At Pati a range of abrupt porphyritic cliffs rises from the plain, up which a rough zigzag pass leads to the "Pampa de Confital,"[128] the loftiest part of the road over this pass of the cordillera. A storm of hail began to fall, which turned into snow as we reached the pampa, and a ride of many hours over a succession of wild desolate plains, in an incessant snow-storm, brought us to the "alto de Toledo," the highest part of the road, and 15,590 feet above the level of the sea.[129] Some glorious snowy peaks appeared through the gloom at sunset, and after several weary hours in the darkness we at length arrived at the post-house of Cuevillas.
In the neighbourhood of Cuevillas there are large sheep-farms, one called Toroya, near the "alto de Toledo," and another called Tincopalca farther on. The sheep, at this enormous height, lamb in March and July, and, of the March lambs, usually about fifty per cent. survive. Beyond Cuevillas there are two large Alpine lakes, whence a river flows down into Titicaca, and we thus passed the watershed between the Pacific and the great lake. The scenery is grand and desolate, reminding me, in some respects, of the interior of Cornwallis Island in the Arctic regions. The road passes between the two lakes, and we reached the post-house of La Compuerta as the afternoon rain commenced. The hills are covered with tufts of coarse grass (Stipa ychu), of which the llamas eat the upper blades, while the sheep browse on the tender shoots underneath; and with two kinds of shrubby plants, one a thorny composita called ccanlli, and the other called tola or ccapo, which is a resinous Baccharis,[130] and is used for fuel.[131]
The gorge in which the La Compuerta post-house is situated is the only outlet for the waters of the lake. Mountains of great height rise up on either side, clothed, at this season, with herbage of the richest green, while ridges of scarped cliffs of dark porphyritic rock crop out at intervals. The river dashes noisily over huge boulders, and near its left bank are the rough stone buildings of the post-house. Great quantities of ducks, gulls, coots, godwits, and sandpipers frequent the shores of the lake. The postmaster supplied alfalfa for the mules, and a chupé consisting of potatoes and salt mutton for the travellers, at exorbitant prices; the mules were freed from their cargoes, which were placed within the porch, ready lashed up in their redecillas or hide nets; and we were soon rolled up in blankets and ponchos, while the snow continued to fall unceasingly through the early part of the night. When we got up next morning the thermometer was at 31° Fahr. indoors.
Starting at dawn, we descended the gorge, passing two ruined mining establishments, San Ramon and Santa Lucia, into green plains with large flocks of sheep scattered over them.
In these uninhabited wilds it is an event to meet a traveller, and his appearance is the signal for a succession of questions and answers. We here passed a cavallero, in whose dress and general appearance we saw a reflection of our own, excepting the comforters. He wore a large poncho of bright colours, reaching nearly to his heels; a broad-brimmed felt hat with a blue cotton handkerchief passed over it, and tied in a knot under his chin; an immense woollen comforter passed round his throat and face, until nothing appeared but his eyes; a pair of woollen gaiters, bright green, with black stripes; and huge spurs. He was an officer on his way to Arequipa, and complained of the severity of the weather and the heaviness of the roads. After a short conversation the traveller passed on, followed by his cargo-mules, and soon became a speck in the distance.
In the afternoon we came to the first signs of cultivation, since leaving the valley of Cangallo, in the neighbourhood of the great sheep-farm of Taya-taya—patches of quinoa, barley, and potatoes, with the huts of Indians scattered amongst them; and, crossing a rocky ridge, we came in sight of a vast swampy plain, with the little town of Vilque, at the foot of a fine rocky height, in the far distance, which we reached at sunset. The long rows of thatched brown huts dripping with rain, and the muddy streets, looked melancholy. But at the time of the great fair, in June, Vilque presents a very different appearance. The plains, for several miles beyond this little town, were so swampy as to be rendered almost impassable. It was with the greatest difficulty that we made our way across them, constantly wading and splashing through water, and in some places sinking so deep in the adhesive mud, that it was not without desperate exertions that the mules could extricate themselves. At length we came to a rocky ridge which bounded the vast pampa of Vilque, and continued our journey over rather drier ground.
Since leaving La Compuerta we had been continually descending; the vicuñas had disappeared, as they confine themselves to the loftiest and wildest parts of the cordillera; but, in the lower region between Vilque and Puno, the feeling of desolation and solitude is dissipated by the numbers of birds which enliven the country, and by the increased quantity and variety of wild flowers.
The lecca-leccas or plovers were very numerous, screaming shrilly as they flew in circles, or ran along the ground. In the clefts of the rocks there were many birds, like creepers, called haccacllo by the Indians, and pito in Spanish—beaks curved downwards, black on the top of the head, white underneath, red at the back of the neck, speckled wings, white breast, and a black line from the beak to the back of the neck. We also saw many small green paroquets, bright yellow finches called silgaritos, a kind of partridge called yutu, and, above all, the glorious coraquenque or alcamari, the royal bird of the Incas, whose black and white wing-feathers surmounted the imperial llautu or fringe of the sovereigns of Peru. The alcamari is a large and noble-looking bird of prey, with a scarlet head, black body, and long wing-feathers of spotless white. Wherever the plains are intersected by ridges of rocky cliffs, which is frequently the case, there are swarms of large rodents, called biscaches, which sat on their hind legs, and looked about inquisitively as we rode past.
Riding over several wide grassy plains, and passing the village of Tiquillaca, we arrived at the banks of the river Tortorani, which was so swollen as to be quite impassable. By following its course for about half a mile, we came to a place where the whole volume of water precipitates itself down a sheer declivity of 250 feet, and forms a magnificent cascade. A league below the falls we found a bridge, and, at sunset, we came in sight of the great lake of Titicaca, with the snowy range beyond. A steep zigzag descent leads down to the city of Puno, which is close to the shores of the lake, and hemmed in by an amphitheatre of argentiferous mountains.
Puno, the capital of the department, owes its origin and former prosperity to the rich veins of silver-ore in the surrounding country. It is approached, from the north, by a stone archway built over the road by General Deustua, who was prefect in 1850; and the streets slope by a gradual descent towards the lake. The houses are built of small-sized brown adobes, with roofs of thatch or red tiles, and courtyards very neatly paved with round pebbles and llama's knuckle-bones in patterns. There are scarcely any with more than a ground-floor, and the rooms open on to the court; but, though at this elevation, 12,874 feet above the sea, it is extremely cold at night, stoves are unknown; and the unusual luxury of a fireplace, which exists in one house, is merely a luxury to the eye, for it is never lighted. The streets are clean and well paved, and the stone church in the Plaza, dating from 1757, has an elaborately carved front and two towers. In another plaza is the college, a large building with an upper story, also built by General Deustua; and both these public squares have bronze fountains erected by the Government of General Echenique, the late President, besides drinking fountains in the corners of several of the streets. The water is excellent.