Landing at the Bolivian side of Puerto Perez, the immense plateau which covers all the centre of Bolivia stretches out on all sides landwards, until it meets the inner and higher range of the Cordilleras.
La Paz, the then capital of Bolivia, on account of the fact that the President, General Pando, lived there, was our next objective point, and we found the old "Diligence Coach," drawn by eight horses, awaiting to convey us the forty-two miles across the plain. This part of the journey is most uninteresting, and the road was only fair. All along it is the same level, stony ground, entirely devoid of trees, and covered completely with large, round stones. These latter the Indians have to gather in heaps, and thus make some open patches for growing their potatoes and grain, which, with their "Chalona," or sheep dried in the sun, are their principal foodstuffs throughout the year. Besides, the surplus produce is conveyed to the larger towns on llamas, and there realised to the best advantage. It is a very interesting sight every Sunday morning to see the "market," and the curio hunter would just be in his element, as not only do the Indians bring in vegetables and fruits, but all sorts of native silver in quaint shapes, and ornaments made by the Indians themselves can be picked up very cheaply. The dresses of the Indian squaws are also very picturesque, and, as far as I can remember, red, green, and bright yellow were the dominating colours. But I am getting away from the main subject.
Right ahead of us there is the gigantic Illimani, silent and majestic, with its perpetually white crown rising 22,000 feet above sea-level. One begins to wonder where La Paz can be, as the plain seems to extend right to the foot of the mountain. Keeping steadily on, however, the coach eventually arrives at the brink of a hitherto unnoticed hollow, and the scene that here awaits the traveller is magnificent in the extreme. To describe the view baffles my limited vocabulary. There you are looking down on the roofs of the houses in La Paz, which lies snugly 1,200 feet below you. It just seems that you could drop a stone on to them, so precipitate are the cliffs; but it is the enormous drop that deceives the eye, because, of the route over which the coach passes, six miles have yet to be traversed before getting into the town. I have seen La Paz from the top of the "Cuesta" both by day and night, and the latter effect, while losing much of its grandeur and magnificence, on account of the darkness, almost surpasses in beauty that of the daylight vision. The whole city is lit up by electricity, and it just seems as if one were gazing down on another firmament, if such a thing can be imagined. I repeat, that to fully appreciate this special scenery words fail me.
Allow me to transgress once more. On the first occasion that I reached the top of the entrance to La Paz it was under rather "sporting" circumstances, which, I think, I may be excused for interpolating here. I had come on horseback and alone from the mining town of Coro Coro, sixty-six miles off, and it is a very hard and tiring journey. The elevation above the sea varies from about 14,000 feet to 12,000 feet at the La Paz end, and therefore great speed is impossible on account of the rarity of the air. Apparently I had journeyed too fast for my horse, as the poor animal died when I was still eighteen miles from La Paz. Here was a nice "kettle of fish." It was all right enough as long as daylight lasted, but when darkness overtook me I was fairly "in the soup." Not knowing the road, and there being nothing to guide me and no one to consult, I simply walked along slowly, hoping to strike up against some Indian settlement, and pass the night somehow or other. I trudged along for goodness knows how long until I eventually did hear some sounds indicating that at any rate I was nearing some encampment or habitation. I could hear what was supposed to be music, and in the dark made my way, as near as I could judge, in the direction of the sound, and in about half an hour my efforts were rewarded, as I had overtaken a band of roving Indians, all in fancy dress, playing funny reed instruments and dancing continuously as they travelled. They could not speak Spanish, but at that time I knew sufficient of their language—"Aymara," as it is called—and soon explained to them my position. I was allowed to accompany them, as I found they also were bound for La Paz, and soon became a lifelong friend of theirs when I produced a small bottle of whisky which I had with me. The experience was of a unique nature for a white man, but I must confess I rather appreciated the novelty than otherwise, and when I reached La Paz about 1 a.m. I felt that I had had quite an adventure, which might easily have had a more sinister termination, had my Indian escort shown the other side of their nature. Well, to come back to our old coach, which I think I left at the top of the La Paz entrance, I resumed my seat and got into the city at mid-day. I put up at an excellent hotel, of which there were several, and at once bethought me of looking for work, as the balance in my bank (otherwise my pocket) did not warrant my looking upon my visit to La Paz as one of pleasure only. At the time I write of there was one solitary Britisher resident in La Paz, and he was a Scotchman like myself. This was before the railway from Oruro was built, and he was proprietor of the coaches that ran, once a week, from La Paz to the south; and I understood had quite a remunerative business. La Paz is a peculiarly situated city, as the reader may imagine from my description of its position. The streets are mostly hilly and steep, with the exception of one or two which run parallel to each other on both sides of the valley, at the foot of, and in the centre of which flows, the La Paz river. This it bridged in about half a dozen places for horse traffic, and while, for most of the year, there is scarcely any water in the river, when the snow melts it is converted into a veritable roaring torrent; and I happened to be present during one of the most serious accidents that had ever occurred from this cause.
It had rained very copiously for some days, and the river had risen enormously—in fact higher than ever before recorded—and many were the predictions as to how the bridges would stand the weight of water. The usual sightseers were about, and, unfortunately, a large number of them paid the penalty with their lives. They had been duly warned that a certain bridge was dangerous and threatened to give way, but this evidently excited their curiosity all the more; at any rate, a crowd tried to cross, with the result that the bridge tumbled into the raging stream, carrying with it over 200 people, and many of them were drowned—the exact number was never known.
Quite an important city is La Paz, and a large number of wealthy mine-owners reside there, drawing their incomes from rich tin mines in the neighbourhood. There are also numerous stores from which the wants of the distant population that reside in the rubber country are supplied. The larger proportion of the inhabitants are Indians, and I cannot help remarking that the Bolivian Indians, men and women, are about the ugliest type of human creatures I have yet seen. Besides, they are very illiterate, and it is estimated that, of the total population of Bolivia, only about 30 per cent. can read or write. In the south, Aymara is chiefly spoken; but further north, Quechua is the commoner language. I saw several bull fights in the bullring of which the town boasts, but they were so very disgusting that I refrain from nauseating my readers with details.
The Cathedral was only half completed when I was there, and I understand is still in the same condition. I was forgetting to mention that there was no British Minister or Consul in La Paz, and the story goes that, at some previous period, a Bolivian President compelled the British official representative to ride round the plaza seated on a donkey, but with his face to the tail; the consequence being that the Prime Minister of Great Britain figuratively wiped Bolivia off the map. Anything which we required from the Diplomatic Service had to be obtained through the medium of the British Minister resident in Lima, in Peru. This may now be altered, but I am not aware of the fact. I remained several months in La Paz in the employment of a Bolivian magnate, but the remuneration not being commensurate with my ambitions, I eventually arranged to accompany the proprietor of a very large rubber forest on a trip to his properties on the higher reaches of the River Amazon, and hence my privilege of being able to offer you a perusal of my experiences across the inner ranges of the Cordillera mountains. His daughter also accompanied him, and, although the journey is a most uncomfortable one in more ways than one, she stood the fatigue of many days' riding on mule-back, over trails which did not deserve the name of roads, just about as well as any of the rest of us.
For a trip of this kind many provisions have to be made, as very little indeed can be procured on the journey in the way of good food or lodging. We accordingly had to carry our beds and bedding, and in fact everything we could think of in the form of clothes, food, firearms, and, of course, the necessary accompaniment in liquid form. Most of our baggage and what we might not require at a moment's notice we sent on ahead with a day's anticipation, and eventually on the 20th May, 1901, our caravan departed from the then capital of Bolivia, at 8 a.m. Our conveyance, to start with, consisted of a coach drawn by four mules, and it took much longer to climb the steep "Cuesta" than it had taken us to descend on previous occasions already mentioned. However, our animals were good and in about an hour and a-half we reached the top of the hill, and I took what proved to be my last view of La Paz City.
The journey for the first forty miles is over the same ground as I have already referred to, in the direction of Lake Titicaca, and there is nothing more to be said about it, beyond that we changed animals at a place called Ocomisto, this being simply a few Indian huts where there is always a supply of grain and water for the animals, and the ordinary country fare for the passing traveller. There was a long journey ahead of us, so we only remained during the time that was occupied in outspanning the tired mules and inspanning the fresh lot. At 1 o'clock we reached Machacamarca, another "tambo" or resting-place, and were very disgusted to find that our pack animals, which we had dispatched the day before, had got no farther than this point. Our desired destination for the night was the Indian town of Achicachi, twelve leagues off, but as it was now quite out of the question to think of travelling our baggage animals so far before night should overtake us, we had to change our plans and therefore directed our coach towards Guarina, another Indian town on the shores of Lake Titicaca, but much nearer than Achicachi, and we eventually arrived there at 5 p.m., having covered, more or less, fifty miles since morning. The journey seemed longer, as the country is so much alike all along the route; but as the roads were fair, travelling was quite comfortable.
Guarina is purely an Indian fishing village, and the only white people are the Bolivian half-caste authorities. As I have already stated, there are no hotels or even lodging-houses in these Indian towns, and ordinary travellers have just to hunt about until they find a place suitable to put beds for the night. However, as my friend was a "personage" in Bolivia, in other words, a man of position and power in political circles, we of course fared considerably better than we should otherwise have done had he not been with us; and we were invited to put up in the house of one of these men in authority. He did his best for us in their frugal way of living, and gave us a meal consisting of "Chairo," which is soup as black as coal, and made from frozen potatoes which are called "chuno." These are about the size of walnuts, hard and black, and have to be well soaked before cooking, and then they are not a savoury bite. The next plate consisted of "Chalona," already described as lean sheep dried in the sun, and which, generally speaking, is very repugnant in appearance, smell, and taste. Never mind, we were hungry and partook of whatever was brought along, until the "inner man" cried content! The meal, I may add, was washed down with a cheap "wine" distilled from cheaper raisins, but it was something wet, and for the time sufficed.