Exploration of the Valley of the Amazon, Part 2 (of 2)

by William Lewis Herndon; Lardner Gibbon

Sketched by L. Gibbon.

Lith. of P.S. Duval & Co. Phil.

VIEW TO THE EAST OF JUAJA, Peru.

The road crosses a number of dry beds, streams of considerable size in the rainy season. There is only water enough, at present, for the washwomen, whose soap-suds spoil the water for our beasts. We pass through the village of San Lorenzo, and the small town of Concepcion. A death-like silence pervades these places; the people are in the fields, except some creoles, seated among the flowers in their neat little court-yards. The streets are narrow and the houses small. All the towns of the Puna are built pretty much after the same fashion, and of the same material; the only difference in their outward appearance being produced by the cultivation of foliage and flowers, where the soil and climate permit. When this is not the case, the town presents a stupid, uninteresting aspect. Children, dogs, and pigs, earthen pots, and beds of straw, surround a smoking fire on the ground floor of a one-roomed house. The smoke escapes through the door-way; the only opening for light or a change of air. During storms, or at night, the door is closed. One peep inside satisfies the North American he can find no rest there. But here, in the valley, the cooking is done under the trees, and the inmates of the house wander out in the shade. We have often noticed expressions of friendship between children and dogs; the latter shows his pleasure by wagging its tail, while the smiling child pulls his ears. The pig is the most restless creature at this height. While by himself, he is seen tossing up the bottom of the valley; when he sees the child and dog together, he gives a corkscrew motion to his tail, jumps and swings his body about with an inviting grunt to play. Before long he is laying on his side, with the child on top of him, while the dog is pawing and snapping at that laughable twist of the tail. The affection the different species of animals have, in these associations, is remarkable. The dog in any other place will sometimes kill and eat the sheep; here, he protects it by night and by day. The pig forms an attachment to the jackass, who leaves it, at this season of the year, for the female of its own kind. The ram becomes intimate with a horse or a bull, and it is with difficulty they can be separated. The lamb follows the Indian girl in direct disobedience of its mother's call. Domestic cats are few. They cannot live on high elevations.

There is no part of Peru which is more densely populated than the valley of Juaja. There, close under the mountains, on the east side, stands the town of Ocopa, with its convents and schools. From that place, missionaries have branched off in different directions to the forests in the east, at great risk of life and loss of all its comforts, to teach the savage red man how to change his manners, customs, and belief. Some have succeeded, others have failed, and were murdered or driven back by the battle-axe; their settlements destroyed by fire, and years of labor lost; yet some never tire!

Ignacio carries our tent pole across the pommel of his saddle. His thirsty mule ran between two others, loaded with baggage. The boy was swept off and dropped over the creature's heels in the middle of the stream. He regained his saddle in a short time. His father laughed at him, and took the pole himself.

In the centre of the valley are the remains of an ancient city; the ruins of stone walls were 12 feet high, and from 1 to 1½ foot thick. Those of the present day are generally adobe, from 3 to 4 feet thick. Some of the buildings have been round; others oblong, but generally square, 12 by 18 feet. The round ones are largest and best situated. The streets very irregular and narrow; no appearance of plaza, or church. The ruins extend half a mile north and south, and 200 yards east and west, on a knoll, which may have been an island before the Inca road was built, now hedged in on both sides with cactus. As the land about this ancient city is now cultivated as a corn-field, no remains of curious things could be found. The mason-work is very rough, but remains of mortar are there. How the houses were roofed is doubtful, but by the slanting down on the inner sides of the stones of those houses which were round, the mason work may have been carried up till it met at a point, which would give the house a sugar-loaf shape. Besides doorways, there were window openings.

Droves of jackasses pass, loaded with small raw-hide bags filled with quicksilver from the mines of Huancavelica, on their way to the silver mines of Cerro de Pasco.

On Saturday evening, July 12, 1851, we encamped on the south side of the town of Huancayo, and remained till Monday morning, giving the party their usual day of rest. Upon entering this town we saw the first signs of improvement in the construction of a stone bridge; the mason work compares well with that of more flourishing places. The men and cows of this place are larger than any we have seen. The people are very polite. The Indians oblige us with all we require, and seem interested in our industry. José asks permission to go to church, and for money to buy shoes. The singing of frogs reminds us of home. Some of the trees are much larger than those hitherto passed.