From what we see, there is no reason to expect so large an amount of silver to flow from South Peru as heretofore. The creole portion of the population shrink from all kinds of labor; they sit at the mouth of the mines to receive the silver, and live a life of ease upon it. To the poor Indian mining is an harassing labor. He seldom reveals to the creole any new discovery; he never seeks work at the mine, but turns to the cultivation of the soil in the congenial climate of the valleys; tends his flocks on the mountain-side, where he is better fed and clothed, and where his wild and honest feelings are gratified. The wool of sheep and silver are the chief exports from these departments. Besides Peruvian bark, copper, alpaca wool, vicuña skins, matico, gold, hides, and chinchilla skins, there were exported last year over five hundred thousand quintals of nitrate of soda from the seaport of Arica.
The mail from Puno to Callao goes by the English steamer from Yslay in eight days, leaving Puno every two weeks. The creole portion of the population is not very great, except in the army. There is a college of science and art here, like that of Cuzco. We found the boys practising the broad-sword exercise with single sticks.
In the larger towns the government has established public schools. In this department there are sixty-three for boys and three for girls. In these schools Indian children are admitted and taught as well as the creoles. There are few African slaves in South Peru.
The country is over populated; I mean for the productive portions of the land. There are many square miles in these departments barren and unproductive, unpopulated, and utterly worthless, so far as cultivation goes, though they may contain great mineral wealth. The inhabitants are confined to the valleys among the mountains, which are generally narrow, and crops are principally raised by irrigation. The Puna country is higher, and better adapted to wool growing, but very thinly peopled. There are many places so high above the level of the sea that people cannot live there with any sort of comfort, nor can they gather from the earth a living. The ant will die an unnatural death, placed where the llama naturally lives and flourishes. The llama, again, will perish with heat where the ant builds its nest. In the deep valleys are the most children, the greatest amount of vegetable life, and more of the animals known in different parts of the world, such as the horse, horned cattle, domestic cats, dogs, bees, and humming birds.
People have said that the population of these departments do not increase in proportion to the increase in northern portions of the world, and ask, why it is. People upon the Andes do not multiply if they do not seek the rich lands.
As we ride along the shores of Lake Titicaca, the Indians are seen sucking the juice from the lake rush; they also make salad of it. The cattle and horses wade up to their backs in mud and water after it. The sheep who seem, here in their native soil, glad to get a bite of something green, run down from the parched hills, and feed along shore. The hog, too, comes in for his share. The whole animal kingdom run to the lake for a living. It is a written invitation to navigation and cultivation. The mountainous parts of Peru are very dry.
November 15, 1853.—At 1 p. m., half the heavens are covered with cumulus clouds. Air, 56°; lake water, 64°. Thunder to the northward, and rain falling there; the east wind blows fresh. The beach is of gray sand, and in places muddy swamp. The rush grows along shore. Here and there the lake is shoal to the nearest island, about a mile off. The rush grows thick on these shoals, which gives them a meadow-like appearance.
The road lies along the foot of the hills, very near to the water. There are a few potatoes planted in the sand; the patches extend to the road, which is just at high-water mark in the wet season. The potato plant is the only water gauge available; wherever the ground allows, the Indian carries his row, far from the rocky base of the hills, towards the lake, and the height of the eastern edge of his potato patch, above the level of the lake, is one foot. The potatoes are just coming up, sometimes accompanied by beans. A pig's tail was seen sticking out, as he had rooted down after the seed. The potatoes are small, but good.
The blue-winged teal, black diver, white and black gulls, feed in the water. Large and small snipe skim along the beach before us; while the tall white crane, with beautiful pink wings, legs and tail, with a black bridged bill, proudly strolls through the water. Green rushes and different colored feathers present a refreshing contrast to the dry rocks and dusty hills. In the small gullies may be seen a scrubby bush, some dry tufts of grass, and by very close search we did succeed in adding two specimens of flowers to our small botanical collection, which we hoped to have reported.
The Indians are going to town to celebrate the birth-day of the President of the Republic; old men are mounted on stunted little horses; young ones carry drums, fifes, and large feathered head-dresses, of pink and white, plucked from the crane; while the old women carry babies slung in cotton ponchos over their shoulders. The young girls bring provisions; and donkeys loaded with live chickens, to be sold in the plaza, jog along ahead of the families. On the lake a rush balsa, with a rush mat for a sail, loaded with fish and potatoes, presses on to meet the load of the donkey. An old woman is at the helm, which is a long pole; the wind seems a little too fresh for her; as she broaches to, her sail lifts, she loses command, and has to pole out of the rushes. The land party laugh at her, but she pushes and works with a will, though the heaving and setting of the craft makes it rather wet work, she finally smoothly sails into port.