Our pack animals arrived at Guarina about 7 p.m., and we very soon had our things unpacked and occupied our beds, knowing that a pretty early start would be made in the morning. The night passed uneventfully, and at daybreak we got under way, bound for Achicachi, about five leagues off. There is still a road for vehicles to this town, and keeping along the shores of Lake Titicaca, we reached this larger Indian town about 9 a.m. The population was about 5,000 Indians, but it is a very uninteresting, bleak spot, and we only remained long enough to have a square meal, which we were again fortunate enough to have provided for us by the reigning magistrate. That over, we then dispatched our coach on its return journey to La Paz, and thought of our other means of transport for the forward journey. Good mules we had sent ahead, and were now awaiting us saddled and ready, and we at last got started on this the more arduous part of our journey inland. Our destination for the night was Gualata, a small holding belonging to my fellow-traveller, and we reached it at about 1 o'clock, having climbed probably 2,000 feet higher up the mountains. Cultivation of cereals and potatoes is carried on on a limited scale, owing to the altitude, and taking it all round, the house, although comfortable enough, was situated in about as bleak and bare a spot as it is pretty well possible to imagine.
Nevertheless, it was peopled by about sixty Indians, who turned out in true Indian style in their beautifully coloured robes and making horrible discordant noises which were intended for music—all, of course, to show their appreciation of their "patron." Here, of course, we got all we required, and as there were any amount of fowls to be had, our bill-of-fare improved in accordance. There was nothing to do specially, and we did not feel inclined to move about much at this elevation above the sea, so we were quite pleased when bed-time came round, and without any ceremony each retired to their respective couches on the floor. Owing to excessive cold, however, sleep was out of the question, and it was a relief when day dawned on May 22nd. After refreshing ourselves with a cup of tea we set out for Sorata, distant about six leagues. Travelling was now much slower as the roads were very bad, and in some places very steep and covered with loose stones. This made the foothold bad for the mules, but we trusted to the useful animals entirely, letting them go along on a loose rein to choose their own footing, which they did very successfully. We passed the Indian village of Illabaya, perched on the side of a hill, and all plotted out in small squares for the cultivation of vegetables, etc., of which we bought a supply for our own use. The highest point we passed was over 14,000 feet, and then began the gradual descent into the pretty little town of Sorata, 6,000 feet lower down. The path was not of the best, and the pace was very slow; but the scenery was quite refreshing compared with what we had already passed through.
Sorata is indeed very pretty and quaint, and although comparatively out of the world, a traveller can spend a short time there pleasantly, and personally speaking, the few days we remained were very enjoyable, thanks once more to my friend's influence. For a change we did not sleep on the floor, and by way of recreation I scented out a billiard table, not a good one, it is true, and the balls were rather elliptical; but as I had once personated the "Mikado," à la Gilbert & Sullivan, the conditions were not so disconcerting as they would doubtless have been to a less famous personage! Sorata, being the nearest town to the Bolivian rubber districts which export their products to the Pacific coast, is naturally of more consequence on that account, as all materials and merchandise for the interior must pass through the hands of the Sorata merchants, while the rubber exported to the coast also finds its way through the medium of Sorata agents.
There is the usual plaza in the centre of the town, where the youth and beauty disport themselves in the way peculiar to these mountainous regions, which consists of walking round and round at a good pace to keep up the circulation, as the weather is nearly always cold in Sorata. Illampu, the competitor of Illimani and Aconcagua, and which claims to be the highest peak in South America, rises up magnificently right above and round the town, and visitors for the first time must really wonder how they are to find a road to cross these gigantic mountains, as the town appears to be so completely shut in.
However, on 27th May we started to ascend the track forming the way to the interior, and got a fine send-off by the inhabitants, the more important of whom turned out to bid us adieu and wish us luck over a case or two of beer. The climb before us was a constant one for 18 miles, and to-day we were to pass the highest point of our entire trip. This we reached about midday, at just under 16,000 feet. We were above the perpetual snow-line for a short time, and it was piercingly cold, besides we had to go slowly on account of the thin air, but we kept steadily on and reached an old mining establishment called "El Injenio" at 5 p.m., having done 24 miles in all since morning. There is a long, steep descent to the old mining camp by a narrow winding track cut out of the mountain side, and as the drop on one side to the little stream down below was about 40 to 50 feet, and there was no protecting fence of any kind, we decided to get off our mules, and accordingly completed the worst part of the way on foot, and of course this made travelling very much slower.
Apparently, gold-washing had not been carried on for a very long time, as although the main building still has a roof, the whole place has a very deserted look about it; but, nevertheless, it still affords a covering for weary travellers like ourselves, and we soon began to select the most comfortable looking corners for our beds. There was an old Indian there who earns a meagre existence by selling forage to passing travellers for their beasts of burden; and he was also utilised by us for getting a fire ready and boiling water for a welcome cup of warm tea.
One thousand feet above our heads, as it seemed, we could see Llane, another of these quaint, Indian hamlets, but the appearance of the exceedingly precipitate track up to it did not excite us in any desire to make the ascent. After partaking of some food, we got under our blankets in the usual way at sunset to once more sleep the sleep of the contented traveller. By 6.15 next morning we were again in the saddle and under way—the road was now even narrower than before, about two feet wide only—winding round and round the mountain side, ascending all the time, and in some parts far too steep for comfortable riding. From now onwards the journey was over tracks, not roads, and many of the ascents and descents were so steep that it was quite out of the question to attempt to negotiate them on muleback. We, accordingly, with philosophic patience had just to accept the inevitable, and get off and lead our animals over these now really dangerous parts. Some of the precipices down to the river bed were now much deeper, and had we slid over, we might have experienced considerable inconvenience at the bottom, and a greater difficulty in getting up again. The roads became worse and worse, and really they could be given no other name than "goat-tracks," but the mule is a wonderful beast, and let him have his head (on no account attempt to guide him), there is not much fear of any serious trouble. Our sleeping place for the night was to be at an old ruin of a house at a bare, but more level, opening in the mountains, called Tolapampa, and before reaching this we had to negotiate much the worst pass on the whole route. This is called the "tornillo" (screw), and it is a real corkscrew path, cut out of the mountain side at an angle of about 50 deg., and about 450 feet of a climb.
Riding was of course impossible, and we scrambled more than walked until we safely got over the top, very tired and puffed out. The mules with their cargo followed our example, and it was wonderful to see how they kept their feet; as one false step might have sent them to the bottom, carrying everything behind them too, and on more than one occasion this has happened, the animals falling, generally being killed outright in the fall. Pushing on as fast as possible, it was not till 4 o'clock p.m. that our residence for the night loomed in view, and it did not inspire one that it could supply much in the way of home comforts. Sure, the old hovel had walls and a roof, but beyond that there were no windows, and where the door ought to have been there was only a hole in the wall, but nothing to close it with to keep out the intense cold.
We, of course, knew when we started that we would have to rough it, so there was no use grumbling now, and therefore set about at once to get something to make a fire with. With great good fortune we, after a great deal of searching and gathering, obtained some old rubbish that burned. I say with good luck, because this is a treeless region yet, at an elevation of 10,000 feet, and fuel is naturally always at a premium. For cooking it did not matter so much, as we had a spirit lamp, but it was to warm our bodies and keep up our spirits that made the fire so desirable. Darkness was on us before we finished our evening meal, and we looked forward to the night with no very pleasant forebodings—and it did turn out a tiresome night—it rained all the time and the cold was extreme—so much so, that we eventually sat up most of the time, hoping by daylight to move on to a more charitable atmosphere.