CHAPTER XXIX.Pichagas—The peak of Sahama—Chocos—Capture of a sheep for fresh meat—Ostriches—Sepulturas—Mortality amongst animals—Mule attacked with belly pains—El Cerro del Volcan—Las Siete Vueltas—Bright-coloured hills—Peru entered—Tacora—Mules attacked with soroche—El Rio de Azufre—Aqueduct to Tacna from river Maury—The Pass of Chulancani—Apacheta of bones—Aspect of the Pacific slope of the Andes—Projected railway between Tacna and La Paz—The Portada—El Ingenio—Palca—New road in construction—Arrival at Tacna—The hotel Bola de Oro—Tacna and its trade—Attempt to sell the mules in Tacna—Railway from Tacna to Arica—Effects of the great hurricane wave of 1869—Arica—By steamer from Arica to Callao—Callao—Its magnificent harbour—Lima—The cathedral—Plaza de Armas—Old bridge, built in 1608—Firemen—By steamer from Lima to Panamá—Payta—Panamá—Severe fires—The prison—Rail to Aspinwall—Aspinwall—Home by mail steamer.
Pichagas—The peak of Sahama—Chocos—Capture of a sheep for fresh meat—Ostriches—Sepulturas—Mortality amongst animals—Mule attacked with belly pains—El Cerro del Volcan—Las Siete Vueltas—Bright-coloured hills—Peru entered—Tacora—Mules attacked with soroche—El Rio de Azufre—Aqueduct to Tacna from river Maury—The Pass of Chulancani—Apacheta of bones—Aspect of the Pacific slope of the Andes—Projected railway between Tacna and La Paz—The Portada—El Ingenio—Palca—New road in construction—Arrival at Tacna—The hotel Bola de Oro—Tacna and its trade—Attempt to sell the mules in Tacna—Railway from Tacna to Arica—Effects of the great hurricane wave of 1869—Arica—By steamer from Arica to Callao—Callao—Its magnificent harbour—Lima—The cathedral—Plaza de Armas—Old bridge, built in 1608—Firemen—By steamer from Lima to Panamá—Payta—Panamá—Severe fires—The prison—Rail to Aspinwall—Aspinwall—Home by mail steamer.
The following day, January 14th, we called up the mozos about two o’clock in the morning, and by about five we had had our coffee, mules were saddled, packs all up, and a start made. The morning was fine and clear as usual, for the storms come on generally in the afternoon. The road out of the village is northward, and soon gets into a rather wide quebrada with a river, which we crossed and recrossed several times. A small plain, with good grass, plenty of water, a few ranchos, and the largest herd of alpacas that we had yet seen, is called Pichagas. A little distance from this, a short but sharp cuesta—in the ascent of which one of our packmules fell just on the edge of the precipice—takes up from the ravine to a rocky plateau, which I guessed to be about 800 feet higher than the plain of Curahuara. Arriving at the top of the cuesta, zigzagged out of the side of the ravine, a rocky plateau extends as far as the eye can reach. From thence the ravine looks like a great rent in the earth, the sides being so straight and evenly matched that it is evident some stupendous force of nature must have burst the solid rocks asunder, for the enormous rift cannot have been caused by the action of the small stream that runs in the bottom of the ravine, or “cañon,” as it would be called in the northern continent.
On the plateau, the rock is over hard, flat, rocky ground, until it approaches the foot of the noble peak of Sahama. This mountain is always snow-covered at its summit, which Hugo Reck gives as 6546 metres, or 21,470 feet above sea-level. Sahama is but sluggishly active, as nothing but a small amount of smoke has ever been observed to ascend from it. Its outline is exceedingly regular and graceful in form, and as it rises nearly 8000 feet above the plateau from which it springs, it affords a sight that for impressive grandeur is scarcely to be equalled elsewhere in nature. The almost equally beautiful peaks called Las Tetillas are also visible more to the northward, from this plain, and, together with Sahama, form a prospect which alone would repay a lover of mountain scenery for his journey across the Andes.
Hereabouts were many vicuñas, so tame that they allowed one to approach well within pistol-shot. These animals remind one of the deer in many of theparks and forests of our own country, their fawn-coloured backs and white bellies, long necks and slender legs completely carrying out the illusion. In the afternoon we had the usual storm of hail, thunder, and lightning, during which we arrived at Chocos, a solitary house and pulperiâ, well-provided with every necessary except fresh meat. Fortunately we had provided ourselves with this on the road, for, seeing a good flock of sheep, Marco caught one with his lasso, gaucho fashion. This seems to be the proper thing for travellers to doen voyageover the Andes, to help themselves when in want of fresh meat, for the owners of sheep or poultry, for instance, will never sell them willingly except in the market towns; but no sooner had we caught our mutton, than a woman, before invisible, appeared mysteriously from goodness knows where, probably from behind some large boulder, of which there were a vast number scattered over the plain. She did not appear much put out at our summary proceedings, and what little anger she did show was doubtless put on just for appearance’ sake, being easily pacified by the present of a couple of melgarejos, with short beards, which are the fashion in this part of the country. The sheep raised at such high altitudes are very small, smaller even than Welsh mutton; but the meat is sweet and makes a capital chupe, and a whole sheep for about 3s. cannot be dear whatever its size. Our prize was easily carried by Marco across the pommel of his saddle, and, arriving at Chocos, was soon killed, skinned, cut up, and cooked into a good supper for all hands, including our friends the joyeros, who joined us again, andshared our meal, which consisted of the inevitable chupe, a fry of chops, some bottled beer, and an excellent cup of chocolate; the total expense, with the charge for the room and the use of the corral for the animals, being just 10s.between us all. Barley was, however, very dear, being seven pesos, or about 22s., the quintal, and seems to be getting dearer and dearer every stage, until at last we almost expect to have to feed our mules with the money itself. During the night a hail-storm raged with great fury, but being under a good strong roof we did not mind it. Our mules must, however, have suffered greatly in their open corral, and it is astonishing how fresh they always turn out in the morning whatever may have been the weather during the night; indeed, it seems that, so long as they get plenty of fodder, rain, hail, snow, or frost have very little effect upon them.
Our next stage should have been from Chocos to Cosepilla, a run of twelve leagues; but on arriving at Sepulturas we heard that there was no barley to be had at Cosepilla, so we decided to remain the night at Sepulturas. The road travelled during the day had nothing particularly worthy of mention, nearly the whole of the distance being over pampa land, with only one cuesta of consequence which might easily have been avoided. During the day we passed several recuas of mules and donkeys, these having for some days past been very few in number. We also saw an ostrich (“avestruz”), the only one that we saw during the journey to Tacna. It was of dark grey colour and of fair size, and was within easy rifle-shot, but lolloped rapidly away. Further south the ostriches are more plentiful, butthere appear to be very few on the Bolivian Andes, whilst the “guanaco,” so numerous in Chili, Argentine, and Patagonia, does not seem to come so far north. Vicuña were in great numbers: in one herd, scarcely 200 yards away from the track, I counted twenty-six; others of ten and twelve were very frequent.
We arrived at Sepulturas about one o’clock in the afternoon, and gave the mules a good long rest, intending to make a long journey of about sixteen leagues (nearly fifty miles) on the morrow. The posada here is pretty fair, though not so good as the one at Chocos. A regular tariff of prices for chupes, etc., is posted up, but bears the comforting announcement that the good things offered to the traveller will be “proporcionado con el mayor gusto cuando posible,” or “supplied with the greatest pleasure when possible;” the two last saving words being doubtless intended to cover a multitude of deficiencies, and to lead up to the old posada answer of “No hay, señor.”
Next morning we rose soon after midnight, but my mozo was suffering from a slight attack of ague, so we were delayed until nearly five o’clock before we could get on the road. The air was fine and frosty, and freshened us up famously. Before leaving this place we note why it bears the unpleasant and very suggestive name of Sepulturas, or “the Tombs.” For some reason, at present unexplained, it seems to be peculiarly fatal to animals, and has become a perfect charnel-field. The number of dead mules and donkeys, together with the whitened bones of former corpses, scattered over the plain was somethingextraordinary, giving such a melancholy look to the place that it seems strange indeed that travellers should make it a halting-place; and how any one could be found to live there, and keep up the posada, was one of those things that pass an ordinary person’s comprehension. Probably this excessive mortality is caused by the “soroche,” or “mountain sickness,” which is doubtless strongest in its effects at this point of the journey over the Andes. Some people blame the water of the locality more than the altitude, but I did not hear that the human travellers passing through or the inhabitants of the posada suffered equally with animals, as would have been the case if the drinking water had been poisonous. However, be the cause what it may, I should advise any wanderer over the route from Oruro to Tacna, orvice versâ, to arrange if possible not to break his journey at Sepulturas, the mere sight of the place being enough to give him very melancholy recollections, and had it not been for the report we heard of the lack of fodder for the animals at Cosepillas, we should have ridden on there instead of passing the night in the “Tombs.”
Fortunately for us, none of our animals showed signs of sickness before leaving, but we had not been long on the road when one of the baggage mules was attacked with belly pains, and stood still, groaning and shaking violently. I was in great fear for her, as she was the weakest of the batch; but our gaucho Marco was equal to the occasion, and had the packs off her in a moment, whilst he covered her loins with a rug, and fomented her belly with urine—a treatment that recovered her quickly and completely.
Four leagues from Sepulturas is Cosepilla, a large and well-built tambo, to which we ought to have come last night, as, notwithstanding what was told us at Sepulturas, there was barley to be had, but at ten pesos per quintal. From this place a very high peak, which we were told was named El Cerro del Volcan, was a very beautiful sight, being entirely snow-covered, and of almost equal beauty with the volcano of Sajáma. There were no signs of eruption, which is said to take place only in the dry season. The road all day was good, though very stony, with only a couple of cuestas, one of which, called “Las Siete Vueltas,” or “The Seven Turns,” is a noticeable feature of the journey. The pampas are traversed by numerous small streams that bring down beautiful clear iced water from the snow-covered peaks, some of which display on their steep sides, where the snow cannot lie, a variety of colours that give a most peculiar appearance to the landscape.
The best description that I can give of this, is that the hills look as though they had been draped with immense striped blankets; the bands of colour, which are disposed vertically, consisting of bright red, yellow, and slatey blue. The vertical position of these stripes does not answer to the inclination of the strata, which is probably similar to the peculiar rocky formation noticed near El Cruzero, the different coloured earths lying one upon the other. Some convulsion of nature, or the wearing away of time, has cut through the strata in an angular direction; and at the point where each one of the strata comes to the surface, the detritus orbroken earth has fallen straight down the hill-side, thus giving the appearance to which I have alluded.
We arrived at Tacora, our next halting-place, about five o’clock, having travelled for twelve hours without any stoppages, and having crossed the frontier and entered on Peruvian territory. Here there is a very fair tambo with the usual supply of un-eatables. No barley to be had for the animals, but dried “alfa” was obtainable at eight and a half pesos the quintal, equal to about £29 per ton—a stiffish price for “dried lucerne.”
PASS OF TACORA.
PASS OF TACORA.
PASS OF TACORA.
The following day, Sunday, January 17th, we left the post-house of Tacora about 7.30 a.m., the morning being frosty and cold, as is usual on these elevated table-lands. The first league travelled was over a pampa, terminated by a cuesta particularly dreaded for the soroche; and certainly the numberof carcases and skeletons of mules and donkeys on either side of the path was truly appalling. I felt something unusual myself, and notwithstanding that it is said to be dangerous to take liquor when suffering from this sickness, I took a little brandy and bitters, and, attacking the contents of my saddle-bags, ate my breakfast of hard-boiled eggs and biscuits, soon feeling considerably better. The mules also showed, by lagging behind, some symptoms of this dreaded soroche; but our mozos took some cloves of garlic from their “alforjas,” and, bruising them, rubbed them into the animal’s nostrils. To the one most affected they squirted “aguadiente” into his ears, with which treatment the animals appeared to revive; but we got on slowly, the boys telling us that it would not do to urge the mules beyond a walking pace.
Passing the cuesta and arriving again on flat lands, we crossed a river called El Rio de Azufre, the water of which has a most unpleasant taste and smell, the latter reminding one of the odour exhaled by rotting seaweed. The banks of this stream were encrusted with a yellow deposit, whilst the bed also was covered with a bright yellow slime. This stream is the last that runs eastward, and soon after crossing it the track comes to the highest point over which the road to Tacna passes. Before descending, one notices to the northward, deeply indented on the side of the peak of Tacora, the aqueduct which conveys the water of the river Maury, an affluent of the Desaguadero, to the town of Tacna. This pass, which is called Chulancani, is surmounted by a huge cairn, or “apacheta,”composed principally of the bones of the mules and donkeys that have fallen victims to the soroche. To this heap every passing arriero adds either a stone or a whitened bone, picked up from the way-side, and devoutedly crossing himself, prays to the Holy Virgin or to his patron saint for a safe passage to his home. Close by the cairn, which stands probably at an elevation of rather more than 15,000 feet above sea-level, grows a rough and gnarled tree of the kind called “kenña” in the district, and forming a remarkable feature of the route.
After crossing the summit of the pass the descent to the Pacific coast is commenced, and the steep nature of the western slope of the Andes becomes conspicuous at once. Indeed the whole aspect of the country changes, for there are no more pampas or table-lands in sight, and no grass or other signs of vegetation. Owing to the almost total absence of rainfall, nothing green or growing is to be seen on the western slopes of the Andes, except in the bottom of the ravines, where, by skill and hard labour, some industrious “ranchero” has been able to effect a little irrigation. Owing to the broken and ravined character of the hill-side but a short view is to be obtained, from which one would almost be inclined to fancy that the mountains had split asunder; the part towards the Pacific having, as it sank down, broken up into inextricable confusion, whilst the bulk, remaining unshaken towards the interior of the continent, preserved its original formation of valley, plain, and hill.
But notwithstanding the rough nature of thedescent to the Pacific, engineers bold enough to project a railway down it have been found, and we observed several bench marks indicating the course of the once-intended line from Tacna to La Paz. The obstacles to be overcome between Tacna and the summit pass, will, in my opinion, render this undertaking most difficult, if not impossible; but once the Cuesta of Tacora is passed, and the pampas entered on, the line would be comparatively easy, although, if the La Paz road is like the Oruro one, there would be some difficult cuestas to descend before gaining the lower plateau of the Desaguadero.
LA PORTADA.
LA PORTADA.
LA PORTADA.
About five leagues from the Tacora post-house the track follows a very steep and stony descent tothe Portada, where there is a mining establishment belonging to Messrs. Blondell of Oruro and Tacna. The mines were not being worked, but one could not but notice the neat look of the buildings, which were mostly roofed with corrugated zinc, as also were the “pulperias” adjoining, of which there are four very good-looking concerns with well-stored shops and good rooms for travellers; but I wondered how so many of them could find a living for their proprietors. Alfa at eight pesos the quintal was to be had, but no “cebada,” and on this side of the Andes, alfa, or “lucerne,” dried or fresh, with an occasional feed of American oats, seems to be the principal fodder for the animals.
Entering another ravine, called Angostura, which forms the direct descent to Tacna, and is a very stony and bad road, descending probably one foot in every yard or thereabouts, we passed several pulperias or ranchos where the numerous arrieros stop. One of these, sometimes recommended to travellers, and called El Ingenio, must be avoided, as it is in ruins. We had arranged to close the day’s journey at Palca, where we arrived about 4 p.m., and found very fair lodgings, chupes and coffee, whilst alfa, now descending in price, was to be had at six pesos the quintal. At this posada we met a French Abbé who was going to Bolivia with intent to earn a livelihood as a professor of French, either in La Paz or Sucre, and as I could converse with him a little in his own language, we passed a pleasant evening, and he continued his solitary journey about two in the morning. He had only one mozo with him, and as he could barely make himself understood inSpanish, he must have had rather a bad time on the road. He seemed to have no idea of the hardships before him, but as I was very near the conclusion of my journey, and he was just commencing his, I was glad to be able to fit him up with sundry rugs, and a waterproof sheet, of which he would stand in great need during the afternoon storms off the higher Andes.
ANGOSTURA.
ANGOSTURA.
ANGOSTURA.
Leaving Palca at half-past seven, we rode down the quebrada at a slow pace, on account of the very rough and stony nature of the ground and the tired state of some of the mules, which were evidently beginning to feel the effects of the long journey. The bottom of the ravine, from Palca down to the plains of Tacna, is generally well cultivated, producing alfa and maize (“mais”) in good quantity,by dint of much irrigation from the small stream which flows down the ravine, aided by the water brought over the summit from the river Maury. About three leagues distant from Palca, we got on to the finished part of the new road, which was then in course of construction from Tacna towards Bolivia. Some hundreds of men were at work, and their rough encampments on either side of the ravine gave it quite a busy look. The road was being very well made, and was, I understood, being worked as nearly as possible to the lines laid down by the railway engineers; so that if at any time the railway scheme becomes financially practicable, the road will be partly available for the railway cuttings and embankments. But even if the more ambitious enterprise should never be attempted, the new road will be a great improvement on the old track, and proves that Peru is straining every nerve to keep her monopoly of Bolivian trade.
About two in the afternoon we rode out of the hills, and entered on the plains on which the town of Tacna and its environs stand. Passing through Pachia, the principal suburb, the gardens of which are all wonderfully cultivated considering the fearfully dry nature of the soil and the distance from which water has to be brought, we arrived at the city about 4 p.m., very dusty and tired, and put up at the hotel “Bola de Oro,” or “Golden Ball,” a very fair establishment, and decidedly the best that I had met with in all my journey from the Atlantic to the Pacific, for even the town of Pará, Brazil’s principal city on the Amazon, cannot boast so good an hotel as the Bola de Oro of Tacna.
From the material of which the houses are composed, the town and its environs have a strange and somewhat dull and heavy appearance, notwithstanding that the houses are mostly built as lightly as possible, in order the better to withstand the frequently occurring earthquakes. The walls are generally lath, plastered over with mud, or adobes, one brick in thickness; and the roofs are also of mud, tempered so well that even the intense heat of the sun does not cause it to crack. These roofs are made in a very peculiar shape, and generally the houses have quite the appearance of toy houses; but at night, when the windows are opened and the interiors well lit up, they look very cheerful and lively. The streets are broad and kept very clean, with gaslights in the principal ones. The plazas are neat, though small, and there is a prettily arranged garden with an elegant cast-iron fountain in the principal square, where the “society” of Tacna meet in the cool of the evening to enjoy a promenade, enlivened by the strains of a military band.
The commerce of Tacna is undoubtedly of very important character; but one sees at a glance that the onlyraison d’êtreof the city is its being situated on the one exit practicable at present for Bolivia to the Pacific coast. There are no Peruvian towns in communication with Tacna. The long lines of donkeys and mules seen continually entering or leaving the town, are all either destined for, or coming from, the neighbouring republic of Bolivia, and the few merchants with whom I conversed seemed to have the idea that the realization of theMadeira and Mamoré Railway would materially affect their trade.
After having rested a night in a bed that was a real luxury after our long ride and rough quarters, and having had a look round the town, we arranged that we would leave for Arica in time to catch the first steamer for Callao, leaving on the 23rd of the month. We then presented our letters of introduction, one that I had to a German merchant being very serviceable, for, like all Germans with whom it has been my good fortune to meet abroad, this gentleman was exceedingly kind and disposed to serve one in any way possible. The streets of Tacna are well supplied with shops and stores of every kind. Drapers, hatters, shoemakers, and others all make a great display of their wares, which, like most of theirconfrèresin our European towns, they are always selling at a great sacrifice. The latest French fashions soon make their appearance in Tacna, and “La Bella Boliviana,” the “Bon Marché,” and other establishments, have always a good display of the most tempting materials of dress, which they sell at reasonable prices, considering the long route they have had to be brought over, either by Panamá or the Straits of Magellan.
As there is nothing in the neighbourhood of Tacna worthy a visit, the four days I had to wait would have hung very heavily on my hands had it not been for the occupation I found in trying to sell my mules, which, having landed me safely as far as they could take me, were now of no further service. But buyers, thinking that I must sell at any price on account of my leaving for Europe, thought it, asusual, one of their many opportunities for making a good bargain out of travellers from the interior, and would not offer anything like reasonable prices. Thus, for five mules, costing nearly 1100 pesos, of which four were in excellent condition considering the long journey and hard work they had gone through, the best offer I could get was 600 pesos, or little more than half the cost; and I was advised by my merchant friends of the place that this offer was not a very low one, and probably only made because of the very excellent character of two machos, these being so strong and sound as to be valuable as “pianeras,” or pianoforte carriers. I offered to sell the lot for 1000 pesos, and to give in with the bargain my travelling cot, a revolver, a couple of excellent “tapa cargas,” and all the “aparejos,” or pack saddles and gear. These sundries would all be very useful to intending travellers, and were well worth at least another 100 pesos. However, I could not find a buyer at my price, and therefore determined to sell the mule that was in worst condition, and send the others back to Bolivia for sale there, as our two mozos had to return, and would require at least three animals for their journey. Sometimes it happens that travellers bringing servants down from Bolivia are lucky enough to meet others returning, who will engage the mozos, and thus save the first hirer further expense; but the revolution going on had stopped all business between Tacna and the interior. The result of the course adopted was, that instead of losing about 500 or 600 pesos (nearly £100), I only lost about 100, or £15, which was the cost of fodderfor the animals and rations to the mozos on their return journey to Sucre. True, I ran the risk of losing the animals altogether in the revolution that was then going on; but fortune favoured me, and they got back to Sucre safely, as I had calculated that they would; for I knew the boys would naturally be very averse to being pressed into the service of either the government or the revolutionists, and would give both parties a wide berth should they come across either of them on their way back. There is no doubt that the best and only way to avoid loss in realizing the cost of the animals necessary for crossing the Andes, is to buy the best class of mules, and, if the journey ends at Tacna, send them back to Bolivia, where they are always worth their cost; and one can generally manage to draw the value of the mules returning, from one of the mercantile houses of Tacna, less a small commission for selling the mules in Bolivia.
We left Tacna, on the morning of the 23rd, by the ten o’clock train, arriving at Arica about mid-day, the distance being about forty miles, and the fare three pesos for first class, and four reales for each package of luggage. The line runs over a sandy plain like that on which Tacna is situated. At times a small cutting had been made; but there were none more than some six to eight feet deep, and very few banks, and only two or three bridges. The rail used is a flat-footed one, of perhaps sixty-five pounds per yard, and the road is very well maintained, being well ballasted and boxed up. Nearing Arica the road runs close along by the sea, and we saw several remains of the effects of the great hurricane wave of1869. The hull of a steamer of perhaps 600 or 800 tons, was quite a quarter of a mile inshore, where it had been deposited by the retiring wave; and there was a great deal of damaged and now valueless machinery scattered along the line of railway and sea-coast.
The Peruvian coast offers very little facility to shipping, and most of its ports, except Callao, are scarcely more than open roadsteads. Arica has been built at a small bay which has a few rocky islands to defend it from the south winds. The town, never very large, is now much reduced in size, the greater part of the inhabitants living in huts built up of tarpaulins, boards, etc., placed well up the side of the hill, apparently to be out of the way of another earthquake wave. The custom-house has been rebuilt with brick walls and zinc roof; a small church also has zinc roofing—an article which enters largely into the composition of all the houses, and gives the place a very temporary and make-shift look. There is a neat pier, erected on six-inch wrought-iron piles, which enables passengers to embark clear of the surf. The steamshipLimabeing in port, we took tickets at the mail-agent’s office, paying 353 soles each for passage to Southampton, and thirty soles each fare over the Panamá Railway, and at once went on board, leaving Arica about five in the afternoon. TheLimais a very long and narrow screw boat, with state cabins on deck, and she rolled considerably from having her main decks crowded with bullocks, and her upper deck littered up with merchandize of all sorts. Indeed, her upper deck was in the utmost confusion, caused by a peculiar practice which existson nearly all the Pacific Steam Navigation Company’s boats. This is, that dealers in all kinds of provisions are allowed to take passages principally between Valparaiso and Callao, and exhibit their wares on the deck, so that the ship is completely cumbered with their goods, and the crew have little chance of managing the ship properly. The practice may remunerate the company, as each dealer pays according to the space of the deck that he occupies, but passengers are greatly inconvenienced and endangered thereby.
The next day, Sunday, we passed Islay, Mollendo, the shipping port for the railway to Arequipa and Puno, and Quilpa, stopping only to land and receive passengers. On Monday we spent the greater part of the day at Lomas, shipping sugar, rum, and bullocks. This place consists of about half a dozen huts only, and the coast is as arid and wretched-looking as the whole line of the Pacific coast really is. It is said, however, that there is good cultivable land, with haciendas for sugar and pôtreros, or grazing grounds for cattle, a few leagues inland. The Tuesday was passed principally at Pisco, a dull and miserable-looking place, worthy of note only for its capital aguadiente, or white rum, said to be made from grapes, but probably made from sugar-cane. It is, however, a very pure spirit, and an opportunity of tasting it genuine should not be neglected. A great many Chinese are settled at Pisco, and there is a railway to the town of Yca, about fifty miles southward. During the run up from Arica, every morning had been foggy, necessitating a very slow rate of speed, and a continual sounding of the fog-horn,and on Wednesday morning, the 27th, we anchored in Callao Bay, about seven o’clock in the morning.
Callao Bay is a remarkably fine piece of water, of large extent, and so well defended from all winds, that the water is always like a mill-pond. It has, however, like all the other ports of the Pacific coast, suffered from earthquake waves, though in a far less degree than many others. Much shipping, two monitors, and other Peruvian men-of-war were in harbour, also two other men-of-war, one English and one American, and the whole scene betokened the near presence of a large city. We dressed hastily to go on shore to the office of the Pacific Steam Navigation Company, in order to secure a good berth on the steamer which we had to change to for Panamá, theLima, etc., being on the berth between Callao and Valparaiso, while theOroyaand others run the Callao and Panamá trip. Finding the office did not open until ten o’clock, we remained on shore to breakfast at a very good restaurant in the Hotel de Comercio, near the “Plaza Principal.” This necessary duty duly performed to our high satisfaction, both as regards quality and price, we chose our berths at the office, and returned to theLimato shift our baggage to theOroya, a fine paddle steamer, whose captain, a worthy old American, who had been at sea for more than fifty years, kept her in better order than, perhaps, any other mail steamer that floats. Everything in the shape of paint, brass, and plain wood, was most delightfully clean and well scoured, whilst the cabins were a real treat to see. Certainly the contrast from the confused decks of theLimato the order and neatness of theOroyawas very striking. Returning on shore again, we passed the floating dock, in which was the steamshipPayta, also of the Pacific Steam Navigation Company’s fleet, and which had a short while previously been run on a rock at the port of Santa, near Truxillo. The government foundries, with several private establishments of a similar nature, also attract attention; and, indeed, the whole aspect of the bay showed that a large amount of work was going on. Callao itself is like most other Peruvian towns, not at all striking, the houses having the same toylike and temporary look that one notices on arriving at Tacna.
There being nothing to detain us in Callao, and theOroyanot leaving until the following day, we determined to pay Lima a visit, and taking tickets at four reales each, a twenty minutes’ ride brought us to the capital of Peru. It is situated at the foot of the hills which, all along the Peruvian coast, run sometimes close to the sea, and at others recede somewhat inland, leaving a sandy plain from their slopes seawards. On one of these plains Lima is built. Entering the city, the European-like look of the shops is the first thing that claims attention; and were it not for the flat roofs, and the unfinished look of the houses, the tops of which are not even graced with a cornice, one might easily imagine one’s self to be in a large European town. We put up at the Hotel Maury, thetable d’hôtedinner at which did not come up to that given at the Golden Ball of Tacna.
Of churches there are many, the principal ones being, the famous Cathedral in the Plaza, with itstwo towers, where the Brothers Gutierrez were hung by the townspeople after their brutal murder of President Balta; and the church of Panamá, with a wonderful façade of images, curved pillars, etc. The Plaza de Armas, is pretty though small. Here the military bands play every evening; and as chairs can be hired, the time passes away pleasantly. Over a river that flows through Lima is a very old bridge, solidly and well built, and bearing an inscription with the date of 1608, “regnante Felipo III.” The alaméda close by is very little cared for, and appeared to be falling into ruins, the society of Lima apparently caring more for a stroll along the well-paved Calle de Comercio, than for public gardens. In the evening an alarm of fire brought out three companies of “bombarderos,” a sort of volunteer fire brigade. They looked very gallant and gay in their well-appointed uniforms, which did not appear to have seen much service. The hat they wore was of curious shape, made of black shining material, and in form a cross between a very large solah topee and a coalheaver’s bonnet; it did not seem so suitable as the helmet our own firemen wear, but the corps being a volunteer one, probably something must be sacrificed to effect. I noticed some of them return to their rooms in the hotel after the alarm had subsided. They were evidently men of good position in society, and went to their work with kid gloves on; but possibly, as the alarm was a false one, they did not require to take them off. I should think that a bad fire in Lima would be a most serious matter, for the houses are of a flimsy nature, and have a great deal of wood in their composition.
The next day, the 28th of January, we left Lima at 8 a.m., and had an hour or so in Callao to get a few newspapers and books for use on the voyage to Panamá. TheOroyastarted about mid-day, but once outside the harbour we got into a thick fog, which is said to hang about these coasts at this time of the year. This fog accompanied us all the day, and the early part of the next, when we passed H.M.S.Repulse, flying Admiral Cochrane’s flag, and on the 30th we arrived at Payta at mid-day. This is a small town in the usual Peruvian tumble-down style, and not worth landing to see. We had to take in some sugar as cargo, and were detained till evening. The next three days passed without anything worthy of note, save, perhaps, that though the weather was fine, the ocean was anything but “Pacific,” the breezes being strong from the north and west.
On the 3rd of February, the seventh day out from Callao, we arrived off Panamá about mid-day. The approach is exceedingly pretty, as the steamer passes several islands clothed with bush to the water’s edge, and forming a pleasant contrast to the arid coasts of Peru. On one of these islands, Taboga, the Pacific Steam Navigation Company have a station and pier, and there is a good-sized village with fields of maize and plantains, looking fresh and green. The ocean steamers stop at an island about a mile and a half from the town, and from thence a smaller steamer conveys passengers, mails, and specie up to Panamá. From this island the town looks pretty, but on arriving one sees that it is old and somewhat dirty. The wharves are large, buthave been patched up and enlarged from time to time.
Two severe fires, that occurred in the city within eighteen months, had destroyed many large houses; the central hotel and adjoining buildings in the plaza being in ruins. The insurance companies, Imperial and Sun, of London, lost large sums of money; the agent in Panamá, a Monsieur de Roux, telling me he had sent in claims for more than a million dollars, and now the companies wisely decline any further risks. The cathedral is a plain old-fashioned edifice, the towers of which are spotted with pearl-oyster shells, probably to put one in mind of the pest of small-pox, which is at times very bad in the town, although on the whole it seems to have a very fair climate, and not to deserve the bad reputation that is universally attributed to it. The Grand Central Hotel, at which we stayed, is well managed, and the prices charged are reasonable. Before leaving Panamá we paid a visit to the prison, where the criminals are kept in large rooms, having barred windows opening to the ground, through which the prisoners are allowed to converse freely with all comers. They may also divert themselves with the manufacture of small curiosities, the best being engraved cocoa-nuts and gourds, on which they carve very pretty designs, and for which they ask about a dollar apiece.
The royal mail steamerTasmanianbeing announced to leave Aspinwall at 5 p.m. on the 5th, we decided to go there by the early morning train, leaving Panamá at 7 a.m. in order to have a few hours to look round the town of Aspinwall, or Colon,as it is called in the country. The transit by railway across the Isthmus of Panamá is so well known by travellers that very little description is now needed. The notorious incivility of the employés and the discomfort of the carriages, coupled with the exorbitant tariff of £6 for about fifty miles distance, render this part of the journey so unpleasant in every way that no one would use this railway were there any other means available of passing the Isthmus; but as the Panamá Railway Company have at present a monopoly of the inter-oceanic traffic, they probably think that civility and reasonable treatment of passengers is quite an unnecessary item of management, their trade not being likely to be driven away until they have had a lifetime of their profits.
The country on the Pacific side of the hills that run through the Isthmus, and on the upper parts of the Chagres River which flows into the Atlantic, is pretty enough, there being several small villages through which the line passes, at each of which the clearings made in the bush show the usual luxuriant tropical growth of maize, plantains, and other products; but the flat country nearer Aspinwall is one vast swamp. The completion of the line through this is one of the most notable feats of engineering, and the passage over it recalls vividly to the mind the dismal story of the numerous deaths that occurred during the construction, the number being so great that it is said, the laying of each sleeper cost a life. Aspinwall is also built amongst the swamps, and were it not that the miasma rising round the town is blown inland by the fresh seabreezes, it would certainly be a most unhealthy place.
The city is small and uninteresting, and the less one stays in it the better. We found theTasmanianin the agonies of coaling, and who shall describe the grim state of dust and dirt that afflicts mail steamers when this unfortunately necessary operation is being carried on. Although all doors and windows between the saloons and the hold are carefully closed, the dust permeates everywhere; whilst the noises, foul odours, and still fouler language, that rise from the crowd of negroes following one another in quick succession up and down the planks leading from the vessel to the shore, are so unbearable, that to remain on deck is absolutely impossible; a stroll even along the hot and uninteresting streets of Aspinwall therefore becomes preferable to going on board before the hour of departure. The longest day has, however, its ending, and what with buying a few shells and other simple curiosities in the market-place, inspecting the statue of Columbus, and breakfasting at one of the very second-rate restaurants, we managed to pass away the time until the coaling of theTasmanianwas completed, and the bell rang to warn passengers to go on board.
The voyage home from Aspinwall commenced on the evening of the 5th; on the 10th we were at Jamaica, on the 14th at St. Thomas’, and on the 1st of March I landed at Plymouth, well pleased to be home again in Old England after so long and varied a journey by river, land, and sea.