He returned to make the necessary arrangements for his expedition. We crossed the Chanchamayo by a stone bridge, and passed through the village of Acobamba. This town contains about fifteen hundred or two thousand inhabitants; but, like all the towns in the Sierra at this season, it appears deserted—no one in the streets, and most of the doors closed. The road is a steady and tolerably smooth ascent of the valley, which is narrow, pretty, and well cultivated. As usual, the hills facing the north are bare and rugged; those facing the south present more vegetation, but this is scant. Cactus and long clump grass run to within two-thirds of the top, and then the rock shoots perpendicularly up in naked majesty.
Three miles above Acobamba we passed the village of Picoi, which has its plaza, church and cemetery, with about one hundred houses.
Six miles further brought us to Palcamayo, a village of one thousand inhabitants, belonging to the "Doctrina" of Acobamba. A justice of the peace, a good-looking Indian, whom we encountered sitting at the door of a grog-shop in the plaza, conducted us to the house of the alcalde. We found this worthy drunk, and asleep on the floor, and were much annoyed with the attentions of another individual, who had a very dirty poultice on his jaws; this was his worship's secretary, who was in little better condition than his patron. Two drunken "regidores" came in to see us; and it seemed that all the magistracy of Palcamayo had been "on a spree." They required the money of us before they would get us or our cattle anything to eat.
It would be difficult to find a clearer sky and a purer atmosphere than we had here. The sky, at twilight, looked white or gray, rather than blue; and I thought it was cloudy until my eye fell upon the young moon, with edges as distinct and clear as if it were cut out of silver, and near at hand. The elevation of Palcamayo is ten thousand five hundred and thirty-nine feet above the level of the sea.
July 2.—Thermometer, at 6 a. m., 37; clear and calm. Three miles above Palcamayo we left the maize and alfalfa, and encountered potatoes and barley. The road a league above this point turns sharp to the westward, and ascends a steep and rugged "cuesta." This brought us out upon a small plain, bounded by low hills, and dotted with small detached houses, built of stone and covered with conical roofs of straw. They were circular, and looked like bee-hives. The plain was covered with a short grass, and many tolerably looking cattle and sheep were feeding on it. A small stream, coming from the westward, ran through its midst. The water had been carried by a canal half-way up the sides of the hills that bounded the plain to the northward, so as to enable the people to irrigate the whole plain. Where the water had broken through the canal, and spread itself over the side of the hill, it had frozen, and the boys were amusing themselves sliding down it.
At the western edge of the plain is the village of "Cacas," of two hundred and fifty or three hundred inhabitants. The people were celebrating the festival of St. Peter, for they are not particular about days. The church was lighted and decorated with all the frippery that could be mustered; and preparations were making for a great procession. There were two Indians, or Meztizos, dressed in some old-fashioned infantry uniform, with epaulets; flaming red sashes, tied in monstrous bows behind, and white gloves. (The cocked hats, for size and variegated plumage, beggar description.) These were evidently the military part of the procession; one was mounted on a little shaggy nag, with his sword hanging on the right-hand side; and the other was strutting about, nearly buried in his cocked hat, while just fourteen men were employed in caparisoning his horse. The drinking had already commenced; most of the population were getting drunk fast, and I have no doubt there was a grand row that night.
Drinking seems a very general vice amongst the inhabitants of these wet, cold, and highly-elevated plains. The liquor is invariably the Pisco or Ica brandy, made in that province. It is pleasant to the taste and of good quality. In the Montaña we had often occasion to regret the exchange of this for new-made cane rum.
The hills that bound the plain on the west have two salt springs, from which the inhabitants of the village get their salt by evaporation. The hill over which we rode is called the "Cuesta de la Veta," because travellers suffer from this sickness in passing it. As I had felt nothing of it, even at the Pass of Antarangra, I watched very closely for any symptoms of it here; but perceived none, though I sucked a cigar all the way to the top. The road to the top of the Cuesta is about three miles in length, and its ascent brought us to the historical plain of Junin, where Bolivar, on the 6th of August, 1824, gave the Spaniards a heavy and very nearly conclusive overthrow. Half an hour's ride over the plain brought into view the Western Cordillera, the Lake Chinchaycocha, and the pyramid erected by Mariano Rivero (then prefect of the province) to commemorate the battle. It stands off to the left of the road about a league, and is at the foot of a little hill, where the liberator stood to direct the fight; it is white, and seemed seventy or eighty feet high. Our day's ride of eighteen miles brought us to the town of Junin, where we took lodgings in the house of the governor; more drunken people there.
July 3.—Junin is a village of one thousand inhabitants, situated about a mile and a half from the southern extremity of the lake Chinchaycocha, and twelve thousand nine hundred and forty-seven feet above the level of the sea. This lake is twenty miles long, in a N. W. and S. E. direction, and has an average breadth of about six miles. It is said to discharge its waters into the Amazon by the river of Jauxa, which we crossed at Oroya, and which is a tributary of the Ucayali.
The inhabitants of Junin, and the other towns of this plain, are herdsmen. They raise cattle for the supply of Cerro Pasco and Tarma, and mules for beasts of burden. Their houses are built of mud and straw; and they eat mutton and macas, (a root of the potato kind, but looking, and when boiled tasting, more like a turnip.) The people of these regions find it very difficult to procure vegetables, as quinua and barley will not grain, nor potatoes grow, in the wet soil and cold atmosphere of the plain. They therefore have to resort to means for preserving the potato and its varieties, which are got from the valleys of the Andes. These means are, generally, drying and freezing; and they make a variety of preparations from the potato in this way. The macas are simply exposed to the frost and sun for a number of days, and then put away in a dry room. The inhabitants make a sort of soup or sirup of them, the smell of which, Rivero says, "is a little disagreeable to people unaccustomed to it," (it is really very offensive;) and it is the general opinion that it is a stimulant to reproduction.