all my efforts and disappointments were more than repaid. I stood on a great mound in shape like a pyramid, with a blunted top some two yards wide rising several hundred feet above the general surface of the dome. In the whole expanse of sky around over ocean and land I could not discern a single cloud. Only in the direction of the Pacific a haze hung over the mountains. In the brilliant air the spectacle that lay before us was one of vast extent and grandeur. Range upon range of mountains stretched away towards the great plain of Santiago, forty miles to the west. Far away, beyond the hills that almost seemed to lie at our feet, stretched the great waters of the Pacific, a tract of blue ocean sparkling to the horizon, and clearly visible, although the distance from Tupungato to the seacoast is not less than one hundred and thirty miles.
“The view from the top of Tupungato is in many ways even finer than that obtained from Aconcagua. The expanse of ocean visible toward the west is less vast, but there is ample compensation in the outlook over the great unknown plain on the eastern side. The Pampas of Argentina stretch almost without a break from our very feet to the South Atlantic Ocean. The Andes seem to rise up from Santiago in ever ascending gradations, until at last they culminate in the immense mass of Tupungato; behind, they fall brokenly away; the mountains disappear; and a country almost fen-like in its monotonous flatness succeeds. The only break on the Argentine side is that of the Sierra de la Plata, not many more than twenty miles to the northeast. On the Chilean side a score of dark peaks rear their heads, a sinister array of precipitous impossibilities from which any climber would turn away in despair. To the north and to the south the same great barriers arise. Looking along this distinct and sharp edged chain to the north and south it was hard to understand how any frontier question between the republics could come about.
“That Aconcagua was a high mountain we well knew. We had all suffered from its height, but, when near at hand, it was quite impossible to realize the vastness of its proportions. Not so from where we now stood on a pinnacle sixty miles away. I had long known it was over four thousand feet higher than any mountain within thirty miles of it, but it looked ten thousand feet higher as it reared its immense head and shoulders from amongst its brothers, like some huge rock projecting out of the waves of the sea. It stood before me without rival, even the great ridges of Juncal did not challenge it, although they were almost thirty miles nearer. Behind Aconcagua, but almost forty miles farther, and too far off for comparison, I could see the white slopes of Mercaderio.”
The guanaco and llama are animals which are peculiar to the Andean regions. The former is especially plentiful in Patagonia and the southern Andean ranges, and many of them are found in Southern Chile. To the natives it means food, garments and tents, so that it is hunted both for its meat and skin. Without the guanaco the question of existence would be a difficult one for those people to solve. The vicuña, which is found in Northern Chile and Bolivia, is of the same family but smaller and more beautiful. Its fur is very valuable and this animal is becoming scarce. The alpaca is still smaller but flocks of this animal are maintained as we herd sheep. The wool is almost as fine and soft as silk, and, after a year’s growth, becomes almost a foot long.
Of this animal family, which is closely allied to the camel, the most important is the llama. To one who has never seen the llama, except in a menagerie or “zoo,” its real usefulness is not apparent. Before the arrival of the Spaniards on the west coast this gentle animal was the only beast of burden known to the Inca races. Thousands upon thousands of these American camels were used by the natives in transportation on the plateaus and across the lofty mountains. Like the camel it can go for days without food or drink. Even to-day, with the introduction of the horse and mule, there are probably as many or more llamas in use than when Pizarro first landed on the shores of South America. It is to the Andean native what the reindeer is to the Lapp—milk and flesh for food, skin for garments, hair for cloth, sinews for thread, etc. Some are black, with pretty little white kids, while others are almost white and have black little llamas following them.