CHAPTER XXVIII.Oruro—Mineral districts and mining operations—“Barilla”—Freighting ore by llamas—Future of mining in Oruro—Attempted revolution in Oruro—Night attack on the Quartel—Start from Oruro for Tacna—The river Desaguadero—The ferry called La Barca—Llollia—Escape of the mules during night—Indian cooking arrangements—Dress and appearance of Indian men and women—El Cruzero—“Quinoa”—Heavy storms—Electrified state of the atmosphere—Peculiar strata observed near El Cruzero—Curahuara de Carangas—Its church, people, and parish priest—Travelling jewellers—Mining prospects of the district.
Oruro—Mineral districts and mining operations—“Barilla”—Freighting ore by llamas—Future of mining in Oruro—Attempted revolution in Oruro—Night attack on the Quartel—Start from Oruro for Tacna—The river Desaguadero—The ferry called La Barca—Llollia—Escape of the mules during night—Indian cooking arrangements—Dress and appearance of Indian men and women—El Cruzero—“Quinoa”—Heavy storms—Electrified state of the atmosphere—Peculiar strata observed near El Cruzero—Curahuara de Carangas—Its church, people, and parish priest—Travelling jewellers—Mining prospects of the district.
Oruro, situated 12,530 feet above sea-level, is a dreary-looking town, containing about 8000 inhabitants. The plain on which it stands is entirely destitute of any kind of vegetation, and the hilly district not far from the town is especially famous for its mines of tin, copper, and silver. So numerous are the veins of ore that it may almost be said that a blind man striking with a pick at the hill-side would be sure to find mineral of some kind or other, and the “Cornish divining rod” would be of but little use here, as it would be attracted in so many directions at the same time that its miraculous powers would probably be quite useless. The richest veins are, however, those only that pay for working at present, on account of the great distance that has to be traversed between Oruro and any seaport. Most of the mercantile houses engaged in Boliviantrade have agencies in the town, and there are several Englishmen and Americans engaged in mining, with as good results as can be expected in the absence of other means of transport for the ore than llamas and donkeys.
I visited several of the mines, but a description of any one will give an idea of the work carried on at them. One of the English miners, a Mr. Penny, who had been resident in Bolivia for more than twenty-five years, invited me to his property of San José Chica, a flourishing mine about a mile from Oruro. The two working shafts, connected by galleries and with numerous headings were worked by the old Spaniards, but some difficulty is now met with from the influx of water, which cannot be kept under with the limited pumping-power available, until steam machinery can be imported into the district. Apart from this drawback, the mine appeared to be in fair working order, the lode yielding silver and tin ore of various values, percentages of from six to sixty per cent. being named. The mineral, as it came up to the top of the shafts, seemed to me to require only a little picking over, in order to free it from the rocky stuff adhering to the ore; but the practice is to select the best-looking lumps only, the remainder, which would doubtless pay well if passed through proper crushing-machinery and then reduced by smelting, being run away to spoil as valueless. The Indians soon get very expert in the work of picking out the best ore, and the selected mass is broken up by hand into small chips, washed in order to get rid of as much of the earthy impurities as possible, and packed into small bags of 50 lbs. each.
Many of the ores, when thus dressed, yield sixty to seventy per cent. of tin, and the mineral is known in the English markets as “barilla,” being shipped per steamer from Arica in the same condition as it is sent from the mine, the small bags stowing capitally between larger cargo. The freight paid for carriage of this ore from Oruro to Tacna by llamas, the cheapest mode of transport that exists at present on that route, is from two to three pesos per quintal, say from £7 5s.to £10 15s.per ton of 2240 lbs., the distance being said to be from eighty to a hundred leagues. This would give an average rate of about 8d.per ton per mile, and as each ton carried requires twenty-two llamas, it follows that each llama earns about one-third of a penny per mile for his owner. It is a very curious sight to see the llamas loaded up for their journey, and upon one occasion I saw over 500 being prepared for the road. Having been driven together as closely as possible, a rope is passed around the crowded animals, being so placed as to hang on the necks of the outer ones, thus forming a perfect ring fence. They are then let out one at a time, a piece of hairy llama hide, or sheepskin with wool on, is placed on their necks, and a couple of bags tied on, pack fashion. The llama is then left to its own devices until the whole “recua,” or drove, have been laden with their burdens, when they are driven on the road, being led sometimes by one of the finest of the drove, or by a tall black alpaca, or sometimes by an old hill pony; but, whatever the leader may be, he always has a bell tied round his neck, the ceaseless clangour from which seems to keep the drove together, warning them notto delay too long by the road-side nibbling any stray grass that they can find, and which appears to be all the forage they get. At the close of the day, as soon as night falls, the llamas are again driven closely together, their burdens taken off and stacked up in the form of a rough shed, under which the arriero shelters himself for the night. The burdens being removed, the animals are free to roam around and forage for themselves, having to trust to chance whether there be any water and grass near. At break of day they are all gathered together again, and the journey is resumed, it being perfectly wonderful to see what little trouble the men have to get their droves together each morning.
The cost of freighting the ore by llamas to the seaport is not excessive, but the time occupied on the journey is very great, the principal house in Oruro assuring me that it often took twelve months before they could obtain a return from their investments in “barilla.” When the Amazonian route is opened up by the completion of the Railway of the Madeira Rapids, a road from Totora to the port on the Chimoré River will be made, the existing road between Oruro and Cochabamba will be improved, and the whole of the mineral products of the central Andean valley of Bolivia will find its way to European markets over the shortest, easiest, and most natural route, even before the finances of the country shall have sufficiently improved to enable an interior system of railways to be commenced. There is no great difference in distance between Oruro and Tacna, and Oruro and the port on the Chimoré, but a journey with animals by thelatter route offers far less risk, as pasturage is everywhere plentiful, and there is no danger of the animals dying from the effects of the soroche, so fatal on the pass of Tacora, the highest point of the Andes, passed on the roads from Oruro to the Pacific coast. If ever the happy day that shall see the opening of the Madeira and Mamoré Railway dawns for Bolivia, then few speculations appear to me to be more promising than that of mining near Oruro. The want of fuel for smelting purposes will not, when good roads are made, be felt so much at Oruro as at Potosí, for Oruro is within a reasonable distance of the eastern slopes of the Andes, which are well wooded.
As I expected, the revolution had entirely broken up the posta service between Oruro and Tacna, as well as that upon the La Paz road, so I had to suffer a week’s detention at Oruro, whilst looking out to purchase baggage mules. Animals of every kind were very scarce, but I was fortunate enough to secure a couple, though at very high prices; and our host, finding that we could not purchase any others, lent my companion Alfredo a baggage mule, and so we were at length provided for our journey on to Tacna.
During our stay in Oruro, the townspeople were much excited as to which side to take in the revolution. The prefect raised a small band of recruits and took them out to join General Daza, who was supposed to be encamped about a day’s march on the La Paz road. In his absence some conspirators of Quevedistic tendencies formed secret bands, and endeavoured to get up a “pronunciamento”for their favourite, General Quintine Quevedo. The night of January the 8th was chosen by the Quevedists for an attack upon the “quartel,” or barracks, which were held for the government by a “comandante” and about a hundred men. We had all turned in early, but about two o’clock in the morning our host called us up, saying that the revolution had commenced in the town. Alfredo and I dressed as quickly as possible, so that we might be prepared for any eventualities. At first the firing was rather rapid, but after about half an hour’s smart fusilade, it dropped off to single shots, as though one party were gradually retiring to the outskirts of the town. The shouting ceased by three o’clock, and all being quiet, we turned in again till daylight, when we found that a party of Quevedistas, supposed to be about five and twenty in number, having attacked the quartel, had been repulsed. Two of the defenders of the quartel were killed, and the comandante-general, who appeared to have conducted himself with great bravery, was hit twice in the arm and also in the side, the latter wound being a very dangerous one. The whole proceeding seemed to have been a very senseless one on the part of the Quevedistas, unless, as is very probable, they had a secret understanding with the soldiers in the quartel; if they had, the bravery of the comandante must have cowed his men, so that they feared to assist the attacking party, who were able to retreat without loss. The following morning the authorities were very active, and three or four men were taken into custody on suspicion, but it didnot appear to be known for certain who were the leaders of the attack. Rumour said that the plan was, if the quartel had been taken, that requisitions or robberies would have been committed upon the principal mercantile houses, especially upon those that were thought to be favourable to the present government. As our host was agent for Messrs. Campbell & Co. of Tacna, who were thought to be “Gobiernistas,” all the mules in his corral, our own amongst the number, had been marked out for requisition, and, I fancy, not even my own well-known Quevedistic proclivities would have saved them. A forced contribution of 10,000 pesos was also to have been raised from the firm, whilst the other mercantile houses were put on the list for sums varying from a couple to five thousand pesos. However, fortunately for us, the combination did not succeed, and as we had everything in readiness for our onward journey we hoped to get away safely on the following morning. Late the same evening an arriero came in from Tacna with a recua of about fifty mules, and as the animals and their trappings were in good condition they formed quite an imposing sight. From this arriero I was able to hire a couple of “aparejos” in good order, to replace two of mine, which were not complete. He charged me eight pesos for the hire of each one, and this turned out to be a cheaper method of equipping one’s self than purchasing new aparejos and selling them at the end of the journey.
The following night passed quietly without any more attempts at revolution. Patrols were keptup in the streets, and although the Quevedistas threatened another row, none took place. The next day, January 9th, at 5 a.m., I called our mozos, and we began to arrange our baggage for a start. As our new mules were saddle animals, and consequently unaccustomed to cargo work, we had a good deal of trouble to get ready; but by about eight o’clock we managed to make a start, intending to travel that day as far as La Barca, a distance of twelve leagues. However, before we were out of Oruro we had more trouble with the animals, as they apparently wished to go every road but the right one. One mule, a fine grey animal that would have made a perfect match for my young companion’s “macho,” with which it would have made a fine pair for a coach, was particularly lively, and nearly succeeded in jumping to the top of an almost perpendicular bank, over four feet in height, and this with over a couple of hundred-weight on his pack-saddle. So we went on with many troubles, until getting on the road outside the town the animals behaved themselves better.
The road out of Oruro first crosses the junction of two ranges of hills, in both of which are several mines, the right-hand range behind the town being worked by an apparently very well managed mining enterprise, said to belong to the house of Blondell & Co. The road then is over pampa land, and nothing but pampa of the dullest and flattest kind conceivable. Here a macho, that we were allowing to run loose, took it into its head to bolt back for Oruro, and Alfredo and I had to scamper after him for about a league, until we headed him, and turnedhim back on the right road. We arrived at the river Desaguadero about four in the afternoon, and to the ferry called La Barca about six o’clock. Here we found a troop of donkeys crossing, but made them wait whilst we were ferried over, much to the disgust of their owners, but the Indians hereabout are quite insolent enough, and it is necessary to put them in their proper place now and then.
The Desaguadero is a riverine canal, which unites the lake of Titicaca with that of Poopo, or Choro. The canal has to be crossed on a pontoon or raft, kept in its course by a hide rope stretched from bank to bank, a distance of about 300 yards. The tolls collected are one reale, say 4¾d., per mule, half a reale for a donkey, and five llamas are passed for one reale. The pontoon is made of three large barrels lashed together in a row, and having three pointed caissoons on the front. A twisted hide rope, fully three inches and a half in diameter, and most wonderfully made, is stretched across the river, being anchored to heavy stones on either side. The pointed caissoons are placed up stream, and the proper direction being given to the rudder, the current lent some slight assistance to the two men who worked the launch across the river by handwork. The launch might have a better flooring, and the landing-stages might with little expense be greatly improved; but still, on the whole, the ferry is very serviceable to travellers, and, as the traffic is considerable, it must be a fortune to the old lady who is the proprietor, and who resides at the house on the western side of the river. TheDesaguadero is the outlet for the surplus waters of lake Titicaca, the largest fresh-water lake of the South American continent, and has a course of about 200 miles in length before emptying itself into the lake of Poopo. At La Barca it is about fifty or sixty yards wide, and has but a slight current, is very muddy, and is said to be about twenty-four feet in depth at the crossing, but did not seem to me to be so deep. Without considerable dredging it would not be available for steamers, as it is very narrow and changes its course continually, leaving shallow places and “playas” (sandbanks) at every turn. The level of lake Titicaca is given in Keith Johnston’s maps as 12,846 feet above sea-level, whilst the lake of Poopo is probably about 12,400 feet. This gives an incline of about two feet per mile between the two lakes, a fall which is probably pretty evenly distributed over the entire course of the river.
Having crossed the river, we entered the house belonging to the proprietress of the ferry, and engaged a large room where my companion and I could have our cots at one end, whilst our mozos slept on hides laid on the floor at the other. We here made ourselves pretty comfortable, and having bought some mutton, had a good chupe made for supper, after which we turned in for a good night’s rest in hope of making good progress on the morrow. At La Barca prices were moderate, barley for the mules being two pesos the quintal, whilst the total charge for the mutton for our supper and the use of the room for the night was only a peso, so that, if there be no great accommodation for travellers atthe Desaguadero Hotel and ferry, at least one cannot complain of the charges. Sunday, January the 10th, was to see us to the nearest village, called Llollia, pronounced “Yocclia,” an Indian settlement, about twelve leagues from La Barca. We rose at five, but it was nearly eight o’clock before we got the mules all saddled and cargoes up. The road all day lay entirely over pampas which, in most places, were very muddy and covered with the rain which had fallen during the preceding night, and which lay in many places three and four inches in depth. This made the travelling very heavy work; but, notwithstanding, we did the twelve leagues by four o’clock in the afternoon. The tops of the ranges of hills in sight were covered with snow, and during the greater part of the day a very cold wind blew, with heavy driving rain, but fortunately at our backs. Llollia is a small Indian aldea, or collection of ranchos, built of mud, plastered with a little lime on the inside, and with very small, coffin-shaped doors, which gave one a good idea of what living in a “chulpa” must have been like. The Indians here are Aymarás, and are very cunning,—one fellow came out to meet us long before we neared the village, and tried his best to make us believe that a room he offered us was the only one to be had. On arrival we went to see his hut, and found it was more than three parts full of barley, so we looked round amongst the other ranchos, and soon got offers right and left, securing a tolerably-sized room for ourselves and a corral for the mules.
The next day was a wretched lost one. On waking at 5 a.m., I took my accustomed dose ofquinine, and, dressing leisurely, went out to the corral, expecting to find the boys saddling the mules; but neither mules nor mozos were visible, and the unpleasant fact forced itself on my unwilling belief that the mules had bolted during the night, and that the mule-boys were after them on foot. This was confirmed, in mixed Aymará and Spanish, by the old woman of the house to which the corral was attached. About seven o’clock, Marco returned with five of them, the other four having apparently taken the direction of La Barca. Juan had gone after these on foot; so, having dispatched Marco on one of the animals, all Alfredo and I could do was to wait patiently, take care of the four left in our charge, and nurse our discontents as well as we could. We had bought a small sheep for a couple of pesos on arriving at Llollia last night, so we made ourselves a breakfast of roast mutton, which we toasted in one of the ground fireplaces of the country, and waited the day out. These fireplaces are worthy of note. A hole is dug in the ground about eighteen inches in depth and two feet in diameter, and over this a framework of clay is made, with holes of different sizes, to receive the various cooking-pots. Roasting must be done on spits passed through the holes; so the meat comes out very much smoked, unless great care is taken to have only embers in the bottom of the oven. For rough cooking, the affair answers its purpose well, and one would be inclined to think that a good idea for camp ovens might be taken from it, if a curved sheet of cast or wrought iron were used instead of the clay frame, as good clay would in many places be difficult, perhaps impossible,to obtain, and would take too long to manufacture. The plan of digging a hole in the ground for a camp oven is, of course, not a new one; but it would seem that the curved top would be much simpler and lighter for transport than the camp ovens that are in general use.
QUICHUAN OVEN (LLOLLIA).Section through oven.Section through Oven and Air Intake.
QUICHUAN OVEN (LLOLLIA).Section through oven.Section through Oven and Air Intake.
QUICHUAN OVEN (LLOLLIA).
Section through oven.
Section through Oven and Air Intake.
The Indians of Llollia and the district are of the Aymará race, and are strong and well built generally. In their own way they are certainly industrious, for it is very unusual to meet either a man or a woman who is not spinning, whether indoors or out of doors, seated or walking. They are all owners of large flocks of sheep, whilst many of them also have drovesof llamas and alpacas, the last of which are said to yield large profits from the sale of the famous alpaca wool. Both men and women wear nothing but dark blue homespun clothing, with stockings of the natural colour of the wool. The men wear their hair long, twisted round the top of their heads in small and narrow plaits, which have very much the semblance of plaited horse-tails. They are scarcely ever seen without the universal poncho over their shoulders. The women wear a countless number of woollen petticoats, which are puckered up round about their waists in a most elaborate manner, and, reachingabout half-way down the calf of the leg, display a pair of ankles and feet which, to all appearance, might be made of bronze or copper. A square of woollen cloth, or shawl, is worn tied round the neck, secured in front by a couple of spoon-shaped skewers; whilst, generally at their backs, a baby is seen stowed away in the folds of the shawl—for babies are almost as numerous in the hovels on the tops of the Andes as they are in some of the back slums or courts of St. Giles. Their head-dresses are also peculiar, being something mediæval in shape and look. A frame of straw is made up in form of a lozenge, with a hole in the centre to fit the head, and this is covered with dark blue or red cloth; a curtain hanging down on all sides about six inches deep, making a capital sort of sunshade. One would not think that the women required any protection from the sun’s rays, for their faces are like their hands and ankles, of a deep brown colour, from the accumulated dust of years; whilst a red glow, that the cold winds give them, aids the semblance of their skins to well-seasoned mahogany. Washing of any sort is unknown on the higher Andes, where the strong cold winds makes even a traveller feel inclined to follow the universal custom, and let well alone.
QUICHUAN WOMAN OF LLOLLIA.
QUICHUAN WOMAN OF LLOLLIA.
QUICHUAN WOMAN OF LLOLLIA.
Towards the close of the day, much to our joy, the animals turned up, the boys having had to return all the way to La Barca, where the four mules had been captured and placed in the corral. It was fortunate for us that they did not attempt to swim across the river Desaguadero, as it was evident that they had made up their minds to return to Oruro. Perhaps they thought they would be ferried overalthough they arrived without riders, for our boys were told that at daybreak they were all found waiting on the shore close by the ferry-boat. Thus all we lost was an entire day—bad enough, but to have lost the animals would have been much worse; so we consoled ourselves and prepared to continue the journey early to-morrow, making as long a day of it as we could. At first I thought that some of the Indians had done us the trick of letting out the mules, so as to get paid for fetching them back, or as vengeance for our not having bought barley of them; but I convinced myself that the mules got over the mud walls of the corral, they being very low.
On the following day, January 12th, our work was from Llollia to El Cruzero, fourteen leagues, and although we roused up at five o’clock, it took a couple of hours to get the cargoes up and ready for the start. Notwithstanding a heavy hail-storm and rain yesterday evening and during the night, the road was not bad for travelling, as the pampas were more elevated and sandier than those nearer Oruro. Hereabouts there are many ranchos scattered over the pampa, and good crops of barley, potatoes, and quinoa were growing. This “quinoa” is a small grain about the size of millet or rape seed, and is eaten by the Aymará Indians in the same way as gram or rice is eaten by the Indians of Hindostan. When boiled or soaked it throws out a gelatinous substance that causes it to form a mass, in which state it is used by the Indians as their principal article of food. By Bolivians of higher grade, it is only used to thicken the chupe, or soup, and inthat way is very agreeable. There were also many flocks of sheep, llamas, and alpacas, as well as many vicuñas, which in these parts are very tame.
From Capillitas, a station about seven leagues from Llollia onwards, the country is much rougher, and the road takes up a very picturesque quebrada, the strata of some of the rocks standing up perpendicular. Here one of the mules that had a very light burden, consisting of bedding only, managed to kick off her cargo, and set to work with teeth and hoofs to tear up as much as she could of it, succeeding in ruining a bag and sundry other articles before we could rescue them from her.
Towards four in the afternoon came on the usual storm of hail, rain, and wind, accompanied by vivid flashes of lightning, some of which were most unpleasantly near us. To know what a hail-storm really means, one must cross the Andes, for some of these afternoon storms were the heaviest I have ever met with either at sea or land. In fact, so large were the hailstones in many instances, that I congratulated myself on being the lucky possessor of two hats, one of which, a large-brimmed thick vicuña felt, I could put on over a soft wide-awake, and then, tying a large scarf over all, so as to cover up my ears and the back of my neck, I could ride out any storm. I recollect many occasions on which the stones came down with such force, being driven by the high wind, that we were fain to turn our backs to the fury of the squall, otherwise I really think the mules would have been stunned had we forced them to receive the hail on their faces.
During the evening the air seemed to be mosthighly charged with electricity, and after nightfall the flashes of lightning were intensely vivid, the contrast causing the night to look blacker than usual. Whilst riding slowly along I was for some time puzzled by noticing two luminous points moving backwards and forwards right in front of me, and seemingly accompanying me with great regularity. Reaching out my hand towards these lights, I was astonished to find that they were on the two points of my mules’ ears, which, as they wagged to and fro in mule fashion, gleamed like the points of damp lucifer matches. Upon directing my companions’ and the mozos’ attention to the other animals, we found a similar condition to exist with each one, although it was more distinct in some cases than in others. Every one has heard that sparks can be produced from a cat’s back, when the fur is rubbed the wrong way, but I never heard that mules or other animals had the same power of evolving electricity; but probably the wet state of the hair on their ears, and the highly charged condition of the atmosphere, accounted for the phenomenon.
We did not get to El Cruzero, which consists of a few wretched hovels and a small church at the side of a brook, until nearly nine at night, some of us being drenched to the skin, and every one complaining bitterly of the cold. Here we had considerable difficulty in inducing the Indians to open their doors to us and provide us with a shelter for the night. We knocked for some time, at the door of the only hovel in which we could see a glimmer of light through the cracks of the door, and were at length gruffly told to go on our way to the next village,three and a half leagues distant. This we did not approve of, and so we tried the stratagem of shouting to the Indians, that we were part of General Quevedo’s advance-guard, and that if we were not admitted in a friendly manner we should return on the morrow with the general, who would visit them with heavy punishment. The name of Quevedo seemed to be a power to conjure by, for after the Indians had jabbered together excitedly, the door opened and a couple appeared, who with a lantern, and many apologies for delay, showed us to an adjoining hovel, which was about large enough to swing a cat round in, as the saying goes. However, we got our baggage inside, and arranged to sleep on top of it, as there was no room for setting up our cots. We tried to light a fire in the doorway, to warm our benumbed bodies and cook a supper, but the smoke filled the hovel, so that we were obliged to put out the fire and content ourselves with biscuits, sardines, and a night-cap of cingani. There was no good corral available, so we had to put the mules in the yard of the church close by, the mozos sleeping in the gateway to take care they did not escape during the night. This was thought to be great sacrilege by the Indians, but necessity knows no law, and Quevedo’s name had again to help us through the difficulty.
On the following day we determined to give the mules a short journey only, as far as Curahuara de Carangas, the village to which the Indians had on the preceding night recommended us to go. Fortunately the day was fine, so, having dried our ponchos and rugs as well as we could, and making an earlybreakfast, we settled up for the barley supplied us, and gave the Indians a couple of dollars for sweeping up the litter made by the animals in the church-yard, thus quite reconciling them to the sacrilege they charged us with last night.
The road from Cruzero onwards is good riding, being mostly sandy, over an undulating pampa. On the way I noticed a very peculiar formation of strata. A plain was completely walled in on either side by upheavals of, in some places, rock, in others earth; the dip on either side corresponding exactly, and being pitched at about an angle of 60° with the horizon.
These inclined walls varied in height in different places, in some having been worn away to the surface of the plain, in others rising, to perhaps fifty feet in height, but their almost parallel lines could be seen along the plain as far as the eye could reach. The thickness of these inverted strata might have been about twenty feet, whilst the width of the land between them was probably about half a mile. The effect on the landscape was very striking, and it is exceedingly difficult to set up any theory that may give a reasonable suggestion as to the forces of nature which caused this immense rift in what was once a level portion of the earth’s crust.
We arrived at Curahuara de Carangas about mid-day, and put up at one of the principal houses. The pueblo is small, forming one square, or “plaza” only, with a church on one of the sides. This church is said to be upwards of 200 years old, and is a very primitive building of adobe bricks and rush-covered roof, with a tower separated from the main building,as is frequently the case with old churches throughout South America. The town is not at quite such a high elevation as Potosí, being only about 12,900 feet above sea-level; but, as it is built on a slope rising from a vast plain, the climate is frightfully bleak.
The population is probably not more than 800 or 1000 souls, all told, but nevertheless the cura, or parish priest, seems to make a fine living out of them; at least, so we thought when we found him bargaining with a couple of travelling jewellers, who arrived on the same day as ourselves. The cura, who was a stout hearty man of some fifty years of age, was, though a priest, the head of a family, consisting of a buxom Quichuana and half a dozen sons and daughters. When we called he had just suited his morganatic wife and daughters with rings all round, and was debating whether he had sufficient cash or chefalonia and plata piña with which to purchase a very large diamond ring, which the “joyeros,” or jewellers, were tempting him to purchase as an episcopal jewel. The diamond was of rather a yellowish colour, about the size of a small sugar almond. The price asked was 6000 pesos, but doubtless the sellers would willingly have taken about fifteen hundred; but the priest could not raise a sufficient amount just at the moment, as his faithful flock were not in very good spirits, owing to the slackness in mining operations and the rumours of revolution.
These travelling jewellers are frequently met with in Bolivia, and, as they carry a very considerable stock of their wares, they never travelalone, but always in couples at least. They generally have one or two large diamonds on sale, and sometimes make a very good bargain with a rich priest or a successful miner. In payment they are open to take any other valuables, for they are keen hands at a bargain, being generally of the Israelitish persuasion; and a quantity of “chefalonia,” or old silver plate, such as candlesticks, cups or basons, or a few pounds’ weight of “plata piña” (pure silver in the moulds, as turned out from the smelting works at the mines), are always as acceptable to them as hard dollars. These joyeros come from either Lima or Valparaiso, and it is said that whenever they sell agros lot, such as a valuable diamond, they always leave the town and neighbourhood as quickly as possible, for fear the purchaser should repent of his bargain; and it is the best policy, whenever a traveller is asked an opinion of a large diamond or other jewel, to give a favourable one, for so many false jewels have been sold in Bolivia that the susceptible feelings of the owner of a rare and precious stone may be easily offended.
About nine leagues from the town there are mines of silver, and the inhabitants expect that the district will some day be equal to the famous Caracoles mines of the coast; but their sanguine hopes are not, in my opinion, ever likely to be realized, as their situation is far away from any possible railway route, even supposing the projected line between Tacna and La Paz should be carried out. The difficulties of transport, fuel, and forage will therefore be always so great as to preclude theidea of successful mining. Provisions of every kind were very dear, and fresh meat seldom to be had, nor even fowls nor eggs. Barley for the mules cost six pesos the quintal in the straw, but was to cost yet more further on the road to Tacna.