"Caya" is made from the oca and the mashua, (a variety of the oca,) by putting them in water till they rot, and then exposing them to the sun and cold. This, when cooked, smells worse than the macas, and no stomach but that of an Indian or a beast could possibly tolerate it.
There are two kinds of "chuno." One (the black) is made from the common potato by soaking it some days in water, then pressing it to express all the moisture, and freezing it. The white (called moray) is made from a large, bitter potato, which abounds in the departments of Junin, Cuzco, and Puno. The potatoes are put in water, in a bag, at the setting of the sun, and taken out before sunrise. This operation is carried on for fifteen or twenty days. It is an especial condition of this chuno's turning out well that it shall be put in water after sunset, and taken out before sunrise; for, if it is touched by the sun, it immediately turns black. It is then pressed and exposed to the sun for a few days.
"Chochoca" is the common potato, first cooked and peeled, and then frozen. This and the chuno are healthy and nutritive articles of diet.
I quote these means of preserving the potato and its varieties from Rivero, who thinks that these articles of food will, in time, become of great importance, particularly in the supply of the army and navy, and for long journeys or voyages; and that if the European nations knew of these productions, and the means of preserving them, they would draw great advantages from the knowledge.
The plain, about forty-five miles long, and from six to twelve broad, is generally wet, and in some places marshy. The soil is gravelly, with a light covering of mould, producing a short grass, scarcely adequate for the support of the flocks, which are indeed of small size, but sometimes fat and good. A great number of large beautiful waterfowl, including the scarlet flamingo and several varieties of snipe, frequent the banks of the lake and marshy places. The people cut their supply of fuel from the turf of the bogs, in the dry, and stack it up for use in the rainy season. There is said to be much thunder and lightning here at the commencement of the rainy season, (about the first of October,) and the lightning frequently falls on a hill about four miles to the eastward of the town, where the inhabitants say there is much loadstone. The plain is about thirteen thousand feet above the level of the sea. It has a gentle slope downwards from west to east. I found the difference in elevation (by temperature of boiling water) between the villages of Junin and Ninaccaca (the latter about twenty miles to the west of the former) to be four hundred and forty-five feet.
The road onward from Junin runs not far from the banks of the lake. On the left we had the grand snow-covered domes and pinnacles of the Western Cordillera sleeping in the sunlight, while clouds and storm enveloped the Eastern. About 2 p. m., a breeze from the northward brought some of the storm down upon us. It snowed fast; the flakes were small and round, like hail, but soft and white. The thermometer, which was 54 at the commencement of the storm, fell, during its continuance of ten minutes, to 46. We found an overcoat very comfortable.
About fifteen miles from Junin we passed the village of Carhuamayo. Here I saw the only really pretty face I have met with in the Sierra, and bought a glass of pisco from it. The road between Junin and Carhuamayo is a broad and elevated one, built of stones and earth by the Spaniards. Without this the plain would be impassable in the rainy season. Six miles further we stopped at the tambo of Ninaccaca.
July 4.—The village of Ninaccaca, of two or three hundred inhabitants, lies off to the right of the road, on which the tambo is situated, about half a mile. I would have gone there, but I was desirous of sleeping in a tambo, for the purpose of testing the accounts of other travellers who complain so bitterly of them. We were fortunate enough to have the tambo to ourselves, there being no other travellers; and I had quite as comfortable a time as in the alcalde's house at Palcamayo, or in that of the governor of Junin. My bed is generally made on the baggage in the middle of the floor; while Ijurra takes to the mud standing bed-places which are to be found in every house. Last night I woke up, and finding him very uneasy, I asked "if he had fleas up there." He replied, with the utmost sang-froid, and as if he were discussing some abstract philosophical question with which he had no personal concern whatever, that "this country was too cold for fleas, but that his bed-place was full of lice." It made my blood run cold; but long before I got out of the mouth of the Amazon I was effectually cured of fastidiousness upon this or any similar subject.
We were somewhat annoyed by the attentions of the master of the house, who was very drunk. His wife told us next morning that he came near killing her with his knife, and would infallibly have beaten her, but that she told him "those strangers were soldiers, and would shoot him if he did." Her naïve way of telling how she managed the man, and got off from the beating, was quite amusing. The accent of these people is a sort of sliding drawl that makes every voice alike. They use an imperfect Quichua or Inca language, which I am told is only spoken perfectly in the neighborhood of Cuzco.
Our route now approached the Western Cordillera fast. About three miles from the tambo the plain began to be broken into rolling hills. The direction of the road, which had been W. N. W., changed to N. W. by N., and crossed them. After crossing a range we stopped to breakfast at a collection of a few huts, where I was amused at an instance of the apathy of the people. A very common reply to the inquiry of the traveller if he can have such and such things, is "manam cancha," (there is none; we haven't it). We rode up to the door of a hut, the mistress of which was sitting "knitting in the sun" at the back of it. She heard our horses' tread, and too lazy to change her position, without seeing us or ascertaining if we wanted anything, she screamed out "manam cancha." Ijurra abused her terribly; and we had our water boiled (which was all we wanted) at another hut. The Viuda pass of the Cordillera, which is generally crossed by travellers between Lima and Cerro Pasco, was in view from this place, bearing S. 30° W. Immediately after starting, we began passing haciendas for the grinding of ores and getting out silver. They are situated on small streams that come from either the Eastern or Western Cordillera, and that find their way into Lake Chinchaycocha. They all seem dry at this season; and none of the haciendas are at work. Passed the old village of Pasco. This was once the great mining station, but, since the discovery of the mines at the Cerro, it is falling into decay. Three miles from this the country becomes more hilly and rocky, losing the character of Pampa. The passage of a low, but abrupt chain of hills, brings the traveller in view of Cerro Pasco. The view from this point is a most extraordinary one. I can compare it to nothing so fitly as the looking from the broken and rugged edges of a volcano into the crater beneath. The traveller sees small houses, built, without regard to regularity, on small hills, with mounds of earth and deep cavities in their very midst; and mud chimneys of ancient furnaces, contrasting strikingly with the more graceful funnel of the modern steam engine; the huge cross erected on the hill of Sta. Catalina, near the middle of the city, which his fancy may suppose placed there to guard, with its holy presence, the untold treasures beneath; two beautiful little lakes, only divided by a wide causeway at the southern extremity of the crater, and another embedded among the hills to the westward; hills (on one of which he stands) of five hundred feet in height, with bold white heads of rock, surrounding these; and the magnificent Cordillera from the right and left overlooking the whole.