Iscuchaca is pleasantly situated amidst wild mountains, which seem to lock it up. The Juaja winds its way towards the Atlantic, while we climb a steep towards the Pacific.
The water of a rapid stream is somewhat salt, and its temperature 50°, while the air was 65°. Many fine mules are dashing down the narrow road. The drover tells me he is from Iça, bound to the Cerro Pasco mines, where he trades mules for silver. Iça is situated inland from Pisco, on the coast.
Among the mountains, at the top of a dangerous and precipitate pass, there is a wooden cross, erected by the people in the neighborhood. Travellers universally take off their hats as they pass, praying for a safe passage, or feeling thankful for one. The women often decorate these emblems with wreaths of flowers, cross themselves devoutly, and pass on. José begged me to hang the mountain barometer to one arm of the cross. While I took the reading of it, he looked on in great admiration.
The small Indian town of Guando is the first we have seen built of stone. It is situated high up on the mountains, and presents a most dilapidated appearance. On one side of a narrow street, little school boys were seated, saying their lessons to the teachers, who were on the opposite side. As we passed between them, the boys all rose and bowed politely. Among the inhabitants were an unusual number of elderly women. The temptation was great to ask their ages; but as some dislike questions of that sort, I might make an enemy without getting a fact. An Indian hut in the valley sketches the inhabitants. José appears between the man and his wife, telling them, in the Quichua language, that I live far off to the north, and want to show the people there what kind of people are here. The old Indian chews an extra quantity of coca leaf. The woman looks astonished, and the child is disgusted, though all stand still as they are told. The man was employed threshing barley with a long pole. The woman was cooking, and the child playing with the dog, when we arrived. The nights are very cold, the days warm and pleasant. To a church and few houses near the road has been given the name of Acobambilla. The Indians around answer the bells to prayers.
By Lieut. L. Gibbon U. S. N.
Lith. of P.S. Duval & Co. Phil.
QUICHUA INDIAN FAMILY AND HUT, Peru.
We ascend the top of the mountain and see perpetual snow in all directions, overhung with heavy, black, cumulus clouds, above which the cirrus shoot upwards; in the zenith the sky is clear and of the deepest blue. Spring water 44°; air 45°.