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Title: Inca Land - Explorations in the Highlands of Peru
Author: Bingham, Hiram, 1875-1956
Language: English
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Explorations in the Highlands of Peru


Hiram Bingham



"Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the
Ranges--Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for
you. Go!"

Kipling: "The Explorer"

This Volume

is affectionately dedicated


the Muse who inspired it

the Little Mother of Seven Sons


The following pages represent some of the results of four journeys into
the interior of Peru and also many explorations into the labyrinth of
early writings which treat of the Incas and their Land. Although my
travels covered only a part of southern Peru, they took me into every
variety of climate and forced me to camp at almost every altitude
at which men have constructed houses or erected tents in the Western
Hemisphere--from sea level up to 21,703 feet. It has been my lot to
cross bleak Andean passes, where there are heavy snowfalls and low
temperatures, as well as to wend my way through gigantic canyons into
the dense jungles of the Amazon Basin, as hot and humid a region as
exists anywhere in the world. The Incas lived in a land of violent
contrasts. No deserts in the world have less vegetation than those of
Sihuas and Majes; no luxuriant tropical valleys have more plant life
than the jungles of Conservidayoc. In Inca Land one may pass from
glaciers to tree ferns within a few hours. So also in the labyrinth
of contemporary chronicles of the last of the Incas--no historians
go more rapidly from fact to fancy, from accurate observation to
grotesque imagination; no writers omit important details and give
conflicting statements with greater frequency. The story of the Incas
is still in a maze of doubt and contradiction.

It was the mystery and romance of some of the wonderful pictures of
a nineteenth-century explorer that first led me into the relatively
unknown region between the Apurimac and the Urubamba, sometimes called
"the Cradle of the Incas." Although my photographs cannot compete with
the imaginative pencil of such an artist, nevertheless, I hope that
some of them may lead future travelers to penetrate still farther
into the Land of the Incas and engage in the fascinating game of
identifying elusive places mentioned in the chronicles.

Some of my story has already been told in Harper's and the National
Geographic, to whose editors acknowledgments are due for permission
to use the material in its present form. A glance at the Bibliography
will show that more than fifty articles and monographs have been
published as a result of the Peruvian Expeditions of Yale University
and the National Geographic Society. Other reports are still in course
of preparation. My own observations are based partly on a study
of these monographs and the writings of former travelers, partly
on the maps and notes made by my companions, and partly on a study
of our Peruvian photographs, a collection now numbering over eleven
thousand negatives. Another source of information was the opportunity
of frequent conferences with my fellow explorers. One of the great
advantages of large expeditions is the bringing to bear on the same
problem of minds which have received widely different training.

My companions on these journeys were, in 1909, Mr. Clarence L. Hay;
in 1911, Dr. Isaiah Bowman, Professor Harry Ward Foote, Dr. William
G. Erving, Messrs. Kai Hendriksen, H. L. Tucker, and Paul B. Lanius;
in 1912, Professor Herbert E. Gregory, Dr. George F. Eaton, Dr. Luther
T. Nelson, Messrs. Albert H. Bumstead, E. C. Erdis, Kenneth C. Heald,
Robert Stephenson, Paul Bestor, Osgood Hardy, and Joseph Little;
and in 1915, Dr. David E. Ford, Messrs. O. F. Cook, Edmund Heller,
E. C. Erdis, E. L. Anderson, Clarence F. Maynard, J. J. Hasbrouck,
Osgood Hardy, Geoffrey W. Morkill, and G. Bruce Gilbert. To these, my
comrades in enterprises which were not always free from discomfort or
danger, I desire to acknowledge most fully my great obligations. In
the following pages they will sometimes recognize their handiwork;
at other times they may wonder why it has been overlooked. Perhaps
in another volume, which is already under way and in which I hope to
cover more particularly Machu Picchu [1] and its vicinity, they will
eventually find much of what cannot be told here.

Sincere and grateful thanks are due also to Mr. Edward S. Harkness for
offering generous assistance when aid was most difficult to secure; to
Mr. Gilbert Grosvenor and the National Geographic Society for liberal
and enthusiastic support; to President Taft of the United States and
President Leguia of Peru for official help of a most important nature;
to Messrs. W. R. Grace & Company and to Mr. William L. Morkill and
Mr. L. S. Blaisdell, of the Peruvian Corporation, for cordial and
untiring coöperation; to Don Cesare Lomellini, Don Pedro Duque,
and their sons, and Mr. Frederic B. Johnson, of Yale University,
for many practical kindnesses; to Mrs. Blanche Peberdy Tompkins and
Miss Mary G. Reynolds for invaluable secretarial aid; and last, but
by no means least, to Mrs. Alfred Mitchell for making possible the
writing of this book.

Hiram Bingham

Yale University
October 1, 1922


I.		Crossing the Desert	1
II.		Climbing Coropuna 23
III.	To Parinacochas 50
IV.		Flamingo Lake 74
V.		Titicaca  95
VI.		The Vilcanota Country and the Peruvian Highlanders 110
VII.	The Valley of the Huatanay 133
VIII.	The Oldest City in South America 157
IX.		The Last Four Incas 170
X.		Searching for the Last Inca Capital 198
XI.		The Search Continued 217
XII.	The Fortress of Uiticos and the House of the Sun 241
XIII.	Vilcabamba 255
XIV.	Conservidayoc 266
XV.		The Pampa of Ghosts 292
XVI.	The Story of Tampu-tocco, a Lost City of the First Incas 306
XVII.	Machu Picchu 314
XVIII.	The Origin of Machu Picchu 326

		Glossary  341
		Bibliography of the Peruvian Expeditions of Yale University
		and the National Geographic Society    345
		Index	 353


"Something Hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges"
Sketch Map of Southern Peru 1
Mt. Coropuna from the Northwest 12
Mt. Coropuna from the South 24
The Base Camp, Coropuna, at 17,300 Feet 32
	Photograph by H. L. Tucker
Camping at 18,450 Feet on the Slopes of Coropuna 32
	Photograph by H. L. Tucker
One of the Frequent Rests in the Ascent of Coropuna 42
	Photograph by H. L. Tucker
The Camp on the Summit 42
	Photograph by H. L. Tucker
The Sub-Prefect of Cotahuasi, his Military Aide, and Messrs. Tucker,
Hendriksen, Bowman, and Bingham inspecting the Local Rug-weaving
Industry 60
	Photograph by C. Watkins
Inca Storehouses at Chichipampa, near Colta    66
	Photograph by H. L. Tucker
Flamingoes on Lake Parinacochas, and Mt. Sarasara 78
Mr. Tucker on a Mountain Trail near Caraveli 90
The Main Street of Chuquibamba 90
	Photograph by H. L. Tucker
A Lake Titicaca Balsa at Puno 98
A Step-topped Niche on the Island of Koati 98
Indian Alcaldes at Santa Rosa 114
Native Druggists in the Plaza of Sicuani 114
Laying Down the Warp for a Blanket; near the Pass of La Raya 120
Plowing a Potato-field at La Raya 120
The Ruins of the Temple of Viracocha at Racche 128
Route Map of the Peruvian Expedition of 1912 132
Lucre Basin, Lake Muyna, and the City Wall of Piquillacta 136
Sacsahuaman: Detail of Lower Terrace Wall 140
Ruins of the Aqueduct of Rumiccolca 140
Huatanay Valley, Cuzco, and the Ayahuaycco Quebrada 150
Map of Peru and View of Cuzco 158
	From the "Speculum Orbis Terrarum," Antwerp, 1578
Towers of Jesuit Church with Cloisters and Tennis Court of University,
Cuzco 162
Glaciers Between Cuzco and Uiticos 170
The Urubamba Canyon: A Reason for the Safety of the Incas in
Uilcapampa 176
Yucay, Last Home of Sayri Tupac 186
Part of the Nuremberg Map of 1599, showing Pincos and the Andes
Mountains 198
Route Map of the Peruvian Expedition of 1915 202
Mt. Veronica and Salapunco, the Gateway to Uilcapampa 206
Grosvenor Glacier and Mt. Salcantay 210
The Road between Maquina and Mandor Pampa, near Machu Picchu 214
Huadquiña 220
Ruins of Yurak Rumi near Huadquiña 225
	Plan and elevations drawn by A. H. Bumstead
Pucyura and the Hill of Rosaspata in the Vilcabamba Valley 238
Principal Doorway of the Long Palace at Rosaspata 242
	Photograph by E. C. Erdis
Another Doorway in the Ruins of Rosaspata 242
Northeast Face of Yurak Rumi 246
Plan of the Ruins of the Temple of the Sun at Ñusta Isppana 248
	Drawn by R. H. Bumstead
Carved Seats and Platforms of Ñusta Isppana 250
Two of the Seven Seats near the Spring under the Great White Rock 250
	Photograph by A. H. Bumstead
Ñusta Isppana 256
Quispi Cusi testifying about Inca Ruins 268
	Photograph by H. W. Foote
One of our Bearers crossing the Pampaconas River 268
	Photograph by H. W. Foote
Saavedra and his Inca Pottery 288
Inca Gable at Espiritu Pampa 288
Inca Ruins in the Jungles of Espiritu Pampa 294
	Photograph by H. W. Foote
Campa Men at Espiritu Pampa 302
	Photograph by H. L. Tucker
Campa Women and Children at Espiritu Pampa 302
	Photograph by H. L. Tucker
Puma Urco, near Paccaritampu 306
The Best Inca Wall at Maucallacta, near Paccaritampu 312
The Caves of Puma Urco, Near Paccaritampu 312
Flashlight View of Interior of Cave, Machu Picchu 320
Temple over Cave at Machu Picchu; suggested by the Author as the
Probable Site of Tampu-tocco 320
Detail of Principal Temple, Machu Picchu 324
Detail of Exterior of Temple of the Three Windows, Machu Picchu 324
The Masonry Wall with Three Windows, Machu Picchu 328
The Gorges, opening Wide Apart, reveal Uilcapampa's Granite Citadel,
the Crown of Inca Land 338

Except as otherwise indicated the illustrations are from photographs
by the author.


Sketch Map of Southern Peru.



Crossing the Desert

A kind friend in Bolivia once placed in my hands a copy of a most
interesting book by the late E. George Squier, entitled "Peru. Travel
and Exploration in the Land of the Incas." In that volume is a
marvelous picture of the Apurimac Valley. In the foreground is a
delicate suspension bridge which commences at a tunnel in the face
of a precipitous cliff and hangs in mid-air at great height above the
swirling waters of the "great speaker." In the distance, towering above
a mass of stupendous mountains, is a magnificent snow-capped peak. The
desire to see the Apurimac and experience the thrill of crossing that
bridge decided me in favor of an overland journey to Lima.

As a result I went to Cuzco, the ancient capital of the mighty empire
of the Incas, and was there urged by the Peruvian authorities to
visit some newly re-discovered Inca ruins. As readers of "Across
South America" will remember, these ruins were at Choqquequirau, an
interesting place on top of a jungle-covered ridge several thousand
feet above the roaring rapids of the great Apurimac. There was some
doubt as to who had originally lived here. The prefect insisted that
the ruins represented the residence of the Inca Manco and his sons,
who had sought refuge from Pizarro and the Spanish conquerors of Peru
in the Andes between the Apurimac and Urubamba rivers.

While Mr. Clarence L. Hay and I were on the slopes of Choqquequirau the
clouds would occasionally break away and give us tantalizing glimpses
of snow-covered mountains. There seemed to be an unknown region,
"behind the Ranges," which might contain great possibilities. Our
guides could tell us nothing about it. Little was to be found in
books. Perhaps Manco's capital was hidden there. For months afterwards
the fascination of the unknown drew my thoughts to Choqquequirau and
beyond. In the words of Kipling's "Explorer":

"... a voice, as bad as Conscience, rang interminable changes
On one everlasting Whisper day and night repeated--so:
'Something hidden. Go and find it. Go and look behind the Ranges--
Something lost behind the Ranges. Lost and waiting for you. Go!' "

To add to my unrest, during the following summer I read Bandelier's
"Titicaca and Koati," which had just appeared. In one of the
interesting footnotes was this startling remark: "It is much to be
desired that the elevation of the most prominent peaks of the western
or coast range of Peru be accurately determined. It is likely ... that
Coropuna, in the Peruvian coast range of the Department Arequipa,
is the culminating point of the continent. It exceeds 23,000 feet
in height, whereas Aconcagua [conceded to be the highest peak in
the Western Hemisphere] is but 22,763 feet (6940 meters) above
sea level." His estimate was based on a survey made by the civil
engineers of the Southern Railways of Peru, using a section of the
railroad as a base. My sensations when I read this are difficult to
describe. Although I had been studying South American history and
geography for more than ten years, I did not remember ever to have
heard of Coropuna. On most maps it did not exist. Fortunately, on one
of the sheets of Raimondi's large-scale map of Peru, I finally found
"Coropuna--6,949 m."--9 meters higher than Aconcagua!--one hundred
miles northwest of Arequipa, near the 73d meridian west of Greenwich.

Looking up and down the 73d meridian as it crossed Peru from the
Amazon Valley to the Pacific Ocean, I saw that it passed very near
Choqquequirau, and actually traversed those very lands "behind
the Ranges" which had been beckoning to me. The coincidence was
intriguing. The desire to go and find that "something hidden" was now
reënforced by the temptation to go and see whether Coropuna really was
the highest mountain in America. There followed the organization of an
expedition whose object was a geographical reconnaissance of Peru along
the 73d meridian, from the head of canoe navigation on the Urubamba
to tidewater on the Pacific. We achieved more than we expected.

Our success was due in large part to our "unit-food-boxes," a device
containing a balanced ration which Professor Harry W. Foote had
cooperated with me in assembling. The object of our idea was to
facilitate the provisioning of small field parties by packing in a
single box everything that two men would need in the way of provisions
for a given period. These boxes have given such general satisfaction,
not only to the explorers themselves, but to the surgeons who had the
responsibility of keeping them in good condition, that a few words
in regard to this feature of our equipment may not be unwelcome.

The best unit-food-box provides a balanced ration for two men
for eight days, breakfast and supper being hearty, cooked meals,
and luncheon light and uncooked. It was not intended that the men
should depend entirely on the food-boxes, but should vary their
diet as much as possible with whatever the country afforded, which
in southern Peru frequently means potatoes, corn, eggs, mutton,
and bread. Nevertheless each box contained sliced bacon, tinned
corned beef, roast beef, chicken, salmon, crushed oats, milk, cheese,
coffee, sugar, rice, army bread, salt, sweet chocolates, assorted jams,
pickles, and dried fruits and vegetables. By seeing that the jam, dried
fruits, soups, and dried vegetables were well assorted, a sufficient
variety was procured without destroying the balanced character of
the ration. On account of the great difficulty of transportation in
the southern Andes we had to eliminate foods that contained a large
amount of water, like French peas, baked beans, and canned fruits,
however delicious and desirable they might be. In addition to food,
we found it desirable to include in each box a cake of laundry soap,
two yards of dish toweling, and three empty cotton-cloth bags, to be
used for carrying lunches and collecting specimens. The most highly
appreciated article of food in our boxes was the rolled oats, a dish
which on account of its being already partially cooked was easily
prepared at high elevations, where rice cannot be properly boiled. It
was difficult to satisfy the members of the Expedition by providing
the right amount of sugar. At the beginning of the field season the
allowance--one third of a pound per day per man--seemed excessive, and
I was criticized for having overloaded the boxes. After a month in the
field the allowance proved to be too small and had to be supplemented.

Many people seem to think that it is one of the duties of an explorer
to "rough it," and to "trust to luck" for his food. I had found on
my first two expeditions, in Venezuela and Colombia and across South
America, that the result of being obliged to subsist on irregular
and haphazard rations was most unsatisfactory. While "roughing it"
is far more enticing to the inexperienced and indiscreet explorer,
I learned in Peru that the humdrum expedient of carefully preparing,
months in advance, a comprehensive bill of fare sufficiently varied,
wholesome, and well-balanced, is "the better part of valor," The truth
is that providing an abundance of appetizing food adds very greatly
to the effectiveness of a party. To be sure, it may mean trouble
and expense for one's transportation department, and some of the
younger men may feel that their reputations as explorers are likely
to be damaged if it is known that strawberry jam, sweet chocolate and
pickles are frequently found on their menu! Nevertheless, experience
has shown that the results of "trusting to luck" and "living as the
natives do" means not only loss of efficiency in the day's work, but
also lessened powers of observation and diminished enthusiasm for
the drudgery of scientific exploration. Exciting things are always
easy to do, no matter how you are living, but frequently they produce
less important results than tasks which depend upon daily drudgery;
and daily drudgery depends upon a regular supply of wholesome food.

We reached Arequipa, the proposed base for our campaign against
Mt. Coropuna, in June, 1911. We learned that the Peruvian "winter"
reaches its climax in July or August, and that it would be folly to
try to climb Coropuna during the winter snowstorms. On the other
hand, the "summer months," beginning with November, are cloudy
and likely to add fog and mist to the difficulties of climbing a
new mountain. Furthermore, June and July are the best months for
exploration in the eastern slopes of the Andes in the upper Amazon
Basin, the lands "behind the Ranges." Although the montaña, or jungle
country, is rarely actually dry, there is less rain then than in the
other months of the year; so we decided to go first to the Urubamba
Valley. The story of our discoveries there, of identifying Uiticos,
the capital of the last Incas, and of the finding of Machu Picchu will
be found in later chapters. In September I returned to Arequipa and
started the campaign against Coropuna by endeavoring to get adequate
transportation facilities for crossing the desert.

Arequipa, as everybody knows, is the home of a station of
the Harvard Observatory, but Arequipa is also famous for its
large mules. Unfortunately, a "mule trust" had recently been
formed--needless to say, by an American--and I found it difficult to
make any satisfactory arrangements. After two weeks of skirmishing,
the Tejada brothers appeared, two arrieros, or muleteers, who seemed
willing to listen to our proposals. We offered them a thousand soles
(five hundred dollars gold) if they would supply us with a pack train
of eleven mules for two months and go with us wherever we chose,
we agreeing not to travel on an average more than seven leagues
[2] a day. It sounds simple enough but it took no end of argument
and persuasion on the part of our friends in Arequipa to convince
these worthy arrieros that they were not going to be everlastingly
ruined by this bargain. The trouble was that they owned their mules,
knew the great danger of crossing the deserts that lay between us
and Mt. Coropuna, and feared to travel on unknown trails. Like most
muleteers, they were afraid of unfamiliar country. They magnified the
imaginary evils of the road to an inconceivable pitch. The argument
that finally persuaded them to accept the proffered contract was my
promise that after the first week the cargo would be so much less that
at least two of the pack mules could always be free. The Tejadas,
realizing only too well the propensity of pack animals to get sore
backs and go lame, regarded my promise in the light of a factor of
safety. Lame mules would not have to carry loads.

Everything was ready by the end of the month. Mr. H. L. Tucker,
a member of Professor H. C. Parker's 1910 Mr. McKinley Expedition
and thoroughly familiar with the details of snow-and-ice-climbing,
whom I had asked to be responsible for securing the proper equipment,
was now entrusted with planning and directing the actual ascent
of Coropuna. Whatever success was achieved on the mountain was
due primarily to Mr. Tucker's skill and foresight. We had no Swiss
guides, and had originally intended to ask two other members of the
Expedition to join us on the climb. However, the exigencies of making
a geological and topographical cross section along the 73d meridian
through a practically unknown region, and across one of the highest
passes in the Andes (17,633 ft.), had delayed the surveying party to
such an extent as to make it impossible for them to reach Coropuna
before the first of November. On account of the approach of the cloudy
season it did not seem wise to wait for their coöperation. Accordingly,
I secured in Arequipa the services of Mr. Casimir Watkins, an English
naturalist, and of Mr. F. Hinckley, of the Harvard Observatory. It
was proposed that Mr. Hinckley, who had twice ascended El Misti
(19,120 ft.), should accompany us to the top, while Mr. Watkins,
who had only recently recovered from a severe illness, should take
charge of the Base Camp.

The prefect of Arequipa obligingly offered us a military escort in
the person of Corporal Gamarra, a full-blooded Indian of rather more
than average height and considerably more than average courage, who
knew the country. As a member of the mounted gendarmerie, Gamarra had
been stationed at the provincial capital of Cotahuasi a few months
previously. One day a mob of drunken, riotous revolutionists stormed
the government buildings while he was on sentry duty. Gamarra stood
his ground and, when they attempted to force their way past him, shot
the leader of the crowd. The mob scattered. A grateful prefect made
him a corporal and, realizing that his life was no longer safe in that
particular vicinity, transferred him to Arequipa. Like nearly all of
his race, however, he fell an easy prey to alcohol. There is no doubt
that the chief of the mounted police in Arequipa, when ordered by the
prefect to furnish us an escort for our journey across the desert,
was glad enough to assign Gamarra to us. His courage could not be
called in question even though his habits might lead him to become
troublesome. It happened that Gamarra did not know we were planning
to go to Cotahuasi. Had he known this, and also had he suspected the
trials that were before him on Mt. Coropuna, he probably would have
begged off--but I am anticipating.

On the 2d of October, Tucker, Hinckley, Corporal Gamarra and I left
Arequipa; Watkins followed a week later. The first stage of the
journey was by train from Arequipa to Vitor, a distance of thirty
miles. The arrieros sent the cargo along too. In addition to the
food-boxes we brought with us tents, ice axes, snowshoes, barometers,
thermometers, transit, fiber cases, steel boxes, duffle bags, and
a folding boat. Our pack train was supposed to have started from
Arequipa the day before. We hoped it would reach Vitor about the
same time that we did, but that was expecting too much of arrieros
on the first day of their journey. So we had an all-day wait near
the primitive little railway station.

We amused ourselves wandering off over the neighboring pampa and
studying the médanos, crescent-shaped sand dunes which are common in
the great coastal desert. One reads so much of the great tropical
jungles of South America and of wellnigh impenetrable forests that
it is difficult to realize that the West Coast from Ecuador, on
the north, to the heart of Chile, on the south, is a great desert,
broken at intervals by oases, or valleys whose rivers, coming
from melting snows of the Andes, are here and there diverted for
purposes of irrigation. Lima, the capital of Peru, is in one of the
largest of these oases. Although frequently enveloped in a damp fog,
the Peruvian coastal towns are almost never subjected to rain. The
causes of this phenomenon are easy to understand. Winds coming from
the east, laden with the moisture of the Atlantic Ocean and the
steaming Amazon Basin, are rapidly cooled by the eastern slopes of
the Andes and forced to deposit this moisture in the montaña. By
the time the winds have crossed the mighty cordillera there is no
rain left in them. Conversely, the winds that come from the warm
Pacific Ocean strike a cold area over the frigid Humboldt Current,
which sweeps up along the west coast of South America. This cold belt
wrings the water out of the westerly winds, so that by the time they
reach the warm land their relative humidity is low. To be sure, there
are months in some years when so much moisture falls on the slopes
of the coast range that the hillsides are clothed with flowers, but
this verdure lasts but a short time and does not seriously affect the
great stretches of desert pampa in the midst of which we now were. Like
the other pampas of this region, the flat surface inclines toward the
sea. Over it the sand is rolled along by the wind and finally built
into crescent-shaped dunes. These médanos interested us greatly.

The prevailing wind on the desert at night is a relatively gentle
breeze that comes down from the cool mountain slopes toward the
ocean. It tends to blow the lighter particles of sand along in a
regular dune, rolling it over and over downhill, leaving the heavier
particles behind. This is reversed in the daytime. As the heat
increases toward noon, the wind comes rushing up from the ocean to
fill the vacuum caused by the rapidly ascending currents of hot air
that rise from the overheated pampas. During the early afternoon this
wind reaches a high velocity and swirls the sand along in clouds. It
is now strong enough to move the heavier particles of sand, uphill. It
sweeps the heaviest ones around the base of the dune and deposits
them in pointed ridges on either side. The heavier material remains
stationary at night while the lighter particles are rolled downhill,
but the whole mass travels slowly uphill again during the gales of
the following afternoon. The result is the beautiful crescent-shaped

About five o'clock our mules, a fine-looking lot--far superior to any
that we had been able to secure near Cuzco--trotted briskly into the
dusty little plaza. It took some time to adjust the loads, and it was
nearly seven o'clock before we started off in the moonlight for the
oasis of Vitor. As we left the plateau and struck the dusty trail
winding down into a dark canyon we caught a glimpse of something
white shimmering faintly on the horizon far off to the northwest;
Coropuna! Shortly before nine o'clock we reached a little corral,
where the mules were unloaded. For ourselves we found a shed with
a clean, stone-paved floor, where we set up our cots, only to be
awakened many times during the night by passing caravans anxious to
avoid the terrible heat of the desert by day.


Mt. Coropuna from the Northwest

Where the oases are only a few miles apart one often travels by day,
but when crossing the desert is a matter of eight or ten hours'
steady jogging with no places to rest, no water, no shade, the pack
animals suffer greatly. Consequently, most caravans travel, so far
as possible, by night. Our first desert, the pampa of Sihuas, was
reported to be narrow, so we preferred to cross it by day and see
what was to be seen. We got up about half-past four and were off
before seven. Then our troubles began. Either because he lived in
Arequipa or because they thought he looked like a good horseman,
or for reasons best known to themselves, the Tejadas had given
Mr. Hinckley a very spirited saddle-mule. The first thing I knew,
her rider, carrying a heavy camera, a package of plate-holders, and
a large mercurial barometer, borrowed from the Harvard Observatory,
was pitched headlong into the sand. Fortunately no damage was done,
and after a lively chase the runaway mule was brought back by Corporal
Gamarra. After Mr. Hinckley was remounted on his dangerous mule we
rode on for a while in peace, between cornfields and vineyards, over
paths flanked by willows and fig trees. The chief industry of Vitor is
the making of wine from vines which date back to colonial days. The
wine is aged in huge jars, each over six feet high, buried in the
ground. We had a glimpse of seventeen of them standing in a line,
awaiting sale. It made one think of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves,
who would have had no trouble at all hiding in these Cyclopean crocks.

The edge of the oasis of Vitor is the contour line along which
the irrigating canal runs. There is no gradual petering out of
foliage. The desert begins with a stunning crash. On one side is
the bright, luxurious green of fig trees and vineyards; on the other
side is the absolute stark nakedness of the sandy desert. Within the
oasis there is an abundance of water. Much of it runs to waste. The
wine growers receive more than they can use; in fact, more land
could easily be put under cultivation. The chief difficulties are
the scarcity of ports from which produce can be shipped to the outer
world, the expense of the transportation system of pack trains over
the deserts which intervene between the oases and the railroad,
and the lack of capital. Otherwise the irrigation system might be
extended over great stretches of rich, volcanic soil, now unoccupied.

A steady climb of three quarters of an hour took us to the northern rim
of the valley. Here we again saw the snowy mass of Coropuna, glistening
in the sunlight, seventy-five miles away to the northwest. Our view was
a short one, for in less than three minutes we had to descend another
canyon. We crossed this and climbed out on the pampa of Sihuas. There
was little to interest us in our immediate surroundings, but in the
distance was Coropuna, and I had just begun to study the problem of
possible routes for climbing the highest peak when Mr. Hinckley's
mule trotted briskly across the trail directly in front of me, kicked
up her heels, and again sent him sprawling over the sand, barometer,
camera, plates, and all. Unluckily, this time his foot caught in a
stirrup and, still holding the bridle, he was dragged some distance
before he got it loose. He struggled to his feet and tried to keep
the mule from running away, when a violent kick released his hold
and knocked him out. We immediately set up our little "Mummery"
tent on the hot, sandy floor of the desert and rendered first-aid to
the unlucky astronomer. We found that the sharp point of one of the
vicious mule's new shoes had opened a large vein in Mr. Hinckley's
leg. The cut was not dangerous, but too deep for successful mountain
climbing. With Gamarra's aid, Mr. Hinckley was able to reach Arequipa
that night, but his enforced departure not only shattered his own hopes
of climbing Coropuna, but also made us wonder how we were going to have
the necessary three-men-on-the-rope when we reached the glaciers. To
be sure, there was the corporal--but would he go? Indians do not like
snow mountains. Packing up the tent again, we resumed our course over
the desert.

The oasis of Sihuas, another beautiful garden in the bottom of a
huge canyon, was reached about four o'clock in the afternoon. We
should have been compelled to camp in the open with the arrieros had
not the parish priest invited us to rest in the cool shade of his
vine-covered arbor. He graciously served us with cakes and sweet
native wine, and asked us to stay as long as we liked. The desert
of Majes, which now lay ahead of us, is perhaps the widest, hottest,
and most barren in this region. Our arrieros were unwilling to cross
it in the daytime. They said it was forty-five miles between water
and water. The next day we enjoyed the hospitality of our kindly host
until after supper.

So sure are the inhabitants of these oases that it is not going to
rain that their houses are built merely as a shelter against the sun
and wind. They are made of the canes that grow in the jungles of the
larger river bottoms, or along the banks of irrigating ditches. On the
roof the spaces between the canes are filled with adobe, sun-dried
mud. It is not necessary to plaster the sides of the houses, for it
is pleasant to let the air have free play, and it is amusing to look
out through the cracks and see everything that is passing.

That evening we saddled in the moonlight. Slowly we climbed out of the
valley, to spend the night jogging steadily, hour after hour, across
the desert. As the moon was setting we entered a hilly region, and
at sunrise found ourselves in the midst of a tumbled mass of enormous
sand dunes--the result of hundreds of médanos blown across the pampa
of Majes and deposited along the border of the valley. It took us
three hours to wind slowly down from the level of the desert to a
point where we could see the great canyon, a mile deep and two miles
across. Its steep sides are of various colored rocks and sand. The
bottom is a bright green oasis through which flows the rapid Majes
River, too deep to be forded even in the dry season. A very large
part of the flood plain of the unruly river is not cultivated, and
consists of a wild jungle, difficult of access in the dry season and
impossible when the river rises during the rainy months. The contrast
between the gigantic hills of sand and the luxurious vegetation was
very striking; but to us the most beautiful thing in the landscape
was the long, glistening, white mass of Coropuna, now much larger
and just visible above the opposite rim of the valley.

At eight o'clock in the morning, as we were wondering how long it would
be before we could get down to the bottom of the valley and have some
breakfast, we discovered, at a place called Pitas (or Cerro Colorado),
a huge volcanic boulder covered with rude pictographs. Further
search in the vicinity revealed about one hundred of these boulders,
each with its quota of crude drawings. I did not notice any ruins of
houses near the rocks. Neither of the Tejada brothers, who had been
past here many times, nor any of the natives of this region appeared
to have any idea of the origin or meaning of this singular collection
of pictographic rocks. The drawings represented jaguars, birds, men,
and dachshund-like dogs. They deserved careful study. Yet not even the
interest and excitement of investigating the "rocas jeroglificos,"
as they are called here, could make us forget that we had had no
food or sleep for a good many hours. So after taking a few pictures
we hastened on and crossed the Majes River on a very shaky temporary
bridge. It was built to last only during the dry season. To construct
a bridge which would withstand floods is not feasible at present. We
spent the day at Coriri, a pleasant little village where it was almost
impossible to sleep, on account of the myriads of gnats.

The next day we had a short ride along the western side of the valley
to the town of Aplao, the capital of the province of Castilla, called
by its present inhabitants "Majes," although on Raimondi's map that
name is applied only to the river and the neighboring desert. In 1865,
at the time of his visit, it had a bad reputation for disease. Now
it seems more healthy. The sub-prefect of Castilla had been informed
by telegraph of our coming, and invited us to an excellent dinner.

The people of Majes are largely of mixed white and Indian
ancestry. Many of them appeared to be unusually businesslike. The
proprietor of one establishment was a great admirer of American shoes,
the name of which he pronounced in a manner that puzzled us for a
long time. "W" is unknown in Spanish and the letters "a," "l," and "k"
are never found in juxtaposition. When he asked us what we thought of
"Valluck-ofair'," accenting strongly the last syllable, we could not
imagine what he meant. He was equally at a loss to understand how we
could be so stupid as not to recognize immediately the well-advertised
name of a widely known shoe.

At Majes we observed cotton, which is sent to the mills at Arequipa,
alfalfa, highly prized as fodder for pack animals, sugar cane, from
which aguardiente, or white rum, is made, and grapes. It is said that
the Majes vineyards date back to the sixteenth century, and that some
of the huge, buried, earthenware wine jars now in use were made as far
back as the reign of Philip II. The presence of so much wine in the
community does not seem to have a deleterious effect on the natives,
who were not only hospitable but energetic--far more so, in fact,
than the natives of towns in the high Andes, where the intense cold
and the difficulty of making a living have reacted upon the Indians,
often causing them to be morose, sullen, and without ambition. The
residences of the wine growers are sometimes very misleading. A typical
country house of the better class is not much to look at. Its long,
low, flat roof and rough, unwhitewashed, mud-colored walls give it
an unattractive appearance; yet to one's intense surprise the inside
may be clean and comfortable, with modern furniture, a piano, and
a phonograph.

Our conscientious and hard-working arrieros rose at two o'clock the
next morning, for they knew their mules had a long, hard climb ahead
of them, from an elevation of 1000 feet above sea level to 10,000
feet. After an all-day journey we camped at a place where forage could
be obtained. We had now left the region of tropical products and come
back to potatoes and barley. The following day a short ride brought us
past another pictographic rock, recently blasted open by an energetic
"treasure seeker" of Chuquibamba. This town has 3000 inhabitants and
is the capital of the province of Condesuyos. It was the place which
we had selected several months before as the rendezvous for the attack
on Coropuna. The climate here is delightful and the fruits and cereals
of the temperate zone are easily raised. The town is surrounded by
gardens, vineyards, alfalfa and grain fields; all showing evidence
of intensive cultivation. It is at the head of one of the branches
of the Majes Valley and is surrounded by high cliffs.

The people of Chuquibamba were friendly. We were kindly welcomed by
Señor Benavides, the sub-prefect, who hospitably told us to set up our
cots in the grand salon of his own house. Here we received calls from
the local officials, including the provincial physician, Dr. Pastór,
and the director of the Colegio Nacional, Professor Alejandro
Coello. The last two were keen to go with us up Mt. Coropuna.  They
told us that there was a hill near by called the Calvario, whence the
mountain could be seen, and offered to take us up there. We accepted,
thinking at the same time that this would show who was best fitted to
join in the climb, for we needed another man on the rope. Professor
Coello easily distanced the rest of us and won the coveted place.

From the Calvario hill we had a splendid view of those white solitudes
whither we were bound, now only twenty-five miles away. It seemed
clear that the western or truncated peak, which gives its name to the
mass (koro = "cut off at the top"; puna = "a cold, snowy height"),
was the highest point of the range, and higher than all the eastern
peaks. Yet behind the flat-topped dome we could just make out a
northerly peak. Tucker wondered whether or not that might prove to
be higher than the western peak which we decided to climb. No one
knew anything about the mountain. There were no native guides to be
had. The wildest opinions were expressed as to the best routes and
methods of getting to the top. We finally engaged a man who said he
knew how to get to the foot of the mountain, so we called him "guide"
for want of a more appropriate title. The Peruvian spring was now well
advanced and the days were fine and clear. It appeared, however, that
there had been a heavy snowstorm on the mountain a few days before. If
summer were coming unusually early it behooved us to waste no time,
and we proceeded to arrange the mountain equipment as fast as possible.

Our instruments for determining altitude consisted of a special
mountain-mercurial barometer made by Mr. Henry J. Green, of
Brooklyn, capable of recording only such air pressures as one might
expect to find above 12,000 feet; a hypsometer loaned us by the
Department of Terrestrial Magnetism of the Carnegie Institution
of Washington, with thermometers especially made for us by Green;
a large mercurial barometer, borrowed from the Harvard Observatory,
which, notwithstanding its rough treatment by Mr. Hinckley's mule, was
still doing good service; and one of Green's sling psychrometers. Our
most serious want was an aneroid, in case the fragile mercurials
should get broken. Six months previously I had written to J. Hicks,
the celebrated instrument maker of London, asking him to construct,
with special care, two large "Watkins" aneroids capable of recording
altitudes five thousand feet higher than Coropuna was supposed to
be. His reply had never reached me, nor did any one in Arequipa know
anything about the barometers. Apparently my letter had miscarried. It
was not until we opened our specially ordered "mountain grub" boxes
here in Chuquibamba that we found, alongside of the pemmican and
self-heating tins of stew which had been packed for us in London by
Grace Brothers, the two precious aneroids, each as large as a big alarm
clock. With these two new aneroids, made with a wide margin of safety,
we felt satisfied that, once at the summit, we should know whether
there was a chance that Bandelier was right and this was indeed the
top of America.

For exact measurements we depended on Topographer Hendriksen, who was
due to triangulate Coropuna in the course of his survey along the 73d
meridian. My chief excuse for going up the mountain was to erect a
signal at or near the top which Hendriksen could use as a station in
order to make his triangulation more exact. My real object, it must
be confessed, was to enjoy the satisfaction, which all Alpinists feel,
of conquering a "virgin peak."


Climbing Coropuna

The desert plateau above Chuquibamba is nearly 2500 feet higher than
the town, and it was nine o'clock on the morning of October 10th
before we got out of the valley. Thereafter Coropuna was always in
sight, and as we slowly approached it we studied it with care. The
plateau has an elevation of over 15,000 feet, yet the mountain stood
out conspicuously above it. Coropuna is really a range about twenty
miles long. Its gigantic massif was covered with snow fields from one
end to the other. So deep did the fresh snow lie that it was generally
impossible to see where snow fields ended and glaciers began. We could
see that of the five well-defined peaks the middle one was probably
the lowest. The two next highest are at the right, or eastern, end of
the massif. The culminating truncated dome at the western end, with its
smooth, uneroded sides, apparently belonged to a later volcanic period
than the rest of the mountain. It seemed to be the highest peak of
all. To reach it did not appear to be difficult. Rock-covered slopes
ran directly up to the snow. Snow fields, without many rock-falls,
appeared to culminate in a saddle at the base of the great snowy
dome. The eastern slope of the dome itself offered an unbroken,
if steep, path to the top. If we could once reach the snow line,
it looked as though, with the aid of ice-creepers or snowshoes,
we could climb the mountain without serious trouble.


Mt. Coropuna from the South

Between us and the first snow-covered slopes, however, lay more
than twenty miles of volcanic desert intersected by deep canyons,
steep quebradas, and very rough aa lava. Directed by our "guide,"
we left the Cotahuasi road and struck across country, dodging the
lava flows and slowly ascending the gentle slope of the plateau. As
it became steeper our mules showed signs of suffering. While waiting
for them to get their wind we went ahead on foot, climbed a short
rise, and to our surprise and chagrin found ourselves on the rim of a
steep-walled canyon, 1500 feet deep, which cut right across in front
of the mountain and lay between us and its higher slopes. After the
mules had rested, the guide now decided to turn to the left instead of
going straight toward the mountain. A dispute ensued as to how much he
knew, even about the foot of Coropuna. He denied that there were any
huts whatever in the canyon. "Abandonado; despoblado; desierto." "A
waste; a solitude; a wilderness." So he described it. Had he been
there? "No, Señor." Luckily we had been able to make out from the rim
of the canyon two or three huts near a little stream. As there was no
question that we ought to get to the snow line as soon as possible, we
decided to dispense with the services of so well-informed a "guide,"
and make such way as we could alone. The altitude of the rim of the
canyon was 16,000 feet; the mules showed signs of acute distress from
mountain sickness. The arrieros began to complain loudly, but did
what they could to relieve the mules by punching holes in their ears;
the theory being that bloodletting is a good thing for soroche. As
soon as the timid arrieros reached a point where they could see
down into the canyon, they spotted some patches of green pasture,
cheered up a bit, and even smiled over the dismal ignorance of the
"guide." Soon we found a trail which led to the huts.

Near the huts was a taciturn Indian woman, who refused to furnish us
with either fuel or forage, although we tried to pay in advance and
offered her silver. Nevertheless, we proceeded to pitch our tents
and took advantage of the sheltering stone wall of her corral for
our camp fire. After peace had settled down and it became perfectly
evident that we were harmless, the door of one of the huts opened
and an Indian man appeared. Doubtless the cause of his disappearance
before our arrival had been the easily discernible presence in our
midst of the brass buttons of Corporal Gamarra. Possibly he who had
selected this remote corner of the wilderness for his abode had a
guilty conscience and at the sight of a gendarme decided that he had
better hide at once. More probably, however, he feared the visit of
a recruiting party, since it is quite likely that he had not served
his legal term of military service. At all events, when his wife
discovered that we were not looking for her man, she allowed his
curiosity to overcome his fears. We found that the Indians kept a
few llamas. They also made crude pottery, firing it with straw and
llama dung. They lived almost entirely on gruel made from chuño,
frozen bitter potatoes. Little else than potatoes will grow at 14,000
feet above the sea. For neighbors the Indians had a solitary old man,
who lived half a mile up nearer the glaciers, and a small family,
a mile and a half down the valley.

Before dark the neighbors came to call, and we tried our best to
persuade the men to accompany us up the mountain and help to carry
the loads from the point where the mules would have to stop; but they
declined absolutely and positively. I think one of the men might have
gone, but as soon as his quiet, well-behaved wife saw him wavering
she broke out in a torrent of violent denunciation, telling him the
mountain would "eat him up" and that unless he wanted to go to heaven
before his time he had better let well enough alone and stay where he
was. Cieza de Leon, one of the most careful of the early chroniclers
(1550), says that at Coropuna "the devil" talks "more freely" than
usual. "For some secret reason known to God, it is said that devils
walk visibly about in that place, and that the Indians see them and are
much terrified. I have also heard that these devils have appeared to
Christians in the form of Indians." Perhaps the voluble housewife was
herself one of the famous Coropuna devils. She certainly talked "more
freely" than usual. Or possibly she thought that the Coropuna "devils"
were now appearing to Indians "in the form of" Christians! Anyhow the
Indians said that on top of Coropuna there was a delightful, warm
paradise containing beautiful flowers, luscious fruits, parrots of
brilliant plumage, macaws, and even monkeys, those faithful denizens
of hot climates. The souls of the departed stop to rest and enjoy
themselves in this charming spot on their upward flight. Like most
primitive people who live near snow-capped mountains, they had an
abject terror of the forbidding summits and the snowstorms that seem
to come down from them. Probably the Indians hope to propitiate
the demons who dwell on the mountain tops by inventing charming
stories relating to their abode. It is interesting to learn that in
the neighboring hamlet of Pampacolca, the great explorer Raimondi,
in 1865, found the natives "exiled from the civilized world, still
preserving their primitive customs... carrying idols to the slopes
of the great snow mountain Coropuna, and there offering them as a
sacrifice." Apparently the mountain still inspires fear in the hearts
of all those who live near it.

The fact that we agreed to pay in advance unheard-of wages, ten
times the usual amount earned by laborers in this vicinity, that we
added offers of the precious coca leaves, the greatly-to-be-desired
"fire-water," the rarely seen tobacco, and other good things usually
coveted by Peruvian highlanders, had no effect in the face of the
terrors of the mountain. They knew only too well that snow-blindness
was one of the least of ills to be encountered; while the advantages
of dark-colored glasses, warm clothes, kerosene stoves, and plenty
of good food, which we freely offered, were far too remote from the
realm of credible possibilities. Professor Coello understood all these
matters perfectly and, being able to speak Quichua, the language of
our prospective carriers, did his best in the way of argument, not
only out of loyalty to the Expedition, but because Peruvian gentlemen
always regard the carrying of a load as extremely undignified and
improper. I have known one of the most energetic and efficient business
men in Peru, a highly respected gentleman in a mountain city, so to
dislike being obliged to carry a rolled and unmounted photograph,
little larger than a lead pencil, that he sent for a cargador, an
Indian porter, to bear it for him!

As a matter of fact, Professor Coello was perfectly willing to do
his share and more; but neither he nor we were anxious to climb with
heavy packs on our backs, in the rarefied air of elevations several
thousand feet higher than Mont Blanc. The argument with the Indians
was long and verbose and the offerings of money and goods were made
more and more generous. All was in vain. We finally came to realize
that whatever supplies and provisions were carried up Coropuna would
have to be borne on our own shoulders. That evening the top of the
truncated dome, which was just visible from the valley near our camp,
was bathed in a roseate Alpine glow, unspeakably beautiful. The air,
however, was very bitter and the neighboring brook froze solid. During
the night the gendarme's mule became homesick and disappeared with
Coello's horse. Gamarra was sent to look for the strays, with orders
to follow us as soon as possible.

As no bearers or carriers were to be secured, it was essential to
persuade the Tejadas to take their pack mules up as far as the snow,
a feat they declined to do. The mules, Don Pablo said, had already gone
as far as and farther than mules had any business to go. Soon after
reaching camp Tucker had gone off on a reconnaissance. He reported that
there was a path leading out of the canyon up to the llama pastures on
the lower slopes of the mountains. The arrieros denied the accuracy
of his observations. However, after a long argument, they agreed
to go as far as there was a good path, and no farther. There was no
question of our riding. It was simply a case of getting the loads as
high up as possible before we had to begin to carry them ourselves. It
may be imagined that the arrieros packed very slowly and grudgingly,
although the loads were now considerably reduced. Finally, leaving
behind our saddles, ordinary supplies, and everything not considered
absolutely necessary for a two weeks' stay on the mountain, we set off.

We could easily walk faster than the loaded mules, and thought it
best to avoid trouble by keeping far enough ahead so as not to hear
the arrieros' constant complaints. After an hour of not very hard
climbing over a fairly good llama trail, the Tejadas stopped at the
edge of the pastures and shouted to us to come back. We replied
equally vociferously, calling them to come ahead, which they did
for half an hour more, slowly zigzagging up a slope of coarse,
black volcanic sand. Then they not only stopped but commenced to
unload the mules. It was necessary to rush back and commence a
violent and acrimonious dispute as to whether the letter of the
contract had been fulfilled and the mules had gone "as far as they
could reasonably be expected to go." The truth was, the Tejadas
were terrified at approaching mysterious Coropuna. They were sure
it would take revenge on them by destroying their mules, who would
"certainly die the following day of soroche." We offered a bonus of
thirty soles--fifteen dollars--if they would go on for another hour,
and threatened them with all sorts of things if they would not. At
last they readjusted the loads and started climbing again.

The altitude was now about 16,000 feet, but at the foot of a steep
little rise the arrieros stopped again. This time they succeeded in
unloading two mules before we could scramble down over the sand and
boulders to stop them. Threats and prayers were now of no avail. The
only thing that would satisfy was a legal document! They demanded
an agreement "in writing" that in case any mule or mules died as
a result of this foolish attempt to get up to the snow line, I
should pay in gold two hundred soles for each and every mule that
died. Further, I must agree to pay a bonus of fifty soles if they
would keep climbing until noon or until stopped by snow. This document,
having been duly drawn up by Professor Coello, seated on a lava rock
amidst the clinker-like cinders of the old volcano, was duly signed
and sealed. In order that there might be no dispute as to the time,
my best chronometer was handed over to Pablo Tejada to carry until
noon. The mules were reloaded and again the ascent began. Presently the
mules encountered some pretty bad going, on a steep slope covered with
huge lava boulders and scoriaceous sand. We expected more trouble every
minute. However, the arrieros, having made an advantageous bargain,
did their best to carry it out. Fortunately the mules reached the
snow line just fifteen minutes before twelve o'clock. The Tejadas
lost no time in unloading, claimed their bonus, promised to return
in ten days, and almost before we knew it had disappeared down the
side of the mountain.

We spent the afternoon establishing our Base Camp. We had three tents,
the "Mummery," a very light and diminutive wall tent about four feet
high, made by Edgington of London; an ordinary wall tent, 7 by 7, of
fairly heavy material, with floor sewed in; and an improved pyramidal
tent, made by David Abercrombie, but designed by Mr. Tucker after
one used on Mt. McKinley by Professor Parker. Tucker's tent had two
openings--a small vent in the top of the pyramid, capable of being
closed by an adjustable cap in case of storm, and an oval entrance
through which one had to crawl. This opening could be closed to any
desired extent with a pucker string. A fairly heavy, waterproof floor,
measuring 7 by 7, was sewed to the base of the pyramid so that a single
pole, without guy ropes, was all that was necessary to keep the tent
upright after the floor had been securely pegged to the ground, or
snow. Tucker's tent offered the advantages of being carried without
difficulty, easily erected by one man, readily ventilated and yet
giving shelter to four men in any weather. We proposed to leave the
wall tent at the Base, but to take the pyramidal tent with us on the
climb. We determined to carry the "Mummery" to the top of the mountain
to use while taking observations.

The elevation of the Base Camp was 17,300 feet. We were surprised
and pleased to find that at first we had good appetites and no
soroche. Less than a hundred yards from the wall tent was a small
diurnal stream, fed by melting snow. Whenever I went to get water for
cooking or washing purposes I noticed a startling and rapid rise in
pulse and increasing shortness of breath. My normal pulse is 70. After
I walked slowly a hundred feet on a level at this altitude it rose to
120. After I had been seated awhile it dropped down to 100. Gradually
our sense of well-being departed and was followed by a feeling of
malaise and general disability. There was a splendid sunset, but we
were too sick and cold to enjoy it. That night all slept badly and had
some headache. A high wind swept around the mountain and threatened
to carry away both of our tents. As we lay awake, wondering at what
moment we should find ourselves deserted by the frail canvas shelters,
we could not help thinking that Coropuna was giving us a fair warning
of what might happen higher up.


The Base Camp, Coropuna, at 17,300 Feet


Camping at 18,450 Feet on the Slopes of Coropuna

For breakfast we had pemmican, hard-tack, pea soup and tea. We
all wanted plenty of sugar in our tea and drank large quantities
of it. Experience on Mt. McKinley had led Tucker to believe
heartily in the advantages of pemmican, a food especially prepared
for Arctic explorers. Neither Coello nor Gamarra nor I had ever
tasted it before. We decided that it is not very palatable on first
acquaintance. Although doubtless of great value when one has to spend
long periods of time in the Arctic, where even seal's blubber is a
delicacy "as good as cow's cream," I presume we could have done just
as well without it.

It was decided to carry with us from the Base enough fuel and
supplies to last through any possible misadventure, even of a week's
duration. Accounts of climbs in the high Andes are full of failures
due to the necessity of the explorers' being obliged to return to
food, warmth, and shelter before having effected the conquest of
a new peak. One remembers the frequent disappointments that came
to such intrepid climbers as Whymper in Ecuador, Martin Conway in
Bolivia and Fitzgerald in Chile and Argentina, due to high winds,
the sudden advent of terrific snowstorms and the weakness caused by
soroche. At the cost of carrying extra-heavy loads we determined to
try to avoid being obliged to turn back. We could only hope that no
unforeseen event would finally defeat our efforts.

Tucker decided to establish a cache of food and fuel as far up the
mountain side as he and Coello could carry fifty pounds in a single
day's climb. Leaving me to reset the demoralized tents and do other
chores, they started off, packing loads of about twenty-five pounds
each. To me their progress up the mountain side seemed extraordinarily
slow. Were they never going to get anywhere? Their frequent stops
seemed ludicrous. I was to learn later that it is as difficult at a
high elevation for one who is not climbing to have any sympathy for
those suffering from soroche as it is for a sailor to appreciate the
sensations of one who is seasick.

During the morning I set up the barometers and took a series of
observations. It was pleasant to note that the two new mountain
aneroids registered exactly alike. All the different units of the
cargo that was to be taken up the mountain then had to be weighed,
so that they might be equitably distributed in our loads the following
day. We had two small kerosene stoves with Primus burners. Our grub,
ordered months before, specially for this climb, consisted of pemmican
in 8 1/4-pound tins, Kola chocolate in half-pound tins, seeded raisins
in 1-pound tins, cube sugar in 4-pound tins, hard-tack in 6 1/2-pound
tins, jam, sticks of dried pea soup, Plasmon biscuit, tea, and a few
of Silver's self-heating "messtins" containing Irish stew, beef à la
mode, et al. Corporal Gamarra appeared during the day, having found
his mule, which had strayed twelve miles down the canyon. He did not
relish the prospect of climbing Coropuna, but when he saw the warm
clothes which we had provided for him and learned that he would get
a bonus of five gold sovereigns on top of the mountain, he decided
to accept his duties philosophically.

Tucker and Coello returned in the middle of the afternoon, reported
that there seemed to be no serious difficulties in the first part
of the climb and that a cache had been established about 2000 feet
above the Base Camp, on a snow field. Tucker now assigned our packs
for the morrow and skillfully prepared the tump-lines and harness
with which we were to carry them.

Notwithstanding an unusual headache which lasted all day long, I
still had some appetite. Our supper consisted of pemmican pudding
with raisins, hard-tack and pea soup, which every one was able to
eat, if not to enjoy. That night we slept better, one reason being
that the wind did not blow as hard as it had the night before. The
weather continued fine. Watkins was due to arrive from Arequipa in
a day or two, but we decided not to wait for him or run any further
risk of encountering an early summer snowstorm. The next morning,
after adjusting our fifty-pound loads to our unaccustomed backs,
we left camp about nine o'clock. We wore Appalachian Mountain
Club snow-creepers, or crampons, heavy Scotch mittens, knit woolen
helmets, dark blue snow-glasses, and very heavy clothing. It will be
remembered by visitors to the Zermatt Museum that the Swiss guides
who once climbed Huascaran, in the northern Peruvian Andes, had been
maimed for life by their experiences in the deep snows of those great
altitudes. We determined to take no chances, and in order to prevent
the possibility of frost-bite each man was ordered to put on four pairs
of heavy woolen socks and two or three pairs of heavy underdrawers.

Professor Coello and Corporal Gamarra wore large, heavy boots. I
had woolen puttees and "Arctic" overshoes. Tucker improvised what
he regarded as highly satisfactory sandals out of felt slippers and
pieces of a rubber poncho. Since there seemed to be no rock-climbing
ahead of us, we decided to depend on crampons rather than on the
heavy hob-nailed climbing boots with which Alpinists are familiar.

The snow was very hard until about one o'clock. By three o'clock it
was so soft as to make further progress impossible. We found that,
loaded as we were, we could not climb a gentle rise faster than twenty
steps at a time. On the more level snow fields we took twenty-five
or thirty steps before stopping to rest. At the end of each stint
it seemed as though they would be the last steps we should ever
take. Panting violently, fatigued beyond belief, and overcome with
mountain-sickness, we would stop and lean on our ice axes until able
to take twenty-five steps more.

It did not take very long to recover one's wind. Finally we reached a
glacier marked by a network of crevasses, none very wide, and nearly
all covered with snow-bridges. We were roped together, and although
there was an occasional fall no great strain was put on the rope. Then
came great snow fields with not a single crevasse. For the most part
our day was simply an unending succession of stints--twenty-five steps
and a rest, repeated four or five times and followed by thirty-five
steps and a longer rest, taken lying down in the snow. We pegged along
until about half-past two, when the rapidly melting snow stopped all
progress. At an altitude of about 18,450 feet, the Tucker tent was
pitched on a fairly level snow field. We now noticed with dismay that
the two big aneroids had begun to differ. As the sun declined the
temperature fell rapidly. At half-past five the thermometer stood
at 22° F. During the night the minimum thermometer registered 9°
F. We noticed a considerable number of lightning flashes in the
northeast. They were not accompanied by any thunder, but alarmed us
considerably. We feared the expected November storms might be ahead of
time. We closed the tent door on account of a biting wind. Owing to
the ventilating device at the top of the tent, we managed to breathe
fairly well. Mountain climbers at high altitudes have occasionally
observed that one of the symptoms of acute soroche is a very annoying,
racking cough, as violent as whooping cough and frequently accompanied
by nausoa. We had not experienced this at 17,000 feet, but now it
began to be painfully noticeable, and continued during the ensuing
days and nights, particularly nights, until we got back to the Indians'
huts again. We slept very poorly and continually awakened one another
by coughing.

The next morning we had very little appetite, no ambition, and a
miserable sense of malaise and great fatigue. There was nothing for
it but to shoulder our packs, arrange our tump-lines, and proceed with
the same steady drudgery--now a little harder than the day before. We
broke camp at half-past seven and by noon had reached an altitude
of about 20,000 feet, on a snow field within a mile of the saddle
between the great truncated peak and the rest of the range. It looked
possible to reach the summit in one more day's climb from here. The
aneroids now differed by over five hundred feet. Leaving me to pitch
the tent, the others went back to the cache to bring up some of the
supplies. Due to the fact that we were carrying loads twice as heavy
as those which Tucker and Coello had first brought up, we had not
passed their cache until to-day. By the time my companions appeared
again I was so completely rested that I marveled at the snail-like
pace they made over the nearly level snow field. It seemed incredible
that they should find it necessary to rest four times after they were
within one hundred yards of the camp.

We were none of us hungry that evening. We craved sweet tea. Before
turning in for the night we took the trouble to melt snow and make
a potful of tea which could be warmed up the first thing in the
morning. We passed another very bad night. The thermometer registered
7° F., but we did not suffer from the cold. In fact, when you stow away
four men on the floor of a 7 by 7 tent they are obliged to sleep so
close together as to keep warm. Furthermore, each man had an eiderdown
sleeping-bag, blankets, and plenty of heavy clothes and sweaters. We
did, however, suffer from soroche. Violent whooping cough assailed
us at frequent intervals. None of us slept much. I amused myself by
counting my pulse occasionally, only to find that it persistently
refused to go below 120, and if I moved would jump up to 135. I don't
know where it went on the actual climb. So far as I could determine,
it did not go below 120 for four days and nights.

On the morning of October 15th we got up at three o'clock. Hot sweet
tea was the one thing we all craved. The tea-pot was found to be
frozen solid, although it had been hung up in the tent. It took an
hour to thaw and the tea was just warm enough for practical purposes
when I made an awkward move in the crowded tent and kicked over the
tea-pot! Never did men keep their tempers better under more aggravating
circumstances. Not a word of reproach or indignation greeted my
clumsy accident, although poor Corporal Gamarra, who was lying on the
down side of the tent, had to beat a hasty retreat into the colder
(but somewhat drier) weather outside. My clumsiness necessitated
a delay of nearly an hour in starting. While we were melting more
frozen snow and re-making the tea, we warmed up some pea soup and
Irish stew. Tucker and I managed to eat a little. Coello and Gamarra
had no stomachs for anything but tea. We decided to leave the Tucker
tent at the 20,000 foot level, together with most of our outfit and
provisions. From here to the top we were to carry only such things
as were absolutely necessary. They included the Mummery tent with
pegs and poles, the mountain-mercurial barometer, the two Watkins
aneroids, the hypsometer, a pair of Zeiss glasses, two 3A kodaks,
six films, a sling psychrometer, a prismatic compass and clinometer,
a Stanley pocket level, an eighty-foot red-strand mountain rope,
three ice axes, a seven-foot flagpole, an American flag and a Yale
flag. In order to avoid disaster in case of storm, we also carried
four of Silver's self-heating cans of Irish stew and mock-turtle soup,
a cake of chocolate, and eight hard-tack, besides raisins and cubes
of sugar in our pockets. Our loads weighed about twenty pounds each.

To our great satisfaction and relief, the weather continued fine
and there was very little wind. On the preceding afternoon the snow
had been so soft one frequently went in over one's knees, but now
everything was frozen hard. We left camp at five o'clock. It was
still dark. The great dome of Coropuna loomed up on our left, cut
off from direct attack by gigantic ice falls. To reach it we must
first surmount the saddle on the main ridge. From there an apparently
unbroken slope extended to the top. Our progress was distressingly
slow, even with the light loads. When we reached the saddle there came
a painful surprise. To the north of us loomed a great snowy cone, the
peak which we had at first noticed from the Chuquibamba Calvario. Now
it actually looked higher than the dome we were about to climb! From
the Sihuas Desert, eighty miles away, the dome had certainly seemed
to be the highest point. So we stuck to our task, although constantly
facing the possibility that our painful labors might be in vain and
that eventually, this north peak would prove to be higher. We began to
doubt whether we should have strength enough for both. Loss of sleep,
soroche, and lack of appetite were rapidly undermining our endurance.

The last slope had an inclination of thirty degrees. We should have
had to cut steps with our ice axes all the way up had it not been for
our snow-creepers, which worked splendidly. As it was, not more than
a dozen or fifteen steps actually had to be cut even in the steepest
part. Tucker was first on the rope, I was second, Coello third, and
Gamarra brought up the rear. We were not a very gay party. The high
altitude was sapping all our ambition. I found that an occasional lump
of sugar acted as the best rapid restorative to sagging spirits. It was
astonishing how quickly the carbon in the sugar was absorbed by the
system and came to the relief of smoldering bodily fires. A single
cube gave new strength and vigor for several minutes. Of course,
one could not eat sugar without limit, but it did help to tide over
difficult places.

We zigzagged slowly up, hour after hour, alternately resting and
climbing, until we were about to reach what seemed to be the top,
obviously, alas, not as high as our enemy to the north. Just then
Tucker gave a great shout. The rest of us were too much out of breath
to ask him why he was wasting his strength shouting. When at last we
painfully came to the edge of what looked like the summit we saw the
cause of his joy. There, immediately ahead of us, lay another slope
three hundred feet higher than where we were standing. It may seem
strange that in our weakened condition we should have been glad to
find that we had three hundred feet more to climb. Remember, however,
that all the morning we had been gazing with dread at that aggravating
north peak. Whenever we had had a moment to give to the consideration
of anything but the immediate difficulties of our climb our hearts
had sunk within us at the thought that possibly, after all, we might
find the north peak higher. The fact that there lay before us another
three hundred feet, which would undoubtedly take us above the highest
point of that aggravating north peak, was so very much the less of
two possible evils that we understood Tucker's shout. Yet none of us
was lusty enough to echo it.

With faint smiles and renewed courage we pegged along, resting on
our ice axes, as usual, every twenty-five steps until at last, at
half-past eleven, after six hours and a half of climbing from the
20,000-foot camp, we reached the culminating point of Coropuna. As
we approached it, Tucker, although naturally much elated at having
successfully engineered the first ascent of this great mountain,
stopped and with extraordinary courtesy and self-abnegation smilingly
motioned me to go ahead in order that the director of the Expedition
might be actually the first person to reach the culminating point. In
order to appreciate how great a sacrifice he was willing to make,
it should be stated that his willingness to come on the Expedition
was due chiefly to a fondness for mountain climbing and his desire
to add Coropuna to his sheaf of victories. Greatly as I appreciated
his kindness in making way for me, I could only acquiesce in so far
as to continue the climb by his side. We reached the top together,
and sank down to rest and look about.


The Camp on the Summit of Coropuna Elevation, 21,703 Feet


One of the Frequent Rests in the Ascent of Coropuna

The truncated summit is an oval-shaped snow field, almost flat,
having an area of nearly half an acre, about 100 feet north and
south and 175 feet east and west. If it once were, as we suppose, a
volcanic crater, the pit had long since been filled up with snow and
ice. There were no rocks to be seen on the rim--only the hard crust of
the glistening white surface. The view from the top was desolate in
the extreme. We were in the midst of a great volcanic desert dotted
with isolated peaks covered with snow and occasional glaciers. Not
an atom of green was to be seen anywhere. Apparently we stood on
top of a dead world. Mountain climbers in the Andes have frequently
spoken of seeing condors at great altitudes. We saw none. Northwest,
twenty miles away across the Pampa Colorada, a reddish desert, rose
snow-capped Solimana. In the other direction we looked along the
range of Coropuna itself; several of the lesser peaks being only a
few hundred feet below our elevation. Far to the southwest we imagined
we could see the faint blue of the Pacific Ocean, but it was very dim.

My father was an ardent mountain climber, glorying not only in the
difficulties of the ascent, but particularly in the satisfaction coming
from the magnificent view to be obtained at the top. His zeal had
led him once, in winter, to ascend the highest peak in the Pacific,
Mauna Kea on Hawaii. He taught me as a boy to be fond of climbing
the mountains of Oahu and Maui and to be appreciative of the views
which could be obtained by such expenditure of effort. Yet now I
could not take the least interest or pleasure in the view from the
top of Coropuna, nor could my companions. No sense of satisfaction
in having attained a difficult objective cheered us up. We all felt
greatly depressed and said little, although Gamarra asked for his
bonus and regarded the gold coins with grim complacency.

After we had rested awhile we began to take observations. Unslinging
the aneroid which I had been carrying, I found to my surprise and
dismay that the needle showed a height of only 21,525 feet above
sea level. Tucker's aneroid read more than a thousand feet higher,
22,550 feet, but even this fell short of Raimondi's estimate of
22,775 feet, and considerably below Bandelier's "23,000 feet." This
was a keen disappointment, for we had hoped that the aneroids would
at least show a margin over the altitude of Mt. Aconcagua, 22,763
feet. This discovery served to dampen our spirits still further. We
took what comfort we could from the fact that the aneroids, which
had checked each other perfectly up to 17,000 feet, were now so
obviously untrustworthy. We could only hope that both might prove
to be inaccurate, as actually happened, and that both might now
be reading too low. Anyhow, the north peak did look lower than we
were. To satisfy any doubts on this subject, Tucker took the wooden
box in which we had brought the hypsometer, laid it on the snow,
leveled it up carefully with the Stanley pocket level, and took a
squint over it toward the north peak. He smiled and said nothing. So
each of us in turn lay down in the snow and took a squint. It was
all right. We were at least 250 feet higher than that aggravating peak.

We were also 450 feet higher than the east peak of Coropuna, and
a thousand feet higher than any other mountain in sight. At any
rate, we should not have to call upon our fast-ebbing strength for
any more hard climbs in the immediate future. After arriving at
this satisfactory conclusion we pitched the little Mummery tent,
set up the tripod for the mercurial barometer, arranged the boiling
point thermometer with its apparatus, and with the aid of kodaks and
notebooks proceeded to take as many observations as possible in the
next four hours. At two o'clock we read the mercurial, knowing that
at the same hour readings were being made by Watkins at the Base Camp
and by the Harvard astronomers in the Observatory at Arequipa. The
barometer was suspended from a tripod set up in the shade of the
tent. The mercury, which at sea level often stands at 31 inches, now
stood at 13.838 inches. The temperature of the thermometer on the
barometer was exactly +32° F. At the same time, inside the tent we
got the water to boiling and took a reading with the hypsometer. Water
boils at sea level at a temperature of 212° F. Here it boiled at 174°
F. After taking the reading we greedily drank the water which had been
heated for the hypsometer. We were thirsty enough to have drunk five
times as much. We were not hungry, and made no use of our provisions
except a few raisins, some sugar, and chocolate.

After completing our observations, we fastened the little tent
as securely as possible, banking the snow around it, and left it
on top, first having placed in it one of the Appalachian Mountain
Club's brass record cylinders, in which we had sealed the Yale flag,
a contemporary map of Peru, and two brief statements regarding the
ascent. The American flag was left flying from a nine-foot pole,
which we planted at the northwest rim of the dome, where it could
be seen from the road to Cotahuasi. Here Mr. Casimir Watkins saw
it a week later and Dr. Isaiah Bowman two weeks later. When Chief
Topographer Hendriksen arrived three weeks later to make his survey,
it had disappeared. Probably a severe storm had blown it over and
buried it in the snow.

We left the summit at three o'clock and arrived at the 20,000 foot camp
two hours and fifteen minutes later. The first part of the way down
to the saddle we attempted a glissade. Then the slope grew steeper and
we got up too much speed for comfort, so we finally had to be content
with a slower method of locomotion. That night there was very little
wind. Mountain climbers have more to fear from excessively high winds
than almost any other cause. We were very lucky. Nothing occurred
to interfere with the best progress we were physically capable of
making. It turned out that we did not need to have brought so many
supplies with us. In fact, it is an open question whether our acute
mountain-sickness would have permitted us to outlast a long storm,
or left us enough appetite to use the provisions. Although one does
get accustomed to high altitudes, we felt very doubtful. No one in
the Western Hemisphere had ever made night camps at 20,000 feet or
pitched a tent as high as the summit of Coropuna. The severity of
mountain-sickness differs greatly in different localities, apparently
not depending entirely on the altitude. I do not know how long we could
have stood it. It is difficult to believe that with strength enough
to achieve the climb we should have felt as weak and ill as we did.

That night, although we were very weary, none of us slept much. The
violent whooping cough continued and all of us were nauseated again
in the morning. We felt so badly and were able to take so little
nourishment that it was determined to get to a lower altitude as
fast as possible. To lighten our loads we left behind some of our
supplies. We broke camp at 9:20. Eighteen minutes later, without
having to rest, the cache was reached and the few remnants were picked
up. Although many things had been abandoned, our loads seemed heavier
than ever. We had some difficulty in negotiating the crevasses, but
Gamarra was the only one actually to fall in, and he was easily pulled
out again. About noon we heard a faint halloo, and finally made out two
animated specks far down the mountain side. The effect of again seeing
somebody from the outside world was rather curious. I had a choking
sensation. Tucker, who led the way, told me long afterward that he
could not keep the tears from running down his cheeks, although we
did not see it at the time. The "specks" turned out to be Watkins
and an Indian boy, who came up as high as was safe without ropes or
crampons, and relieved us of some weight. The Base Camp was reached
at half-past twelve. One of the first things Tucker did on returning
was to weigh all the packs. To my surprise and disgust I learned that
on the way down Tucker, afraid that some of us would collapse, had
carried sixty-one pounds, and Gamarra sixty-four, while he had given
me only thirty-one pounds, and the same to Coello. This, of course,
does not include the weight of our ice-creepers, axes, or rope.

The next day all of us felt very tired and drowsy. In fact, I was
almost overcome with inertia. It was a fearful task even to lift one's
hand. The sun had burned our faces terribly. Our lips were painfully
swollen. We coughed and whooped. It seemed best to make every effort
to get back to a still lower altitude for the mules. So we broke camp,
got the loads ready without waiting, put our sleeping-bags and blankets
on our backs, and went rapidly down to the Indians' huts. Immediately
our malaise left us. We felt physically stronger. We took deep breaths
as though we had gotten back to sea level. There was no sensation
of oppression on the chest. Yet we were still actually higher than
the top of Pike's Peak. We could move rapidly about without getting
out of breath; the aggravating "whooping cough" left us; and our
appetites returned. To be sure, we still suffered from the effects
of snow and sun. On the ascent I had been very thirsty and foolishly
had allowed myself to eat a considerable amount of snow. As a result
my tongue was now so extremely sensitive that pieces of soda biscuit
tasted like broken glass. Corporal Gamarra, who had been unwilling
to keep his snow-glasses always in place and thought to relieve his
eyes by frequently dispensing with them, now suffered from partial
snow-blindness. The rest of us were spared any inflammation of the
eyes. There followed two days of resting and waiting. Then the smiling
arrieros, surprised and delighted at seeing us alive again after our
adventure with Coropuna, arrived with our mules. The Tejadas gave us
hearty embraces and promptly went off up to the snow line to get the
loads. The next day we returned to Chuquibamba.

In November Chief Topographer Hendriksen completed his survey and
found the latitude of Coropuna to be 15° 31' South, and the longitude
to be 72° 42' 40'' West of Greenwich. He computed its altitude to be
21,703 feet above sea level. The result of comparing the readings of
our mercurial barometer, taken at the summit, with the simultaneous
readings taken at Arequipa gave practically the same figures. There
was less than sixty feet difference between the two. Although Coropuna
proves to be thirteen hundred feet lower than Bandelier's estimate,
and a thousand feet lower than the highest mountain in South America,
still it is a thousand feet higher than the highest mountain in
North America. While we were glad we were the first to reach the top,
we all agreed we would never do it again!


To Parinacochas

After a few days in the delightful climate of Chuquibamba we set
out for Parinacochas, the "Flamingo Lake" of the Incas. The late Sir
Clements Markham, literary and historical successor of the author of
"The Conquest of Peru," had called attention to this unexplored lake
in one of the publications of the Royal Geographical Society, and had
named a bathymetric survey of Parinacochas as one of the principal
desiderata for future exploration in Peru. So far as one could judge
from the published maps Parinacochas, although much smaller than
Titicaca, was the largest body of water entirely in Peru. A thorough
search of geographical literature failed to reveal anything regarding
its depth. The only thing that seemed to be known about it was that it
had no outlet. General William Miller, once British consul general in
Honolulu, who had as a young man assisted General San Martin in the
Wars for the Independence of Chile and Peru, published his memoirs
in London in 1828. During the campaigns against the Spanish forces
in Peru he had had occasion to see many out-of-the-way places in the
interior. On one of his rough sketch maps he indicates the location of
Lake Parinacochas and notes the fact that the water is "brackish." This
statement of General Miller's and the suggestion of Sir Clements
Markham that a bathymetric survey of the lake would be an important
contribution to geographical knowledge was all that we were able to
learn. Our arrieros, the Tejadas, had never been to Parinacochas,
but knew in a general way its location and were not afraid to try to
get there. Some of their friends had been there and come back alive!

First, however, it was necessary for us to go to Cotahuasi, the
capital of the Province of Antabamba, and meet Dr. Bowman and
Mr. Hendriksen, who had slowly been working their way across the
Andes from the Urubamba Valley, and who would need a new supply of
food-boxes if they were to complete the geographical reconnaissance
of the 73d meridian. Our route led us out of the Chuquibamba Valley
by a long, hard climb up the steep cliffs at its head and then over
the gently sloping, semi-arid desert in a northerly direction, around
the west flanks of Coropuna. When we stopped to make camp that night
on the Pampa of Chumpillo, our arrieros used dried moss and dung for
fuel for the camp fire. There was some bunch-grass, and there were
llamas pasturing on the plains. Near our tent were some Inca ruins,
probably the dwelling of a shepherd chief, or possibly the remains
of a temple described by Cieza de Leon (1519-1560), whose remarkable
accounts of what he saw and learned in Peru during the time of the
Pizarros are very highly regarded. He says that among the five most
important temples in the Land of the Incas was one "much venerated and
frequented by them, named Coropuna." "It is on a very lofty mountain
which is covered with snow both in summer and winter. The kings
of Peru visited this temple making presents and offerings .... It
is held for certain [by treasure hunters!] that among the gifts
offered to this temple there were many loads of silver, gold, and
precious stones buried in places which are now unknown. The Indians
concealed another great sum which was for the service of the idol,
and of the priests and virgins who attended upon it. But as there
are great masses of snow, people do not ascend to the summit, nor is
it known where these are hidden. This temple possessed many flocks,
farms, and service of Indians." No one lives here now, but there are
many flocks and llamas, and not far away we saw ancient storehouses
and burial places. That night we suffered from intense cold and were
kept awake by the bitter wind which swept down from the snow fields
of Coropuna and shook the walls of our tent violently.

The next day we crossed two small oases, little gulches watered from
the melting snow of Coropuna. Here there was an abundance of peat
and some small gnarled trees from which Chuquibamba derives part of
its fuel supply. We climbed slowly around the lower spurs of Coropuna
into a bleak desert wilderness of lava blocks and scoriaceous sand,
the Red Desert, or Pampa Colorada. It is for the most part between
15,000 and 16,000 feet above sea level, and is bounded on the northwest
by the canyon of the Rio Arma, 2000 feet deep, where we made our camp
and passed a more agreeable night. The following morning we climbed
out again on the farther side of the canyon and skirted the eastern
slopes of Mt. Solimana. Soon the trail turned abruptly to the left,
away from our old friend Coropuna.

We wondered how long ago our mountain was an active volcano. To-day,
less than two hundred miles south of here are live peaks, like El
Misti and Ubinas, which still smolder occasionally and have been
known in the memory of man to give forth great showers of cinders
covering a wide area. Possibly not so very long ago the great
truncated peak of Coropuna was formed by a last flickering of the
ancient fires. Dr. Bowman says that the greater part of the vast
accumulation of lavas and volcanic cinders in this vicinity goes
far back to a period preceding the last glacial epoch. The enormous
amount of erosion that has taken place in the adjacent canyons and
the great numbers of strata, composed of lava flows, laid bare by
the mighty streams of the glacial period all point to this conclusion.

My saddle mule was one of those cantankerous beasts that are gentle
enough as long as they are allowed to have their own way. In her
case this meant that she was happy only when going along close to
her friends in the caravan. If reined in, while I took some notes,
she became very restive, finally whirling around, plunging and
kicking. Contrariwise, no amount of spurring or lashing with a stout
quirt availed to make her go ahead of her comrades. This morning I
was particularly anxious to get a picture of our pack train jogging
steadily along over the desert, directly away from Coropuna. Since
my mule would not gallop ahead, I had to dismount, run a couple of
hundred yards ahead of the rapidly advancing animals and take the
picture before they reached me. We were now at an elevation of 16,000
feet above sea level. Yet to my surprise and delight I found that it
was relatively as easy to run here as anywhere, so accustomed had my
lungs and heart become to very rarefied air. Had I attempted such
a strenuous feat at a similar altitude before climbing Coropuna it
would have been physically impossible. Any one who has tried to run
two hundred yards at three miles above sea level will understand.

We were still in a very arid region; mostly coarse black sand and
pebbles, with typical desert shrubs and occasional bunches of tough
grass. The slopes of Mt. Solimana on our left were fairly well covered
with sparse vegetation. Among the bushes we saw a number of vicuñas,
the smallest wild camels of the New World. We tried in vain to get
near enough for a photograph. They were extremely timid and scampered
away before we were within three hundred yards.

Seven or eight miles more of very gradual downward slope brought
us suddenly and unexpectedly to the brink of a magnificent canyon,
the densely populated valley of Cotahuasi. The walls of the canyon
were covered with innumerable terraces--thousands of them. It seemed
at first glance as though every available spot in the canyon had been
either terraced or allotted to some compact little village. One could
count more than a score of towns, including Cotahuasi itself, its long
main street outlined by whitewashed houses. As we zigzagged down into
the canyon our road led us past hundreds of the artificial terraces
and through little villages of thatched huts huddled together on spurs
rescued from the all-embracing agriculture. After spending several
weeks in a desert region, where only the narrow valley bottoms showed
any signs of cultivation, it seemed marvelous to observe the extent
to which terracing had been carried on the side of the Cotahuasi
Valley. Although we were now in the zone of light annual rains, it
was evident from the extraordinary irrigation system that agriculture
here depends very largely on ability to bring water down from the
great mountains in the interior. Most of the terraces and irrigation
canals were built centuries ago, long before the discovery of America.

No part of the ancient civilization of Peru has been more admired
than the development of agriculture. Mr. Cook says that there is no
part of the world in which more pains have been taken to raise crops
where nature made it hard for them to be planted. In other countries,
to be sure, we find reclamation projects, where irrigation canals serve
to bring water long distances to be used on arid but fruitful soil. We
also find great fertilizer factories turning out, according to proper
chemical formula, the needed constituents to furnish impoverished soils
with the necessary materials for plant growth. We find man overcoming
many obstacles in the way of transportation, in order to reach great
regions where nature has provided fertile fields and made it easy to
raise life-giving crops. Nowhere outside of Peru, either in historic or
prehistoric times, does one find farmers spending incredible amounts
of labor in actually creating arable fields, besides bringing the
water to irrigate them and the guano to fertilize them; yet that
is what was done by the ancient highlanders of Peru. As they spread
over a country in which the arable flat land was usually at so great
an elevation as to be suitable for only the hardiest of root crops,
like the white potato and the oca, they were driven to use narrow
valley bottoms and steep, though fertile, slopes in order to raise the
precious maize and many of the other temperate and tropical plants
which they domesticated for food and medicinal purposes. They were
constantly confronted by an extraordinary scarcity of soil. In the
valley bottoms torrential rivers, meandering from side to side, were
engaged in an endless endeavor to tear away the arable land and bear
it off to the sea. The slopes of the valleys were frequently so very
steep as to discourage the most ardent modern agriculturalist. The
farmer might wake up any morning to find that a heavy rain during
the night had washed away a large part of his carefully planted
fields. Consequently there was developed, through the centuries,
a series of stone-faced andenes, terraces or platforms.

Examination of the ancient andenes discloses the fact that they were
not made by simply hoeing in the earth from the hillside back of a
carefully constructed stone wall. The space back of the walls was
first filled in with coarse rocks, clay, and rubble; then followed
smaller rocks, pebbles, and gravel, which would serve to drain the
subsoil. Finally, on top of all this, and to a depth of eighteen
inches or so, was laid the finest soil they could procure. The
result was the best possible field for intensive cultivation. It
seems absolutely unbelievable that such an immense amount of pains
should have been taken for such relatively small results. The need
must have been very great. In many cases the terraces are only a few
feet wide, although hundreds of yards in length. Usually they follow
the natural contours of the valley. Sometimes they are two hundred
yards wide and a quarter of a mile long. To-day corn, barley, and
alfalfa are grown on the terraces.

Cotahuasi itself lies in the bottom of the valley, a pleasant place
where one can purchase the most fragrant and highly prized of all
Peruvian wines. The climate is agreeable, and has attracted many
landlords, whose estates lie chiefly on the bleak plateaus of the
surrounding highlands, where shepherds tend flocks of llamas, sheep,
and alpacas.

We were cordially welcomed by Señor Viscarra, the sub-prefect, and
invited to stay at his house. He was a stranger to the locality, and,
as the visible representative of a powerful and far-away central
government, was none too popular with some of the people of his
province. Very few residents of a provincial capital like Cotahuasi
have ever been to Lima;--probably not a single member of the Lima
government had ever been to Cotahuasi. Consequently one could not
expect to find much sympathy between the two. The difficulties of
traveling in Peru are so great as to discourage pleasure trips. With
our letters of introduction and the telegrams that had preceded us
from the prefect at Arequipa, we were known to be friends of the
government and so were doubly welcome to the sub-prefect. By nature a
kind and generous man, of more than usual education and intelligence,
Señor Viscarra showed himself most courteous and hospitable to us in
every particular. In our honor he called together his friends. They
brought pictures of Theodore Roosevelt and Elihu Root, and made a
large American flag; a courtesy we deeply appreciated, even if the
flag did have only thirty-six stars. Finally, they gave us a splendid
banquet as a tribute of friendship for America.

One day the sub-prefect offered to have his personal barber attend
us. It was some time since Mr. Tucker and I had seen a barber-shop. The
chances were that we should find none at Parinacochas. Consequently we
accepted with pleasure. When the barber arrived, closely guarded by a
gendarme armed with a loaded rifle, we learned that he was a convict
from the local jail! I did not like to ask the nature of his crime,
but he looked like a murderer. When he unwrapped an ancient pair of
clippers from an unspeakably soiled and oily rag, I wished I was in
a position to decline to place myself under his ministrations. The
sub-prefect, however, had been so kind and was so apologetic as to
the inconveniences of the "barber-shop" that there was nothing for it
but to go bravely forward. Although it was unpleasant to have one's
hair trimmed by an uncertain pair of rusty clippers, I could not
help experiencing a feeling of relief that the convict did not have a
pair of shears. He was working too near my jugular vein. Finally the
period of torture came to an end, and the prisoner accepted his fees
with a profound salutation. We breathed sighs of relief, not unmixed
with sympathy, as we saw him marched safely away by the gendarme.

We had arrived in Cotahuasi almost simultaneously with Dr. Bowman and
Topographer Hendriksen. They had encountered extraordinary difficulties
in carrying out the reconnaissance of the 73d meridian, but were now
past the worst of it. Their supplies were exhausted, so those which we
had brought from Arequipa were doubly welcome. Mr. Watkins was assigned
to assist Mr. Hendriksen and a few days later Dr. Bowman started south
to study the geology and geography of the desert. He took with him
as escort Corporal Gamarra, who was only too glad to escape from the
machinations of his enemies. It will be remembered that it was Gamarra
who had successfully defended the Cotahuasi barracks and jail at the
time of a revolutionary riot which occurred some months previous to
our visit. The sub-prefect accompanied Dr. Bowman out of town. For
Gamarra's sake they left the house at three o'clock in the morning
and our generous host agreed to ride with them until daybreak. In his
important monograph, "The Andes of Southern Peru," Dr. Bowman writes:
"At four o'clock our whispered arrangements were made. We opened
the gates noiselessly and our small cavalcade hurried through the
pitch-black streets of the town. The soldier rode ahead, his rifle
across his saddle, and directly behind him rode the sub-prefect and
myself. The pack mules were in the rear. We had almost reached the
end of the street when a door opened suddenly and a shower of sparks
flew out ahead of us. Instantly the soldier struck spurs into his
mule and turned into a side street. The sub-prefect drew his horse
back savagely, and when the next shower of sparks flew out pushed
me against the wall and whispered, 'For God's sake, who is it?' Then
suddenly he shouted. 'Stop blowing! Stop blowing!' "

The cause of all the disturbance was a shabby, hard-working tailor
who had gotten up at this unearthly hour to start his day's work by
pressing clothes for some insistent customer. He had in his hand
an ancient smoothing-iron filled with live coals, on which he had
been vigorously blowing. Hence the sparks! That a penitent tailor
and his ancient goose should have been able to cause such terrific
excitement at that hour in the morning would have interested our own
Oliver Wendell Holmes, who was fond of referring to this picturesque
apparatus and who might have written an appropriate essay on The Goose
that Startled the Soldier of Cotahuasi; with Particular Reference to
His Being a Possible Namesake of the Geese that Aroused the Soldiers
of Ancient Rome.


The sub-perfect of Cotahuasi, his military aide, and Messrs. Tucker,
Hendriksen, Bowman, and Bingham inspecting the local rug-weaving

The most unusual industry of Cotahuasi is the weaving of rugs and
carpets on vertical hand looms. The local carpet weavers make the warp
and woof of woolen yarn in which loops of alpaca wool, black, gray,
or white, are inserted to form the desired pattern. The loops are cut
so as to form a deep pile. The result is a delightfully thick, warm,
gray rug. Ordinarily the native Peruvian rug has no pile. Probably the
industry was brought from Europe by some Spaniard centuries ago. It
seems to be restricted to this remote region. The rug makers are a
small group of Indians who live outside the town but who carry their
hand looms from house to house, as required. It is the custom for the
person who desires a rug to buy the wool, supply the pattern, furnish
the weaver with board, lodging, coca, tobacco and wine, and watch the
rug grow from day to day under the shelter of his own roof. The rug
weavers are very clever in copying new patterns. Through the courtesy
of Señor Viscarra we eventually received several small rugs, woven
especially for us from monogram designs drawn by Mr. Hendriksen.

Early one morning in November we said good-bye to our friendly host,
and, directed by a picturesque old guide who said he knew the road to
Parinacochas, we left Cotahuasi. The highway crossed the neighboring
stream on a treacherous-looking bridge, the central pier of which
was built of the crudest kind of masonry piled on top of a gigantic
boulder in midstream. The main arch of the bridge consisted of two
long logs across which had been thrown a quantity of brush held down
by earth and stones. There was no rail on either side, but our mules
had crossed bridges of this type before and made little trouble. On
the northern side of the valley we rode through a compact little town
called Mungi and began to climb out of the canyon, passing hundreds
of very fine artificial terraces, at present used for crops of maize
and barley. In one place our road led us by a little waterfall,
an altogether surprising and unexpected phenomenon in this arid
region. Investigation, however, proved that it was artificial, as
well as the fields. Its presence may be due to a temporary connection
between the upper and lower levels of ancient irrigation canals.

Hour after hour our pack train painfully climbed the narrow, rocky
zigzag trail. The climate is favorable for agriculture. Wherever the
sides of the canyon were not absolutely precipitous, stone-faced
terraces and irrigation had transformed them long ago into arable
fields. Four thousand feet above the valley floor we came to a very
fine series of beautiful terraces. On a shelf near the top of the
canyon we pitched our tent near some rough stone corrals used by
shepherds whose flocks grazed on the lofty plateau beyond, and near
a tiny brook, which was partly frozen over the next morning. Our
camp was at an elevation of 14,500 feet above the sea. Near by were
turreted rocks, curious results of wind-and-sand erosion.

The next day we entered a region of mountain pastures. We passed
occasional swamps and little pools of snow water. From one of these
we turned and looked back across the great Cotahuasi Canyon, to the
glaciers of Solimana and snow-clad Coropuna, now growing fainter
and fainter as we went toward Parinacochas. At an altitude of 16,500
feet we struck across a great barren plateau covered with rocks and
sand--hardly a living thing in sight. In the midst of it we came to
a beautiful lake, but it was not Parinacochas. On the plateau it was
intensely cold. Occasionally I dismounted and jogged along beside my
mule in order to keep warm. Again I noticed that as the result of my
experiences on Coropuna I suffered no discomfort, nor any symptoms
of mountain-sickness, even after trotting steadily for four or five
hundred yards. In the afternoon we began to descend from the plateau
toward Lampa and found ourselves in the pasture lands of Ajochiucha,
where ichu grass and other little foliage plants, watered by rain
and snow, furnish forage for large flocks of sheep, llamas, and
alpacas. Their owners live in the cultivated valleys, but the Indian
herdsmen must face the storms and piercing winds of the high pastures.

Alpacas are usually timid. On this occasion, however, possibly
because they were thirsty and were seeking water holes in the upper
courses of a little swale, they stopped and allowed me to observe
them closely. The fleece of the alpaca is one of the softest in
the world. However, due to the fact that shrewd tradesmen, finding
that the fabric manufactured from alpaca wool was highly desired,
many years ago gave the name to a far cheaper fabric, the "alpaca"
of commerce, a material used for coat linings, umbrellas, and thin,
warm-weather coats, is a fabric of cotton and wool, with a hard
surface, and generally dyed black. It usually contains no real alpaca
wool at all, and is fairly cheap. The real alpaca wool which comes into
the market to-day is not so called. Long and silky, straighter than
the sheep's wool, it is strong, small of fiber, very soft, pliable and
elastic. It is capable of being woven into fabrics of great beauty and
comfort. Many of the silky, fluffy, knitted garments that command the
highest prices for winter wear, and which are called by various names,
such as "vicuña," "camel's hair," etc., are really made of alpaca.

The alpaca, like its cousin, the llama, was probably domesticated by
the early Peruvians from the wild guanaco, largest of the camels of the
New World. The guanaco still exists in a wild state and is always of
uniform coloration. Llamas and alpacas are extremely variegated. The
llama has so coarse a hair that it is seldom woven into cloth for
wearing apparel, although heavy blankets made from it are in use by
the natives. Bred to be a beast of burden, the llama is accustomed to
the presence of strangers and is not any more timid of them than our
horses and cows. The alpaca, however, requiring better and scarcer
forage--short, tender grass and plenty of water--frequents the most
remote and lofty of the mountain pastures, is handled only when the
fleece is removed, seldom sees any one except the peaceful shepherds,
and is extremely shy of strangers, although not nearly as timid as its
distant cousin the vicuña. I shall never forget the first time I ever
saw some alpacas. They looked for all the world like the "woolly-dogs"
of our toys shops--woolly along the neck right up to the eyes and
woolly along the legs right down to the invisible wheels! There was
something inexpressibly comic about these long-legged animals. They
look like toys on wheels, but actually they can gallop like cows.

The llama, with far less hair on head, neck, and legs, is also amusing,
but in a different way. His expression is haughty and supercilious
in the extreme. He usually looks as though his presence near one is
due to circumstances over which he really had no control. Pride of
race and excessive haughtiness lead him to carry his head so high
and his neck so stiffly erect that he can be corralled, with others
of his kind, by a single rope passed around the necks of the entire
group. Yet he can be bought for ten dollars.

On the pasture lands of Ajochiucha there were many ewes and lambs,
both of llamas and alpacas. Even the shepherds were mostly children,
more timid than their charges. They crouched inconspicuously behind
rocks and shrubs, endeavoring to escape our notice. About five o'clock
in the afternoon, on a dry pampa, we found the ruins of one of the
largest known Inca storehouses, Chichipampa, an interesting reminder
of the days when benevolent despots ruled the Andes and, like the
Pharaohs of old, provided against possible famine. The locality is
not occupied, yet near by are populous valleys.

As soon as we left our camp the next morning, we came abruptly to the
edge of the Lampa Valley. This was another of the mile-deep canyons
so characteristic of this region. Our pack mules grunted and groaned
as they picked their way down the corkscrew trail. It overhangs the
mud-colored Indian town of Colta, a rather scattered collection of
a hundred or more huts. Here again, as in the Cotahuasi Valley, are
hundreds of ancient terraces, extending for thousands of feet up the
sides of the canyon. Many of them were badly out of repair, but those
near Colta were still being used for raising crops of corn, potatoes,
and barley. The uncultivated spots were covered with cacti, thorn
bushes, and the gnarled, stunted trees of a semi-arid region. In the
town itself were half a dozen specimens of the Australian eucalyptus,
that agreeable and extraordinarily successful colonist which one
encounters not only in the heart of Peru, but in the Andes of Colombia
and the new forest preserves of California and the Hawaiian Islands.


Inca Storehouses at Chinchipampa, near Colta

Colta has a few two-storied houses, with tiled roofs. Some of them
have open verandas on the second floor--a sure indication that the
climate is at times comfortable. Their walls are built of sun-dried
adobe, and so are the walls of the little grass-thatched huts of the
majority. Judging by the rather irregular plan of the streets and
the great number of terraces in and around town, one may conclude
that Colta goes far back of the sixteenth century and the days of
the Spanish Conquest, as indeed do most Peruvian towns. The cities
of Lima and Arequipa are noteworthy exceptions. Leaving Colta,
we wound around the base of the projecting ridge, on the sides of
which were many evidences of ancient culture, and came into the
valley of Huancahuanca, a large arid canyon. The guide said that we
were nearing Parinacochas. Not many miles away, across two canyons,
was a snow-capped peak, Sarasara.

Lampa, the chief town in the Huancahuanca Canyon, lies on a great
natural terrace of gravel and alluvium more than a thousand feet
above the river. Part of the terrace seemed to be irrigated and
under cultivation. It was proposed by the energetic farmers at
the time of our visit to enlarge the system of irrigation so as to
enable them to cultivate a larger part of the pampa on which they
lived. In fact, the new irrigation scheme was actually in process of
being carried out and has probably long since been completed. Our
reception in Lampa was not cordial. It will be remembered that
our military escort, Corporal Gamarra, had gone back to Arequipa
with Dr. Bowman. Our two excellent arrieros, the Tejada brothers,
declared they preferred to travel without any "brass buttons,"
so we had not asked the sub-prefect of Cotahuasi to send one of
his small handful of gendarmes along with us. Probably this was a
mistake. Unless one is traveling in Peru on some easily understood
matter, such as prospecting for mines or representing one of the
great importing and commission houses, or actually peddling goods,
one cannot help arousing the natural suspicions of a people to whom
traveling on muleback for pleasure is unthinkable, and scientific
exploration for its own sake is incomprehensible. Of course, if the
explorers arrive accompanied by a gendarme it is perfectly evident
that the enterprise has the approval and probably the financial
backing of the government. It is surmised that the explorers are
well paid, and what would be otherwise inconceivable becomes merely
one of the ordinary experiences of life. South American governments
almost without exception are paternalistic, and their citizens are
led to expect that all measures connected with research, whether it be
scientific, economic, or social, are to be conducted by the government
and paid for out of the national treasury. Individual enterprise is
not encouraged. During all my preceding exploration in Peru I had
had such an easy time that I not only forgot, but failed to realize,
how often an ever-present gendarme, provided through the courtesy of
President Leguia's government, had quieted suspicions and assured us
a cordial welcome.

Now, however, when without a gendarme we entered the smart little
town of Lampa, we found ourselves immediately and unquestionably the
objects of extreme suspicion and distrust. Yet we could not help
admiring the well-swept streets, freshly whitewashed houses, and
general air of prosperity and enterprise. The gobernador of the town
lived on the main street in a red-tiled house, whose courtyard and
colonnade were probably two hundred years old. He had heard nothing
of our undertaking from the government. His friends urged him to take
some hostile action. Fortunately, our arrieros, respectable men of high
grade, although strangers in Lampa, were able to allay his suspicions
temporarily. We were not placed under arrest, although I am sure
his action was not approved by the very suspicious town councilors,
who found it far easier to suggest reasons for our being fugitives
from justice than to understand the real object of our journey.

The very fact that we were bound for Lake Parinacochas, a place well
known in Lampa, added to their suspicion. It seems that Lampa is famous
for its weavers, who utilize the wool of the countless herds of sheep,
alpacas, and vicuñas in this vicinity to make ponchos and blankets
of high grade, much desired not only in this locality but even in
Arequipa. These are marketed, as so often happens in the outlying
parts of the world, at a great annual fair, attended by traders who
come hundreds of miles, bringing the manufactured articles of the
outer world and seeking the highly desired products of these secluded
towns. The great fair for this vicinity has been held, for untold
generations, on the shores of Lake Parinacochas. Every one is anxious
to attend the fair, which is an occasion for seeing one's friends, an
opportunity for jollification, carousing, and general enjoyment--like a
large county fair at home. Except for this annual fair week, the basin
of Parinacochas is as bleak and desolate as our own fair-grounds,
with scarcely a house to be seen except those that are used for the
purposes of the fair. Had we been bound for Parinacochas at the proper
season nothing could have been more reasonable and praiseworthy. Why
anybody should want to go to Parinacochas during one of the other
fifty-one weeks in the year was utterly beyond the comprehension
or understanding of these village worthies. So, to our "selectmen,"
are the idiosyncrasies of itinerant gypsies who wish to camp in our
deserted fair-grounds.

The Tejadas were not anxious to spend the night in town--probably
because, according to our contract, the cost of feeding the mules
devolved entirely upon them and fodder is always far more expensive
in town than in the country. It was just as well for us that this
was so, for I am sure that before morning the village gossips would
have persuaded the gobernador to arrest us. As it was, however, he was
pleasant and hospitable, and considerably amused at the embarrassment
of an Indian woman who was weaving at a hand loom in his courtyard
and whom we desired to photograph. She could not easily escape, for
she was sitting on the ground with one end of the loom fastened around
her waist, the other end tied to a eucalyptus tree. So she covered her
eyes and mouth with her hands, and almost wept with mortification at
our strange procedure. Peruvian Indian women are invariably extremely
shy, rarely like to be photographed, and are anxious only to escape
observation and notice. The ladies of the gobernador's own family,
however, of mixed Spanish and Indian ancestry, not only had no
objection to being photographed, but were moved to unseemly and
unsympathetic laughter at the predicament of their unfortunate sister.

After leaving Lampa we found ourselves on the best road that we
had seen in a long time. Its excellence was undoubtedly due to the
enterprise and energy of the people of this pleasant town. One might
expect that citizens who kept their town so clean and neat and were
engaged in the unusual act of constructing new irrigation works would
have a comfortable road in the direction toward which they usually
would wish to go, namely, toward the coast.

As we climbed out of the Huancahuanca Valley we noticed no evidences
of ancient agricultural terraces, either on the sides of the valley
or on the alluvial plain which has given rise to the town of Lampa
and whose products have made its people well fed and energetic. The
town itself seems to be of modern origin. One wonders why there are so
few, if any, evidences of the ancient régime when there are so many
a short distance away in Colta and the valley around it. One cannot
believe that the Incas would have overlooked such a fine agricultural
opportunity as an extensive alluvial terrace in a region where there
is so little arable land. Possibly the very excellence of the land
and its relative flatness rendered artificial terracing unnecessary
in the minds of the ancient people who lived here. On the other hand,
it may have been occupied until late Inca times by one of the coast
tribes. Whatever the cause, certainly the deep canyon of Huancahuanca
divides two very different regions. To come in a few hours, from
thickly terraced Colta to unterraced Lampa was so striking as to give
us cause for thought and speculation. It is well known that in the
early days before the Inca conquest of Peru, not so very long before
the Spanish Conquest, there were marked differences between the tribes
who inhabited the high plateau and those who lived along the shore
of the Pacific. Their pottery is as different as possible in design
and ornamentation; the architecture of their cities and temples is
absolutely distinct. Relative abundance of flat lands never led them
to develop terracing to the same extent that the mountain people had
done. Perhaps on this alluvial terrace there lived a remnant of the
coastal peoples. Excavation would show.

Scarcely had we climbed out of the valley of Huancahuanca and
surmounted the ridge when we came in sight of more artificial
terraces. Beyond a broad, deep valley rose the extinct volcanic cone of
Mt. Sarasara, now relatively close at hand, its lower slopes separated
from us by another canyon. Snow lay in the gulches and ravines near
the top of the mountain. Our road ran near the towns of Pararca
and Colcabamba, the latter much like Colta, a straggling village of
thatched huts surrounded by hundreds of terraces. The vegetation on
the valley slopes indicated occasional rains. Near Pararca we passed
fields of barley and wheat growing on old stone-faced terraces. On
every hand were signs of a fairly large population engaged in
agriculture, utilizing fields which had been carefully prepared
for them by their ancestors. They were not using all, however. We
noticed hundreds of terraces that did not appear to have been under
cultivation recently. They may have been lying fallow temporarily.

Our arrieros avoided the little towns, and selected a camp site on the
roadside near the Finca Rodadero. After all, when one has a comfortable
tent, good food, and skillful arrieros it is far pleasanter to spend
the night in the clean, open country, even at an elevation of 12,000
or 13,000 feet, than to be surrounded by the smells and noises of an
Indian town.

The next morning we went through some wheat fields, past the town
of Puyusca, another large Indian village of thatched adobe houses
placed high on the shoulder of a rocky hill so as to leave the
best arable land available for agriculture. It is in a shallow,
well-watered valley, full of springs. The appearance of the country
had changed entirely since we left Cotahuasi. The desert and its
steep-walled canyons seemed to be far behind us. Here was a region of
gently sloping hills, covered with terraces, where the cereals of the
temperate zone appeared to be easily grown. Finally, leaving the grain
fields, we climbed up to a shallow depression in the low range at the
head of the valley and found ourselves on the rim of a great upland
basin more than twenty miles across. In the center of the basin was
a large, oval lake. Its borders were pink. The water in most of the
lake was dark blue, but near the shore the water was pink, a light
salmon-pink. What could give it such a curious color? Nothing but
flamingoes, countless thousands of flamingoes--Parinacochas at last!


Flamingo Lake

The Parinacochas Basin is at an elevation of between 11,500 and
12,000 feet above sea level. It is about 150 miles northwest of
Arequipa and 170 miles southwest of Cuzco, and enjoys a fair amount
of rainfall. The lake is fed by springs and small streams. In past
geological times the lake, then very much larger, had an outlet not
far from the town of Puyusca. At present Parinacochas has no visible
outlet. It is possible that the large springs which we noticed as we
came up the valley by Puyusca may be fed from the lake. On the other
hand, we found numerous small springs on the very borders of the lake,
generally occurring in swampy hillocks--built up perhaps by mineral
deposits--three or four feet higher than the surrounding plain. There
are very old beach marks well above the shore. The natives told us that
in the wet season the lake was considerably higher than at present,
although we could find no recent evidence to indicate that it had
been much more than a foot above its present level. Nevertheless a
rise of a foot would enlarge the area of the lake considerably.

When making preparations in New Haven for the "bathymetric survey of
Lake Parinacochas," suggested by Sir Clements Markham, we found it
impossible to discover any indication in geographical literature as
to whether the depth of the lake might be ten feet or ten thousand
feet. We decided to take a chance on its not being more than ten
hundred feet. With the kind assistance of Mr. George Bassett, I secured
a thousand feet of stout fish line, known to anglers as "24 thread,"
wound on a large wooden reel for convenience in handling. While we
were at Chuquibamba Mr. Watkins had spent many weary hours inserting
one hundred and sixty-six white and red cloth markers at six-foot
intervals in the strands of this heavy line, so that we might be able
more rapidly to determine the result in fathoms.

Arrived at a low peninsula on the north shore of the lake, Tucker
and I pitched our camp, sent our mules back to Puyusca for fodder,
and set up the Acme folding boat, which we had brought so many miles
on muleback, for the sounding operations. The "Acme" proved easy
to assemble, although this was our first experience with it. Its
lightness enabled it to be floated at the edge of the lake even in
very shallow water, and its rigidity was much appreciated in the late
afternoon when the high winds raised a vicious little "sea." Rowing
out on waters which we were told by the natives had never before
been navigated by craft of any kind, I began to take soundings. Lake
Titicaca is over nine hundred feet deep. It would be aggravating if
Lake Parinacochas should prove to be over a thousand, for I had brought
no extra line. Even nine hundred feet would make sounding slow work,
and the lake covered an area of over seventy square miles.

It was with mixed feelings of trepidation and expectation that I rowed
out five miles from shore and made a sounding. Holding the large reel
firmly in both hands, I cast the lead overboard. The reel gave a turn
or two and stopped. Something was wrong. The line did not run out. Was
the reel stuck? No, the apparatus was in perfect running order. Then
what was the matter? The bottom was too near! Alas for all the pains
that Mr. Bassett had taken to put a thousand feet of the best strong
24-thread line on one reel! Alas for Mr. Watkins and his patient
insertion of one hundred and sixty-six "fathom-markers"! The bottom of
the lake was only four feet away from the bottom of my boat! After
three or four days of strenuous rowing up and down the eighteen
miles of the lake's length, and back and forth across the seventeen
miles of its width, I never succeeded in wetting Watkins's first
marker! Several hundred soundings failed to show more than five feet of
water anywhere. Possibly if we had come in the rainy season we might
at least have wet one marker, but at the time of our visit (November,
1911), the lake had a maximum depth of 4 1/2 feet. The satisfaction of
making this slight contribution to geographic knowledge was, I fear,
lost in the chagrin of not finding a really noteworthy body of water.

Who would have thought that so long a lake could be so
shallow? However, my feelings were soothed by remembering the story of
the captain of a man-of-war who was once told that the salt lake near
one of the red hills between Honolulu and Pearl Harbor was reported
by the natives to be "bottomless." He ordered one of the ship's heavy
boats to be carried from the shore several miles inland to the salt
lake, at great expenditure of strength and labor. The story told me
in my boyhood does not say how much sounding line was brought. Anyhow,
they found this "fathomless" body of water to be not more than fifteen
feet deep.

Notwithstanding my disappointment at the depth of Parinacochas, I
was very glad that we had brought the little folding boat, for it
enabled me to float gently about among the myriads of birds which
use the shallow waters of the lake as a favorite feeding ground;
pink flamingoes, white gulls, small "divers," large black ducks,
sandpipers, black ibis, teal ducks, and large geese. On the banks
were ground owls and woodpeckers. It is not surprising that the
natives should have named this body of water "Parinacochas" (Parina =
"flamingo," cochas = "lake"). The flamingoes are here in incredible
multitudes; they far outnumber all other birds, and as I have said,
actually make the shallow waters of the lake look pink. Fortunately
they had not been hunted for their plumage and were not timid. After
two days of familiarity with the boat they were willing to let me
approach within twenty yards before finally taking wing. The coloring,
in this land of drab grays and browns, was a delight to the eye. The
head is white, the beak black, the neck white shading into salmon-pink;
the body pinkish white on the back, the breast white, and the tail
salmon-pink. The wings are salmon-pink in front, but the tips and
the under-parts are black. As they stand or wade in the water their
general appearance is chiefly pink-and-white. When they rise from the
water, however, the black under-parts of the wings become strikingly
conspicuous and cause a flock of flying flamingoes to be a wonderful
contrast in black-and-white. When flying, the flamingo seems to keep
his head moving steadily forward at an even pace, although the ropelike
neck undulates with the slow beating of the wings. I could not be sure
that it was not an optical delusion. Nevertheless, I thought the heavy
body was propelled irregularly, while the head moved forward at uniform
speed, the difference being caught up in the undulations of the neck.


Flamingos on Lake Parinacochas, and Mt. Sarasara

The flamingo is an amusing bird to watch. With its haughty Roman
nose and long, ropelike neck, which it coils and twists in a most
incredible manner, it seems specially intended to distract one's mind
from bathymetric disappointments. Its hoarse croaking, "What is it,"
"What is it," seemed to express deep-throated sympathy with the
sounding operations. On one bright moonlight night the flamingoes
were very noisy, keeping up a continual clatter of very hoarse
"What-is-it's." Apparently they failed to find out the answer in time
to go to bed at the proper time, for next morning we found them all
sound asleep, standing in quiet bays with their heads tucked under
their wings. During the course of the forenoon, when the water was
quiet, they waded far out into the lake. In the afternoon, as winds
and waves arose, they came in nearer the shores, but seldom left
the water. The great extent of shallow water in Parinacochas offers
them a splendid, wide feeding ground. We wondered where they all
came from. Apparently they do not breed here. Although there were
thousands and thousands of birds, we could find no flamingo nests,
either old or new, search as we would. It offers a most interesting
problem for some enterprising biological explorer. Probably Mr. Frank
Chapman will some day solve it.

Next in number to the flamingoes were the beautiful white gulls (or
terns?), looking strangely out of place in this Andean lake 11,500
feet above the sea. They usually kept together in flocks of several
hundred. There were quantities of small black divers in the deeper
parts of the lake where the flamingoes did not go. The divers were
very quick and keen, true individualists operating alone and showing
astonishing ability in swimming long distances under water. The large
black ducks were much more fearless than the flamingoes and were
willing to swim very near the canoe. When frightened, they raced over
the water at a tremendous pace, using both wings and feet in their
efforts to escape. These ducks kept in large flocks and were about
as common as the small divers. Here and there in the lake were a few
tiny little islands, each containing a single deserted nest, possibly
belonging to an ibis or a duck. In the banks of a low stream near
our first camp were holes made by woodpeckers, who in this country
look in vain for trees and telegraph poles.

Occasionally, a mile or so from shore, my boat would startle a great
amphibious ox standing in the water up to his middle, calmly eating
the succulent water grass. To secure it he had to plunge his head
and neck well under the surface.

While I was raising blisters and frightening oxen and flamingoes,
Mr. Tucker triangulated the Parinacochas Basin, making the first
accurate map of this vicinity. As he carried his theodolite from point
to point he often stirred up little ground owls, who gazed at him with
solemn, reproachful looks. And they were not the only individuals to
regard his activities with suspicion and dislike. Part of my work was
to construct signal stations by piling rocks at conspicuous points on
the well-rounded hills so as to enable the triangulation to proceed as
rapidly as possible. During the night some of these signal stations
would disappear, torn down by the superstitious shepherds who lived
in scattered clusters of huts and declined to have strange gods set
up in their vicinity. Perhaps they thought their pastures were being
preempted. We saw hundreds of their sheep and cattle feeding on flat
lands formerly the bed of the lake. The hills of the Parinacochas
Basin are bare of trees, and offer some pasturage. In some places they
are covered with broken rock. The grass was kept closely cropped by
the degenerate descendants of sheep brought into the country during
Spanish colonial days. They were small in size and mostly white in
color, although there were many black ones. We were told that the
sheep were worth about fifty cents apiece here.

On our first arrival at Parinacochas we were left severely alone by the
shepherds; but two days later curiosity slowly overcame their shyness,
and a group of young shepherds and shepherdesses gradually brought
their grazing flocks nearer and nearer the camp, in order to gaze
stealthily on these strange visitors, who lived in a cloth house,
actually moved over the forbidding waters of the lake, and busied
themselves from day to day with strange magic, raising and lowering
a glittering glass eye on a tripod. The women wore dresses of heavy
material, the skirts reaching halfway from knee to ankle. In lieu of
hats they had small variegated shawls, made on hand looms, folded
so as to make a pointed bonnet over the head and protect the neck
and shoulders from sun and wind. Each woman was busily spinning with
a hand spindle, but carried her baby and its gear and blankets in a
hammock or sling attached to a tump-line that went over her head. These
sling carry-alls were neatly woven of soft wool and decorated with
attractive patterns. Both women and boys were barefooted. The boys
wore old felt hats of native manufacture, and coats and long trousers
much too large for them.

At one end of the upland basin rises the graceful cone of
Mt. Sarasara. The view of its snow-capped peak reflected in the
glassy waters of the lake in the early morning was one long to be
remembered. Sarasara must once have been much higher than it is at
present. Its volcanic cone has been sharply eroded by snow and ice. In
the days of its greater altitude, and consequently wider snow fields,
the melting snows probably served to make Parinacochas a very much
larger body of water. Although we were here at the beginning of summer,
the wind that came down from the mountain at night was very cold. Our
minimum thermometer registered 22° F. near the banks of the lake at
night. Nevertheless, there was only a very thin film of ice on the
borders of the lake in the morning, and except in the most shallow
bays there was no ice visible far from the bank. The temperature of the
water at 10:00 A.M. near the shore, and ten inches below the surface,
was 61° F., while farther out it was three or four degrees warmer. By
noon the temperature of the water half a mile from shore was 67.5°
F. Shortly after noon a strong wind came up from the coast, stirring
up the shallow water and cooling it. Soon afterwards the temperature
of the water began to fall, and, although the hot sun was shining
brightly almost directly overhead, it went down to 65° by 2:30 P.M.

The water of the lake is brackish, yet we were able to make our
camps on the banks of small streams of sweet water, although in
each case near the shore of the lake. A specimen of the water,
taken near the shore, was brought back to New Haven and analyzed
by Dr. George S. Jamieson of the Sheffield Scientific School. He
found that it contained small quantities of silica, iron phosphate,
magnesium carbonate, calcium carbonate, calcium sulphate, potassium
nitrate, potassium sulphate, sodium borate, sodium sulphate, and a
considerable quantity of sodium chloride. Parinacochas water contains
more carbonate and potassium than that of the Atlantic Ocean or the
Great Salt Lake. As compared with the salinity of typical "salt"
waters, that of Lake Parinacochas occupies an intermediate position,
containing more than Lake Koko-Nor, less than that of the Atlantic,
and only one twentieth the salinity of the Great Salt Lake.

When we moved to our second camp the Tejada brothers preferred to let
their mules rest in the Puyusca Valley, where there was excellent
alfalfa forage. The arrieros engaged at their own expense a pack
train which consisted chiefly of Parinacochas burros. It is the
custom hereabouts to enclose the packs in large-meshed nets made of
rawhide which are then fastened to the pack animal by a surcingle. The
Indians who came with the burro train were pleasant-faced, sturdy
fellows, dressed in "store clothes" and straw hats. Their burros
were as cantankerous as donkeys can be, never fractious or flighty,
but stubbornly resisting, step by step, every effort to haul them
near the loads.

Our second camp was near the village of Incahuasi, "the house of the
Inca," at the northwestern corner of the basin. Raimondi visited it
in 1863. The representative of the owner of Parinacochas occupies
one of the houses. The other buildings are used only during the third
week in August, at the time of the annual fair. In the now deserted
plaza were many low stone rectangles partly covered with adobe and
ready to be converted into booths. The plaza was surrounded by long,
thatched buildings of adobe and stone, mostly of rough ashlars. A
few ashlars showed signs of having been carefully dressed by ancient
stonemasons. Some loose ashlars weighed half a ton and had baffled
the attempts of modern builders.

In constructing the large church, advantage was taken of a beautifully
laid wall of close-fitting ashlars. Incahuasi was well named; there had
been at one time an Inca house here, possibly a temple--lakes were once
objects of worship--or rest-house, constructed in order to enable the
chiefs and tax-gatherers to travel comfortably over the vast domains
of the Incas. We found the slopes of the hills of the Parinacochas
Basin to be well covered with remains of ancient terraces. Probably
potatoes and other root crops were once raised here in fairly large
quantities. Perhaps deforestation and subsequent increased aridity
might account for the desertion of these once-cultivated lands. The
hills west of the lake are intersected by a few dry gulches in which
are caves that have been used as burial places. The caves had at one
time been walled in with rocks laid in adobe, but these walls had
been partly broken down so as to permit the sepulchers to be rifled of
whatever objects of value they might have contained. We found nine or
ten skulls lying loose in the rubble of the caves. One of the skulls
seemed to have been trepanned.

On top of the ridge are the remains of an ancient road, fifty feet
wide, a broad grassy way through fields of loose stones. No effort
had been made at grading or paving this road, and there was no
evidence of its having been used in recent times. It runs from the
lake across the ridge in a westerly direction toward a broad valley,
where there are many terraces and cultivated fields; it is not far from
Nasca. Probably the stones were picked up and piled on each side to
save time in driving caravans of llamas across the stony ridges. The
llama dislikes to step over any obstacle, even a very low wall. The
grassy roadway would certainly encourage the supercilious beasts to
proceed in the desired direction.

In many places on the hills were to be seen outlines of large and
small rock circles and shelters erected by herdsmen for temporary
protection against the sudden storms of snow and hail which come
up with unexpected fierceness at this elevation (12,000 feet). The
shelters were in a very ruinous state. They were made of rough,
scoriaceous lava rocks. The circular enclosures varied from 8 to 25
feet in diameter. Most of them showed no evidences whatever of recent
occupation. The smaller walls may have been the foundation of small
circular huts. The larger walls were probably intended as corrals, to
keep alpacas and llamas from straying at night and to guard against
wolves or coyotes. I confess to being quite mystified as to the age
of these remains. It is possible that they represent a settlement
of shepherds within historic times, although, from the shape and
size of the walls, I am inclined to doubt this. The shelters may
have been built by the herdsmen of the Incas. Anyhow, those on the
hills west of Parinacochas had not been used for a long time. Nasca,
which is not very far away to the northwest, was the center of one
of the most artistic pre-Inca cultures in Peru. It is famous for its
very delicate pottery.

Our third camp was on the south side of the lake. Near us the traces
of the ancient road led to the ruins of two large, circular corrals,
substantiating my belief that this curious roadway was intended to keep
the llamas from straying at will over the pasture lands. On the south
shores of the lake there were more signs of occupation than on the
north, although there is nothing so clearly belonging to the time of
the Incas as the ashlars and finely built wall at Incahuasi. On top of
one of the rocky promontories we found the rough stone foundations of
the walls of a little village. The slopes of the promontory were nearly
precipitous on three sides. Forty or fifty very primitive dwellings
had been at one time huddled together here in a position which could
easily be defended. We found among the ruins a few crude potsherds
and some bits of obsidian. There was nothing about the ruins of the
little hill village to give any indication of Inca origin. Probably
it goes back to pre-Inca days. No one could tell us anything about
it. If there were traditions concerning it they were well concealed
by the silent, superstitious shepherds of the vicinity. Possibly it
was regarded as an unlucky spot, cursed by the gods.

The neighboring slopes showed faint evidences of having been roughly
terraced and cultivated. The tutu potato would grow here, a hardy
variety not edible in the fresh state, but considered highly desirable
for making potato flour after having been repeatedly frozen and its
bitter juices all extracted. So would other highland root crops of the
Peruvians, such as the oca, a relative of our sheep sorrel, the añu,
a kind of nasturtium, and the ullucu (ullucus tuberosus).

On the flats near the shore were large corrals still kept in good
repair. New walls were being built by the Indians at the time of our
visit. Near the southeast corner of the lake were a few modern huts
built of stone and adobe, with thatched roofs, inhabited by drovers
and shepherds. We saw more cattle at the east end of the lake than
elsewhere, but they seemed to prefer the sweet water grasses of the
lake to the tough bunch-grass on the slopes of Sarasara.

Viscachas were common amongst the gray lichen-covered rocks. They
are hunted for their beautiful pearly gray fur, the "chinchilla" of
commerce; they are also very good eating, so they have disappeared
from the more accessible parts of Peru. One rarely sees them, although
they may be found on bleak uplands in the mountains of Uilcapampa,
a region rarely visited by any one on account of treacherous bogs and
deep tams. Writers sometimes call viscachas "rabbit-squirrels." They
have large, rounded ears, long hind legs, a long, bushy tail, and do
look like a cross between a rabbit and a gray squirrel.

Surmounting one of the higher ridges one day, I came suddenly upon
an unusually large herd of wild vicuñas. It included more than one
hundred individuals. Their relative fearlessness also testified to the
remoteness of Parinacochas and the small amount of hunting that is done
here. Vicuñas have never been domesticated, but are often hunted for
their skins. Their silky fleece is even finer than alpaca. The more
fleecy portions of their skins are sewed together to make quilts,
as soft as eider down and of a golden brown color.

After Mr. Tucker finished his triangulation of the lake I told the
arrieros to find the shortest road home. They smiled, murmured
"Arequipa," and started south. We soon came to the rim of the
Maraicasa Valley where, peeping up over one of the hills far to the
south, we got a little glimpse of Coropuna. The Maraicasa Valley is
well inhabited and there were many grain fields in sight, although
few seemed to be terraced. The surrounding hills were smooth and
well rounded and the valley bottom contained much alluvial land. We
passed through it and, after dark, reached Sondor, a tiny hamlet
inhabited by extremely suspicious and inhospitable drovers. In the
darkness Don Pablo pleaded with the owners of a well-thatched hut,
and told them how "important" we were. They were unwilling to give
us any shelter, so we were forced to pitch our tent in the very rocky
and dirty corral immediately in front of one of the huts, where pigs,
dogs, and cattle annoyed us all night. If we had arrived before dark
we might have received a different welcome. As a matter of fact,
the herdsmen only showed the customary hostility of mountaineers and
wilderness folk to those who do not arrive in the daytime, when they
can be plainly seen and fully discussed.

The next morning we passed some fairly recent lava flows and noted also
many curious rock forms caused by wind and sand erosion. We had now
left the belt of grazing lands and once more come into the desert. At
length we reached the rim of the mile-deep Caraveli Canyon and our eyes
were gladdened at sight of the rich green oasis, a striking contrast
to the barren walls of the canyon. As we descended the long, winding
road we passed many fine specimens of tree cactus. At the foot of the
steep descent we found ourselves separated from the nearest settlement
by a very wide river, which it was necessary to ford. Neither of the
Tejadas had ever been here before and its depths and dangers were
unknown. Fortunately Pablo found a forlorn individual living in a
tiny hut on the bank, who indicated which way lay safety. After an
exciting two hours we finally got across to the desired shore. Animals
and men were glad enough to leave the high, arid desert and enter
the oasis of Caraveli with its luscious, green fields of alfalfa,
its shady fig trees and tall eucalyptus. The air, pungent with the
smell of rich vegetation, seemed cooler and more invigorating.

We found at Caraveli a modern British enterprise, the gold mine of
"La Victoria." Mr. Prain, the Manager, and his associates at the
camp gave us a cordial welcome, and a wonderful dinner which I shall
long remember. After two months in the coastal desert it seemed like
home. During the evening we learned of the difficulties Mr. Prain
had had in bringing his machinery across the plateau from the nearest
port. Our own troubles seemed as nothing. The cost of transporting on
muleback each of the larger pieces of the quartz stamping-mill was
equivalent to the price of a first-class pack mule. As a matter of
fact, although it is only a two days' journey, pack animals' backs
are not built to survive the strain of carrying pieces of machinery
weighing five hundred pounds over a desert plateau up to an altitude of
4000 feet. Mules brought the machinery from the coast to the brink of
the canyon, but no mule could possibly have carried it down the steep
trail into Caraveli. Accordingly, a windlass had been constructed
on the edge of the precipice and the machinery had been lowered,
piece by piece, by block and tackle. Such was one of the obstacles
with which these undaunted engineers had had to contend. Had the man
who designed the machinery ever traveled with a pack train, climbing
up and down over these rocky stairways called mountain trails, I am
sure that he would have made his castings much smaller.


Mr. Tucker on a Mountain Trail near Caraveli


The Main Street of Chuquibamba

It is astonishing how often people who ship goods to the interior
of South America fail to realize that no single piece should be any
heavier than a pack animal can carry comfortably on one side. One
hundred and fifty pounds ought to be the extreme limit of a unit. Even
a large, strong mule will last only a few days on such trails as
are shown in the accompanying illustration if the total weight of
his cargo is over three hundred pounds. When a single piece weighs
more than two hundred pounds it has to be balanced on the back of the
animal. Then the load rocks, and chafes the unfortunate mule, besides
causing great inconvenience and constant worry to the muleteers. As a
matter of expediency it is better to have the individual units weigh
about seventy-five pounds. Such a weight is easier for the arrieros to
handle in the loading, unloading, and reloading that goes on all day
long, particularly if the trail is up-and-down, as usually happens
in the Andes. Furthermore, one seventy-five-pound unit makes a fair
load for a man or a llama, two are right for a burro, and three for
an average mule. Four can be loaded, if necessary, on a stout mule.

The hospitable mining engineers urged us to prolong our stay at
"La Victoria," but we had to hasten on. Leaving the pleasant shade
trees of Caraveli, we climbed the barren, desolate hills of coarse
gravel and lava rock and left the canyon. We were surprised to find
near the top of the rise the scattered foundations of fifty little
circular or oval huts averaging eight feet in diameter. There was
no water near here. Hardly a green thing of any sort was to be seen
in the vicinity, yet here had once been a village. It seemed to
belong to the same period as that found on the southern slopes of
the Parinacochas Basin. The road was one of the worst we encountered
anywhere, being at times merely a rough, rocky trail over and among
huge piles of lava blocks. Several of the larger boulders were covered
with pictographs. They represented a serpent and a sun, besides men
and animals.

Shortly afterwards we descended to the Rio Grande Valley at Callanga,
where we pitched our camps among the most extensive ruins that
I have seen in the coastal desert. They covered an area of one
hundred acres, the houses being crowded closely together. It gave
one a strange sensation to find such a very large metropolis in what
is now a desolate region. The general appearance of Callanga was
strikingly reminiscent of some of the large groups of ruins in our
own Southwest. Nothing about it indicated Inca origin. There were
no terraces in the vicinity. It is difficult to imagine what such a
large population could have done here, or how they lived. The walls
were of compact cobblestones, rough-laid and stuccoed with adobe and
sand. Most of the stucco had come off. Some of the houses had seats,
or small sleeping-platforms, built up at one end. Others contained
two or three small cells, possibly storerooms, with neither doors
nor windows. We found a number of burial cists--some square, others
rounded--lined with small cobblestones. In one house, at the foot of
"cellar stairs" we found a subterranean room, or tomb. The entrance
to it was covered with a single stone lintel. In examining this
tomb Mr. Tucker had a narrow escape from being bitten by a boba,
a venomous snake, nearly three feet in length, with vicious mouth,
long fangs like a rattlesnake, and a strikingly mottled skin. At one
place there was a low pyramid less than ten feet in height. To its
top led a flight of rude stone steps.

Among the ruins we found a number of broken stone dishes, rudely
carved out of soft, highly porous, scoriaceous lava. The dishes must
have been hard to keep clean! We also found a small stone mortar,
probably used for grinding paint; a broken stone war club; and a
broken compact stone mortar and pestle possibly used for grinding
corn. Two stones, a foot and a half long, roughly rounded, with
a shallow groove across the middle of the flatter sides, resembled
sinkers used by fishermen to hold down large nets, although ten times
larger than any I had ever seen used. Perhaps they were to tie down
roofs in a gale. There were a few potsherds lying on the surface of
the ground, so weathered as to have lost whatever decoration they once
had. We did no excavating. Callanga offers an interesting field for
archeological investigation. Unfortunately, we had heard nothing of
it previously, came upon it unexpectedly, and had but little time to
give it. After the first night camp in the midst of the dead city we
made the discovery that although it seemed to be entirely deserted, it
was, as a matter of fact, well populated! I was reminded of Professor
T. D. Seymour's story of his studies in the ruins of ancient Greece. We
wondered what the fleas live on ordinarily.

Our next stopping-place was the small town of Andaray, whose thatched
houses are built chiefly of stone plastered with mud. Near it we
encountered two men with a mule, which they said they were taking
into town to sell and were willing to dispose of cheaply. The Tejadas
could not resist the temptation to buy a good animal at a bargain,
although the circumstances were suspicious. Drawing on us for six gold
sovereigns, they smilingly added the new mule to the pack train; only
to discover on reaching Chuquibamba that they had purchased it from
thieves. We were able to clear our arrieros of any complicity in the
theft. Nevertheless, the owner of the stolen mule was unwilling to pay
anything for its return. So they lost their bargain and their gold. We
spent one night in Chuquibamba, with our friend Señor Benavides,
the sub-prefect, and once more took up the well-traveled route to
Arequipa. We left the Majes Valley in the afternoon and, as before,
spent the night crossing the desert.

About three o'clock in the morning--after we had been jogging steadily
along for about twelve hours in the dark and quiet of the night, the
only sound the shuffle of the mules' feet in the sand, the only sight
an occasional crescent-shaped dune, dimly visible in the starlight--the
eastern horizon began to be faintly illumined. The moon had long since
set. Could this be the approach of dawn? Sunrise was not due for at
least two hours. In the tropics there is little twilight preceding
the day; "the dawn comes up like thunder." Surely the moon could
not be going to rise again! What could be the meaning of the rapidly
brightening eastern sky? While we watched and marveled, the pure white
light grew brighter and brighter, until we cried out in ecstasy as
a dazzling luminary rose majestically above the horizon. A splendor,
neither of the sun nor of the moon, shone upon us. It was the morning
star. For sheer beauty, "divine, enchanting ravishment," Venus that day
surpassed anything I have ever seen. In the words of the great Eastern
poet, who had often seen such a sight in the deserts of Asia, "the
morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy."



Arequipa is one of the pleasantest places in the world: mountain air,
bright sunshine, warm days, cool nights, and a sparkling atmosphere
dear to the hearts of star-gazers. The city lies on a plateau,
surrounded by mighty snow-capped volcanoes, Chachani (20,000 ft.), El
Misti (19,000 ft.), and Pichu Pichu (18,000 ft.). Arequipa has only
one nightmare--earthquakes. About twice in a century the spirits of
the sleeping volcanoes stir, roll over, and go to sleep again. But
they shake the bed! And Arequipa rests on their bed. The possibility
of a "terremoto" is always present in the subconscious mind of the

One evening I happened to be dining with a friend at the hospitable
Arequipa Club. Suddenly the windows rattled violently and we heard
a loud explosion; at least that is what it sounded like to me. To
the members of the club, however, it meant only one thing--an
earthquake. Everybody rushed out; the streets were already crowded
with hysterical people, crying, shouting, and running toward the great
open plaza in front of the beautiful cathedral. Here some dropped on
their knees in gratitude at having escaped from falling walls, others
prayed to the god of earthquakes to spare their city. Yet no walls
had fallen! In the business district a great column of black smoke
was rising. Gradually it became known to the panic-stricken throngs
that the noise and the trembling had not been due to an earthquake,
but to an explosion in a large warehouse which had contained gasoline,
kerosene, dynamite and giant powder!

In this city of 35,000 people, the second largest of Peru, fires are
so very rare, not even annual, scarcely biennial, that there were
no fire engines. A bucket brigade was formed and tried to quench the
roaring furnace by dipping water from one of the azequias, or canals,
that run through the streets. The fire continued to belch forth dense
masses of smoke and flame. In any American city such a blaze would
certainly become a great conflagration.

While the fire was at its height I went into the adjoining building
to see whether any help could be rendered. To my utter amazement
the surface of the wall next to the fiery furnace was not even
warm. Such is the result of building houses with massive walls of
stone. Furthermore, the roofs in Arequipa are of tiles; consequently
no harm was done by sparks. So, without a fire department, this
really terrible fire was limited to one warehouse! The next day
the newspapers talked about the "dire necessity" of securing fire
engines. It was difficult for me to see what good a fire engine
could have done. Nothing could have saved the warehouse itself once
the fire got under way; and surely the houses next door would have
suffered more had they been deluged with streams of water. The facts
are almost incredible to an American. We take it as a matter of course
that cities should have fires and explosions. In Arequipa everybody
thought it was an earthquake!

A day's run by an excellent railroad takes one to Puno, the chief
port of Lake Titicaca, elevation 12,500 feet. Puno boasts a soldier's
monument and a new theater, really a "movie palace." There is a good
harbor, although dredging is necessary to provide for steamers like
the Inca. Repairs to the lake boats are made on a marine--or, rather,
a lacustrine--railway. The bay of Puno grows quantities of totoras,
giant bulrushes sometimes twelve feet long. Ages ago the lake dwellers
learned to dry the totoras, tie them securely in long bundles, fasten
the bundles together, turn up the ends, fix smaller bundles along the
sides as a free-board, and so construct a fishing-boat, or balsa. Of
course the balsas eventually become water-logged and spend a large
part of their existence on the shore, drying in the sun. Even so,
they are not very buoyant. I can testify that it is difficult to use
them without getting one's shoes wet. As a matter of fact one should
go barefooted, or wear sandals, as the natives do.

The balsas are clumsy, and difficult to paddle. The favorite method of
locomotion is to pole or, when the wind favors, sail. The mast is an
A-shaped contraption, twelve feet high, made of two light poles tied
together and fastened, one to each side of the craft, slightly forward
of amidships. Poles are extremely scarce in this region--lumber has
to be brought from Puget Sound, 6000 miles away--so nearly all the
masts I saw were made of small pieces of wood spliced two or three
times. To the apex of the "A" is attached a forked stick, over which
run the halyards. The rectangular "sail" is nothing more nor less
than a large mat made of rushes. A short forestay fastened to the
sides of the "A" about four feet above the hull prevents the mast from
falling when the sail is hoisted. The main halyards take the place of
a backstay. The balsas cannot beat to windward, but behave very well
in shallow water with a favoring breeze. When the wind is contrary the
boatmen must pole. They are extremely careful not to fall overboard,
for the water in the lake is cold, 55° F., and none of them know how
to swim. Lake Titicaca itself never freezes over, although during
the winter ice forms at night on the shallow bays and near the shore.


A Lake Titicaca Balsa at Puno


A Step-Topped Niche on the Island of Koati

When the Indians wish to go in the shallowest waters they use a very
small balsa not over eight feet long, barely capable of supporting
the weight of one man. On the other hand, large balsas constructed
for use in crossing the rough waters of the deeper portions of the
lake are capable of carrying a dozen people and their luggage. Once
I saw a ploughman and his team of oxen being ferried across the lake
on a bulrush raft. To give greater security two balsas are sometimes
fastened together in the fashion of a double canoe.

One of the more highly speculative of the Bolivian writers, Señor
Posnansky, of La Paz, believes that gigantic balsas were used in
bringing ten-ton monoliths across the lake to Tiahuanaco. This
theory is based on the assumption that Titicaca was once very much
higher than it is now, a hypothesis which has not commended itself
to modern geologists or geographers. Dr. Isaiah Bowman and Professor
Herbert Gregory, who have studied its geology and physiography, have
not been able to find any direct evidence of former high levels for
Lake Titicaca, or of its having been connected with the ocean.

Nevertheless, Señor Posnansky believes that Lake Titicaca was once a
salt sea which became separated from the ocean as the Andes rose. The
fact that the lake fishes are fresh-water, rather than marine, forms
does not bother him. Señor Posnansky pins his faith to a small dried
seahorse once given him by a Titicaca fisherman. He seems to forget
that dried specimens of marine life, including starfish, are frequently
offered for sale in the Andes by the dealers in primitive medicines who
may be found in almost every market-place. Probably Señor Posnansky's
seahorse was brought from the ocean by some particularly enterprising
trader. Although starfish are common enough in the Andes and a seahorse
has actually found its resting-place in La Paz, this does not alter the
fact that scientific investigators have never found any strictly marine
fauna in Lake Titicaca. On the other hand, it has two or three kinds
of edible fresh-water fish. One of them belongs to a species found in
the Rimac River near Lima. It seems to me entirely possible that the
Incas, with their scorn of the difficulties of carrying heavy burdens
over seemingly impossible trails, might have deliberately transplanted
the desirable fresh-water fishes of the Rimac River to Lake Titicaca.

Polo de Ondegardo, who lived in Cuzco in 1560, says that the Incas
used to bring fresh fish from the sea by special runners, and that
"they have records in their quipus of the fish having been brought
from Tumbez, a distance of more than three hundred leagues." The
actual transference of water jars containing the fish would have
offered no serious obstacle whatever to the Incas, provided the idea
happened to appeal to them as desirable. Yet I may be as far wrong
as Señor Posnansky! At any rate, the romantic stories of a gigantic
inland sea, vastly more extensive than the present lake and actually
surrounding the ancient city of Tiahuanaco, must be treated with
respectful skepticism.

Tiahuanaco, at the southern end of Lake Titicaca, in Bolivia,
is famous for the remains of a pre-Inca civilization. Unique among
prehistoric remains in the highlands of Peru or Bolivia are its carved
monolithic images. Although they have suffered from weathering and
from vandalism, enough remains to show that they represent clothed
human figures. The richly decorated girdles and long tunics are
carved in low relief with an intricate pattern. While some of
the designs are undoubtedly symbolic of the rank, achievements,
or attributes of the divinities or chiefs here portrayed, there is
nothing hieroglyphic. The images are stiff and show no appreciation
of the beauty of the human form. Probably the ancient artists never
had an opportunity to study the human body. In Andean villages, even
little children do not go naked as they do among primitive peoples
who live in warm climates. The Highlanders of Peru and Bolivia are
always heavily clothed, day and night. Forced by their climate to
seek comfort in the amount and thickness of their apparel, they have
developed an excessive modesty in regard to bodily exposure which
is in striking contrast to people who live on the warm sands of the
South Seas. Inca sculptors and potters rarely employed the human
body as a motif. Tiahuanaco is pre-Inca, yet even here the images are
clothed. They were not represented as clothed in order to make easier
the work of the sculptor. His carving shows he had great skill, was
observant, and had true artistic feeling. Apparently the taboo against
"nakedness" was too much for him.

Among the thirty-six islands in Lake Titicaca, some belong to
Peru, others to Bolivia. Two of the latter, Titicaca and Koati,
were peculiarly venerated in Inca days. They are covered with
artificial terraces, most of which are still used by the Indian
farmers of to-day. On both islands there are ruins of important Inca
structures. On Titicaca Island I was shown two caves, out of which,
say the Indians, came the sun and moon at their creation. These caves
are not large enough for a man to stand upright, but to a people
who do not appreciate the size of the heavenly bodies it requires
no stretch of the imagination to believe that those bright disks
came forth from caves eight feet wide. The myth probably originated
with dwellers on the western shore of the lake who would often see
the sun or moon rise over this island. On an ancient road that runs
across the island my native guide pointed out the "footprints of the
sun and moon"--two curious effects of erosion which bear a distant
resemblance to the footprints of giants twenty or thirty feet tall.

The present-day Indians, known as Aymaras, seem to be hard-working and
fairly cheerful. The impression which Bandelier gives, in his "Islands
of Titicaca and Koati," of the degradation and surly character of these
Indians was not apparent at the time of my short visit in 1915. It is
quite possible, however, that if I had to live among the Indians, as
he did for several months, digging up their ancient places of worship,
disturbing their superstitious prejudices, and possibly upsetting,
in their minds, the proper balance between wet weather and dry,
I might have brought upon myself uncivil looks and rough, churlish
treatment such as he experienced. In judging the attitude of mind
of the natives of Titicaca one should remember that they live under
most trying conditions of climate and environment. During several
months of the year everything is dried up and parched. The brilliant
sun of the tropics, burning mercilessly through the rarefied air,
causes the scant vegetation to wither. Then come torrential rains. I
shall never forget my first experience on Lake Titicaca, when the
steamer encountered a rain squall. The resulting deluge actually
came through the decks. Needless to say, such downpours tend to wash
away the soil which the farmers have painfully gathered for field or
garden. The sun in the daytime is extremely hot, yet the difference
in temperature between sun and shade is excessive. Furthermore, the
winds at night are very damp; the cold is intensely penetrating. Fuel
is exceedingly scarce, there is barely enough for cooking purposes,
and none for artificial heat.

Food is hard to get. Few crops can be grown at 12,500 feet. Some
barley is raised, but the soil is lacking in nitrogen. The principal
crop is the bitter white potato, which, after being frozen and dried,
becomes the insipid chuño, chief reliance of the poorer families. The
Inca system of bringing guano from the islands of the Pacific coast
has long since been abandoned. There is no money to pay for modern
fertilizers. Consequently, crops are poor. On Titicaca Island I
saw native women, who had just harvested their maize, engaged in
shucking and drying ears of corn which varied in length from one to
three inches. To be sure this miniature corn has the advantage of
maturing in sixty days, but good soil and fertilizers would double
its size and productiveness.

Naturally these Indians always feel themselves at the mercy of the
elements. Either a long rainy season or a drought may cause acute
hunger and extreme suffering. Consequently, one must not blame the
Bolivian or Peruvian Highlander if he frequently appears to be sullen
and morose. On the other hand, one ought not to praise Samoans for
being happy, hospitable, and light-hearted. Those fortunate Polynesians
are surrounded by warm waters in which they can always enjoy a swim,
trees from which delicious food can always be obtained, and cocoanuts
from which cooling drinks are secured without cost. Who could not
develop cheerfulness under such conditions?

On the small island, Koati, some of the Inca stonework is remarkably
good, and has several unusual features, such as the elaboration of the
large, reëntrant, ceremonial niches formed by step-topped arches, one
within the other. Small ornamental niches are used to break the space
between these recesses and the upper corners of the whole rectangle
containing them. Also unusual are the niches between the doorways,
made in the form of an elaborate quadrate cross. It might seem at first
glance as though this feature showed Spanish influence, since a Papal
cross is created by the shadow cast in the intervening recessed courses
within their design. As a matter of fact, the cross nowy quadrant is
a natural outcome of using for ornamental purposes the step-shaped
design, both erect and inverted. All over the land of the Incas one
finds flights of steps or terraces used repeatedly for ornamental or
ceremonial purposes. Some stairs are large enough to be used by man;
others are in miniature. Frequently the steps were cut into the sacred
boulders consecrated to ancestor worship. It was easy for an Inca
architect, accustomed to the stairway motif, to have conceived these
curious doorways on Koati and also the cross-like niches between them,
even if he had never seen any representation of a Papal cross, or a
cross nowy quadrant. My friend, Mr. Bancel La Farge, has also suggested
a striking resemblance which the sedilia-like niches bear to Arabic
or Moorish architecture, as shown, for instance, in the Court of the
Lions in the Alhambra. The step-topped arch is distinctly Oriental
in form, yet flights of steps or terraces are also thoroughly Incaic.

The principal structure on Koati was built around three sides of
a small plaza, constructed on an artificial terrace in a slight
depression on the eastern side of the island. The fourth side is
open and affords a magnificent view of the lake and the wonderful
snow-covered Cordillera Real, 200 miles long and nowhere less than
17,000 feet high. This range of lofty snow-peaks of surpassing beauty
culminates in Mt. Sorata, 21,520 feet high. To the worshipers of the
sun and moon, who came to the sacred islands for some of their most
elaborate religious ceremonies, the sight of those heavenly luminaries,
rising over the majestic snow mountains, their glories reflected in the
shining waters of the lake, must have been a sublime spectacle. On such
occasions the little plaza would indeed have been worth seeing. We may
imagine the gayly caparisoned Incas, their faces lit up by the colors
of "rosy-fingered dawn, daughter of the morning," their ceremonial
formation sharply outlined against the high, decorated walls of
the buildings behind them. Perhaps the rulers and high priests had
special stations in front of the large, step-topped niches. One may
be sure that a people who were fond of bright colors, who were able
to manufacture exquisite textiles, and who loved to decorate their
garments with spangles and disks of beaten gold, would have lost no
opportunity for making the ancient ceremonies truly resplendent.

On the peninsula of Copacabana, opposite the sacred islands, a great
annual pageant is still staged every August. Although at present
connected with a pious pilgrimage to the shrine of the miraculous
image of the "Virgin of Copacabana," this vivid spectacle, the
most celebrated fair in all South America, has its origin in the
dim past. It comes after the maize is harvested and corresponds to
our Thanksgiving festival. The scene is laid in the plaza in front
of a large, bizarre church. During the first ten days in August
there are gathered here thousands of the mountain folk from far and
near. Everything dear to the heart of the Aymara Indian is offered
for sale, including quantities of his favorite beverages. Traders,
usually women, sit in long rows on blankets laid on the cobblestone
pavement. Some of them are protected from the sun by primitive
umbrellas, consisting of a square cotton sheet stretched over a bamboo
frame. In one row are those traders who sell parched and popped corn;
in another those who deal in sandals and shoes, the simple gear
of the humblest wayfarer and the elaborately decorated high-laced
boots affected by the wealthy Chola women of La Paz. In another row
are the dealers in Indian blankets; still another is devoted to such
trinkets as one might expect to find in a "needle-and-thread" shop at
home. There are stolid Aymara peddlers with scores of bamboo flutes
varying in size from a piccolo to a bassoon; the hat merchants, with
piles of freshly made native felts, warranted to last for at least a
year; and vendors of aniline dyes. The fabrics which have come to us
from Inca times are colored with beautifully soft vegetable dyes. Among
Inca ruins one may find small stone mortars, in which the primitive
pigments were ground and mixed with infinite care. Although the modern
Indian still prefers the product of hand looms, he has been quick to
adopt the harsh aniline dyes, which are not only easier to secure,
but produce more striking results.

As a citizen of Connecticut it gave me quite a start to see, carelessly
exposed to the weather on the rough cobblestones of the plaza,
bright new hardware from New Haven and New Britain--locks, keys,
spring scales, bolts, screw eyes, hooks, and other "wooden nutmegs."

At the tables of the "money-changers," just outside of the
sacred enclosure, are the real moneymakers, who give nothing for
something. Thimble-riggers and three-card-monte-men do a brisk
business and stand ready to fleece the guileless native or the
unsuspecting foreigner. The operators may wear ragged ponchos and
appear to be incapable of deep designs, but they know all the tricks
of the trade! The most striking feature of the fair is the presence
of various Aymara secret societies, whose members, wearing repulsive
masks, are clad in the most extraordinary costumes which can be
invented by primitive imaginations. Each society has its own uniform,
made up of tinsels and figured satins, tin-foil, gold and silver leaf,
gaudy textiles, magnificent epaulets bearing large golden stars on a
background of silver decorated with glittering gems of colored glass;
tinted "ostrich" plumes of many colors sticking straight up eighteen
inches above the heads of their wearers, gaudy ribbons, beruffled
bodices, puffed sleeves, and slashed trunks. Some of these strange
costumes are actually reminiscent of the sixteenth century. The wearers
are provided with flutes, whistles, cymbals, flageolets, snare drums,
and rattles, or other noise-makers. The result is an indescribable
hubbub; a garish human kaleidoscope, accompanied by fiendish clamor
and unmusical noises which fairly outstrip a dozen jazz bands. It is
bedlam let loose, a scene of wild uproar and confusion.

The members of one group were dressed to represent female angels,
their heads tightly turbaned so as to bear the maximum number of
tall, waving, variegated plumes. On their backs were gaudy wings
resembling the butterflies of children's pantomimes. Many wore colored
goggles. They marched solemnly around the plaza, playing on bamboo
flageolets, their plaintive tunes drowned in the din of big bass
drums and blatant trumpets. In an eddy in the seething crowd was a
placid-faced Aymara, bedecked in the most tawdry manner with gewgaws
from Birmingham or Manchester, sedately playing a melancholy tune on
a rustic syrinx or Pan's pipe, charmingly made from little tubes of
bamboo from eastern Bolivia.

At the close of the festival, on a Sunday afternoon, the costumes
disappear and there occurs a bull-baiting. Strong temporary barriers
are erected at the comers of the plaza; householders bar their
doors. A riotous crowd, composed of hundreds of pleasure-seekers,
well fortified with Dutch courage, gathers for the fray. All are
ready to run helter-skelter in every direction should the bull take
it into his head to charge toward them. It is not a bullfight. There
are no picadors, armed with lances to prick the bull to madness; no
banderilleros, with barbed darts; no heroic matador, ready with shining
blade to give a mad and weary bull the coup de grace. Here all is fun
and frolic. To be sure, the bull is duly annoyed by boastful boys or
drunken Aymaras, who prod him with sticks and shake bright ponchos
in his face until he dashes after his tormentors and causes a mighty
scattering of some spectators, amid shrieks of delight from everybody
else. When one animal gets tired, another is brought on. There is
no chance of a bull being wounded or seriously hurt. At the time of
our visit the only animal who seemed at all anxious to do real damage
was let alone. He showed no disposition to charge at random into the
crowds. The spectators surrounded the plaza so thickly that he could
not distinguish any one particular enemy on whom to vent his rage. He
galloped madly after any individual who crossed the plaza. Five or
six bulls were let loose during the excitement, but no harm was done,
and every one had an uproariously good time.

Such is the spectacle of Copacabana, a mixture of business and
pleasure, pagan and Christian, Spain and Titicaca. Bedlam is not
pleasant to one's ears; yet to see the staid mountain herdsmen, attired
in plumes, petticoats, epaulets, and goggles, blowing mightily with
puffed-out lips on bamboo flageolets, is worth a long journey.


The Vilcanota Country and the Peruvian Highlanders

In the northernmost part of the Titicaca Basin are the grassy foothills
of the Cordillera Vilcanota, where large herds of alpacas thrive on
the sweet, tender pasturage. Santa Rosa is the principal town. Here
wool-buyers come to bid for the clip. The high prices which alpaca
fleece commands have brought prosperity. Excellent blankets, renowned
in southern Peru for their weight and texture, are made here on hand
looms. Notwithstanding the altitude--nearly as great as the top of
Pike's Peak--the stocky inhabitants of Santa Rosa are hardy, vigorous,
and energetic. Ricardo Charaja, the best Quichua assistant we ever had,
came from Santa Rosa. Nearly all the citizens are of pure Indian stock.

They own many fine llamas. There is abundant pasturage and the llamas
are well cared for by the Indians, who become personally attached to
their flocks and are loath to part with any of the individuals. Once I
attempted through a Cuzco acquaintance to secure the skin and skeleton
of a fine llama for the Yale Museum. My friend was favorably known
and spoke the Quichua language fluently. He offered a good price and
obtained from various llama owners promises to bring the hide and bones
of one of their "camels" for shipment; but they never did. Apparently
they regarded it as unlucky to kill a llama, and none happened to die
at the right time. The llamas never show affection for their masters,
as horses often do. On the other hand I have never seen a llama kick
or bite at his owner.

The llama was the only beast of burden known in either North or South
America before Columbus. It was found by the Spaniards in all parts of
Inca Land. Its small two-toed feet, with their rough pads, enable it
to walk easily on slopes too rough or steep for even a nimble-footed,
mountain-bred mule. It has the reputation of being an unpleasant pet,
due to its ability to sneeze or spit for a considerable distance
a small quantity of acrid saliva. When I was in college Barnum's
Circus came to town. The menagerie included a dozen llamas, whose
supercilious expression, inoffensive looks, and small size--they are
only three feet high at the shoulder

tempted some little urchins to tease them. When the llamas felt
that the time had come for reprisals, their aim was straight and the
result a precipitate retreat. Their tormentors, howling and rubbing
their eyes, had to run home and wash their faces. Curiously enough,
in the two years which I have spent in the Peruvian highlands I have
never seen a llama so attack a single human being. On the other hand,
when I was in Santa Rosa in 1915 some one had a tame vicuña which was
perfectly willing to sneeze straight at any stranger who came within
twenty feet of it, even if one's motive was nothing more annoying than
scientific curiosity. The vicuña is the smallest American "camel,"
yet its long, slender neck, small head, long legs, and small body,
from which hangs long, feathery fleece, make it look more like an
ostrich than a camel.

In the churchyard of Santa Rosa are two or three gnarled trees which
have been carefully preserved for centuries as objects of respect and
veneration. Some travelers have thought that 14,000 feet is above the
tree line, but the presence of these trees at Santa Rosa would seem
to show that the use of the words "tree line" is a misnomer in the
Andes. Mr. Cook believes that the Peruvian plateau, with the exception
of the coastal deserts, was once well covered with forests. When man
first came into the Andes, everything except rocky ledges, snow fields,
and glaciers was covered with forest growth. Although many districts
are now entirely treeless, Mr. Cook found that the conditions of light,
heat, and moisture, even at the highest elevations, are sufficient
to support the growth of trees; also that there is ample fertility of
soil. His theories are well substantiated by several isolated tracts
of forests which I found growing alongside of glaciers at very high
elevations. One forest in particular, on the slopes of Mt. Soiroccocha,
has been accurately determined by Mr. Bumstead to be over 15,000 feet
above sea level. It is cut off from the inhabited valley by rock falls
and precipices, so it has not been available for fuel. Virgin forests
are not known to exist in the Peruvian highlands on any lands which
could have been cultivated. A certain amount of natural reforestation
with native trees is taking place on abandoned agricultural terraces
in some of the high valleys. Although these trees belong to many
different species and families, Mr. Cook found that they all have
this striking peculiarity--when cut down they sprout readily from
the stumps and are able to survive repeated pollarding; remarkable
evidence of the fact that the primeval forests of Peru were long ago
cut down for fuel or burned over for agriculture.

Near the Santa Rosa trees is a tall bell-tower. The sight of a
picturesque belfry with four or five bells of different sizes hanging
each in its respective window makes a strong appeal. It is quite
otherwise on Sunday mornings when these same bells, "out of tune with
themselves," or actually cracked, are all rung at the same time. The
resulting clangor and din is unforgettable. I presume the Chinese would
say it was intended to drive away the devils--and surely such noise
must be "thoroughly uncongenial even to the most irreclaimable devil,"
as Lord Frederick Hamilton said of the Canton practices. Church bells
in the United States and England are usually sweet-toned and intended
to invite the hearer to come to service, or else they ring out in
joyous peals to announce some festive occasion. There is nothing
inviting or joyous about the bells in southern Peru. Once in a while
one may hear a bell of deep, sweet tone, like that of the great bell in
Cuzco, which is tolled when the last sacrament is being administered
to a dying Christian; but the general idea of bell-ringers in this
part of the world seems to be to make the greatest possible amount
of racket and clamor. On popular saints' days this is accompanied by
firecrackers, aerial bombs, and other noise-making devices which again
remind one of Chinese folkways. Perhaps it is merely that fundamental
fondness for making a noise which is found in all healthy children.

On Sunday afternoon the plaza of Santa Rosa was well filled with
Quichua holiday-makers, many of whom had been imbibing freely of
chicha, a mild native brew usually made from ripe corn. The crowd was
remarkably good-natured and given to an unusual amount of laughter
and gayety. For them Sunday is truly a day of rest, recreation,
and sociability. On week days, most of them, even the smaller boys,
are off on the mountain pastures, watching the herds whose wool
brings prosperity to Santa Rosa. One sometimes finds the mountain
Indians on Sunday afternoon sodden, thoroughly soaked with chicha,
and inclined to resent the presence of inquisitive strangers; not so
these good folk of Santa Rosa.


Indian Alcaldes at Santa Rosa


Native Druggists in the Plaza of Sicuani

To be sure, the female vendors of eggs, potatoes, peppers, and sundry
native vegetables, squatting in two long rows on the plaza, did not
enjoy being photographed, but the men and boys crowded eagerly forward,
very much interested in my endeavors. Some of the Indian alcaldes,
local magistrates elected yearly to serve as the responsible officials
for villages or tribal precincts, were very helpful and, armed with
their large, silver-mounted staffs of office, tried to bring the
shy, retiring women of the market-place to stand in a frightened,
disgruntled, barefooted group before the camera. The women were dressed
in the customary tight bodices, heavy woolen skirts, and voluminous
petticoats of the plateau. Over their shoulders were pinned heavy
woolen shawls, woven on hand looms. On their heads were reversible
"pancake" hats made of straw, covered on the wet-weather side with
coarse woolen stuff and on the fair-weather side with tinsel and
velveteen. In accordance with local custom, tassels and fringes hung
down on both sides. It is said that the first Inca ordered the dresses
of each village to be different, so that his officials might know
to which tribe an Indian belonged. It was only with great difficulty
and by the combined efforts of a good-natured priest, the gobernador
or mayor, and the alcaldes that a dozen very reluctant females
were finally persuaded to face the camera. The expression of their
faces was very eloquent. Some were highly indignant, others looked
foolish or supercilious, two or three were thoroughly frightened, not
knowing what evil might befall them next. Not one gave any evidence
of enjoying it or taking the matter as a good joke, although that
was the attitude assumed by all their male acquaintances. In fact,
some of the men were so anxious to have their pictures taken that
they followed us about and posed on the edge of every group.

Men and boys all wore knitted woolen caps, with ear flaps, which they
seldom remove either day or night. On top of these were large felt
hats, turned up in front so as to give a bold aspect to their husky
wearers. Over their shoulders were heavy woolen ponchos, decorated with
bright stripes. Their trousers end abruptly halfway between knee and
ankle, a convenient style for herdsmen who have to walk in the long,
dewy grasses of the plateau. These "high-water" pantaloons do not
look badly when worn with sandals, as is the usual custom; but since
this was Sunday all the well-to-do men had put on European boots,
which did not come up to the bottom of their trousers and produced
a singular effect, hardly likely to become fashionable.

The prosperity of the town was also shown by corrugated iron roofs. Far
less picturesque than thatch or tile, they require less attention
and give greater satisfaction during the rainy season. They can also
be securely bolted to the rafters. On this wind-swept plateau we
frequently noticed that a thatched roof was held in place by ropes
passed over the house and weights resting on the roof. Sometimes to
the peak of a gable are fastened crosses, tiny flags, or the skulls of
animals--probably to avert the Evil Eye or bring good luck. Horseshoes
do not seem to be in demand. Horses' skulls, however, are deemed
very efficacious.

On the rim of the Titicaca Basin is La Raya. The watershed is so level
that it is almost impossible to say whether any particular raindrop
will eventually find itself in Lake Titicaca or in the Atlantic
Ocean. The water from a spring near the railroad station of Araranca
flows definitely to the north. This spring may be said to be one of the
sources of the Urubamba River, an important affluent of the Ucayali
and also of the Amazon, but I never have heard it referred to as
"the source of the Amazon" except by an adventurous lecturer, Captain
Blank, whose moving picture entertainment bore the alluring title,
"From the Source to the Mouth of the Amazon." As most of his pictures
of wild animals "in the jungle" looked as though they were taken in
the zoölogical gardens at Para, and the exciting tragedies of his canoe
trip were actually staged near a friendly hacienda at Santa Ana, less
than a week's journey from Cuzco, it is perhaps unnecessary to censure
him for giving this particular little spring such a pretentious title.

The Urubamba River is known by various names to the people who live on
its banks. The upper portion is sometimes spoken of as the Vilcanota,
a term which applies to a lake as well as to the snow-covered peaks
of the cordillera in this vicinity. The lower portion was called by
the Incas the Uilca or the Uilcamayu.

Near the water-parting of La Raya I noticed the remains of an
interesting wall which may have served centuries ago to divide the
Incas of Cuzco from the Collas or warlike tribes of the Titicaca
Basin. In places the wall has been kept in repair by the owners of
grazing lands, but most of it can be but dimly traced across the
valley and up the neighboring slopes to the cliffs of the Cordillera
Vilcanota. It was built of rough stones. Near the historic wall
are the ruins of ancient houses, possibly once occupied by an Inca
garrison. I observed no ashlars among the ruins nor any evidence of
careful masonry. It seems to me likely that it was a hastily thrown-up
fortification serving for a single military campaign, rather than any
permanent affair like the Roman wall of North Britain or the Great Wall
of China. We know from tradition that war was frequently waged between
the peoples of the Titicaca Basin and those of the Urubamba and Cuzco
valleys. It is possible that this is a relic of one of those wars.

On the other hand, it may be much older than the Incas. Montesinos,
[3] one of the best early historians, tells us of Titu Yupanqui,
Pachacuti VI, sixty-second of the Peruvian Amautas, rulers who
long preceded the Incas. Against Pachacuti VI there came (about 800
A.D.) large hordes of fierce soldiers from the south and east, laying
waste fields and capturing cities and towns; evidently barbarian
migrations which appear to have continued for some time. During
these wars the ancient civilization, which had been built up with
so much care and difficulty during the preceding twenty centuries,
was seriously threatened. Pachacuti VI, more religious than warlike,
ruler of a people whose great achievements had been agricultural
rather than military, was frightened by his soothsayers and priests;
they told him of many bad omens. Instead of inducing him to follow
a policy of military preparedness, he was urged to make sacrifices
to the deities. Nevertheless he ordered his captains to fortify the
strategic points and make preparations for defense. The invaders
may have come from Argentina. It is possible that they were spurred
on by hunger and famine caused by the gradual exhaustion of forested
areas and the subsequent spread of untillable grasslands on the great
pampas. Montesinos indicates that many of the people who came up
into the highlands at that time were seeking arable lands for their
crops and were "fleeing from a race of giants"--possibly Patagonians
or Araucanians--who had expelled them from their own lands. On their
journey they had passed over plains, swamps, and jungles. It is obvious
that a great readjustment of the aborigines was in progress. The
governors of the districts through which these hordes passed were not
able to summon enough strength to resist them. Pachacuti VI assembled
the larger part of his army near the pass of La Raya and awaited the
approach of the enemy. If the accounts given in Montesinos are true,
this wall near La Raya may have been built about 1100 years ago,
by the chiefs who were told to "fortify the strategic points."

Certainly the pass of La Raya, long the gateway from the Titicaca
Basin to the important cities and towns of the Urubamba Basin, was the
key to the situation. It is probable that Pachacuti VI drew up his
army behind this wall. His men were undoubtedly armed with slings,
the weapon most familiar to the highland shepherds. The invaders,
however, carried bows and arrows, more effective arms, swifter, more
difficult to see, less easy to dodge. As Pachacuti VI was carried
over the field of battle on a golden stretcher, encouraging his men,
he was killed by an arrow. His army was routed. Montesinos states that
only five hundred escaped. Leaving behind their wounded, they fled to
"Tampu-tocco," a healthy place where there was a cave, in which they
hid the precious body of their ruler. Most writers believe this to
be at Paccaritampu where there are caves under an interesting carved
rock. There is no place in Peru to-day which still bears the name
of Tampu-tocco. To try and identify it with some of the ruins which
do exist, and whose modern names are not found in the early Spanish
writers, has been one of the principal objects of my expeditions to
Peru, as will be described in subsequent chapters.


A Potato-field at La Raya


Laying Down the Warp for a Blanket: Near the Pass of La Raya

Near the watershed of La Raya we saw great flocks of sheep and alpacas,
numerous corrals, and the thatched-roofed huts of herdsmen. The
Quichua women are never idle. One often sees them engaged in the
manufacture of textiles--shawls, girdles, ponchos, and blankets--on
hand looms fastened to stakes driven into the ground. When tending
flocks or walking along the road they are always winding or spinning
yarn. Even the men and older children are sometimes thus engaged. The
younger children, used as shepherds as soon as they reach the
age of six or seven, are rarely expected to do much except watch
their charges. Some of them were accompanied by long-haired suncca
shepherd dogs, as large as Airedales, but very cowardly, given to
barking and slinking away. It is claimed that the sunccas, as well
as two other varieties, were domesticated by the Incas. None of them
showed any desire to make the acquaintance of "Checkers," my faithful
Airedale. Their masters, however, were always interested to see that
"Checkers" could understand English. They had never seen a dog that
could understand anything but Quichua!

On the hillside near La Raya, Mr. Cook, Mr. Gilbert, and I visited
a healthy potato field at an elevation of 14,500 feet, a record
altitude for potatoes. When commencing to plough or spade a potato
field on the high slopes near here, it is the custom of the Indians to
mark it off into squares, by "furrows" about fifteen feet apart. The
Quichuas commence their task soon after daybreak. Due to the absence
of artificial lighting and the discomfort of rising in the bitter cold
before dawn, their wives do not prepare breakfast before ten o'clock,
at which time it is either brought from home in covered earthenware
vessels or cooked in the open fields near where the men are working.

We came across one energetic landowner supervising a score or more
of Indians who were engaged in "ploughing" a potato field. Although
he was dressed in European garb and was evidently a man of means and
intelligence, and near the railroad, there were no modern implements
in sight. We found that it is difficult to get Indians to use any
except the implements of their ancestors. The process of "ploughing"
this field was undoubtedly one that had been used for centuries,
probably long before the Spanish Conquest. The men, working in unison
and in a long row, each armed with a primitive spade or "foot plough,"
to the handle of which footholds were lashed, would, at a signal, leap
forward with a shout and plunge their spades into the turf. Facing
each pair of men was a girl or woman whose duty it was to turn the
clods over by hand. The men had taken off their ponchos, so as to
secure greater freedom of action, but the women were fully clothed as
usual, modesty seeming to require them even to keep heavy shawls over
their shoulders. Although the work was hard and painful, the toil was
lightened by the joyous contact of community activity. Every one worked
with a will. There appeared to be a keen desire among the workers to
keep up with the procession. Those who fell behind were subjected to
good-natured teasing. Community work is sometimes pleasant, even though
it appears to require a strong directing hand. The "boss" was right
there. Such practices would never suit those who love independence.

In the centuries of Inca domination there was little opportunity for
individual effort. Private property was not understood. Everything
belonged to the government. The crops were taken by the priests,
the Incas and the nobles. The people were not as unhappy as we
should be. One seldom had to labor alone. Everything was done in
common. When it was time to cultivate the fields or to harvest the
crops, the laborers were ordered by the Incas to go forth in huge
family parties. They lessened the hardships of farm labor by village
gossip and choral singing, interspersed at regular intervals with
rest periods, in which quantities of chicha quenched the thirst and
cheered the mind.

Habits of community work are still shown in the Andes. One often sees a
score or more of Indians carrying huge bundles of sheaves of wheat or
barley. I have found a dozen yoke of oxen, each a few yards from the
other in a parallel line, engaged in ploughing synchronously small
portions of a large field. Although the landlords frequently visit
Lima and sometimes go to Paris and New York, where they purchase
for their own use the products of modern invention, the fields are
still cultivated in the fashion introduced three centuries ago by the
conquistadores, who brought the first draft animals and the primitive
pointed plough of the ancient Mediterranean.

Crops at La Raya are not confined to potatoes. Another food plant,
almost unknown to Europeans, even those who live in Lima, is cañihua,
a kind of pigweed. It was being harvested at the time of our visit
in April. The threshing floor for cañihua is a large blanket laid
on the ground. On top of this the stalks are placed and the flail
applied, the blanket serving to prevent the small grayish seeds from
escaping. The entire process uses nothing of European origin and has
probably not changed for centuries.

We noticed also quinoa and even barley growing at an elevation of
14,000 feet. Quinoa is another species of pigweed. It often attains
a height of three to four feet. There are several varieties. The
white-seeded variety, after being boiled, may be fairly compared
with oatmeal. Mr. Cook actually preferred it to the Scotch article,
both for taste and texture. The seeds retain their form after being
cooked and "do not appear so slimy as oatmeal." Other varieties of
quinoa are bitter and have to be boiled several times, the water
being frequently changed. The growing quinoa presents an attractive
appearance; its leaves assume many colors.

As we went down the valley the evidences of extensive cultivation,
both ancient and modern, steadily increased. Great numbers of old
terraces were to be seen. There were many fields of wheat, some of them
growing high up on the mountain side in what are called temporales,
where, owing to the steep slope, there is little effort at tillage or
cultivation, the planter trusting to luck to get some kind of a crop
in reward for very little effort. On April 14th, just above Sicuani,
we saw fields where habas beans had been gathered and the dried stalks
piled in little stacks. At Occobamba, or the pampa where oca grows,
we found fields of that useful tuber, just now ripening. Near by
were little thatched shelters, erected for the temporary use of night
watchmen during the harvest season.

The Peruvian highlanders whom we met by the roadside were different
in feature, attitude, and clothing from those of the Titicaca Basin
or even of Santa Rosa, which is not far away. They were typical
Quichuas--peaceful agriculturists--usually spinning wool on the
little hand spindles which have been used in the Andes from time
immemorial. Their huts are built of adobe, the roofs thatched with
coarse grass.

The Quichuas are brown in color. Their hair is straight and black. Gray
hair is seldom seen. It is the custom among the men in certain
localities to wear their hair long and braided. Beards are sparse or
lacking. Bald heads are very rare. Teeth seem to be more enduring
than with us. Throughout the Andes the frequency of well-preserved
teeth was everywhere noteworthy except on sugar plantations, where
there is opportunity to indulge freely in crude brown sugar nibbled
from cakes or mixed with parched corn and eaten as a travel ration.

The Quichua face is broad and short. Its breadth is nearly the same
as the Eskimo. Freckles are not common and appear to be limited to
face and arms, in the few cases in which they were observed. On the
other hand, a large proportion of the Indians are pock-marked and
show the effects of living in a country which is "free from medical
tyranny." There is no compulsory vaccination.

One hardly ever sees a fat Quichua. It is difficult to tell whether
this is a racial characteristic or due rather to the lack of
fat-producing foods in their diet. Although the Peruvian highlander
has made the best use he could of the llama, he was never able to
develop its slender legs and weak back sufficiently to use it for
loads weighing more than eighty or a hundred pounds. Consequently, for
the carrying of really heavy burdens he had to depend on himself. As
a result, it is not surprising to learn from Dr. Ferris that while
his arms are poorly developed, his shoulders are broader, his back
muscles stronger, and the calves of his legs larger and more powerful
than those of almost any other race.

The Quichuas are fond of shaking hands. When a visiting Indian
joins a group he nearly always goes through the gentle ceremony with
each person in turn. I do not know whether this was introduced by
the Spaniards or comes down from prehistoric times. In any event,
this handshaking in no way resembles the hearty clasp familiar to
undergraduates at the beginning of the college year. As a matter of
fact the Quichua handshake is extremely fishy and lacks cordiality. In
testing the hand grip of the Quichuas by a dynamometer our surgeons
found that the muscles of the forearm were poorly developed in the
Quichua and the maximum grip was weak in both sexes, the average
for the man being only about half of that found among American white
adults of sedentary habits.

Dr. Ales Hrdlicka believes that the aboriginal races of North
and South America were of the same stock. The wide differences
in physiognomy observable among the different tribes in North and
South America are perhaps due to their environmental history during
the past 10,000 or 20,000 years. Mr. Frank Chapman, of the American
Museum of Natural History, has pointed out the interesting biological
fact that animals and birds found at sea level in the cold regions of
Tierra del Fuego, while not found at sea level in Peru, do exist at
very high altitudes, where the climate is similar to that with which
they are acquainted. Similarly, it is interesting to learn that the
inhabitants of the cold, lofty regions of southern Peru, living in
towns and villages at altitudes of from 9000 to 14,000 feet above the
sea, have physical peculiarities closely resembling those living at
sea level in Tierra del Fuego, Alaska, and Labrador. Dr. Ferris says
the Labrador Eskimo and the Quichua constitute the two "best-known
short-stature races on the American continent."

So far as we could learn by questions and observation, about one
quarter of the Quichuas are childless. In families which have children
the average number is three or four. Large families are not common,
although we generally learned that the living children in a family
usually represented less than half of those which had been born. Infant
mortality is very great. The proper feeding of children is not
understood and it is a marvel how any of them manage to grow up at all.

Coughs and bronchial trouble are very common among the Indians. In
fact, the most common afflictions of the tableland are those of the
throat and lungs. Pneumonia is the most serious and most to be dreaded
of all local diseases. It is really terrifying. Due to the rarity
of the air and relative scarcity of oxygen, pneumonia is usually
fatal at 8000 feet and is uniformly so at 11,000 feet. Patients are
frequently ill only twenty-four hours. Tuberculosis is fairly common,
its prevalence undoubtedly caused by the living conditions practiced
among the highlanders, who are unwilling to sleep in a room which is
not tightly closed and protected against any possible intrusion of
fresh air. In the warmer valleys, where bodily comfort has led the
natives to use huts of thatch and open reeds, instead of the air-tight
hovels of the cold, bleak plateau, tuberculosis is seldom seen. Of
course, there are no "boards of health," nor are the people bothered by
being obliged to conform to any sanitary regulations. Water supplies
are so often contaminated that the people have learned to avoid
drinking it as far as possible. Instead, they eat quantities of soup.


The Ruins of the Temple of Viracocha at Racche

In the market-place of Sicuani, the largest town in the valley, and
the border-line between the potato-growing uplands and lowland maize
fields, we attended the famous Sunday market. Many native "druggists"
were present. Their stock usually consisted of "medicines," whose
efficacy was learned by the Incas. There were forty or fifty kinds
of simples and curiosities, cure-alls, and specifics. Fully half
were reported to me as being "useful against fresh air" or the evil
effects of drafts. The "medicines" included such minerals as iron
ore and sulphur; such vegetables as dried seeds, roots, and the
leaves of plants domesticated hundreds of years ago by the Incas or
gathered in the tropical jungles of the lower Urubamba Valley; and
such animals as starfish brought from the Pacific Ocean. Some of them
were really useful herbs, while others have only a psychopathic effect
on the patient. Each medicine was in an attractive little particolored
woolen bag. The bags, differing in design and color, woven on miniature
hand looms, were arranged side by side on the ground, the upper parts
turned over and rolled down so as to disclose the contents.

Not many miles below Sicuani, at a place called Racche, are the
remarkable ruins of the so-called Temple of Viracocha, described by
Squier. At first sight Racche looks as though there were here a row
of nine or ten lofty adobe piers, forty or fifty feet high! Closer
inspection, however, shows them all to be parts of the central wall of
a great temple. The wall is pierced with large doors and the spaces
between the doors are broken by niches, narrower at the top than at
the bottom. There are small holes in the doorposts for bar-holds. The
base of the great wall is about five feet thick and is of stone. The
ashlars are beautifully cut and, while not rectangular, are roughly
squared and fitted together with most exquisite care, so as to insure
their making a very firm foundation. Their surface is most attractive,
but, strange to say, there is unmistakable evidence that the builders
did not wish the stonework to show. This surface was at one time
plastered with clay, a very significant fact. The builders wanted the
wall to seem to be built entirely of adobe, yet, had the great clay
wall rested on the ground, floods and erosion might have succeeded
in undermining it. Instead, it rests securely on a beautifully built
foundation of solid masonry. Even so, the great wall does not stand
absolutely true, but leans slightly to the westward. The wall also
seems to be less weathered on the west side. Probably the prevailing
or strongest wind is from the east.

An interesting feature of the ruins is a round column about twenty
feet high--a very rare occurrence in Inca architecture. It also
is of adobe, on a stone foundation. There is only one column now
standing. In Squier's day the remains of others were to be seen,
but I could find no evidences of them. There was probably a double
row of these columns to support the stringers and tiebeams of the
roof. Apparently one end of a tiebeam rested on the circular column
and the other end was embedded in the main wall. The holes where the
tiebeams entered the wall have stone lintels.

Near the ruins of the great temple are those of other buildings, also
unique, so far as I know. The base of the party wall, decorated with
large niches, is of cut ashlars carefully laid; the middle course is of
adobe, while the upper third is of rough, uncut stones. It looks very
odd now but was originally covered with fine clay or stucco. In several
cases the plastered walls are still standing, in fairly good condition,
particularly where they have been sheltered from the weather.

The chief marvel of Racche, however, is the great adobe wall of the
temple, which is nearly fifty feet high. It is slowly disintegrating,
as might be expected. The wonder is that it should have stood so
long in a rainy region without any roof or protecting cover. It is
incredible that for at least five hundred years a wall of sun-dried
clay should have been able to defy severe rainstorms. The lintels,
made of hard-wood timbers and partially embedded in the wall, are all
gone; yet the adobe remains. It would be very interesting to find out
whether the water of the springs near the temple contains lime. If
so this might have furnished natural calcareous cement in sufficient
quantity to give the clay a particularly tenacious quality, able to
resist weathering. The factors which have caused this extraordinary
adobe wall to withstand the weather in such an exposed position for
so many centuries, notwithstanding the heavy rains of each summer
season from December to March, are worthy of further study.

It has been claimed that this temple was devoted to the worship
of Viracocha, a great deity, the Jove or Zeus of the ancient
pantheon. It seems to me more reasonable to suppose that a primitive
folk constructed here a temple to the presiding divinity of the place,
the god who gave them this precious clay. The principal industry
of the neighboring village is still the manufacture of pottery. No
better clay for ceramic purposes has been found in the Andes.

It would have been perfectly natural for the prehistoric potters to
have desired to placate the presiding divinity, not so much perhaps
out of gratitude for the clay as to avert his displeasure and fend
off bad luck in baking pottery. It is well known that the best pottery
of the Incas was extremely fine in texture. Students of ceramics are
well aware of the uncertainty of the results of baking clay. Bad luck
seems to come most unaccountably, even when the greatest pains are
taken. Might it not have been possible that the people who were most
concerned with creating pottery decided to erect this temple to insure
success and get as much good luck as possible? Near the ancient temple
is a small modern church with two towers. The churchyard appears to be
a favorite place for baking pottery. Possibly the modern potters use
the church to pray for success in their baking, just as the ancient
potters used the great temple of Viracocha. The walls of the church are
composed partly of adobe and partly of cut stones taken from the ruins.

Not far away is a fairly recent though prehistoric lava flow. It
occurs to me that possibly this flow destroyed some of the clay
beds from which the ancient potters got their precious material. The
temple may have been erected as a propitiatory offering to the god
of volcanoes in the hope that the anger which had caused him to send
the lava flow might be appeased. It may be that the Inca Viracocha,
an unusually gifted ruler, was particularly interested in ceramics and
was responsible for building the temple. If so, it would be natural
for people who are devoted to ancestor worship to have here worshiped
his memory.


Route Map of the Peruvian Expedition of 1912


The Valley of the Huatanay

The valley of the Huatanay is one of many valleys tributary to the
Urubamba. It differs from them in having more arable land located under
climatic conditions favorable for the raising of the food crops of the
ancient Peruvians. Containing an area estimated at less than 160 square
miles, it was the heart of the greatest empire that South America has
ever seen. It is still intensively cultivated, the home of a large
percentage of the people of this part of Peru. The Huatanay itself
sometimes meanders through the valley in a natural manner, but at
other times is seen to be confined within carefully built stone walls
constructed by prehistoric agriculturists anxious to save their fields
from floods and erosion. The climate is temperate. Extreme cold is
unknown. Water freezes in the lowlands during the dry winter season,
in June and July, and frost may occur any night in the year above
13,000 feet, but in general the climate may be said to be neither
warm nor cold.

This rich valley was apportioned by the Spanish conquerors to
soldiers who were granted large estates as well as the labor of
the Indians living on them. This method still prevails and one may
occasionally meet on the road wealthy landholders on their way to and
from town. Although mules are essentially the most reliable saddle
animals for work in the Andes, these landholders usually prefer horses,
which are larger and faster, as well as being more gentle and better
gaited. The gentry of the Huatanay Valley prefer a deep-seated saddle,
over which is laid a heavy sheepskin or thick fur mat. The fashionable
stirrups are pyramidal in shape, made of wood decorated with silver
bands. Owing to the steepness of the roads, a crupper is considered
necessary and is usually decorated with a broad, embossed panel,
from which hang little trappings reminiscent of medieval harness. The
bridle is usually made of carefully braided leather, decorated with
silver and frequently furnished with an embossed leather eye shade or
blinder, to indicate that the horse is high-spirited. This eye shade,
which may be pulled down so as to blind both eyes completely, is more
useful than a hitching post in persuading the horse to stand still.

The valley of the Huatanay River is divided into three parts, the
basins of Lucre, Oropesa, and Cuzco. The basaltic cliffs near Oropesa
divide the Lucre Basin from the Oropesa Basin. The pass at Angostura,
or "the narrows," is the natural gateway between the Oropesa Basin and
the Cuzco Basin. Each basin contains interesting ruins. In the Lucre
Basin the most interesting are those of Rumiccolca and Piquillacta.

At the extreme eastern end of the valley, on top of the pass which
leads to the Vilcanota is an ancient gateway called Rumiccolca (Rumi =
"stone"; ccolca = "granary"). It is commonly supposed that this was
an Inca fortress, intended to separate the chiefs of Cuzco from those
of Vilcanota. It is now locally referred to as a "fortaleza." The
major part of the wall is well built of rough stones, laid in clay,
while the sides of the gateway are faced with carefully cut andesite
ashlars of an entirely different style. It is conceivable that some
great chieftain built the rough wall in the days when the highlands
were split up among many little independent rulers, and that later one
of the Incas, no longer needing any fortifications between the Huatanay
Valley and the Vilcanota Valley, tore down part of the wall and built
a fine gateway. The faces of the ashlars are nicely finished except
for several rough bosses or nubbins. They were probably used by the
ancient masons in order to secure a better hold when finally adjusting
the ashlars with small crowbars. It may have been the intention of the
stone masons to remove these nubbins after the wall was completed. In
one of the unfinished structures at Machu Picchu I noticed similar
bosses. The name "Stone-granary" was probably originally applied to
a neighboring edifice now in ruins.

On the rocky hillside above Rumiccolca are the ruins of many ancient
terraces and some buildings. Not far from Rumiccolca, on the slopes
of Mt. Piquillacta, are the ruins of an extensive city, also called
Piquillacta. A large number of its houses have extraordinarily high
walls. A high wall outside the city, and running north and south,
was obviously built to protect it from enemies approaching from the
Vilcanota Valley. In the other directions the slopes are so steep as
to render a wall unnecessary. The walls are built of fragments of lava
rock, with which the slopes of Mt. Piquillacta are covered. Cacti and
thorny scrub are growing in the ruins, but the volcanic soil is rich
enough to attract the attention of agriculturists, who come here from
neighboring villages to cultivate their crops. The slopes above the
city are still extensively cultivated, but without terraces. Wheat
and barley are the principal crops.

As an illustration of the difficulty of identifying places in ancient
Peru, it is worth noting that the gateway now called Rumiccolca is
figured in Squier's "Peru" as "Piquillacta." On the other hand,
the ruins of the large city, "covering thickly an area nearly a
square mile," are called by Squier "the great Inca town of Muyna,"
a name also applied to the little lake which lies in the bottom of
the Lucre Basin. As Squier came along the road from Racche he saw
Mt. Piquillacta first, then the gateway, then Lake Muyna, then the
ruins of the city. In each case the name of the most conspicuous,
harmless, natural phenomenon seems to have been applied to ruins by
those of whom he inquired. My own experience was different.


Lucre Basin, Lake Muyna, and the City Wall of Piquillacta

Dr. Aguilar, a distinguished professor in the University of Cuzco, who
has a country place in the neighborhood and is very familiar with this
region, brought me to this ancient city from the other direction. From
him I learned that the city ruins are called Piquillacta, the name
which is also applied to the mountain which lies to the eastward
of the ruins and rises 1200 feet above them. Dr. Aguilar lives near
Oropesa. As one comes from Oropesa, Mt. Piquillacta is a conspicuous
point and is directly in line with the city ruins. Consequently,
it would be natural for people viewing it from this direction to
give to the ruins the name of the mountain rather than that of the
lake. Yet the mountain may be named for the ruins. Piqui means "flea";
llacta means "town, city, country, district, or territory." Was this
"The Territory of the Fleas" or was it "Flea Town"? And what was its
name in the days of the Incas? Was the old name abandoned because it
was considered unlucky?

Whatever the reason, it is a most extraordinary fact that we have
here the evidences of a very large town, possibly pre-Inca, long since
abandoned. There are scores of houses and numerous compounds laid out
in regular fashion, the streets crossing each other at right angles,
the whole covering an area considerably larger than the important town
of Ollantaytambo. Not a soul lives here. It is true that across the
Vilcanota to the east is a difficult, mountainous country culminating
in Mt. Ausangate, the highest peak in the department. Yet Piquillacta
is in the midst of a populous region. To the north lies the thickly
settled valley of Pisac and Yucay; to the south, the important
Vilcanota Valley with dozens of villages; to the west the densely
populated valley of the Huatanay and Cuzco itself, the largest city
in the highlands of Peru. Thousands of people live within a radius of
twenty miles of Piquillacta, and the population is on the increase. It
is perfectly easy of access and is less than a mile east of the
railroad. Yet it is "abandonado--desierto--despoblado"! Undoubtedly
here was once a large city of great importance. The reason for its
being abandoned appears to be the absence of running water. Although
Mt. Piquillacta is a large mass, nearly five miles long and two miles
wide, rising to a point of 2000 feet above the Huatanay and Vilcanota
rivers, it has no streams, brooks, or springs. It is an isolated,
extinct volcano surrounded by igneous rocks, lavas, andesites,
and basalts.

How came it that so large a city as Piquillacta could have been built
on the slopes of a mountain which has no running streams? Has the
climate changed so much since those days? If so, how is it that the
surrounding region is still the populous part of southern Peru? It is
inconceivable that so large a city could have been built and occupied
on a plateau four hundred feet above the nearest water unless there
was some way of providing it other than the arduous one of bringing
every drop up the hill on the backs of men and llamas. If there
were no places near here better provided with water than this site,
one could understand that perhaps its inhabitants were obliged to
depend entirely upon water carriers. On the contrary, within a radius
of six miles there are half a dozen unoccupied sites near running
streams. Until further studies can be made of this puzzling problem
I believe that the answer lies in the ruins of Rumiccolca, which are
usually thought of as a fortress.

Squier says that this "fortress" was "the southern limit of the
dominions of the first Inca." "The fortress reaches from the mountain,
on one side, to a high, rocky eminence on the other. It is popularly
called 'El Aqueducto,' perhaps from some fancied resemblance to an
aqueduct--but the name is evidently misapplied." Yet he admits that the
cross-section of the wall, diminishing as it does "by graduations or
steps on both sides," "might appear to conflict with the hypothesis
of its being a work of defense or fortification" if it occupied
"a different position." He noticed that "the top of the wall is
throughout of the same level; becomes less in height as it approaches
the hills on either hand and diminishes proportionately in thickness"
as an aqueduct should do. Yet, so possessed was he by the "fortress"
idea that he rejected not only local tradition as expressed in the
native name, but even turned his back on the evidence of his own
eyes. It seems to me that there is little doubt that instead of the
ruins of Rumiccolca representing a fortification, we have here the
remains of an ancient azequia, or aqueduct, built by some powerful
chieftain to supply the people of Piquillacta with water.

A study of the topography of the region shows that the river which
rises southwest of the village of Lucre and furnishes water power
for its modern textile mills could have been used to supply such
an azequia. The water, collected at an elevation of 10,700 feet,
could easily have been brought six miles along the southern slopes
of the Lucre Basin, around Mt. Rumiccolca and across the old road,
on this aqueduct, at an elevation of about 10,600 feet. This would
have permitted it to flow through some of the streets of Piquillacta
and give the ancient city an adequate supply of water. The slopes
of Rumiccolca are marked by many ancient terraces. Their upper limit
corresponds roughly with the contour along which such an azequia would
have had to pass. There is, in fact, a distinct line on the hillside
which looks as though an azequia had once passed that way. In the
valley back of Lucre are also faint indications of old azequias. There
has been, however, a considerable amount of erosion on the hills,
and if, as seems likely, the water-works have been out of order for
several centuries, it is not surprising that all traces of them have
disappeared in places. I regret very much that circumstances over
which I had no control prevented my making a thorough study of the
possibilities of such a theory. It remains for some fortunate future
investigator to determine who were the inhabitants of Piquillacta,
how they secured their water supply, and why the city was abandoned.


Sacsahuaman: Detail of Lower Terrace Wall


Ruins of the Aqueduct of Rumiccolca

Until then I suggest as a possible working hypothesis that we have at
Piquillacta the remains of a pre-Inca city; that its chiefs and people
cultivated the Lucre Basin and its tributaries; that as a community
they were a separate political entity from the people of Cuzco;
that the ruler of the Cuzco people, perhaps an Inca, finally became
sufficiently powerful to conquer the people of the Lucre Basin, and
removed the tribes which had occupied Piquillacta to a distant part of
his domain, a system of colonization well known in the history of the
Incas; that, after the people who had built and lived in Piquillacta
departed, no subsequent dwellers in this region cared to reoccupy the
site, and its aqueduct fell into decay. It is easy to believe that
at first such a site would have been considered unlucky. Its houses,
unfamiliar and unfashionable in design, would have been considered not
desirable. Their high walls might have been used for a reconstructed
city had there been plenty of water available. In any case, the ruins
of the Lucre Basin offer a most fascinating problem.

In the Oropesa Basin the most important ruins are those of Tipon,
a pleasant, well-watered valley several hundred feet above the
village of Quispicanchi. They include carefully constructed houses
of characteristic Inca construction, containing many symmetrically
arranged niches with stone lintels. The walls of most of the houses
are of rough stones laid in clay. Tipon was probably the residence
of the principal chief of the Oropesa Basin. It commands a pleasant
view of the village and of the hills to the south, which to-day
are covered with fields of wheat and barley. At Tipon there is a
nicely constructed fountain of cut stone. Some of the terraces are
extremely well built, with roughly squared blocks fitting tightly
together. Access from one terrace to another was obtained by steps made
each of a single bonder projecting from the face of the terrace. Few
better constructed terrace walls are to be seen anywhere. The terraces
are still cultivated by the people of Quispicanchi. No one lives at
Tipon now, although little shepherd boys and goatherds frequent the
neighborhood. It is more convenient for the agriculturists to live
at the edge of their largest fields, which are in the valley bottom,
than to climb five hundred feet into the narrow valley and occupy the
old buildings. Motives of security no longer require a residence here
rather than in the open plain.

While I was examining the ruins and digging up a few attractive
potsherds bearing Inca designs, Dr. Giesecke, the President of the
University of Cuzco, who had accompanied me, climbed the mountain above
Tipon with Dr. Aguilar and reported the presence of a fortification
near its summit. My stay at Oropesa was rendered most comfortable
and happy by the generous hospitality of Dr. Aguilar, whose finca
is between Quispicanchi and Oropesa and commands a charming view of
the valley.

From the Oropesa Basin, one enters the Cuzco Basin through an opening
in the sandstone cliffs of Angostura near the modern town of San
Geronimo. On the slopes above the south bank of the Huatanay, just
beyond Angostura, are the ruins of a score or more of gable-roofed
houses of characteristic Inca construction. The ancient buildings
have doors, windows, and niches in walls of small stones laid in clay,
the lintels having been of wood, now decayed. When we asked the name
of these ruins we were told that it was Saylla, although that is
the name of a modern village three miles away, down the Huatanay,
in the Oropesa Basin. Like Piquillacta, old Saylla has no water
supply at present. It is not far from a stream called the Kkaira
and could easily have been supplied with water by an azequia less
than two miles in length brought along the 11,000 feet contour. It
looks very much like the case of a village originally placed on the
hills for the sake of comparative security and isolation and later
abandoned through a desire to enjoy the advantages of living near
the great highway in the bottom of the valley, after the Incas had
established peace over the highlands. There may be another explanation.

It appears from Mr. Cook's studies that the deforestation of the Cuzco
Basin by the hand of man, and modern methods of tillage on unterraced
slopes, have caused an unusual amount of erosion to occur. Landslides
are frequent in the rainy season.

Opposite Saylla is Mt. Picol, whose twin peaks are the most conspicuous
feature on the north side of the basin. Waste material from its
slopes is causing the rapid growth of a great gravel fan north of the
village of San Geronimo. Professor Gregory noticed that the streams
traversing the fan are even now engaged in burying ancient fields by
"transporting gravel from the head of the fan to its lower margin,"
and that the lower end of the Cuzco Basin, where the Huatanay, hemmed
in between the Angostura Narrows, cannot carry away the sediment as
fast as it is brought down by its tributaries, is being choked up. If
old Saylla represents a fortress set here to defend Cuzco against old
Oropesa, it might very naturally have been abandoned when the rule
of the Incas finally spread far over the Andes. On the other hand,
it seems more likely that the people who built Saylla were farmers
and that when the lower Cuzco Basin was filled up by aggradation,
due to increased erosion, they abandoned this site for one nearer the
arable lands. One may imagine the dismay with which the agricultural
residents of these ancient houses saw their beautiful fields at the
bottom of the hill, covered in a few days, or even hours, by enormous
quantities of coarse gravel brought down from the steep slopes of Picol
after some driving rainstorm. It may have been some such catastrophe
that led them to take up their residence elsewhere. As a matter of
fact we do not know when it was abandoned. Further investigation
might point to its having been deserted when the Spanish village of
San Geronimo was founded. However, I believe students of agriculture
will agree with me that deforestation, increased erosion, and aggrading
gravel banks probably drove the folk out of Saylla.

The southern rim of the Cuzco Basin is broken by no very striking
peaks, although Huanacaurai (13,427 ft.), the highest point, is
connected in Inca tradition with some of the principal festivals
and religious celebrations. The north side of the Huatanay Valley is
much more irregular, ranging from Ttica Ttica pass (12,000 ft.) to
Mt. Pachatucsa (15,915 ft.), whose five little peaks are frequently
snow-clad. There is no permanent snow either here or elsewhere in
the Huatanay Valley.

The people of the Cuzco Basin are very short of fuel. There is no
native coal. What the railroad uses comes from Australia. Firewood is
scarce. The ancient forests disappeared long ago. The only trees in
sight are a few willows or poplars from Europe and one or two groves of
eucalyptus, also from Australia. Cuzco has been thought of and written
of as being above the tree line, but such is not the case. The absence
of trees on the neighboring hills is due entirely to the hand of man,
the long occupation, the necessities of early agriculturists, who
cleared the forests before the days of intensive terrace agriculture,
and the firewood requirements of a large population. The people of
Cuzco do not dream of having enough fuel to make their houses warm
and comfortable. Only with difficulty can they get enough for cooking
purposes. They depend largely on fagots and straw which are brought
into town on the backs of men and animals.

In the fields of stubble left from the wheat and barley harvest we
saw many sheep feeding. They were thin and long-legged and many of
the rams had four horns, apparently due to centuries of inbreeding
and the failure to improve the original stock by the introduction of
new and superior strains.

When one looks at the great amount of arable slopes on most of the
hills of the Cuzco Basin and the unusually extensive flat land near the
Huatanay, one readily understands why the heart of Inca Land witnessed
a concentration of population very unusual in the Andes. Most of the
important ruins are in the northwest quadrant of the basin either in
the immediate vicinity of Cuzco itself or on the "pampas" north of the
city. The reason is that the arable lands where most extensive potato
cultivation could be carried out are nearly all in this quadrant. In
the midst of this potato country, at the foot of the pass that leads
directly to Pisac and Paucartambo, is a picturesque ruin which bears
the native name of Pucará.

Pucará is the Quichua word for fortress and it needs but one glance
at the little hilltop crowned with a rectangular fortification to
realize that the term is justified. The walls are beautifully made of
irregular blocks closely fitted together. Advantage was taken of small
cliffs on two sides of the hill to strengthen the fortifications. We
noticed openings or drains which had been cut in the wall by the
original builders in order to prevent the accumulation of moisture on
the terraced floor of the enclosed area, which is several feet above
that of the sloping field outside. Similar conduits may be seen in
many of the old walls in the city of Cuzco. Apparently, the ancient
folk fully appreciated the importance of good drainage and took pains
to secure it. At present Pucará is occupied by llama herdsmen and
drovers, who find the enclosure a very convenient corral. Probably
Pucará was built by the chief of a tribe of prehistoric herdsmen who
raised root crops and kept their flocks of llamas and alpacas on the
neighboring grassy slopes.

A short distance up the stream of the Lkalla Chaca, above Pucará, is
a warm mineral spring. Around it is a fountain of cut stone. Near by
are the ruins of a beautiful terrace, on top of which is a fine wall
containing four large, ceremonial niches, level with the ground and
about six feet high. The place is now called Tampu Machai. Polo de
Ondegardo, who lived in Cuzco in 1560, while many of the royal family
of the Incas were still alive, gives a list of the sacred or holy
places which were venerated by all the Indians in those days. Among
these he mentions that of Timpucpuquio, the "hot springs" near Tambo
Machai, "called so from the manner in which the water boils up." The
next huaca, or holy place, he mentions is Tambo Machai itself,
"a house of the Inca Yupanqui, where he was entertained when he
went to be married. It was placed on a hill near the road over the
Andes. They sacrifice everything here except children."

The stonework of the ruins here is so excellent in character, the
ashlars being very carefully fitted together, one may fairly assume
a religious origin for the place. The Quichua word macchini means
"to wash" or "to rinse a large narrow-mouthed pitcher." It may be
that at Tampu Machai ceremonial purification of utensils devoted to
royal or priestly uses was carried on. It is possible that this is
the place where, according to Molina, all the youths of Cuzco who had
been armed as knights in the great November festival came on the 21st
day of the month to bathe and change their clothes. Afterwards they
returned to the city to be lectured by their relatives. "Each relation
that offered a sacrifice flogged a youth and delivered a discourse to
him, exhorting him to be valiant and never to be a traitor to the Sun
and the Inca, but to imitate the bravery and prowess of his ancestors."

Tampu Machai is located on a little bluff above the Lkalla Chaca,
a small stream which finally joins the Huatanay near the town of San
Sebastian. Before it reaches the Huatanay, the Lkalla Chaca joins the
Cachimayo, famous as being so highly impregnated with salt as to have
caused the rise of extensive salt works. In fact, the Pizarros named
the place Las Salinas, or "the Salt Pits," on account of the salt
pans with which, by a careful system of terracing, the natives had
filled the Cachimayo Valley. Prescott describes the great battle which
took place here on April 26, 1539, between the forces of Pizarro and
Almagro, the two leaders who had united for the original conquest of
Peru, but quarreled over the division of the territory. Near the salt
pans are many Inca walls and the ruins of structures, with niches,
called Rumihuasi, or "Stone House." The presence of salt in many of
the springs of the Huatanay Valley was a great source of annoyance
to our topographic engineers, who were frequently obliged to camp in
districts where the only water available was so saline as to spoil
it for drinking purposes and ruin the tea.

The Cuzco Basin was undoubtedly once the site of a lake, "an ancient
water-body whose surface," says Professor Gregory, "lay well above
the present site of San Sebastian and San Geronimo." This lake is
believed to have reached its maximum expansion in early Pleistocene
times. Its rich silts, so well adapted for raising maize, habas beans,
and quinoa, have always attracted farmers and are still intensively
cultivated. It has been named "Lake Morkill" in honor of that loyal
friend of scientific research in Peru, William L. Morkill, Esq.,
without whose untiring aid we could never have brought our Peruvian
explorations as far along as we did. In pre-glacial times Lake Morkill
fluctuated in volume. From time to time parts of the shore were
exposed long enough to enable plants to send their roots into the fine
materials and the sun to bake and crack the muds. Mastodons grazed
on its banks. "Lake Morkill probably existed during all or nearly
all of the glacial epoch." Its drainage was finally accomplished
by the Huatanay cutting down the sandstone hills, near Saylla, and
developing the Angostura gorge.

In the banks of the Huatanay, a short distance below the city of
Cuzco, the stratified beds of the vanished Lake Morkill to-day
contain many fossil shells. Above these are gravels brought down by
the floods and landslides of more modern times, in which may be found
potsherds and bones. One of the chief affluents of the Huatanay is the
Chunchullumayo, which cuts off the southernmost third of Cuzco from
the center of the city. Its banks are terraced and are still used for
gardens and food crops. Here the hospitable Canadian missionaries have
their pleasant station, a veritable oasis of Anglo-Saxon cleanliness.

On a July morning in 1911, while strolling up the Ayahuaycco quebrada,
an affluent of the Chunchullumayo, in company with Professor Foote
and Surgeon Erving, my interest was aroused by the sight of several
bones and potsherds exposed by recent erosion in the stratified gravel
banks of the little gulch. Further examination showed that recent
erosion had also cut through an ancient ash heap. On the side toward
Cuzco I discovered a section of stone wall, built of roughly finished
stones more or less carefully fitted together, which at first sight
appeared to have been built to prevent further washing away of that
side of the gulch. Yet above the wall and flush with its surface
the bank appeared to consist of stratified gravel, indicating that
the wall antedated the gravel deposits. Fifty feet farther up the
quebrada another portion of wall appeared under the gravel bank. On
top of the bank was a cultivated field! Half an hour's digging in
the compact gravel showed that there was more wall underneath the
field. Later investigation by Dr. Bowman showed that the wall was
about three feet thick and nine feet in height, carefully faced on
both sides with roughly cut stone and filled in with rubble, a type
of stonework not uncommon in the foundations of some of the older
buildings in the western part of the city of Cuzco.


Huatanay Vallye, Cuzco, and the Ayahuaycco Quebrada

Even at first sight it was obvious that this wall, built by man,
was completely covered to a depth of six or eight feet by a compact
water-laid gravel bank. This was sufficiently difficult to understand,
yet a few days later, while endeavoring to solve the puzzle,
I found something even more exciting. Half a mile farther up the
gulch, the road, newly cut, ran close to the compact, perpendicular
gravel bank. About five feet above the road I saw what looked like
one of the small rocks which are freely interspersed throughout the
gravels here. Closer examination showed it to be the end of a human
femur. Apparently it formed an integral part of the gravel bank,
which rose almost perpendicularly for seventy or eighty feet above
it. Impressed by the possibilities in case it should turn out to be
true that here, in the heart of Inca Land, a human bone had been buried
under seventy-five feet of gravel, I refrained from disturbing it
until I could get Dr. Bowman and Professor Foote, the geologist and the
naturalist of the 1911 Expedition, to come with me to the Ayahuaycco
quebrada. We excavated the femur and found behind it fragments of
a number of other bones. They were excessively fragile. The femur
was unable to support more than four inches of its own weight and
broke off after the gravel had been partly removed. Although the
gravel itself was somewhat damp the bones were dry and powdery,
ashy gray in color. The bones were carried to the Hotel Central,
where they were carefully photographed, soaked in melted vaseline,
packed in cotton batting, and eventually brought to New Haven. Here
they were examined by Dr. George F. Eaton, Curator of Osteology in
the Peabody Museum. In the meantime Dr. Bowman had become convinced
that the compact gravels of Ayahuaycco were of glacial origin.

When Dr. Eaton first examined the bone fragments he was surprised
to find among them the bone of a horse. Unfortunately a careful
examination of the photographs taken in Cuzco of all the fragments
which were excavated by us on July 11th failed to reveal this
particular bone. Dr. Bowman, upon being questioned, said that he had
dug out one or two more bones in the cliff adjoining our excavation
of July 11th and had added these to the original lot. Presumably
this horse bone was one which he had added when the bones were
packed. It did not worry him, however, and so sure was he of his
interpretation of the gravel beds that he declared he did not care
if we had found the bone of a Percheron stallion, he was sure that
the age of the vertebrate remains might be "provisionally estimated
at 20,000 to 40,000 years," until further studies could be made of
the geology of the surrounding territory. In an article on the buried
wall, Dr. Bowman came to the conclusion that "the wall is pre-Inca,
that its relations to alluvial deposits which cover it indicate its
erection before the alluvial slope in which it lies buried was formed,
and that it represents the earliest type of architecture at present
known in the Cuzco basin."

Dr. Eaton's study of the bones brought out the fact that eight
of them were fragments of human bones representing at least three
individuals, four were fragments of llama bones, one of the bone
of a dog, and three were "bovine remains." The human remains agreed
"in all essential respects" with the bones of modern Quichuas. Llama
and dog might all have belonged to Inca, or even more recent times,
but the bovine remains presented considerable difficulty. The three
fragments were from bones which "are among the least characteristic
parts of the skeleton." That which was of greatest interest was the
fragment of a first rib, resembling the first rib of the extinct
bison. Since this fragmentary bovine rib was of a form apparently
characteristic of bisons and not seen in the domestic cattle of the
United States, Dr. Eaton felt that it could not be denied "that
the material examined suggests the possibility that some species
of bison is here represented, yet it would hardly be in accordance
with conservative methods to differentiate bison from domestic cattle
solely by characters obtained from a study of the first ribs of a small
number of individuals." Although staunchly supporting his theory of
the age of the vertebrate remains, Dr. Bowman in his report on their
geological relations admitted that the weakness of his case lay in the
fact that the bovine remains were not sharply differentiated from the
bones of modern cattle, and also in the possibility that "the bluff
in which the bones were found may be faced by younger gravel and that
the bones were found in a gravel veneer deposited during later periods
of partial valley filling, ... although it still seems very unlikely."

Reports of glacial man in America have come from places as widely
separated as California and Argentina. Careful investigation, however,
has always thrown doubt on any great age being certainly attributable
to any human remains. In view of the fragmentary character of the
skeletal evidence, the fact that no proof of great antiquity could
be drawn from the characters of the human skeletal parts, and the
suggestion made by Dr. Bowman of the possibility that the gravels
which contained the bones might be of a later origin than he thought,
we determined to make further and more complete investigations in
1912. It was most desirable to clear up all doubts and dissolve all
skepticism. I felt, perhaps mistakenly, that while a further study
of the geology of the Cuzco Basin undoubtedly might lead Dr. Bowman
to reverse his opinion, as was expected by some geologists, if
it should lead him to confirm his original conclusions the same
skeptics would be likely to continue their skepticism and say he
was trying to bolster up his own previous opinions. Accordingly, I
believed it preferable to take another geologist, whose independent
testimony would give great weight to those conclusions should he
find them confirmed by an exhaustive geological study of the Huatanay
Valley. I asked Dr. Bowman's colleague, Professor Gregory, to make the
necessary studies. At his request a very careful map of the Huatanay
Valley was prepared under the direction of Chief Topographer Albert
H. Bumstead. Dr. Eaton, who had had no opportunity of seeing Peru,
was invited to accompany us and make a study of the bones of modern
Peruvian cattle as well as of any other skeletal remains which might
be found.

Furthermore, it seemed important to me to dig a tunnel into the
Ayahuaycco hillside at the exact point from which we took the bones
in 1911. So I asked Mr. K. C. Heald, whose engineering training had
been in Colorado, to superintend it. Mr. Heald dug a tunnel eleven
feet long, with a cross-section four and a half by three feet, into
the solid mass of gravel. He expected to have to use timbering, but
so firmly packed was the gravel that this was not necessary. No bones
or artifacts were found--nothing but coarse gravel, uniform in texture
and containing no unmistakable evidences of stratification. Apparently
the bones had been in a land slip on the edge of an older, compact
gravel mass.

In his studies of the Cuzco Basin Professor Gregory came to the
conclusion that the Ayahuaycco gravel banks might have been repeatedly
buried and reëxcavated many times during the past few centuries. He
found evidence indicating periodic destruction and rebuilding of some
gravel terraces, "even within the past one hundred years." Accordingly
there was no longer any necessity to ascribe great antiquity to the
bones or the wall which we found in the Ayahuaycco quebrada. Although
the "Cuzco gravels are believed to have reached their greatest extent
and thickness in late Pleistocene times," more recent deposits have,
however, been superimposed on top and alongside of them. "Surface
wash from the bordering slopes, controlled in amount and character by
climatic changes, has probably been accumulating continuously since
glacial times, and has greatly increased since human occupation
began." "Geologic data do not require more than a few hundreds of
years as the age of the human remains found in the Cuzco gravels."

But how about the "bison"? Soon after his arrival in Cuzco, Dr. Eaton
examined the first ribs of carcasses of beef animals offered for sale
in the public markets. He immediately became convinced that the "bison"
was a Peruvian domestic ox. "Under the life-conditions prevailing in
this part of the Andes, and possibly in correlation with the increased
action of the respiratory muscles in a rarefied air, domestic cattle
occasionally develop first ribs, closely approaching the form observed
in bison." Such was the sad end of the "bison" and the "Cuzco man,"
who at one time I thought might be forty thousand years old, and
now believe to have been two hundred years old, perhaps. The word
Ayahuaycco in Quichua means "the valley of dead bodies" or "dead
man's gulch." There is a story that it was used as a burial place
for plague victims in Cuzco, not more than three generations ago!


The Oldest City in South America

Cuzco, the oldest city in South America, has changed completely since
Squier's visit. In fact it has altered considerably since my own
first impressions of it were published in "Across South America." To
be sure, there are still the evidences of antiquity to be seen on
every side; on the other hand there are corresponding evidences
of advancement. Telephones, electric lights, street cars, and the
"movies" have come to stay. The streets are cleaner. If the modern
traveler finds fault with some of the conditions he encounters he
must remember that many of the achievements of the people of ancient
Cuzco are not yet duplicated in his own country nor have they ever
been equaled in any other part of the world. And modern Cuzco is
steadily progressing. The great square in front of the cathedral was
completely metamorphosed by Prefect Nuñez in 1911; concrete walks
and beds of bright flowers have replaced the market and the old
cobblestone paving and made the plaza a favorite promenade of the
citizens on pleasant evenings.

The principal market-place now is the Plaza of San Francisco. It is
crowded with booths of every description. Nearly all of the food-stuffs
and utensils used by the Indians may be bought here. Frequently
thronged with Indians, buying and selling, arguing and jabbering,
it affords, particularly in the early morning, a never-ending source
of entertainment to one who is fond of the picturesque and interested
in strange manners and customs.

The retail merchants of Cuzco follow the very old custom of
congregating by classes. In one street are the dealers in hats; in
another those who sell coca. The dressmakers and tailors are nearly
all in one long arcade in a score or more of dark little shops. Their
light seems to come entirely from the front door. The occupants are
operators of American sewing-machines who not only make clothing to
order, but always have on hand a large assortment of standard sizes and
patterns. In another arcade are the shops of those who specialize in
everything which appeals to the eye and the pocketbook of the arriero:
richly decorated halters, which are intended to avert the Evil Eye
from his best mules; leather knapsacks in which to carry his coca or
other valuable articles; cloth cinches and leather bridles; rawhide
lassos, with which he is more likely to make a diamond hitch than
to rope a mule; flutes to while away the weary hours of his journey,
and candles to be burned before his patron saint as he starts for some
distant village; in a word, all the paraphernalia of his profession.


Map of Peru and view of Cuzco

From the "Speculum Orbis Terrarum," Antwerp, 1578.

In order to learn more about the picturesque Quichuas who throng the
streets of Cuzco it was felt to be important to secure anthropometric
measurements of a hundred Indians. Accordingly, Surgeon Nelson set up
a laboratory in the Hotel Central. His subjects were the unwilling
victims of friendly gendarmes who went out into the streets with
orders to bring for examination only pure-blooded Quichuas. Most
of the Indians showed no resentment and were in the end pleased and
surprised to find themselves the recipients of a small silver coin
as compensation for loss of time.

One might have supposed that a large proportion of Dr. Nelson's
subjects would have claimed Cuzco as their native place, but this was
not the case. Actually fewer Indians came from the city itself than
from relatively small towns like Anta, Huaracondo, and Maras. This
may have been due to a number of causes. In the first place,
the gendarmes may have preferred to arrest strangers from distant
villages, who would submit more willingly. Secondly, the city folk
were presumably more likely to be in their shops attending to their
business or watching their wares in the plaza, an occupation which the
gendarmes could not interrupt. On the other hand it is also probably
true that the residents of Cuzco are of more mixed descent than those
of remote villages, where even to-day one cannot find more than two
or three individuals who speak Spanish. Furthermore, the attention
of the gendarmes might have been drawn more easily to the quaintly
caparisoned Indians temporarily in from the country, where city
fashions do not prevail, than to those who through long residence
in the city had learned to adopt a costume more in accordance with
European notions. In 1870, according to Squier, seven eighths of
the population of Cuzco were still pure Indian. Even to-day a large
proportion of the individuals whom one sees in the streets appears
to be of pure aboriginal ancestry. Of these we found that many are
visitors from outlying villages. Cuzco is the Mecca of the most
densely populated part of the Andes.

Probably a large part of its citizens are of mixed Spanish and Quichua
ancestry. The Spanish conquistadores did not bring European women
with them. Nearly all took native wives. The Spanish race is composed
of such an extraordinary mixture of peoples from Europe and northern
Africa, Celts, Iberians, Romans, and Goths, as well as Carthaginians,
Berbers, and Moors, that the Hispanic peoples have far less antipathy
toward intermarriage with the American race than have the Anglo-Saxons
and Teutons of northern Europe. Consequently, there has gone on for
centuries intermarriage of Spaniards and Indians with results which
are difficult to determine. Some writers have said there were once
200,000 people in Cuzco. With primitive methods of transportation
it would be very difficult to feed so many. Furthermore, in 1559,
there were, according to Montesinos, only 20,000 Indians in Cuzco.

One of the charms of Cuzco is the juxtaposition of old and new. Street
cars clanging over steel rails carry crowds of well-dressed Cuzceños
past Inca walls to greet their friends at the railroad station. The
driver is scarcely able by the most vigorous application of his
brakes to prevent his mules from crashing into a compact herd of
quiet, supercilious llamas sedately engaged in bringing small sacks of
potatoes to the Cuzco market. The modern convent of La Merced is built
of stones taken from ancient Inca structures. Fastened to ashlars which
left the Inca stonemason's hands six or seven centuries ago, one sees a
bill-board advertising Cuzco's largest moving-picture theater. On the
2d of July, 1915, the performance was for the benefit of the Belgian
Red Cross! Gazing in awe at this sign were Indian boys from some remote
Andean village where the custom is to wear ponchos with broad fringes,
brightly colored, and knitted caps richly decorated with tasseled
tops and elaborate ear-tabs, a costume whose design shows no trace
of European influence. Side by side with these picturesque visitors
was a barefooted Cuzco urchin clad in a striped jersey, cloth cap,
coat, and pants of English pattern.

One sees electric light wires fastened to the walls of houses
built four hundred years ago by the Spanish conquerors, walls which
themselves rest on massive stone foundations laid by Inca masons
centuries before the conquest. In one place telephone wires intercept
one's view of the beautiful stone facade of an old Jesuit Church, now
part of the University of Cuzco. It is built of reddish basalt from
the quarries of Huaccoto, near the twin peaks of Mt. Picol. Professor
Gregory says that this Huaccoto basalt has a softness and uniformity
of texture which renders it peculiarly suitable for that elaborately
carved stonework which was so greatly desired by ecclesiastical
architects of the sixteenth century. As compared with the dense
diorite which was extensively used by the Incas, the basalt weathers
far more rapidly. The rich red color of the weathered portions gives
to the Jesuit Church an atmosphere of extreme age. The courtyard of
the University, whose arcades echoed to the feet of learned Jesuit
teachers long before Yale was founded, has recently been paved with
concrete, transformed into a tennis court, and now echoes to the
shouts of students to whom Dr. Giesecke, the successful president, is
teaching the truth of the ancient axiom, "Mens sana in corpore sano."

Modern Cuzco is a city of about 20,000 people. Although it is the
political capital of the most important department in southern Peru,
it had in 1911 only one hospital--a semi-public, non-sectarian
organization on the west of the city, next door to the largest
cemetery. In fact, so far away is it from everything else and
so close to the cemetery that the funeral wreaths and the more
prominent monuments are almost the only interesting things which the
patients have to look at. The building has large courtyards and open
colonnades, which would afford ideal conditions for patients able to
take advantage of open-air treatment. At the time of Surgeon Erving's
visit he found the patients were all kept in wards whose windows
were small and practically always closed and shuttered, so that the
atmosphere was close and the light insufficient. One could hardly
imagine a stronger contrast than exists between such wards and those
to which we are accustomed in the United States, where the maximum
of sunlight and fresh air is sought and patients are encouraged to
sit out-of-doors, and even have their cots on porches. There was
no resident physician. The utmost care was taken throughout the
hospital to have everything as dark as possible, thus conforming to
the ancient mountain traditions regarding the evil effects of sunlight
and fresh air. Needless to say, the hospital has a high mortality
and a very poor local reputation; yet it is the only hospital in the
Department. Outside of Cuzco, in all the towns we visited, there was
no provision for caring for the sick except in their own homes. In
the larger places there are shops where some of the more common drugs
may be obtained, but in the great majority of towns and villages
no modern medicines can be purchased. No wonder President Giesecke,
of the University, is urging his students to play football and tennis.


Towers of Jesuit Church With Cloisters and Tennis Court of University,

On the slopes of the hill which overshadows the University are the
interesting terraces of Colcampata. Here, in 1571, lived Carlos Inca,
a cousin of Inca Titu Cusi, one of the native rulers who succeeded
in maintaining a precarious existence in the wilds of the Cordillera
Uilcapampa after the Spanish Conquest. In the gardens of Colcampata
is still preserved one of the most exquisite bits of Inca stonework to
be seen in Peru. One wonders whether it is all that is left of a fine
palace, or whether it represents the last efforts of a dying dynasty
to erect a suitable residence for Titu Cusi's cousin. It is carefully
preserved by Don Cesare Lomellini, the leading business man of Cuzco, a
merchant prince of Italian origin, who is at once a banker, an exporter
of hides and other country produce, and an importer of merchandise of
every description, including pencils and sugar mills, lumber and hats,
candy and hardware. He is also an amateur of Spanish colonial furniture
as well as of the beautiful pottery of the Incas. Furthermore, he
has always found time to turn aside from the pressing cares of his
large business to assist our expeditions. He has frequently brought
us in touch with the owners of country estates, or given us letters
of introduction, so that our paths were made easy. He has provided us
with storerooms for our equipment, assisted us in procuring trustworthy
muleteers, seen to it that we were not swindled in local purchases
of mules and pack saddles, given us invaluable advice in overcoming
difficulties, and, in a word, placed himself wholly at our disposal,
just as though we were his most desirable and best-paying clients. As
a matter of fact, he never was willing to receive any compensation
for the many favors he showed us. So important a factor was he in
the success of our expeditions that he deserves to be gratefully
remembered by all friends of exploration.

Above his country house at Colcampata is the hill of Sacsahuaman. It
is possible to scramble up its face, but only by making more exertion
than is desirable at this altitude, 11,900 feet. The easiest way to
reach the famous "fortress" is by following the course of the little
Tullumayu, "Feeble Stream," the easternmost of the three canalized
streams which divide Cuzco into four parts. On its banks one first
passes a tannery and then, a short distance up a steep gorge, the
remains of an old mill. The stone flume and the adjoining ruins
are commonly ascribed by the people of Cuzco to-day to the Incas,
but do not look to me like Inca stonework. Since the Incas did not
understand the mechanical principle of the wheel, it is hardly likely
that they would have known how to make any use of water power. Finally,
careful examination of the flume discloses the presence of lead cement,
a substance unknown in Inca masonry.

A little farther up the stream one passes through a massive
megalithic gateway and finds one's self in the presence of the
astounding gray-blue Cyclopean walls of Sacsahuaman, described in
"Across South America." Here the ancient builders constructed three
great terraces, which extend one above another for a third of a mile
across the hill between two deep gulches. The lowest terrace of the
"fortress" is faced with colossal boulders, many of which weigh ten
tons and some weigh more than twenty tons, yet all are fitted together
with the utmost precision. I have visited Sacsahuaman repeatedly. Each
time it invariably overwhelms and astounds. To a superstitious Indian
who sees these walls for the first time, they must seem to have been
built by gods.

About a mile northeast of Sacsahuaman are several small artificial
hills, partly covered with vegetation, which seem to be composed
entirely of gray-blue rock chips--chips from the great limestone blocks
quarried here for the "fortress" and later conveyed with the utmost
pains down to Sacsahuaman. They represent the labor of countless
thousands of quarrymen. Even in modern times, with steam drills,
explosives, steel tools, and light railways, these hills would
be noteworthy, but when one pauses to consider that none of these
mechanical devices were known to the ancient stonemasons and that
these mountains of stone chips were made with stone tools and were all
carried from the quarries by hand, it fairly staggers the imagination.

The ruins of Sacsahuaman represent not only an incredible amount of
human labor, but also a very remarkable governmental organization. That
thousands of people could have been spared from agricultural
pursuits for so long a time as was necessary to extract the blocks
from the quarries, hew them to the required shapes, transport them
several miles over rough country, and bond them together in such an
intricate manner, means that the leaders had the brains and ability
to organize and arrange the affairs of a very large population. Such
a folk could hardly have spent much time in drilling or preparing for
warfare. Their building operations required infinite pains, endless
time, and devoted skill. Such qualities could hardly have been called
forth, even by powerful monarchs, had not the results been pleasing
to the great majority of their people, people who were primarily
agriculturists. They had learned to avert hunger and famine by relying
on carefully built, stone-faced terraces, which would prevent their
fields being carried off and spread over the plains of the Amazon. It
seems to me possible that Sacsahuaman was built in accordance with
their desires to please their gods. Is it not reasonable to suppose
that a people to whom stone-faced terraces meant so much in the way
of life-giving food should have sometimes built massive terraces of
Cyclopean character, like Sacsahuaman, as an offering to the deity
who first taught them terrace construction? This seems to me a more
likely object for the gigantic labor involved in the construction
of Sacsahuaman than its possible usefulness as a fortress. Equally
strong defenses against an enemy attempting to attack the hilltop
back of Cuzco might have been constructed of smaller stones in an
infinitely shorter time, with far less labor and pains.

Such a display of the power to control the labor of thousands of
individuals and force them to superhuman efforts on an unproductive
undertaking, which in its agricultural or strategic results was out
of all proportion to the obvious cost, might have been caused by the
supreme vanity of a great soldier. On the other hand, the ancient
Peruvians were religious rather than warlike, more inclined to worship
the sun than to fight great battles. Was Sacsahuaman due to the desire
to please, at whatever cost, the god that fructified the crops which
grew on terraces? It is not surprising that the Spanish conquerors,
warriors themselves and descendants of twenty generations of a fighting
race, accustomed as they were to the salients of European fortresses,
should have looked upon Sacsahuaman as a fortress. To them the military
use of its bastions was perfectly obvious. The value of its salients
and reëntrant angles was not likely to be overlooked, for it had
been only recently acquired by their crusading ancestors. The height
and strength of its powerful walls enabled it to be of the greatest
service to the soldiers of that day. They saw that it was virtually
impregnable for any artillery with which they were familiar. In fact,
in the wars of the Incas and those which followed Pizarro's entry
into Cuzco, Sacsahuaman was repeatedly used as a fortress.

So it probably never occurred to the Spaniards that the Peruvians,
who knew nothing of explosive powder or the use of artillery, did
not construct Sacsahuaman in order to withstand such a siege as the
fortresses of Europe were only too familiar with. So natural did it
seem to the first Europeans who saw it to regard it as a fortress
that it has seldom been thought of in any other way. The fact that
the sacred city of Cuzco was more likely to be attacked by invaders
coming up the valley, or even over the gentle slopes from the west,
or through the pass from the north which for centuries has been
used as part of the main highway of the central Andes, never seems
to have troubled writers who regarded Sacsahuaman essentially as a
fortress. It may be that Sacsahuaman was once used as a place where
the votaries of the sun gathered at the end of the rainy season to
celebrate the vernal equinox, and at the summer solstice to pray for
the sun's return from his "farthest north." In any case I believe
that the enormous cost of its construction shows that it was probably
intended for religious rather than military purposes. It is more
likely to have been an ancient shrine than a mighty fortress.

It now becomes necessary, in order to explain my explorations north
of Cuzco, to ask the reader's attention to a brief account of the
last four Incas who ruled over any part of Peru.


The Last Four Incas

Readers of Prescott's charming classic, "The Conquest of Peru,"
will remember that Pizarro, after killing Atahualpa, the Inca who
had tried in vain to avoid his fate by filling a room with vessels
of gold, decided to establish a native prince on the throne of the
Incas to rule in accordance with the dictates of Spain. The young
prince, Manco, a son of the great Inca Huayna Capac, named for the
first Inca, Manco Ccapac, the founder of the dynasty, was selected
as the most acceptable figurehead. He was a young man of ability
and spirit. His induction into office in 1534 with appropriate
ceremonies, the barbaric splendor of which only made the farce the
more pitiful, did little to gratify his natural ambition. As might
have been foreseen, he chafed under restraint, escaped as soon as
possible from his attentive guardians, and raised an army of faithful
Quichuas. There followed the siege of Cuzco, briefly characterized
by Don Alonzo Enriques de Guzman, who took part in it, as "the most
fearful and cruel war in the world." When in 1536 Cuzco was relieved
by Pizarro's comrade, Almagro, and Manco's last chance of regaining
the ancient capital of his ancestors failed, the Inca retreated to
Ollantaytambo. Here, on the banks of the river Urubamba, Manco made a
determined stand, but Ollantaytambo was too easily reached by Pizarro's
mounted cavaliers. The Inca's followers, although aroused to their
utmost endeavors by the presence of the magnificent stone edifices,
fortresses, granaries, palaces, and hanging gardens of their ancestors,
found it necessary to retreat. They fled in a northerly direction and
made good their escape over snowy passes to Uiticos in the fastnesses
of Uilcapampa, a veritable American Switzerland.


Glaciers Between Cuzco and Uiticos

The Spaniards who attempted to follow Manco found his position
practically impregnable. The citadel of Uilcapampa, a gigantic
natural fortress defended by Nature in one of her profoundest moods,
was only to be reached by fording dangerous torrents, or crossing
the mountains by narrow defiles which themselves are higher than
the most lofty peaks of Europe. It was hazardous for Hannibal and
Napoleon to bring their armies through the comparatively low passes
of the Alps. Pizarro found it impossible to follow the Inca Manco
over the Pass of Panticalla, itself a snowy wilderness higher than
the summit of Mont Blanc. In no part of the Peruvian Andes are there
so many beautiful snowy peaks. Near by is the sharp, icy pinnacle
of Mt. Veronica (elevation 19,342 ft.). Not far away is another
magnificent snow-capped peak, Mt. Salcantay, 20,565 feet above the
sea. Near Salcantay is the sharp needle of Mt. Soray (19,435 ft.),
while to the west of it are Panta (18,590 ft.) and Soiroccocha (18,197
ft.). On the shoulders of these mountains are unnamed glaciers and
little valleys that have scarcely ever been seen except by some hardy
prospector or inquisitive explorer. These valleys are to be reached
only through passes where the traveler is likely to be waylaid by
violent storms of hail and snow. During the rainy season a large part
of Uilcapampa is absolutely impenetrable. Even in the dry season the
difficulties of transportation are very great. The most sure-footed
mule is sometimes unable to use the trails without assistance from
man. It was an ideal place for the Inca Manco.

The conquistador, Cieza de Leon, who wrote in 1550 a graphic account
of the wars of Peru, says that Manco took with him a "great quantity
of treasure, collected from various parts ... and many loads of
rich clothing of wool, delicate in texture and very beautiful
and showy." The Spaniards were absolutely unable to conceive of
the ruler of a country traveling without rich "treasure." It is
extremely doubtful whether Manco burdened himself with much gold or
silver. Except for ornament there was little use to which he could
have put the precious metals and they would have served only to
arouse the cupidity of his enemies. His people had never been paid
in gold or silver. Their labor was his due, and only such part of it
as was needed to raise their own crops and make their own clothing
was allotted to them; in fact, their lives were in his hands and the
custom and usage of centuries made them faithful followers of their
great chief. That Manco, however, actually did carry off with him
beautiful textiles, and anything else which was useful, may be taken
for granted. In Uiticos, safe from the armed forces of his enemies,
the Inca was also able to enjoy the benefits of a delightful climate,
and was in a well-watered region where corn, potatoes, both white
and sweet, and the fruits of the temperate and sub-tropical regions
easily grow. Using this as a base, he was accustomed to sally forth
against the Spaniards frequently and in unexpected directions. His
raids were usually successful. It was relatively easy for him, with
a handful of followers, to dash out of the mountain fastnesses,
cross the Apurimac River either by swimming or on primitive rafts,
and reach the great road between Cuzco and Lima, the principal highway
of Peru. Officials and merchants whose business led them over this
route found it extremely precarious. Manco cheered his followers by
making them realize that in these raids they were taking sweet revenge
on the Spaniards for what they had done to Peru. It is interesting
to note that Cieza de Leon justifies Manco in his attitude, for the
Spaniards had indeed "seized his inheritance, forcing him to leave
his native land, and to live in banishment."

Manco's success in securing such a place of refuge, and in using
it as a base from which he could frequently annoy his enemies, led
many of the Orejones of Cuzco to follow him. The Inca chiefs were
called Orejones, "big ears," by the Spaniards because the lobes of
their ears had been enlarged artificially to receive the great gold
earrings which they were fond of wearing. Three years after Manco's
retirement to the wilds of Uilcapampa there was born in Cuzco in the
year 1539, Garcilasso Inca de la Vega, the son of an Inca princess
and one of the conquistadores. As a small child Garcilasso heard
of the activities of his royal relative. He left Peru as a boy and
spent the rest of his life in Spain. After forty years in Europe
he wrote, partly from memory, his "Royal Commentaries," an account
of the country of his Indian ancestors. Of the Inca Manco, of whom
he must frequently have heard uncomplimentary reports as a child,
he speaks apologetically. He says: "In the time of Manco Inca,
several robberies were committed on the road by his subjects; but
still they had that respect for the Spanish Merchants that they let
them go free and never pillaged them of their wares and merchandise,
which were in no manner useful to them; howsoever they robbed the
Indians of their cattle [llamas and alpacas], bred in the countrey
.... The Inca lived in the Mountains, which afforded no tame Cattel;
and only produced Tigers and Lions and Serpents of twenty-five and
thirty feet long, with other venomous insects." (I am quoting from Sir
Paul Rycaut's translation, published in London in 1688.) Garcilasso
says Manco's soldiers took only "such food as they found in the hands
of the Indians; which the Inca did usually call his own," saying,
"That he who was Master of that whole Empire might lawfully challenge
such a proportion thereof as was convenient to supply his necessary
and natural support"--a reasonable apology; and yet personally I doubt
whether Manco spared the Spanish merchants and failed to pillage them
of their "wares and merchandise." As will be seen later, we found
in Manco's palace some metal articles of European origin which might
very well have been taken by Manco's raiders. Furthermore, it should
be remembered that Garcilasso, although often quoted by Prescott,
left Peru when he was sixteen years old and that his ideas were
largely colored by his long life in Spain and his natural desire to
extol the virtues of his mother's people, a brown race despised by
the white Europeans for whom he wrote.

The methods of warfare and the weapons used by Manco and his followers
at this time are thus described by Guzman. He says the Indians had no
defensive arms such as helmets, shields, and armor, but used "lances,
arrows, dubs, axes, halberds, darts, and slings, and another weapon
which they call ayllas (the bolas), consisting of three round stones
sewn up in leather, and each fastened to a cord a cubit long. They
throw these at the horses, and thus bind their legs together; and
sometimes they will fasten a man's arms to his sides in the same
way. These Indians are so expert in the use of this weapon that they
will bring down a deer with it in the chase. Their principal weapon,
however, is the sling .... With it, they will hurl a huge stone with
such force that it will kill a horse; in truth, the effect is little
less great than that of an arquebus; and I have seen a stone, thus
hurled from a sling, break a sword in two pieces which was held in
a man's hand at a distance of thirty paces."

Manco's raids finally became so annoying that Pizarro sent a small
force from Cuzco under Captain Villadiego to attack the Inca. Captain
Villadiego found it impossible to use horses, although he realized
that cavalry was the "important arm against these Indians." Confident
in his strength and in the efficacy of his firearms, and anxious
to enjoy the spoils of a successful raid against a chief reported
to be traveling surrounded by his family "and with rich treasure,"
he pressed eagerly on, up through a lofty valley toward a defile in
the mountains, probably the Pass of Panticalla. Here, fatigued and
exhausted by their difficult march and suffering from the effects
of the altitude (16,000 ft.), his men found themselves ambushed by
the Inca, who with a small party, "little more than eighty Indians,"
"attacked the Christians, who numbered twenty-eight or thirty, and
killed Captain Villadiego and all his men except two or three." To any
one who has clambered over the passes of the Cordillera Uilcapampa
it is not surprising that this military expedition was a failure or
that the Inca, warned by keen-sighted Indians posted on appropriate
vantage points, could have succeeded in defeating a small force of
weary soldiers armed with the heavy blunderbuss of the seventeenth
century. In a rocky pass, protected by huge boulders, and surrounded
by quantities of natural ammunition for their slings, it must have
been relatively simple for eighty Quichuas, who could "hurl a huge
stone with such force that it would kill a horse," to have literally
stoned to death Captain Villadiego's little company before they could
have prepared their clumsy weapons for firing.


The Urubamba Canyon

A reason for the safety of the Incas in Uilcapampa.

The fugitives returned to Cuzco and reported their misfortune. The
importance of the reverse will be better appreciated if one remembers
that the size of the force with which Pizarro conquered Peru was less
than two hundred, only a few times larger than Captain Villadiego's
company which had been wiped out by Manco. Its significance is
further increased by the fact that the contemporary Spanish writers,
with all their tendency to exaggerate, placed Manco's force at only
"a little more than eighty Indians." Probably there were not even
that many. The wonder is that the Inca's army was not reported as
being several thousand.

Francisco Pizarro himself now hastily set out with a body of soldiers
determined to punish this young Inca who had inflicted such a blow on
the prestige of Spanish arms, "but this attempt also failed," for the
Inca had withdrawn across the rivers and mountains of Uilcapampa to
Uiticos, where, according to Cieza de Leon, he cheered his followers
with the sight of the heads of his enemies. Unfortunately for accuracy,
the custom of displaying on the ends of pikes the heads of one's
enemies was European and not Peruvian. To be sure, the savage Indians
of some of the Amazonian jungles do sometimes decapitate their enemies,
remove the bones of the skull, dry the shrunken scalp and face,
and wear the trophy as a mark of prowess just as the North American
Indians did the scalps of their enemies. Such customs had no place
among the peace-loving Inca agriculturists of central Peru. There were
no Spaniards living with Manco at that time to report any such outrage
on the bodies of Captain Villadiego's unfortunate men. Probably the
conquistadores supposed that Manco did what the Spaniards would have
done under similar circumstances.

Following the failure of Francisco Pizarro to penetrate to Uiticos,
his brother, Gonzalo, "undertook the pursuit of the Inca and occupied
some of his passes and bridges," but was unsuccessful in penetrating
the mountain labyrinth. Being less foolhardy than Captain Villadiego,
he did not come into actual conflict with Manco. Unable to subdue
the young Inca or prevent his raids on travelers from Cuzco to Lima,
Francisco Pizarro, "with the assent of the royal officers who were
with him," established the city of Ayacucho at a convenient point
on the road, so as to make it secure for travelers. Nevertheless,
according to Montesinos, Manco caused the good people of Ayacucho quite
a little trouble. Finally, Francisco Pizarro, "having taken one of
Manco's wives prisoner with other Indians, stripped and flogged her,
and then shot her to death with arrows."

Accounts of what happened in Uiticos under the rule of Manco are
not very satisfactory. Father Calancha, who published in 1639 his
"Coronica Moralizada," or "pious account of the missionary activities
of the Augustinians" in Peru, says that the Inca Manco was obeyed
by all the Indians who lived in a region extending "for two hundred
leagues and more toward the east and toward the south, where there
were innumerable Indians in various provinces." With customary monastic
zeal and proper religious fervor, Father Calancha accuses the Inca of
compelling the baptized Indians who fled to him from the Spaniards to
abandon their new faith, torturing those who would no longer worship
the old Inca "idols." This story need not be taken too literally,
although undoubtedly the escaped Indians acted as though they had
never been baptized.

Besides Indians fleeing from harsh masters, there came to Uilcapampa,
in 1542, Gomez Perez, Diego Mendez, and half a dozen other Spanish
fugitives, adherents of Almagro, "rascals," says Calancha, "worthy
of Manco's favor." Obliged by the civil wars of the conquistadores
to flee from the Pizarros, they were glad enough to find a welcome
in Uiticos. To while away the time they played games and taught
the Inca checkers and chess, as well as bowling-on-the-green and
quoits. Montesinos says they also taught him to ride horseback
and shoot an arquebus. They took their games very seriously and
occasionally violent disputes arose, one of which, as we shall see,
was to have fatal consequences. They were kept informed by Manco of
what was going on in the viceroyalty. Although "encompassed within
craggy and lofty mountains," the Inca was thoroughly cognizant of
all those "revolutions" which might be of benefit to him.

Perhaps the most exciting news that reached Uiticos in 1544 was in
regard to the arrival of the first Spanish viceroy. He brought the
New Laws, a result of the efforts of the good Bishop Las Casas to
alleviate the sufferings of the Indians. The New Laws provided, among
other things, that all the officers of the crown were to renounce
their repartimientos or holdings of Indian serfs, and that compulsory
personal service was to be entirely abolished. Repartimientos given
to the conquerors were not to pass to their heirs, but were to revert
to the king. In other words, the New Laws gave evidence that the
Spanish crown wished to be kind to the Indians and did not approve
of the Pizarros. This was good news for Manco and highly pleasing
to the refugees. They persuaded the Inca to write a letter to the
new viceroy, asking permission to appear before him and offer his
services to the king. The Spanish refugees told the Inca that by
this means he might some day recover his empire, "or at least the
best part of it." Their object in persuading the Inca to send such
a message to the viceroy becomes apparent when we learn that they
"also wrote as from themselves desiring a pardon for what was past"
and permission to return to Spanish dominions.

Gomez Perez, who seems to have been the active leader of the little
group, was selected to be the bearer of the letters from the Inca and
the refugees. Attended by a dozen Indians whom the Inca instructed
to act as his servants and bodyguard, he left Uilcapampa, presented
his letters to the viceroy, and gave him "a large relation of the
State and Condition of the Inca, and of his true and real designs
to doe him service." "The Vice-king joyfully received the news,
and granted a full and ample pardon of all crimes, as desired. And
as to the Inca, he made many kind expressions of love and respect,
truly considering that the Interest of the Inca might be advantageous
to him, both in War and Peace. And with this satisfactory answer
Gomez Perez returned both to the Inca and to his companions." The
refugees were delighted with the news and got ready to return to king
and country. Their departure from Uiticos was prevented by a tragic
accident, thus described by Garcilasso.

"The Inca, to humour the Spaniards and entertain himself with them,
had given directions for making a bowling-green; where playing one day
with Gomez Perez, he came to have some quarrel and difference with this
Perez about the measure of a Cast, which often happened between them;
for this Perez, being a person of a hot and fiery brain, without any
judgment or understanding, would take the least occasion in the world
to contend with and provoke the Inca .... Being no longer able to
endure his rudeness, the Inca punched him on the breast, and bid him
to consider with whom he talked. Perez, not considering in his heat
and passion either his own safety or the safety of his Companions,
lifted up his hand, and with the bowl struck the Inca so violently on
the head, that he knocked him down. [He died three days later.] The
Indians hereupon, being enraged by the death of their Prince, joined
together against Gomez and the Spaniards, who fled into a house,
and with their Swords in their hands defended the door; the Indians
set fire to the house, which being too hot for them, they sallied out
into the Marketplace, where the Indians assaulted them and shot them
with their Arrows until they had killed every man of them; and then
afterwards, out of mere rage and fury they designed either to eat
them raw as their custome was, or to burn them and cast their ashes
into the river, that no sign or appearance might remain of them; but
at length, after some consultation, they agreed to cast their bodies
into the open fields, to be devoured by vulters and birds of the air,
which they supposed to be the highest indignity and dishonour that
they could show to their Corps." Garcilasso concludes: "I informed
myself very perfectly from those chiefs and nobles who were present
and eye-witnesses of the unparalleled piece of madness of that rash
and hair-brained fool; and heard them tell this story to my mother
and parents with tears in their eyes." There are many versions of
the tragedy. [4] They all agree that a Spaniard murdered the Inca.

Thus, in 1545, the reign of an attractive and vigorous personality
was brought to an abrupt close. Manco left three young sons, Sayri
Tupac, Titu Cusi, and Tupac Amaru. Sayri Tupac, although he had not
yet reached his majority, became Inca in his father's stead, and with
the aid of regents reigned for ten years without disturbing his Spanish
neighbors or being annoyed by them, unless the reference in Montesinos
to a proposed burning of bridges near Abancay, under date of 1555,
is correct. By a curious lapse Montesinos ascribes this attempt to
the Inca Manco, who had been dead for ten years. In 1555 there came
to Lima a new viceroy, who decided that it would be safer if young
Sayri Tupac were within reach instead of living in the inaccessible
wilds of Uilcapampa. The viceroy wisely undertook to accomplish this
difficult matter through the Princess Beatrix Coya, an aunt of the
Inca, who was living in Cuzco. She took kindly to the suggestion and
dispatched to Uiticos a messenger, of the blood royal, attended by
Indian servants. The journey was a dangerous one; bridges were down
and the treacherous trails were well-nigh impassable. Sayri Tupac's
regents permitted the messenger to enter Uilcapampa and deliver the
viceroy's invitation, but were not inclined to believe that it was
quite so attractive as appeared on the surface, even though brought
to them by a kinsman. Accordingly, they kept the visitor as a hostage
and sent a messenger of their own to Cuzco to see if any foul play
could be discovered, and also to request that one John Sierra, a more
trusted cousin, be sent to treat in this matter. All this took time.

In 1558 the viceroy, becoming impatient, dispatched from Lima Friar
Melchior and one John Betanzos, who had married the daughter of the
unfortunate Inca Atahualpa and pretended to be very learned in his
wife's language. Montesinos says he was a "great linguist." They
started off quite confidently for Uiticos, taking with them several
pieces of velvet and damask, and two cups of gilded silver as
presents. Anxious to secure the honor of being the first to reach the
Inca, they traveled as fast as they could to the Chuquichaca bridge,
"the key to the valley of Uiticos." Here they were detained by the
soldiers of the regents. A day or so later John Sierra, the Inca's
cousin from Cuzco, arrived at the bridge and was allowed to proceed,
while the friar and Betanzos were still detained. John Sierra was
welcomed by the Inca and his nobles, and did his best to encourage
Sayri Tupac to accept the viceroy's offer. Finally John Betanzos and
the friar were also sent for and admitted to the presence of the Inca,
with the presents which the viceroy had sent. Sayri Tupac's first
idea was to remain free and independent as he had hitherto done,
so he requested the ambassadors to depart immediately with their
silver gilt cups. They were sent back by one of the western routes
across the Apurimac. A few days later, however, after John Sierra
had told him some interesting stories of life in Cuzco, the Inca
decided to reconsider the matter. His regents had a long debate,
observed the flying of birds and the nature of the weather, but
according to Garcilasso "made no inquiries of the devil." The omens
were favorable and the regents finally decided to allow the Inca to
accept the invitation of the viceroy.

Sayri Tupac, anxious to see something of the world, went directly
to Lima, traveling in a litter made of rich materials, carried by
relays chosen from the three hundred Indians who attended him. He
was kindly received by the viceroy, and then went to Cuzco, where
he lodged in his aunt's house. Here his relatives went to welcome
him. "I, myself," says Garcilasso, "went in the name of my Father. I
found him then playing a certain game used amongst the Indians .... I
kissed his hands, and delivered my Message; he commanded me to sit
down, and presently they brought two gilded cups of that Liquor,
made of Mayz [chicha] which scarce contained four ounces of Drink;
he took them both, and with his own Hand he gave one of them to me;
he drank, and I pledged him, which as we have said, is the custom of
Civility amongst them. This Ceremony being past, he asked me, Why I
did not meet him at Uillcapampa. I answered him, 'Inca, as I am but a
Youngman, the Governours make no account of me, to place me in such
Ceremonies as these!' 'How,' replied the Inca, 'I would rather have
seen you than all the Friers and Fathers in Town.' As I was going
away I made him a submissive bow and reverence, after the manner of
the Indians, who are of his Alliance and Kindred, at which he was so
much pleased, that he embraced me heartily, and with much affection,
as appeared by his Countenance."

Sayri Tupac now received the sacred Red Fringe of Inca sovereignty,
was married to a princess of the blood royal, joined her in baptism,
and took up his abode in the beautiful valley of Yucay, a day's
journey northeast of Cuzco, and never returned to Uiticos. His only
daughter finally married a certain Captain Garcia, of whom more
anon. Sayri Tupac died in 1560, leaving two brothers; the older,
Titu Cusi Yupanqui, illegitimate, and the younger, Tupac Amaru,
his rightful successor, an inexperienced youth.


Yucay, Last Home of Sayri Tupac

The throne of Uiticos was seized by Titu Cusi. The new Inca seems to
have been suspicious of the untimely death of Sayri Tupac, and to have
felt that the Spaniards were capable of more foul play. So with his
half-brother he stayed quietly in Uilcapampa. Their first visitor,
so far as we know, was Diego Rodriguez de Figueroa, who wrote an
interesting account of Uiticos and says he gave the Inca a pair of
scissors. He was unsuccessful in his efforts to get Titu Cusi to go
to Cuzco. In time there came an Augustinian missionary, Friar Marcos
Garcia, who, six years after the death of Sayri Tupac, entered the
rough country of Uilcapampa, "a land of moderate wealth, large rivers,
and the usual rains," whose "forested mountains," says Father Calancha,
"are magnificent." Friar Marcos had a hard journey. The bridges were
down, the roads had been destroyed, and the passes blocked up. The few
Indians who did occasionally appear in Cuzco from Uilcapampa said the
friar could not get there "unless he should be able to change himself
into a bird." However, with that courage and pertinacity which have
marked so many missionary enterprises, Friar Marcos finally overcame
all difficulties and reached Uiticos.

The missionary chronicler says that Titu Cusi was far from glad
to see him and received him angrily. It worried him to find that a
Spaniard had succeeded in penetrating his retreat. Besides, the Inca
was annoyed to have any one preach against his "idolatries." Titu
Cusi's own story, as written down by Friar Marcos, does not agree
with Calancha's. Anyhow, Friar Marcos built a little church in a place
called Puquiura, where many of the Inca's people were then living. "He
planted crosses in the fields and on the mountains, these being the
best things to frighten off devils." He "suffered many insults at
the hands of the chiefs and principal followers of the Inca. Some
of them did it to please the Devil, others to flatter the Inca, and
many because they disliked his sermons, in which he scolded them for
their vices and abominated among his converts the possession of four
or six wives. So they punished him in the matter of food, and forced
him to send to Cuzco for victuals. The Convent sent him hard-tack,
which was for him a most delicious banquet."

Within a year or so another Augustinian missionary, Friar Diego
Ortiz, left Cuzco alone for Uilcapampa. He suffered much on the
road, but finally reached the retreat of the Inca and entered his
presence in company with Friar Marcos. "Although the Inca was not
too happy to see a new preacher, he was willing to grant him an
entrance because the Inca ... thought Friar Diego would not vex
him nor take the trouble to reprove him. So the Inca gave him a
license. They selected the town of Huarancalla, which was populous
and well located in the midst of a number of other little towns and
villages. There was a distance of two or three days journey from one
Convent to the other. Leaving Friar Marcos in Puquiura, Friar Diego
went to his new establishment and in a short time built a church,
a house for himself, and a hospital,--all poor buildings made in a
short time." He also started a school for children, and became very
popular as he went about healing and teaching. He had an easier time
than Friar Marcos, who, with less tact and no skill as a physician,
was located nearer the center of the Inca cult.

The principal shrine of the Inca is described by Father Calancha as
follows: "Close to Vitcos [or Uiticos] in a village called Chuquipalpa,
is a House of the Sun, and in it a white rock over a spring of water
where the Devil appears as a visible manifestation and was worshipped
by those idolators. This was the principal mochadero of those forested
mountains. The word 'mochadero' [5] is the common name which the
Indians apply to their places of worship. In other words it is the
only place where they practice the sacred ceremony of kissing. The
origin of this, the principal part of their ceremonial, is that very
practice which Job abominates when he solemnly clears himself of all
offences before God and says to Him: 'Lord, all these punishments and
even greater burdens would I have deserved had I done that which the
blind Gentiles do when the sun rises resplendent or the moon shines
clear and they exult in their hearts and extend their hands toward
the sun and throw kisses to it,' an act of very grave iniquity which
is equivalent to denying the true God."

Thus does the ecclesiastical chronicler refer to the practice in
Peru of that particular form of worship of the heavenly bodies
which was also widely spread in the East, in Arabia, and Palestine
and was inveighed against by Mohammed as well as the ancient Hebrew
prophets. Apparently this ceremony "of the most profound resignation
and reverence" was practiced in Chuquipalpa, close to Uiticos, in
the reign of the Inca Titu Cusi.

Calancha goes on to say: "In this white stone of the aforesaid
House of the Sun, which is called Yurac Rumi [meaning, in Quichua,
a white rock], there attends a Devil who is Captain of a legion. He
and his legionaries show great kindness to the Indian idolators, but
great terrors to the Catholics. They abuse with hideous cruelties the
baptized ones who now no longer worship them with kisses, and many
of the Indians have died from the horrible frights these devils have
given them."

One day, when the Inca and his mother and their principal chiefs and
counselors were away from Uiticos on a visit to some of their outlying
estates, Friar Marcos and Friar Diego decided to make a spectacular
attack on this particular Devil, who was at the great "white rock
over a spring of water." The two monks summoned all their converts
to gather at Puquiura, in the church or the neighboring plaza, and
asked each to bring a stick of firewood in order that they might burn
up this Devil who had tormented them. "An innumerable multitude" came
together on the day appointed. The converted Indians were most anxious
to get even with this Devil who had slain their friends and inflicted
wounds on themselves; the doubters were curious to see the result;
the Inca priests were there to see their god defeat the Christians';
while, as may readily be imagined, the rest of the population came
to see the excitement. Starting out from Pucyura they marched to "the
Temple of the Sun, in the village of Chuquipalpa, close to Uiticos."

Arrived at the sacred palisade, the monks raised the standard of
the cross, recited their orisons, surrounded the spring, the white
rock and the Temple of the Sun, and piled high the firewood. Then,
having exorcised the locality, they called the Devil by all the vile
names they could think of, to show their lack of respect, and finally
commanded him never to return to this vicinity. Calling on Christ and
the Virgin, they applied fire to the wood. "The poor Devil then fled
roaring in a fury, and making the mountains to tremble."

It took remarkable courage on the part of the two lone monks thus
to desecrate the chief shrine of the people among whom they were
dwelling. It is almost incredible that in this remote valley,
separated from their friends and far from the protecting hand
of the Spanish viceroy, they should have dared to commit such an
insult to the religion of their hosts. Of course, as soon as the
Inca Titu Cusi heard of it, he was greatly annoyed. His mother was
furious. They returned immediately to Pucyura. The chiefs wished to
"slay the monks and tear them into small pieces," and undoubtedly
would have done so had it not been for the regard in which Friar
Diego was held. His skill in curing disease had so endeared him to
the Indians that even the Inca himself dared not punish him for the
attack on the Temple of the Sun. Friar Marcos, however, who probably
originated the plan, and had done little to gain the good will of the
Indians, did not fare so well. Calancha says he was stoned out of
the province and the Inca threatened to kill him if he ever should
return. Friar Diego, particularly beloved by those Indians who came
from the fever-stricken jungles in the lower valleys, was allowed to
remain, and finally became a trusted friend and adviser of Titu Cusi.

One day a Spaniard named Romero, an adventurous prospector for gold,
was found penetrating the mountain valleys, and succeeded in getting
permission from the Inca to see what minerals were there. He was too
successful. Both gold and silver were found among the hills and he
showed enthusiastic delight at his good fortune. The Inca, fearing
that his reports might encourage others to enter Uilcapampa, put the
unfortunate prospector to death, notwithstanding the protestations
of Friar Diego. Foreigners were not wanted in Uilcapampa.

In the year 1570, ten years after the accession of Titu Cusi
to the Inca throne in Uiticos, a new Spanish viceroy came to
Cuzco. Unfortunately for the Incas, Don Francisco de Toledo, an
indefatigable soldier and administrator, was excessively bigoted,
narrow-minded, cruel, and pitiless. Furthermore, Philip II and his
Council of the Indies had decided that it would be worth while to make
every effort to get the Inca out of Uiticos. For thirty-five years
the Spanish conquerors had occupied Cuzco and the major portion of
Peru without having been able to secure the submission of the Indians
who lived in the province of Uilcapampa. It would be a great feather
in the cap of Toledo if he could induce Titu Cusi to come and live
where he would always be accessible to Spanish authority.

During the ensuing rainy season, after an unusually lively party,
the Inca got soaked, had a chill, and was laid low. In the meantime
the viceroy had picked out a Cuzco soldier, one Tilano de Anaya, who
was well liked by the Inca, to try to persuade Titu Cusi to come to
Cuzco. Tilano was instructed to go by way of Ollantaytambo and the
Chuquichaca bridge. Luck was against him. Titu Cusi's illness was
very serious. Friar Diego, his physician, had prescribed the usual
remedies. Unfortunately, all the monk's skill was unavailing and his
royal patient died. The "remedies" were held by Titu Cusi's mother
and her counselors to be responsible. The poor friar had to suffer
the penalty of death "for having caused the death of the Inca."

The third son of Manco, Tupac Amaru, brought up as a playfellow of
the Virgins of the Sun in the Temple near Uiticos, and now happily
married, was selected to rule the little kingdom. His brows were
decked with the Scarlet Fringe of Sovereignty, but, thanks to the
jealous fear of his powerful illegitimate brother, his training had
not been that of a soldier. He was destined to have a brief, unhappy
existence. When the young Inca's counselors heard that a messenger
was coming from the viceroy, seven warriors were sent to meet him on
the road. Tilano was preparing to spend the night at the Chuquichaca
bridge when he was attacked and killed.

The viceroy heard of the murder of his ambassador at the same time
that he learned of the martyrdom of Friar Diego. A blow had been
struck at the very heart of Spanish domination; if the representatives
of the Vice-Regent of Heaven and the messengers of the viceroy of
Philip II were not inviolable, then who was safe? On Palm Sunday the
energetic Toledo, surrounded by his council, determined to make war
on the unfortunate young Tupac Amaru and give a reward to the soldier
who would effect his capture. The council was of the opinion that
"many Insurrections might be raised in that Empire by this young
Heir." "Moreover it was alledged," says Garcilasso .... "That by the
Imprisonment of the Inca, all that Treasure might be discovered, which
appertained to former kings, together with that Chain of Gold, which
Huayna Capac commanded to be made for himself to wear on the great
and solemn days of their Festival"! Furthermore, the "Chain of Gold
with the remaining Treasure belong'd to his Catholic Majesty by right
of Conquest"! Excuses were not wanting. The Incas must be exterminated.

The expedition was divided into two parts. One company was sent by way
of Limatambo to Curahuasi, to head off the Inca in case he should cross
the Apurimac and try to escape by one of the routes which had formerly
been used by his father, Manco, in his marauding expeditions. The other
company, under General Martin Hurtado and Captain Garcia, marched from
Cuzco by way of Yucay and Ollantaytambo. They were more fortunate
than Captain Villadiego whose force, thirty-five years before, had
been met and destroyed at the pass of Panticalla. That was in the
days of the active Inca Manco. Now there was no force defending this
important pass. They descended the Lucumayo to its junction with the
Urubamba and came to the bridge of Chuquichaca.

The narrow suspension bridge, built of native fibers, sagged deeply
in the middle and swayed so threateningly over the gorge of the
Urubamba that only one man could pass it at a time. The rapid river
was too deep to be forded. There were no canoes. It would have been
a difficult matter to have constructed rafts, for most of the trees
that grow here are of hard wood and do not float. On the other side
of the Urubamba was young Tupac Amaru, surrounded by his councilors,
chiefs, and soldiers. The first hostile forces which in Pizarro's
time had endeavored to fight their way into Uilcapampa had never
been allowed by Manco to get as far as this. His youngest son,
Tupac Amaru, had had no experience in these matters. The chiefs and
nobles had failed to defend the pass; and they now failed to destroy
the Chuquichaca bridge, apparently relying on their ability to take
care of one Spanish soldier at a time and prevent the Spaniards from
crossing the narrow, swaying structure. General Hurtado was not taking
any such chances. He had brought with him one or two light mountain
field pieces, with which the raw troops of the Inca were little
acquainted. The sides of the valley at this point rise steeply from
the river and the reverberations caused by gun fire would be fairly
terrifying to those who had never heard anything like it before. A
few volleys from the guns and the arquebuses, and the Indians fled
pellmell in every direction, leaving the bridge undefended.

Captain Garcia, who had married the daughter of Sayri Tupac, was
sent in pursuit of the Inca. His men found the road "narrow in the
ascent, with forest on the right, and on the left a ravine of great
depth." It was only a footpath, barely wide enough for two men to
pass. Garcia, with customary Spanish bravery, marched at the head
of his company. Suddenly out of the thick forest an Inca chieftain
named Hualpa, endeavoring to protect the flight of Tupac Amaru,
sprang on Garcia, held him so that he could not get at his sword and
endeavored to hurl him over the cliff. The captain's life was saved
by a faithful Indian servant who was following immediately behind him,
carrying his sword. Drawing it from the scabbard "with much dexterity
and animation," the Indian killed Hualpa and saved his master's life.

Garcia fought several battles, took some forts and succeeded in
capturing many prisoners. From them it was learned that the Inca had
"gone inland toward the valley of Simaponte; and that he was flying to
the country of the Mañaries Indians, a warlike tribe and his friends,
where balsas and canoes were posted to save him and enable him to
escape." Nothing daunted by the dangers of the jungle nor the rapids of
the river, Garcia finally managed to construct five rafts, on which he
put some of his soldiers. Accompanying them himself, he descended the
rapids, escaping death many times by swimming, and finally arrived
at a place called Momori, only to find that the Inca, learning of
their approach, had gone farther into the woods. Garcia followed
hard after, although he and his men were by this time barefooted and
suffering from want of food. They finally captured the Inca. Garcilasso
says that Tupac Amaru, "considering that he had not People to make
resistance, and that he was not conscious to himself of any Crime,
or disturbance he had done or raised, suffered himself to be taken;
choosing rather to entrust himself in the hands of the Spaniards,
than to perish in those Mountains with Famine, or be drowned in those
great Rivers .... The Spaniards in this manner seizing on the Inca,
and on all the Indian Men and Women, who were in Company with him,
amongst which was his Wife, two Sons, and a Daughter, returned
with them in Triumph to Cuzco; to which place the Vice-King went,
so soon as he was informed of the imprisonment of the poor Prince." A
mock trial was held. The captured chiefs were tortured to death with
fiendish brutality. Tupac Amaru's wife was mangled before his eyes. His
own head was cut off and placed on a pole in the Cuzco Plaza. His
little boys did not long survive. So perished the last of the Incas,
descendants of the wisest Indian rulers America has ever seen.

Brief Summary of the Last Four Incas

1534. The Inca Manco ascends the throne of his fathers.

1536. Manco flees from Cuzco to Uiticos and Uilcapampa.

1542. Promulgation of the "New Laws."

1545. Murder of Manco and accession of his son Sayri Tupac.
1555. Sayri Tupac goes to Cuzco and Yucay.

1560. Death of Sayri Tupac. His half brother Titu Cusi becomes Inca.

1566. Friar Marcos reaches Uiticos. Settles in Puquiura.

1566. Friar Diego joins him.

1568-9 (?). They burn the House of the Sun at Yurac Rumi in

1571. Titu Cusi dies. Friar Diego suffers martyrdom. Tupac Amaru
becomes Inca.

1572. Expedition of General Martin Hurtado and Captain Garcia de
Loyola. Execution of Tupac Amaru.


Searching for the Last Inca Capital

The events described in the preceding chapter happened, for the most
part, in Uiticos [6] and Uilcapampa, northwest of Ollantaytambo, about
one hundred miles away from the Cuzco palace of the Spanish viceroy,
in what Prescott calls "the remote fastnesses of the Andes." One looks
in vain for Uiticos on modern maps of Peru, although several of the
older maps give it. In 1625 "Viticos" is marked on de Laet's map of
Peru as a mountainous province northeast of Lima and three hundred
and fifty miles northwest of Vilcabamba! This error was copied by
some later cartographers, including Mercator, until about 1740,
when "Viticos" disappeared from all maps of Peru. The map makers
had learned that there was no such place in that vicinity. Its real
location was lost about three hundred years ago. A map published at
Nuremberg in 1599 gives "Pincos" in the "Andes" mountains, a small
range west of "Cusco." This does not seem to have been adopted by
other cartographers; although a Palls map of 1739 gives "Picos" in
about the same place. Nearly all the cartographers of the eighteenth
century who give "Viticos" supposed it to be the name of a tribe, e.g.,
"Los Viticos" or "Les Viticos."


Part of the Nuremberg Map of 1599, Showing Pincos and the Andes

The largest official map of Peru, the work of that remarkable explorer,
Raimondi, who spent his life crossing and recrossing Peru, does not
contain the word Uiticos nor any of its numerous spellings, Viticos,
Vitcos, Pitcos, or Biticos. Incidentally, it may seem strange that
Uiticos could ever be written "Biticos." The Quichua language has
no sound of V. The early Spanish writers, however, wrote the capital
letter U exactly like a capital V. In official documents and letters
Uiticos became Viticos. The official readers, who had never heard
the word pronounced, naturally used the V sound instead of the U
sound. Both V and P easily become B. So Uiticos became Biticos and
Uilcapampa became Vilcabamba.

Raimondi's marvelous energy led him to penetrate to more out-of-the-way
Peruvian villages than any one had ever done before or is likely to do
again. He stopped at nothing in the way of natural obstacles. In 1865
he went deep into the heart of Uilcapampa; yet found no Uiticos. He
believed that the ruins of Choqquequirau represented the residence of
the last Incas. This view had been held by the French explorer, Count
de Sartiges, in 1834, who believed that Choqquequirau was abandoned
when Sayri Tupac, Manco's oldest son, went to live in Yucay. Raimondi's
view was also held by the leading Peruvian geographers, including
Paz Soldan in 1877, and by Prefect Nuñez and his friends in 1909, at
the time of my visit to Choqquequirau. [7] The only dissenter was the
learned Peruvian historian, Don Carlos Romero, who insisted that the
last Inca capital must be found elsewhere. He urged the importance
of searching for Uiticos in the valleys of the rivers now called
Vilcabamba and Urubamba. It was to be the work of the Yale Peruvian
Expedition of 1911 to collect the geographical evidence which would
meet the requirements of the chronicles and establish the whereabouts
of the long-lost Inca capital.

That there were undescribed and unidentified ruins to be found in the
Urubamba Valley was known to a few people in Cuzco, mostly wealthy
planters who had large estates in the province of Convencion. One
told us that he went to Santa Ana every year and was acquainted with
a muleteer who had told him of some interesting ruins near the San
Miguel bridge. Knowing the propensity of his countrymen to exaggerate,
however, he placed little confidence in the story and, shrugging his
shoulders, had crossed the bridge a score of times without taking
the trouble to look into the matter. Another, Señor Pancorbo, whose
plantation was in the Vilcabamba Valley, said that he had heard vague
rumors of ruins in the valley above his plantation, particularly
near Pucyura. If his story should prove to be correct, then it was
likely that this might be the very Puquiura where Friar Marcos had
established the first church in the "province of Uilcapampa." But
that was "near" Uiticos and near a village called Chuquipalpa, where
should be found the ruins of a Temple of the Sun, and in these ruins
a "white rock over a spring of water." Yet neither these friendly
planters nor the friends among whom they inquired had ever heard of
Uiticos or a place called Chuquipalpa, or of such an interesting rock;
nor had they themselves seen the ruins of which they had heard.

One of Señor Lomellini's friends, a talkative old fellow who
had spent a large part of his life in prospecting for mines in
the department of Cuzco, said that he had seen ruins "finer than
Choqquequirau" at a place called Huayna Picchu; but he had never been
to Choqquequirau. Those who knew him best shrugged their shoulders
and did not seem to place much confidence in his word. Too often he
had been over-enthusiastic about mines which did not "pan out." Yet
his report resembled that of Charles Wiener, a French explorer,
who, about 1875, in the course of his wanderings in the Andes,
visited Ollantaytambo. While there he was told that there were fine
ruins down the Urubamba Valley at a place called "Huaina-Picchu or
Matcho-Picchu." He decided to go down the valley and look for these
ruins. According to his text he crossed the Pass of Panticalla,
descended the Lucumayo River to the bridge of Choqquechacca, and
visited the lower Urubamba, returning by the same route. He published
a detailed map of the valley. To one of its peaks he gives the name
"Huaynapicchu, ele. 1815 m." and to another "Matchopicchu, ele. 1720
m." His interest in Inca ruins was very keen. He devotes pages to
Ollantaytambo. He failed to reach Machu Picchu or to find any ruins
of importance in the Urubamba or Vilcabamba valleys. Could we hope
to be any more successful? Would the rumors that had reached us "pan
out" as badly as those to which Wiener had listened so eagerly? Since
his day, to be sure, the Peruvian Government had actually finished
a road which led past Machu Picchu. On the other hand, a Harvard
Anthropological Expedition, under the leadership of Dr. William
C. Farrabee, had recently been over this road without reporting
any ruins of importance. They were looking for savages and not
ruins. Nevertheless, if Machu Picchu was "finer than Choqquequirau"
why had no one pointed it out to them?


Peruvian Expedition of 1915

To most of our friends in Cuzco the idea that there could be anything
finer than Choqquequirau seemed, absurd. They regarded that "cradle
of gold" as "the most remarkable archeological discovery of recent
times." They assured us there was nothing half so good. They even
assumed that we were secretly planning to return thither to dig
for buried treasure! Denials were of no avail. To a people whose
ancestors made fortunes out of lucky "strikes," and who themselves
have been brought up on stories of enormous wealth still remaining
to be discovered by some fortunate excavator, the question of
tesoro--treasure, wealth, riches--is an ever-present source of
conversation. Even the prefect of Cuzco was quite unable to conceive
of my doing anything for the love of discovery. He was convinced
that I should find great riches at Choqquequirau--and that I was
in receipt of a very large salary! He refused to believe that the
members of the Expedition received no more than their expenses. He
told me confidentially that Professor Foote would sell his collection
of insects for at least $10,000! Peruvians have not been accustomed to
see any one do scientific work except as he was paid by the government
or employed by a railroad or mining company. We have frequently found
our work misunderstood and regarded with suspicion, even by the Cuzco
Historical Society.

The valley of the Urubamba, or Uilcamayu, as it used to be called, may
be reached from Cuzco in several ways. The usual route for those going
to Yucay is northwest from the city, over the great Andean highway,
past the slopes of Mt. Sencca. At Ttica-Ttica (12,000 ft.) the road
crosses the lowest pass at the western end of the Cuzco Basin. At the
last point from which one can see the city of Cuzco, all true Indians,
whether on their way out of the valley or into it, pause, turn toward
the east, facing the city, remove their hats and mutter a prayer. I
believe that the words they use now are those of the "Ave Maria,"
or some other familiar orison of the Catholic Church. Nevertheless,
the custom undoubtedly goes far back of the advent of the first
Spanish missionaries. It is probably a relic of the ancient habit
of worshiping the rising sun. During the centuries immediately
preceding the conquest, the city of Cuzco was the residence of the Inca
himself, that divine individual who was at once the head of Church and
State. Nothing would have been more natural than for persons coming in
sight of his residence to perform an act of veneration. This in turn
might have led those leaving the city to fall into the same habit at
the same point in the road. I have watched hundreds of travelers pass
this point. None of those whose European costume proclaimed a white or
mixed ancestry stopped to pray or make obeisance. On the other hand,
all those, without exception, who were clothed in a native costume,
which betokened that they considered themselves to be Indians rather
than whites, paused for a moment, gazing at the ancient city, removed
their hats, and said a short prayer.

Leaving Ttica-Ttica, we went northward for several leagues, passed
the town of Chincheros, with its old Inca walls, and came at length
to the edge of the wonderful valley of Yucay. In its bottom are great
level terraces rescued from the Urubamba River by the untiring energy
of the ancient folk. On both sides of the valley the steep slopes
bear many remains of narrow terraces, some of which are still in
use. Above them are "temporales," fields of grain, resting like a
patch-work quilt on slopes so steep it seems incredible they could
be cultivated. Still higher up, their heads above the clouds, are
the jagged snow-capped peaks. The whole offers a marvelous picture,
rich in contrast, majestic in proportion. In Yucay once dwelt the Inca
Manco's oldest son, Sayri Tupac, after he had accepted the viceroy's
invitation to come under Spanish protection. Here he lived three years
and here, in 1560, he died an untimely death under circumstances
which led his brothers, Titu Cusi and Tupac Amaru, to think that
they would be safer in Uiticos. We spent the night in Urubamba,
the modern capital of the province, much favored by Peruvians of
to-day because of its abundant water supply, delightful climate,
and rich fruits. Cuzco, 11,000 feet, is too high to have charming
surroundings, but two thousand feet lower, in the Urubamba Valley,
there is everything to please the eye and delight the horticulturist.

Speaking of horticulturists reminds me of their enemies. Uru is the
Quichua word for caterpillars or grubs, pampa means flat land. Urubamba
is "flat-land-where-there-are-grubs-or-caterpillars." Had it been named
by people who came up from a warm region where insects abound, it would
hardly have been so denominated. Only people not accustomed to land
where caterpillars and grubs flourished would have been struck by such
a circumstance. Consequently, the valley was probably named by plateau
dwellers who were working their way down into a warm region where
butterflies and moths are more common. Notwithstanding its celebrated
caterpillars, Urubamba's gardens of to-day are full of roses, lilies,
and other brilliant flowers. There are orchards of peaches, pears,
and apples; there are fields where luscious strawberries are raised
for the Cuzco market. Apparently, the grubs do not get everything.

The next day down the valley brought us to romantic Ollantaytambo,
described in glowing terms by Castelnau, Marcou, Wiener, and Squier
many years ago. It has lost none of its charm, even though Marcou's
drawings are imaginary and Squier's are exaggerated. Here, as at
Urubamba, there are flower gardens and highly cultivated green
fields. The brooks are shaded by willows and poplars. Above them
are magnificent precipices crowned by snow-capped peaks. The village
itself was once the capital of an ancient principality whose history
is shrouded in mystery. There are ruins of curious gabled buildings,
storehouses, "prisons," or "monasteries," perched here and there
on well-nigh inaccessible crags above the village. Below are broad
terraces of unbelievable extent where abundant crops are still
harvested; terraces which will stand for ages to come as monuments to
the energy and skill of a bygone race. The "fortress" is on a little
hill, surrounded by steep cliffs, high walls, and hanging gardens so
as to be difficult of access. Centuries ago, when the tribe which
cultivated the rich fields in this valley lived in fear and terror
of their savage neighbors, this hill offered a place of refuge to
which they could retire. It may have been fortified at that time. As
centuries passed in which the land came under the control of the Incas,
whose chief interest was the peaceful promotion of agriculture, it
is likely that this fortress became a royal garden. The six great
ashlars of reddish granite weighing fifteen or twenty tons each, and
placed in line on the summit of the hill, were brought from a quarry
several miles away with an immense amount of labor and pains. They
were probably intended to be a record of the magnificence of an able
ruler. Not only could he command the services of a sufficient number
of men to extract these rocks from the quarry and carry them up an
inclined plane from the bottom of the valley to the summit of the hill;
he had to supply the men with food. The building of such a monument
meant taking five hundred Indians away from their ordinary occupations
as agriculturists. He must have been a very good administrator. To his
people the magnificent megaliths were doubtless a source of pride. To
his enemies they were a symbol of his power and might.


Mt. Veronica and Salapunco, the Gateway to Uilcapampa

A league below Ollantaytambo the road forks. The right branch
ascends a steep valley and crosses the pass of Panticalla near
snow-covered Mt. Veronica. Near the pass are two groups of ruins. One
of them, extravagantly referred to by Wiener as a "granite palace,
whose appearance [appareil] resembles the more beautiful parts
of Ollantaytambo," was only a storehouse. The other was probably a
tampu, or inn, for the benefit of official travelers. All travelers in
Inca times, even the bearers of burdens, were acting under official
orders. Commercial business was unknown. The rights of personal
property were not understood. No one had anything to sell; no one
had any money to buy it with. On the other hand, the Incas had an
elaborate system of tax collecting. Two thirds of the produce raised
by their subjects was claimed by the civil and religious rulers. It
was a reasonable provision of the benevolent despotism of the Incas
that inhospitable regions like the Panticalla Pass near Mt. Veronica
should be provided with suitable rest houses and storehouses. Polo de
Ondegardo, an able and accomplished statesman, who was in office in
Cuzco in 1560, says that the food of the chasquis, Inca post runners,
was provided from official storehouses; "those who worked for the
Inca's service, or for religion, never ate at their own expense." In
Manco's day these buildings at Havaspampa probably sheltered the
outpost which defeated Captain Villadiego.

Before the completion of the river road, about 1895, travelers from
Cuzco to the lower Urubamba had a choice of two routes, one by way
of the pass of Panticalla, followed by Captain Garcia in 1571, by
General Miller in 1835, Castelnau in 1842, and Wiener in 1875; and
one by way of the pass between Mts. Salcantay and Soray, along the
Salcantay River to Huadquiña, followed by the Count de Sartiges in
1834 and Raimondi in 1865. Both of these routes avoid the highlands
between Mt. Salcantay and Mt. Veronica and the lowlands between the
villages of Piri and Huadquiña. This region was in 1911 undescribed
in the geographical literature of southern Peru. We decided not to
use either pass, but to go straight down the Urubamba river road. It
led us into a fascinating country.

Two leagues beyond Piri, at Salapunco, the road skirts the base of
precipitous cliffs, the beginnings of a wonderful mass of granite
mountains which have made Uilcapampa more difficult of access than the
surrounding highlands which are composed of schists, conglomerates, and
limestone. Salapunco is the natural gateway to the ancient province,
but it was closed for centuries by the combined efforts of nature and
man. The Urubamba River, in cutting its way through the granite range,
forms rapids too dangerous to be passable and precipices which can
be scaled only with great effort and considerable peril. At one
time a footpath probably ran near the river, where the Indians,
by crawling along the face of the cliff and sometimes swinging from
one ledge to another on hanging vines, were able to make their way
to any of the alluvial terraces down the valley. Another path may
have gone over the cliffs above the fortress, where we noticed, in
various inaccessible places, the remains of walls built on narrow
ledges. They were too narrow and too irregular to have been intended
to support agricultural terraces. They may have been built to make the
cliff more precipitous. They probably represent the foundations of an
old trail. To defend these ancient paths we found that prehistoric
man had built, at the foot of the precipices, close to the river,
a small but powerful fortress whose ruins now pass by the name of
Salapunco; sala = ruins; punco = gateway. Fashioned after famous
Sacsahuaman and resembling it in the irregular character of the large
ashlars and also by reason of the salients and reëntrant angles which
enabled its defenders to prevent the walls being successfully scaled,
it presents an interesting problem.

Commanding as it does the entrance to the valley of Torontoy,
Salapunco may have been built by some ancient chief to enable him
to levy tribute on all who passed. My first impression was that
the fortress was placed here, at the end of the temperate zone,
to defend the valleys of Urubamba and Ollantaytambo against savage
enemies coming up from the forests of the Amazon. On the other hand,
it is possible that Salapunco was built by the tribes occupying the
fastnesses of Uilcapampa as an outpost to defend them against enemies
coming down the valley from the direction of Ollantaytambo. They could
easily have held it against a considerable force, for it is powerfully
built and constructed with skill. Supplies from the plantations of
Torontoy, lower down the river, might have reached it along the path
which antedated the present government road. Salapunco may have been
occupied by the troops of the Inca Manco when he established himself
in Uiticos and ruled over Uilcapampa. He could hardly, however,
have built a megalithic work of this kind. It is more likely that
he would have destroyed the narrow trails than have attempted to
hold the fort against the soldiers of Pizarro. Furthermore, its
style and character seem to date it with the well-known megalithic
structures of Cuzco and Ollantaytambo. This makes it seem all the
more extraordinary that Salapunco could ever have been built as a
defense against Ollantaytambo, unless it was built by folk who once
occupied Cuzco and who later found a retreat in the canyons below here.


Grosvenor Glacier and Mt. Salcantay

When we first visited Salapunco no megalithic remains had been
reported as far down the valley as this. It never occurred to us that,
in hunting for the remains of such comparatively recent structures as
the Inca Manco had the force and time to build, we were to discover
remains of a far more remote past. Yet we were soon to find ruins
enough to explain why such a fortress as Salapunco might possibly
have been built so as to defend Uilcapampa against Ollantaytambo and
Cuzco and not those well-known Inca cities against the savages of
the Amazon jungles.

Passing Salapunco, we skirted granite cliffs and precipices and entered
a most interesting region, where we were surprised and charmed by the
extent of the ancient terraces, their length and height, the presence
of many Inca ruins, the beauty of the deep, narrow valleys, and the
grandeur of the snow-clad mountains which towered above them. Across
the river, near Qquente, on top of a series of terraces, we saw the
extensive ruins of Patallacta (pata = height or terrace; llacta =
town or city), an Inca town of great importance. It was not known to
Raimondi or Paz Soldan, but is indicated on Wiener's map, although he
does not appear to have visited it. We have been unable to find any
reference to it in the chronicles. We spent several months here in
1915 excavating and determining the character of the ruins. In another
volume I hope to tell more of the antiquities of this region. At
present it must suffice to remark that our explorations near Patallacta
disclosed no "white rock over a spring of water." None of the place
names in this vicinity fit in with the accounts of Uiticos. Their
identity remains a puzzle, although the symmetry of the buildings,
their architectural idiosyncrasies such as niches, stone roof-pegs,
bar-holds, and eye-bonders, indicate an Inca origin. At what date these
towns and villages flourished, who built them, why they were deserted,
we do not yet know; and the Indians who live hereabouts are ignorant,
or silent, as to their history.

At Torontoy, the end of the cultivated temperate valley, we found
another group of interesting ruins, possibly once the residence of
an Inca chief. In a cave near by we secured some mummies. The ancient
wrappings had been consumed by the natives in an effort to smoke out
the vampire bats that lived in the cave. On the opposite side of the
river are extensive terraces and above them, on a hilltop, other
ruins first visited by Messrs. Tucker and Hendriksen in 1911. One
of their Indian bearers, attempting to ford the rapids here with a
large surveying instrument, was carried off his feet, swept away by
the strong current, and drowned before help could reach him.

Near Torontoy is a densely wooded valley called the Pampa Ccahua. In
1915 rumors of Andean or "spectacled" bears having been seen here and
of damage having been done by them to some of the higher crops, led
us to go and investigate. We found no bears, but at an elevation of
12,000 feet were some very old trees, heavily covered with flowering
moss not hitherto known to science. Above them I was so fortunate as
to find a wild potato plant, the source from which the early Peruvians
first developed many varieties of what we incorrectly call the Irish
potato. The tubers were as large as peas.

Mr. Heller found here a strange little cousin of the kangaroo, a near
relative of the coenolestes. It turned out to be new to science. To
find a new genus of mammalian quadrupeds was an event which delighted
Mr. Heller far more than shooting a dozen bears. [8]

Torontoy is at the beginning of the Grand Canyon of the Urubamba,
and such a canyon! The river "road" runs recklessly up and down
rock stairways, blasts its way beneath overhanging precipices, spans
chasms on frail bridges propped on rustic brackets against granite
cliffs. Under dense forests, wherever the encroaching precipices
permitted it, the land between them and the river was once terraced
and cultivated. We found ourselves unexpectedly in a veritable
wonderland. Emotions came thick and fast. We marveled at the exquisite
pains with which the ancient folk had rescued incredibly narrow strips
of arable land from the tumbling rapids. How could they ever have
managed to build a retaining wall of heavy stones along the very edge
of the dangerous river, which it is death to attempt to cross! On one
sightly bend near a foaming waterfall some Inca chief built a temple,
whose walls tantalize the traveler. He must pass by within pistol shot
of the interesting ruins, unable to ford the intervening rapids. High
up on the side of the canyon, five thousand feet above this temple,
are the ruins of Corihuayrachina (kori = "gold"; huayara = "wind";
huayrachina = "a threshing-floor where winnowing takes place." Possibly
this was an ancient gold mine of the Incas. Half a mile above us on
another steep slope, some modern pioneer had recently cleared the
jungle from a fine series of ancient artificial terraces.

On the afternoon of July 23d we reached a hut called "La Maquina,"
where travelers frequently stop for the night. The name comes from the
presence here of some large iron wheels, parts of a "machine" destined
never to overcome the difficulties of being transported all the way to
a sugar estate in the lower valley, and years ago left here to rust in
the jungle. There was little fodder, and there was no good place for
us to pitch our camp, so we pushed on over the very difficult road,
which had been carved out of the face of a great granite cliff. Part
of the cliff had slid off into the river and the breach thus made in
the road had been repaired by means of a frail-looking rustic bridge
built on a bracket composed of rough logs, branches, and reeds,
tied together and surmounted by a few inches of earth and pebbles
to make it seem sufficiently safe to the cautious cargo mules who
picked their way gingerly across it. No wonder "the machine" rested
where it did and gave its name to that part of the valley.

Dusk falls early in this deep canyon, the sides of which are
considerably over a mile in height. It was almost dark when we passed
a little sandy plain two or three acres in extent, which in this land
of steep mountains is called a pampa. Were the dwellers on the pampas
of Argentina--where a railroad can go for 250 miles in a straight
line, except for the curvature of the earth--to see this little bit
of flood-plain called Mandor Pampa, they would think some one had been
joking or else grossly misusing a word which means to them illimitable
space with not a hill in sight. However, to the ancient dwellers in
this valley, where level land was so scarce that it was worth while
to build high stone-faced terraces so as to enable two rows of corn
to grow where none grew before, any little natural breathing space
in the bottom of the canyon is called a pampa.


The Road Between Maquina and Mandor Pampa Near Machu Picchu

We passed an ill-kept, grass-thatched hut, turned off the road through
a tiny clearing, and made our camp at the edge of the river Urubamba
on a sandy beach. Opposite us, beyond the huge granite boulders
which interfered with the progress of the surging stream, was a steep
mountain clothed with thick jungle. It was an ideal spot for a camp,
near the road and yet secluded. Our actions, however, aroused the
suspicions of the owner of the hut, Melchor Arteaga, who leases the
lands of Mandor Pampa. He was anxious to know why we did not stay at
his hut like respectable travelers. Our gendarme, Sergeant Carrasco,
reassured him. They had quite a long conversation. When Arteaga learned
that we were interested in the architectural remains of the Incas, he
said there were some very good ruins in this vicinity--in fact, some
excellent ones on top of the opposite mountain, called Huayna Picchu,
and also on a ridge called Machu Picchu. These were the very places
Charles Wiener heard of at Ollantaytambo in 1875 and had been unable to
reach. The story of my experiences on the following day will be found
in a later chapter. Suffice it to say at this point that the ruins
of Huayna Picchu turned out to be of very little importance, while
those of Machu Picchu, familiar to readers of the "National Geographic
Magazine," are as interesting as any ever found in the Andes.

When I first saw the remarkable citadel of Machu Picchu perched on
a narrow ridge two thousand feet above the river, I wondered if it
could be the place to which that old soldier, Baltasar de Ocampo,
a member of Captain Garcia's expedition, was referring when he said:
"The Inca Tupac Amaru was there in the fortress of Pitcos [Uiticos],
which is on a very high mountain, whence the view commanded a great
part of the province of Uilcapampa. Here there was an extensive level
space, with very sumptuous and majestic buildings, erected with great
skill and art, all the lintels of the doors, the principal as well
as the ordinary ones, being of marble, elaborately carved." Could
it be that "Picchu" was the modern variant of "Pitcos"? To be sure,
the white granite of which the temples and palaces of Machu Picchu
are constructed might easily pass for marble. The difficulty about
fitting Ocampo's description to Machu Picchu, however, was that there
was no difference between the lintels of the doors and the walls
themselves. Furthermore, there is no "white rock over a spring of
water" which Calancha says was "near Uiticos." There is no Pucyura
in this neighborhood. In fact, the canyon of the Urubamba does not
satisfy the geographical requirements of Uiticos. Although containing
ruins of surpassing interest, Machu Picchu did not represent that
last Inca capital for which we were searching. We had not yet found
Manco's palace.


The Search Continued

Machu Picchu is on the border-line between the temperate zone and the
tropics. Camping near the bridge of San Miguel, below the ruins, both
Mr. Heller and Mr. Cook found interesting evidences of this fact in
the flora and fauna. From the point of view of historical geography,
Mr. Cook's most important discovery was the presence here of huilca,
a tree which does not grow in cold climates. The Quichua dictionaries
tell us huilca is a "medicine, a purgative." An infusion made from
the seeds of the tree is used as an enema. I am indebted to Mr. Cook
for calling my attention to two articles by Mr. W. E. Safford in
which it is also shown that from seeds of the huilca a powder is
prepared, sometimes called cohoba. This powder, says Mr. Safford, is a
narcotic snuff "inhaled through the nostrils by means of a bifurcated
tube." "All writers unite in declaring that it induced a kind of
intoxication or hypnotic state, accompanied by visions which were
regarded by the natives as supernatural. While under its influence
the necromancers, or priests, were supposed to hold communication
with unseen powers, and their incoherent mutterings were regarded as
prophecies or revelations of hidden things. In treating the sick the
physicians made use of it to discover the cause of the malady or the
person or spirit by whom the patient was bewitched." Mr. Safford quotes
Las Casas as saying: "It was an interesting spectacle to witness how
they took it and what they spake. The chief began the ceremony and
while he was engaged all remained silent .... When he had snuffed up
the powder through his nostrils, he remained silent for a while with
his head inclined to one side and his arms placed on his knees. Then
he raised his face heavenward, uttering certain words which must
have been his prayer to the true God, or to him whom he held as God;
after which all responded, almost as we do when we say amen; and this
they did with a loud voice or sound. Then they gave thanks and said
to him certain complimentary things, entreating his benevolence and
begging him to reveal to them what he had seen. He described to them
his vision, saying that the Cemi [spirits] had spoken to him and had
predicted good times or the contrary, or that children were to be born,
or to die, or that there was to be some dispute with their neighbors,
and other things which might come to his imagination, all disturbed
with that intoxication." [9]

Clearly, from the point of view of priests and soothsayers, the place
where huilca was first found and used in their incantations would be
important. It is not strange to find therefore that the Inca name of
this river was Uilca-mayu: the "huilca river." The pampa on this river
where the trees grew would likely receive the name Uilca pampa. If it
became an important city, then the surrounding region might be named
Uilcapampa after it. This seems to me to be the most probable origin
of the name of the province. Anyhow it is worth noting the fact that
denizens of Cuzco and Ollantaytambo, coming down the river in search
of this highly prized narcotic, must have found the first trees not
far from Machu Picchu.

Leaving the ruins of Machu Picchu for later investigation, we now
pushed on down the Urubamba Valley, crossed the bridge of San Miguel,
passed the house of Señor Lizarraga, first of modern Peruvians to
write his name on the granite walls of Machu Picchu, and came to the
sugar-cane fields of Huadquiña. We had now left the temperate zone
and entered the tropics.

At Huadquiña we were so fortunate as to find that the proprietress of
the plantation, Señora Carmen Vargas, and her children, were spending
the season here. During the rainy winter months they live in Cuzco,
but when summer brings fine weather they come to Huadquiña to enjoy
the free-and-easy life of the country. They made us welcome, not
only with that hospitality to passing travelers which is common
to sugar estates all over the world, but gave us real assistance
in our explorations. Señora Carmen's estate covers more than
two hundred square miles. Huadquiña is a splendid example of the
ancient patriarchal system. The Indians who come from other parts of
Peru to work on the plantation enjoy perquisites and wages unknown
elsewhere. Those whose home is on the estate regard Señora Carmen with
an affectionate reverence which she well deserves. All are welcome to
bring her their troubles. The system goes back to the days when the
spiritual, moral, and material welfare of the Indians was entrusted
in encomienda to the lords of the repartimiento or allotted territory.

Huadquiña once belonged to the Jesuits. They planted the first sugar
cane and established the mill. After their expulsion from the Spanish
colonies at the end of the eighteenth century, Huadquiña was bought
by a Peruvian. It was first described in geographical literature by
the Count de Sartiges, who stayed here for several weeks in 1834 when
on his way to Choqquequirau. He says that the owner of Huadquiña "is
perhaps the only landed proprietor in the entire world who possesses
on his estates all the products of the four parts of the globe. In
the different regions of his domain he has wool, hides, horsehair,
potatoes, wheat, corn, sugar, coffee, chocolate, coca, many mines of
silver-bearing lead, and placers of gold." Truly a royal principality.



Incidentally it is interesting to note that although Sartiges was
an enthusiastic explorer, eager to visit undescribed Inca ruins,
he makes no mention whatever of Machu Picchu. Yet from Huadquiña
one can reach Machu Picchu on foot in half a day without crossing
the Urubamba River. Apparently the ruins were unknown to his hosts
in 1834. They were equally unknown to our kind hosts in 1911. They
scarcely believed the story I told them of the beauty and extent of
the Inca edifices. [10] When my photographs were developed, however,
and they saw with their own eyes the marvelous stonework of the
principal temples, Señora Carmen and her family were struck dumb
with wonder and astonishment. They could not understand how it was
possible that they should have passed so close to Machu Picchu every
year of their lives since the river road was opened without knowing
what was there. They had seen a single little building on the crest
of the ridge, but supposed that it was an isolated tower of no great
interest or importance. Their neighbor, Lizarraga, near the bridge
of San Miguel, had reported the presence of the ruins which he first
visited in 1904, but, like our friends in Cuzco, they had paid little
attention to his stories. We were soon to have a demonstration of
the causes of such skepticism.

Our new friends read with interest my copy of those paragraphs of
Calaucha's "Chronicle" which referred to the location of the last Inca
capital. Learning that we were anxious to discover Uiticos, a place of
which they had never heard, they ordered the most intelligent tenants
on the estate to come in and be questioned. The best informed of all
was a sturdy mestizo, a trusted foreman, who said that in a little
valley called Ccllumayu, a few hours' journey down the Urubamba, there
were "important ruins" which had been seen by some of Señora Carmen's
Indians. Even more interesting and thrilling was his statement that on
a ridge up the Salcantay Valley was a place called Yurak Rumi (yurak =
"white"; rumi = "stone") where some very interesting ruins had been
found by his workmen when cutting trees for firewood. We all became
excited over this, for among the paragraphs which I had copied from
Calancha's "Chronicle" was the statement that "close to Uiticos" is the
"white stone of the aforesaid house of the Sun which is called Yurak
Rumi." Our hosts assured us that this must be the place, since no
one hereabouts had ever heard of any other Yurak Rumi. The foreman,
on being closely questioned, said that he had seen the ruins once or
twice, that he had also been up the Urubamba Valley and seen the great
ruins at Ollantaytambo, and that those which he had seen at Yurak Rumi
were "as good as those at Ollantaytambo." Here was a definite statement
made by an eyewitness. Apparently we were about to see that interesting
rock where the last Incas worshiped. However, the foreman said that
the trail thither was at present impassable, although a small gang of
Indians could open it in less than a week. Our hosts, excited by the
pictures we had shown them of Machu Picchu, and now believing that
even finer ruins might be found on their own property, immediately
gave orders to have the path to Yurak Rumi cleared for our benefit.

While this was being done, Señora Carmen's son, the manager of the
plantation, offered to accompany us himself to Ccllumayu, where other
"important ruins" had been found, which could be reached in a few
hours without cutting any new trails. Acting on his assurance that we
should not need tent or cots, we left our camping outfit behind and
followed him to a small valley on the south side of the Urubamba. We
found Ccllumayu to consist of two huts in a small clearing. Densely
wooded slopes rose on all sides. The manager requested two of
the Indian tenants to act as guides. With them, we plunged into
the thick jungle and spent a long and fatiguing day searching in
vain for ruins. That night the manager returned to Huadquiña, but
Professor Foote and I preferred to remain in Ccllumayu and prosecute
a more vigorous search on the next day. We shared a little thatched
hut with our Indian hosts and a score of fat cuys (guinea pigs), the
chief source of the Ccllumayu meat supply. The hut was built of rough
wattles which admitted plenty of fresh air and gave us comfortable
ventilation. Primitive little sleeping-platforms, also of wattles,
constructed for the needs of short, stocky Indians, kept us from
being overrun by inquisitive cuys, but could hardly be called as
comfortable as our own folding cots which we had left at Huadquiña.

The next day our guides were able to point out in the woods a few
piles of stones, the foundations of oval or circular huts which
probably were built by some primitive savage tribe in prehistoric
times. Nothing further could be found here of ruins, "important"
or otherwise, although we spent three days at Ccllumayu. Such was
our first disillusionment.

On our return to Huadquiña, we learned that the trail to Yurak Rumi
would be ready "in a day or two." In the meantime our hosts became much
interested in Professor Foote's collection of insects. They brought
an unnamed scorpion and informed us that an orange orchard surrounded
by high walls in a secluded place back of the house was "a great
place for spiders." We found that their statement was not exaggerated
and immediately engaged in an enthusiastic spider hunt. When these
Huadquiña spiders were studied at the Harvard Museum of Comparative
Zoölogy, Dr. Chamberlain found among them the representatives of four
new genera and nineteen species hitherto unknown to science. As a
reward of merit, he gave Professor Foote's name to the scorpion!


Ruins of Yurak Rumi near Huadquiña. Probably an Inca Storehouse, well
ventilated and well drained. Drawn by A. H. Bumstead from measurements
and photographs by Hiram Bingham and H. W. Foote.

Finally the trail to Yurak Rumi was reported finished. It was with
feelings of keen anticipation that I started out with the foreman
to see those ruins which he had just revisited and now declared were
"better than those of Ollantaytambo." It was to be presumed that in the
pride of discovery he might have exaggerated their importance. Still it
never entered my head what I was actually to find. After several hours
spent in clearing away the dense forest growth which surrounded the
walls I learned that this Yurak Rumi consisted of the ruins of a single
little rectangular Inca storehouse. No effort had been made at beauty
of construction. The walls were of rough, unfashioned stones laid in
clay. The building was without a doorway, although it had several small
windows and a series of ventilating shafts under the house. The lintels
of the windows and of the small apertures leading into the subterranean
shafts were of stone. There were no windows on the sunny north side
or on the ends, but there were four on the south side through which
it would have been possible to secure access to the stores of maize,
potatoes, or other provisions placed here for safe-keeping. It
will be recalled that the Incas maintained an extensive system of
public storehouses, not only in the centers of population, but also
at strategic points on the principal trails. Yurak Rumi is on top of
the ridge between the Salcantay and Huadquiña valleys, probably on an
ancient road which crossed the province of Uilcapampa. As such it was
interesting; but to compare it with Ollantaytambo, as the foreman had
done, was to liken a cottage to a palace or a mouse to an elephant. It
seems incredible that anybody having actually seen both places could
have thought for a moment that one was "as good as the other." To be
sure, the foreman was not a trained observer and his interest in Inca
buildings was probably of the slightest. Yet the ruins of Ollantaytambo
are so well known and so impressive that even the most casual traveler
is struck by them and the natives themselves are enormously proud
of them. The real cause of the foreman's inaccuracy was probably his
desire to please. To give an answer which will satisfy the questioner
is a common trait in Peru as well as in many other parts of the
world. Anyhow, the lessons of the past few days were not lost on
us. We now understood the skepticism which had prevailed regarding
Lizarraga's discoveries. It is small wonder that the occasional
stories about Machu Picchu which had drifted into Cuzco had never
elicited any enthusiasm nor even provoked investigation on the part
of those professors and students in the University of Cuzco who were
interested in visiting the remains of Inca civilization. They knew
only too well the fondness of their countrymen for exaggeration and
their inability to report facts accurately.

Obviously, we had not yet found Uiticos. So, bidding farewell to
Señora Carmen, we crossed the Urubamba on the bridge of Colpani and
proceeded down the valley past the mouth of the Lucumayo and the
road from Panticalla, to the hamlet of Chauillay, where the Urubamba
is joined by the Vilcabamba River. [11] Both rivers are restricted
here to narrow gorges, through which their waters rush and roar on
their way to the lower valley. A few rods from Chauillay was a fine
bridge. The natives call it Chuquichaca! Steel and iron have superseded
the old suspension bridge of huge cables made of vegetable fiber, with
its narrow roadway of wattles supported by a network of vines. Yet
here it was that in 1572 the military force sent by the viceroy,
Francisco de Toledo, under the command of General Martin Hurtado and
Captain Garcia, found the forces of the young Inca drawn up to defend
Uiticos. It will be remembered that after a brief preliminary fire
the forces of Tupac Amaru were routed without having destroyed the
bridge and thus Captain Garcia was enabled to accomplish that which
had proved too much for the famous Gonzalo Pizarro. Our inspection of
the surroundings showed that Captain Garcia's companion, Baltasar de
Ocampo, was correct when he said that the occupation of the bridge
of Chuquichaca "was a measure of no small importance for the royal
force." It certainly would have caused the Spaniards "great trouble"
if they had had to rebuild it.

We might now have proceeded to follow Garcia's tracks up the Vilcabamba
had we not been anxious to see the proprietor of the plantation of
Santa Ana, Don Pedro Duque, reputed to be the wisest and ablest man
in this whole province. We felt he would be able to offer us advice of
prime importance in our search. So leaving the bridge of Chuquichaca,
we continued down the Urubamba River which here meanders through a
broad, fertile valley, green with tropical plantations. We passed
groves of bananas and oranges, waving fields of green sugar cane, the
hospitable dwellings of prosperous planters, and the huts of Indians
fortunate enough to dwell in this tropical "Garden of Eden." The day
was hot and thirst-provoking, so I stopped near some large orange trees
loaded with ripe fruit and asked the Indian proprietress to sell me
ten cents' worth. In exchange for the tiny silver real she dragged out
a sack containing more than fifty oranges! I was fain to request her
to permit us to take only as many as our pockets could hold; but she
seemed so surprised and pained, we had to fill our saddle-bags as well.

At the end of the day we crossed the Urubamba River on a fine
steel bridge and found ourselves in the prosperous little town of
Quillabamba, the provincial capital. Its main street was lined with
well-filled shops, evidence of the fact that this is one of the
principal gateways to the Peruvian rubber country which, with the
high price of rubber then prevailing, 1911, was the scene of unusual
activity. Passing through Quillabamba and up a slight hill beyond
it, we came to the long colonnades of the celebrated sugar estate of
Santa Ana founded by the Jesuits, where all explorers who have passed
this way since the days of Charles Wiener have been entertained. He
says that he was received here "with a thousand signs of friendship"
("mille témoignages d'amitié"). We were received the same way. Even
in a region where we had repeatedly received valuable assistance from
government officials and generous hospitality from private individuals,
our reception at Santa Ana stands out as particularly delightful.

Don Pedro Duque took great interest in enabling us to get all possible
information about the little-known region into which we proposed
to penetrate. Born in Colombia, but long resident in Peru, he was
a gentleman of the old school, keenly interested, not only in the
administration and economic progress of his plantation, but also in
the intellectual movements of the outside world. He entered with zest
into our historical-geographical studies. The name Uiticos was new
to him, but after reading over with us our extracts from the Spanish
chronicles he was sure that he could help us find it. And help us he
did. Santa Ana is less than thirteen degrees south of the equator;
the elevation is barely 2000 feet; the "winter" nights are cool;
but the heat in the middle of the day is intense. Nevertheless,
our host was so energetic that as a result of his efforts a number
of the best-informed residents were brought to the conferences at
the great plantation house. They told all they knew of the towns and
valleys where the last four Incas had found a refuge, but that was
not much. They all agreed that "if only Señor Lopez Torres were alive
he could have been of great service" to us, as "he had prospected
for mines and rubber in those parts more than any one else, and had
once seen some Inca ruins in the forest!" Of Uiticos and Chuquipalpa
and most of the places mentioned in the chronicles, none of Don
Pedro's friends had ever heard. It was all rather discouraging,
until one day, by the greatest good fortune, there arrived at Santa
Ana another friend of Don Pedro's, the teniente gobernador of the
village of Lucma in the valley of Vilcabamba--a crusty old fellow
named Evaristo Mogrovejo. His brother, Pio Mogrovejo, had been a
member of the party of energetic Peruvians who, in 1884, had searched
for buried treasure at Choqquequirau and had left their names on
its walls. Evaristo Mogrovejo could understand searching for buried
treasure, but he was totally unable otherwise to comprehend our desire
to find the ruins of the places mentioned by Father Calancha and the
contemporaries of Captain Garcia. Had we first met Mogrovejo in Lucma
he would undoubtedly have received us with suspicion and done nothing
to further our quest. Fortunately for us, his official superior was
the sub-prefect of the province of Convención, lived at Quillabamba
near Santa Ana, and was a friend of Don Pedro's. The sub-prefect had
received orders from his own official superior, the prefect of Cuzco,
to take a personal interest in our undertaking, and accordingly gave
particular orders to Mogrovejo to see to it that we were given every
facility for finding the ancient ruins and identifying the places
of historic interest. Although Mogrovejo declined to risk his skin
in the savage wilderness of Conservidayoc, he carried out his orders
faithfully and was ultimately of great assistance to us.

Extremely gratified with the result of our conferences in Santa
Ana, yet reluctant to leave the delightful hospitality and charming
conversation of our gracious host, we decided to go at once to Lucma,
taking the road on the southwest side of the Urubamba and using
the route followed by the pack animals which carry the precious
cargoes of coca and aguardiente from Santa Ana to Ollantaytambo and
Cuzco. Thanks to Don Pedro's energy, we made an excellent start;
not one of those meant-to-be-early but really late-in-the-morning
departures so customary in the Andes.

We passed through a region which originally had been heavily forested,
had long since been cleared, and was now covered with bushes and
second growth. Near the roadside I noticed a considerable number of
land shells grouped on the under-side of overhanging rocks. As a boy
in the Hawaiian Islands I had spent too many Saturdays collecting
those beautiful and fascinating mollusks, which usually prefer the
trees of upland valleys, to enable me to resist the temptation of
gathering a large number of such as could easily be secured. None of
the snails were moving. The dry season appears to be their resting
period. Some weeks later Professor Foote and I passed through Maras
and were interested to notice thousands of land shells, mostly white in
color, on small bushes, where they seemed to be quietly sleeping. They
were fairly "glued to their resting places"; clustered so closely in
some cases as to give the stems of the bushes a ghostly appearance.

Our present objective was the valley of the river Vilcabamba. So
far as we have been able to learn, only one other explorer had
preceded us--the distinguished scientist Raimondi. His map of the
Vilcabamba is fairly accurate. He reports the presence here of
mines and minerals, but with the exception of an "abandoned tampu"
at Maracnyoc ("the place which possesses a millstone"), he makes no
mention of any ruins. Accordingly, although it seemed from the story
of Baltasar de Ocampo and Captain Garcia's other contemporaries that
we were now entering the valley of Uiticos, it was with feel-hags of
considerable uncertainty that we proceeded on our quest. It may seem
strange that we should have been in any doubt. Yet before our visit
nearly all the Peruvian historians and geographers except Don Carlos
Romero still believed that when the Inca Manco fled from Pizarro he
took up his residence at Choqquequirau in the Apurimac Valley. The
word choqquequirau means "cradle of gold" and this lent color to the
legend that Manco had carried off with him from Cuzco great quantities
of gold utensils and much treasure, which he deposited in his new
capital. Raimondi, knowing that Manco had "retired to Uilcapampa,"
visited both the present villages of Vilcabamba and Pucyura and
saw nothing of any ruins. He was satisfied that Choqquequirau was
Manco's refuge because it was far enough from Pucyura to answer the
requirements of Calancha that it was "two or three days' journey"
from Uilcapampa to Puquiura.

A new road had recently been built along the river bank by the owner
of the sugar estate at Paltaybamba, to enable his pack animals to
travel more rapidly. Much of it had to be carved out of the face
of a solid rock precipice and in places it pierces the cliffs in
a series of little tunnels. My gendarme missed this road and took
the steep old trail over the cliffs. As Ocampo said in his story of
Captain Garcia's expedition, "the road was narrow in the ascent with
forest on the fight, and on the left a ravine of great depth." We
reached Paltaybamba about dusk. The owner, Señor José S. Pancorbo,
was absent, attending to the affairs of a rubber estate in the jungles
of the river San Miguel. The plantation of Paltaybamba occupies the
best lands in the lower Vilcabamba Valley, but lying, as it does,
well off the main highway, visitors are rare and our arrival was
the occasion for considerable excitement. We were not unexpected,
however. It was Señor Pancorbo who had assured us in Cuzco that we
should find ruins near Pucyura and he had told his major-domo to be
on the look-out for us. We had a long talk with the manager of the
plantation and his friends that evening. They had heard little of
any ruins in this vicinity, but repeated one of the stories we had
heard in Santa Ana, that way off somewhere in the montaña there was
"an Inca city." All agreed that it was a very difficult place to reach;
and none of them had ever been there. In the morning the manager gave
us a guide to the next house up the valley, with orders that the man
at that house should relay us to the next, and so on. These people,
all tenants of the plantation, obligingly carried out their orders,
although at considerable inconvenience to themselves.

The Vilcabamba Valley above Paltaybamba is very picturesque. There
are high mountains on either side, covered with dense jungle and dark
green foliage, in pleasing contrast to the light green of the fields of
waving sugar cane. The valley is steep, the road is very winding, and
the torrent of the Vilcabamba roars loudly, even in July. What it must
be like in February, the rainy season, we could only surmise. About
two leagues above Paltaybamba, at or near the spot called by Raimondi
"Maracnyoc," an "abandoned tampu," we came to some old stone walls,
the ruins of a place now called Huayara or "Hoyara." I believe them to
be the ruins of the first Spanish settlement in this region, a place
referred to by Ocampo, who says that the fugitives of Tupac Amaru's
army were "brought back to the valley of Hoyara," where they were
"settled in a large village, and a city of Spaniards was founded
.... This city was founded on an extensive plain near a river, with
an admirable climate. From the river channels of water were taken for
the service of the city, the water being very good." The water here
is excellent, far better than any in the Cuzco Basin. On the plain
near the river are some of the last cane fields of the plantation
of Paltaybamba. "Hoyara" was abandoned after the discovery of gold
mines several leagues farther up the valley, and the Spanish "city"
was moved to the village now called Vilcabamba.

Our next stop was at Lucma, the home of Teniente Gobernador
Mogrovejo. The village of Lucma is an irregular cluster of about thirty
thatched-roofed huts. It enjoys a moderate amount of prosperity due to
the fact of its being located near one of the gateways to the interior,
the pass to the rubber estates in the San Miguel Valley. Here are
"houses of refreshment" and two shops, the only ones in the region. One
can buy cotton cloth, sugar, canned goods and candles. A picturesque
belfry and a small church, old and somewhat out of repair, crown the
small hill back of the village. There is little level land, but the
slopes are gentle, and permit a considerable amount of agriculture.

There was no evidence of extensive terracing. Maize and alfalfa seemed
to be the principal crops. Evaristo Mogrovejo lived on the little plaza
around which the houses of the more important people were grouped. He
had just returned from Santa Ana by the way of Idma, using a much
worse trail than that over which we had come, but one which enabled
him to avoid passing through Paltaybamba, with whose proprietor he
was not on good terms. He told us stories of misadventures which had
happened to travelers at the gates of Paltaybamba, stories highly
reminiscent of feudal days in Europe, when provincial barons were
accustomed to lay tribute on all who passed.

We offered to pay Mogrovejo a gratificación of a sol, or Peruvian
silver dollar, for every ruin to which he would take us, and double
that amount if the locality should prove to contain particularly
interesting ruins. This aroused all his business instincts. He
summoned his alcaldes and other well-informed Indians to appear and be
interviewed. They told us there were "many ruins" hereabouts! Being
a practical man himself, Mogrovejo had never taken any interest in
ruins. Now he saw the chance not only to make money out of the ancient
sites, but also to gain official favor by carrying out with unexampled
vigor the orders of his superior, the sub-prefect of Quillabamba. So
he exerted himself to the utmost in our behalf.

The next day we were guided up a ravine to the top of the ridge back
of Lucma. This ridge divides the upper from the lower Vilcabamba. On
all sides the hills rose several thousand feet above us. In places
they were covered with forest growth, chiefly above the cloud line,
where daily moisture encourages vegetation. In some of the forests on
the more gentle slopes recent clearings gave evidence of enterprise
on the part of the present inhabitants of the valley. After an hour's
climb we reached what were unquestionably the ruins of Inca structures,
on an artificial terrace which commands a magnificent view far down
toward Paltaybamba and the bridge of Chuquichaca, as well as in the
opposite direction. The contemporaries of Captain Garcia speak of a
number of forts or pucarás which had to be stormed and captured before
Tupac Amaru could be taken prisoner. This was probably one of those
"fortresses." Its strategic position and the ease with which it could
be defended point to such an interpretation. Nevertheless this ruin
did not fit the "fortress of Pitcos," nor the "House of the Sun"
near the "white rock over the spring." It is called Incahuaracana,
"the place where the Inca shoots with a sling."

Incahuaracana consists of two typical Inca edifices--one of two
rooms, about 70 by 20 feet, and the other, very long and narrow,
150 by 11 feet. The walls, of unhewn stone laid in clay, were not
particularly well built and resemble in many respects the ruins at
Choqquequirau. The rooms of the principal house are without windows,
although each has three front doors and is lined with niches, four
or five on a side. The long, narrow building was divided into three
rooms, and had several front doors. A force of two hundred Indian
soldiers could have slept in these houses without unusual crowding.

We left Lucma the next day, forded the Vilcabamba River and soon
had an uninterrupted view up the valley to a high, truncated hill,
its top partly covered with a scrubby growth of trees and bushes,
its sides steep and rocky. We were told that the name of the hill was
"Rosaspata," a word of modern hybrid origin--pata being Quichua for
"hill," while rosas is the Spanish word for "roses." Mogrovejo said
his Indians told him that on the "Hill of Roses" there were more ruins.

At the foot of the hill, and across the river, is the village of
Pucyura. When Raimondi was here in 1865 it was but a "wretched hamlet
with a paltry chapel." To-day it is more prosperous. There is a large
public school here, to which children come from villages many miles
away. So crowded is the school that in fine weather the children
sit on benches out of doors. The boys all go barefooted. The girls
wear high boots. I once saw them reciting a geography lesson, but I
doubt if even the teacher knew whether or not this was the site of
the first school in this whole region. For it was to "Puquiura" that
Friar Marcos came in 1566. Perhaps he built the "mezquina capilla"
which Raimondi scorned. If this were the "Puquiura" of Friar Marcos,
then Uiticos must be near by, for he and Friar Diego walked with
their famous procession of converts from "Puquiura" to the House of
the Sun and the "white rock" which was "close to Uiticos."

Crossing the Vilcabamba on a footbridge that afternoon, we came
immediately upon some old ruins that were not Incaic. Examination
showed that they were apparently the remains of a very crude Spanish
crushing mill, obviously intended to pulverize gold-bearing quartz on a
considerable scale. Perhaps this was the place referred to by Ocampo,
who says that the Inca Titu Cusi attended masses said by his friend
Friar Diego in a chapel which is "near my houses and on my own lands,
in the mining district of Puquiura, close to the ore-crushing mill of
Don Christoval de Albornoz, Precentor that was of the Cuzco Cathedral."


Pucyura and the Hill of Rosaspata in the Vilcabamba Valley

One of the millstones is five feet in diameter and more than a foot
thick. It lay near a huge, flat rock of white granite, hollowed
out so as to enable the millstone to be rolled slowly around in a
hollow trough. There was also a very large Indian mortar and pestle,
heavy enough to need the services of four men to work it. The mortar
was merely the hollowed-out top of a large boulder which projected
a few inches above the surface of the ground. The pestle, four feet
in diameter, was of the characteristic rocking-stone shape used from
time immemorial by the Indians of the highlands for crushing maize or
potatoes. Since no other ruins of a Spanish quartz-crushing plant have
been found in this vicinity, it is probable that this once belonged
to Don Christoval de Albornoz.

Near the mill the Tincochaca River joins the Vilcabamba from the
southeast. Crossing this on a footbridge, I followed Mogrovejo to an
old and very dilapidated structure in the saddle of the hill on the
south side of Rosaspata. They called the place Uncapampa, or Inca
pampa. It is probably one of the forts stormed by Captain Garcia
and his men in 1571. The ruins represent a single house, 166 feet
long by 33 feet wide. If the house had partitions they long since
disappeared. There were six doorways in front, none on the ends or
in the rear walls. The ruins resembled those of Incahuaracana, near
Lucma. The walls had originally been built of rough stones laid in
clay. The general finish was extremely rough. The few niches, all
at one end of the structure, were irregular, about two feet in width
and a little more than this in height. The one corner of the building
which was still standing had a height of about ten feet. Two hundred
Inca soldiers could have slept here also.

Leaving Uncapampa and following my guides, I climbed up the ridge and
followed a path along its west side to the top of Rosaspata. Passing
some ruins much overgrown and of a primitive character, I soon found
myself on a pleasant pampa near the top of the mountain. The view
from here commands "a great part of the province of Uilcapampa." It
is remarkably extensive on all sides; to the north and south are
snow-capped mountains, to the east and west, deep verdure-clad valleys.

Furthermore, on the north side of the pampa is an extensive level
space with a very sumptuous and majestic building "erected with great
skill and art, all the lintels of the doors, the principal as well as
the ordinary ones," being of white granite elaborately cut. At last
we had found a place which seemed to meet most of the requirements
of Ocampo's description of the "fortress of Pitcos." To be sure it
was not of "marble," and the lintels of the doors were not "carved,"
in our sense of the word. They were, however, beautifully finished,
as may be seen from the illustrations, and the white granite might
easily pass for marble. If only we could find in this vicinity that
Temple of the Sun which Calancha said was "near" Uiticos, all doubts
would be at an end.

That night we stayed at Tincochaca, in the hut of an Indian friend of
Mogrovejo. As usual we made inquiries. Imagine our feelings when in
response to the oft-repeated question he said that in a neighboring
valley there was a great white rock over a spring of water! If his
story should prove to be true our quest for Uiticos was over. It
behooved us to make a very careful study of what we had found.


The Fortress of Uiticos and the House of the Sun

When the viceroy, Toledo, determined to conquer that last stronghold of
the Incas where for thirty-five years they had defied the supreme
power of Spain, he offered a thousand dollars a year as a pension
to the soldier who would capture Tupac Amaru. Captain Garcia
earned the pension, but failed to receive it; the "mañana habit"
was already strong in the days of Philip II. So the doughty captain
filed a collection of testimonials with Philip's Royal Council of
the Indies. Among these is his own statement of what happened on the
campaign against Tupac Amaru. In this he says: "and having arrived
at the principal fortress, Guay-napucará ["the young fortress"],
which the Incas had fortified, we found it defended by the Prince
Philipe Quispetutio, a son of the Inca Titu Cusi, with his captains
and soldiers. It is on a high eminence surrounded with rugged crags and
jungles, very dangerous to ascend and almost impregnable. Nevertheless,
with my aforesaid company of soldiers I went up and gained the
fortress, but only with the greatest possible labor and danger. Thus
we gained the province of Uilcapampa." The viceroy himself says this
important victory was due to Captain Garcia's skill and courage in
storming the heights of Guaynapucará, "on Saint John the Baptist's day,
in 1572."

The "Hill of Roses" is indeed "a high eminence surrounded with rugged
crags." The side of easiest approach is protected by a splendid, long
wall, built so carefully as not to leave a single toe-hold for active
besiegers. The barracks at Uncapampa could have furnished a contingent
to make an attack on that side very dangerous. The hill is steep on
all sides, and it would have been extremely easy for a small force
to have defended it. It was undoubtedly "almost impregnable." This
was the feature Captain Garcia was most likely to remember.

On the very summit of the hill are the ruins of a partly enclosed
compound consisting of thirteen or fourteen houses arranged so as to
form a rough square, with one large and several small courtyards. The
outside dimensions of the compound are about 160 feet by 145 feet. The
builders showed the familiar Inca sense of symmetry in arranging
the houses, Due to the wanton destruction of many buildings by the
natives in their efforts at treasure-hunting, the walls have been so
pulled down that it is impossible to get the exact dimensions of the
buildings. In only one of them could we be sure that there had been
any niches.


Principal Doorway of the Long Palace at Rosaspata


Another Doorway in the Ruins of Rosaspata

Most interesting of all is the structure which caught the attention
of Ocampo and remained fixed in his memory. Enough remains of this
building to give a good idea of its former grandeur. It was indeed a
fit residence for a royal Inca, an exile from Cuzco. It is 245 feet by
43 feet. There were no windows, but it was lighted by thirty doorways,
fifteen in front and the same in back. It contained ten large rooms,
besides three hallways running from front to rear. The walls were built
rather hastily and are not noteworthy, but the principal entrances,
namely, those leading to each hall, are particularly well made; not,
to be sure, of "marble" as Ocampo said--there is no marble in the
province--but of finely cut ashlars of white granite. The lintels
of the principal doorways, as well as of the ordinary ones, are
also of solid blocks of white granite, the largest being as much as
eight feet in length. The doorways are better than any other ruins in
Uilcapampa except those of Machu Picchu, thus justifying the mention
of them made by Ocampo, who lived near here and had time to become
thoroughly familiar with their appearance. Unfortunately, a very
small portion of the edifice was still standing. Most of the rear
doors had been filled up with ashlars, in order to make a continuous
fence. Other walls had been built from the ruins, to keep cattle out
of the cultivated pampa. Rosaspata is at an elevation which places it
on the borderland between the cold grazing country, with its root crops
and sublimated pigweeds, and the temperate zone where maize flourishes.

On the south side of the hilltop, opposite the long palace, is the ruin
of a single structure, 78 feet long and 35 feet wide, containing doors
on both sides, no niches and no evidence of careful workmanship. It
was probably a barracks for a company of soldiers.

The intervening "pampa" might have been the scene of those games
of bowls and quoits, which were played by the Spanish refugees who
fled from the wrath of Gonzalo Pizarro and found refuge with the Inca
Manco. Here may have occurred that fatal game when one of the players
lost his temper and killed his royal host.

Our excavations in 1915 yielded a mass of rough potsherds, a few Inca
whirl-bobs and bronze shawl pins, and also a number of iron articles of
European origin, heavily rusted--horseshoe nails, a buckle, a pair of
scissors, several bridle or saddle ornaments, and three Jew's-harps. My
first thought was that modern Peruvians must have lived here at one
time, although the necessity of carrying all water supplies up the hill
would make this unlikely. Furthermore, the presence here of artifacts
of European origin does not of itself point to such a conclusion. In
the first place, we know that Manco was accustomed to make raids
on Spanish travelers between Cuzco and Lima. He might very easily
have brought back with him a Spanish bridle. In the second place the
musical instruments may have belonged to the refugees, who might have
enjoyed whiling away their exile with melancholy twanging. In the
third place the retainers of the Inca probably visited the Spanish
market in Cuzco, where there would have been displayed at times a
considerable assortment of goods of European manufacture. Finally
Rodriguez de Figueroa speaks expressly of two pairs of scissors he
brought as a present to Titu Cusi. That no such array of European
artifacts has been turned up in the excavations of other important
sites in the province of Uilcapampa would seem to indicate that they
were abandoned before the Spanish Conquest or else were occupied by
natives who had no means of accumulating such treasures.

Thanks to Ocampo's description of the fortress which Tupac Amaru was
occupying in 1572 there is no doubt that this was the palace of the
last Inca. Was it also the capital of his brothers, Titu Cusi and Sayri
Tupac, and his father, Manco? It is astonishing how few details we have
by which the Uiticos of Manco may be identified. His contemporaries
are strangely silent. When he left Cuzco and sought refuge "in the
remote fastnesses of the Andes," there was a Spanish soldier, Cieza
de Leon, in the armies of Pizarro who had a genius for seeing and
hearing interesting things and writing them down, and who tried to
interview as many members of the royal family as he could;--Manco
had thirteen brothers. Ciezo de Leon says he was much disappointed
not to be able to talk with Manco himself and his sons, but they had
"retired into the provinces of Uiticos, which are in the most retired
part of those regions, beyond the great Cordillera of the Andes." [12]
The Spanish refugees who died as the result of the murder of Manco
may not have known how to write. Anyhow, so far as we can learn they
left no accounts from which any one could identify his residence.

Titu Cusi gives no definite clue, but the activities of Friar Marcos
and Friar Diego, who came to be his spiritual advisers, are fully
described by Calancha. It will be remembered that Calancha remarks that
"close to Uiticos in a village called Chuquipalpa, is a House of the
Sun and in it a white stone over a spring of water." Our guide had
told us there was such a place close to the hill of Rosaspata.

On the day after making the first studies of the "Hill of Roses," I
followed the impatient Mogrovejo--whose object was not to study ruins
but to earn dollars for finding them--and went over the hill on its
northeast side to the Valley of Los Andenes ("the Terraces"). Here,
sure enough, was a large, white granite boulder, flattened on top,
which had a carved seat or platform on its northern side. Its west
side covered a cave in which were several niches. This cave had been
walled in on one side. When Mogrovejo and the Indian guide said there
was a manantial de agua ("spring of water") near by, I became greatly
interested. On investigation, however, the" spring" turned out to
be nothing but part of a small irrigating ditch. (Manantial means
"spring"; it also means "running water"). But the rock was not "over
the water." Although this was undoubtedly one of those huacas, or
sacred boulders, selected by the Incas as the visible representations
of the founders of a tribe and thus was an important accessory to
ancestor worship, it was not the Yurak Rumi for which we were looking.


Northeast Face of Yurak Rumi

Leaving the boulder and the ruins of what possibly had been the house
of its attendant priest, we followed the little water course past a
large number of very handsomely built agricultural terraces, the first
we had seen since leaving Machu Picchu and the most important ones in
the valley. So scarce are andenes in this region and so noteworthy were
these in particular that this vale has been named after them. They were
probably built under the direction of Manco. Near them are a number of
carved boulders, huacas. One had an intihuatana, or sundial nubbin,
on it; another was carved in the shape of a saddle. Continuing, we
followed a trickling stream through thick woods until we suddenly
arrived at an open place called ñusta Isppana. Here before us was a
great white rock over a spring. Our guides had not misled us. Beneath
the trees were the ruins of an Inca temple, flanking and partly
enclosing the gigantic granite boulder, one end of which overhung a
small pool of running water. When we learned that the present name
of this immediate vicinity is Chuquipalta our happiness was complete.

It was late on the afternoon of August 9, 1911, when I first saw this
remarkable shrine. Densely wooded hills rose on every side. There was
not a hut to be seen; scarcely a sound to be heard. It was an ideal
place for practicing the mystic ceremonies of an ancient cult. The
remarkable aspect of this great boulder and the dark pool beneath its
shadow had caused this to become a place of worship. Here, without
doubt, was "the principal mochadero of those forested mountains." It is
still venerated by the Indians of the vicinity. At last we had found
the place where, in the days of Titu Cusi, the Inca priests faced the
east, greeted the rising sun, "extended their hands toward it," and
"threw kisses to it," "a ceremony of the most profound resignation and
reverence." We may imagine the sun priests, clad in their resplendent
robes of office, standing on the top of the rock at the edge of
its steepest side, their faces lit up with the rosy light of the
early morning, awaiting the moment when the Great Divinity should
appear above the eastern hills and receive their adoration. As it
rose they saluted it and cried: "O Sun! Thou who art in peace and
safety, shine upon us, keep us from sickness, and keep us in health
and safety. O Sun! Thou who hast said let there be Cuzco and Tampu,
grant that these children may conquer all other people. We beseech
thee that thy children the Incas may be always conquerors, since it
is for this that thou hast created them."


Plan of the Ruins of the Temple of the Sun at Ñusta Isppana Formerly
Yurak Rumi in Chuquipalpa Near Uiticos

It was during Titu Cusi's reign that Friars Marcos and Diego marched
over here with their converts from Puquiura, each carrying a stick of
firewood. Calancha says the Indians worshiped the water as a divine
thing, that the Devil had at times shown himself in the water. Since
the surface of the little pool, as one gazes at it, does not reflect
the sky, but only the overhanging, dark, mossy rock, the water looks
black and forbidding, even to unsuperstitious Yankees. It is easy to
believe that simple-minded Indian worshipers in this secluded spot
could readily believe that they actually saw the Devil appearing
"as a visible manifestation" in the water. Indians came from the most
sequestered villages of the dense forests to worship here and to offer
gifts and sacrifices. Nevertheless, the Augustinian monks here raised
the standard of the cross, recited their orisons, and piled firewood
all about the rock and temple. Exorcising the Devil and calling him
by all the vile names they could think of, the friars commanded him
never to return. Setting fire to the pile, they burned up the temple,
scorched the rock, making a powerful impression on the Indians and
causing the poor Devil to flee, "roaring in a fury." "The cruel Devil
never more returned to the rock nor to this district." Whether the
roaring which they heard was that of the Devil or of the flames we
can only conjecture. Whether the conflagration temporarily dried up
the swamp or interfered with the arrangements of the water supply so
that the pool disappeared for the time being and gave the Devil no
chance to appear in the water, where he had formerly been accustomed
to show himself, is also a matter for speculation.

The buildings of the House of the Sun are in a very ruinous state,
but the rock itself, with its curious carvings, is well preserved
notwithstanding the great conflagration of 1570. Its length is
fifty-two feet, its width thirty feet, and its height above the present
level of the water, twenty-five feet. On the west side of the rock are
seats and large steps or platforms. It was customary to kill llamas at
these holy huacas. On top of the rock is a flattened place which may
have been used for such sacrifices. From it runs a little crack in
the boulder, which has been artificially enlarged and may have been
intended to carry off the blood of the victim killed on top of the
rock. It is still used for occult ceremonies of obscure origin which
are quietly practiced here by the more superstitious Indian women of
the valley, possibly in memory of the ñusta or Inca princess for whom
the shrine is named.

On the south side of the monolith are several large platforms and four
or five small seats which have been cut in the rock. Great care was
exercised in cutting out the platforms. The edges are very nearly
square, level, and straight. The east side of the rock projects
over the spring. Two seats have been carved immediately above the
water. On the north side there are no seats. Near the water, steps
have been carved. There is one flight of three and another of seven
steps. Above them the rock has been flattened artificially and carved
into a very bold relief. There are ten projecting square stones,
like those usually called intihuatana or "places to which the sun
is tied." In one line are seven; one is slightly apart from the six
others. The other three are arranged in a triangular position above
the seven. It is significant that these stones are on the northeast
face of the rock, where they are exposed to the rising sun and cause
striking shadows at sunrise.


Carved Seats and Platforms of Ñusta Isppana


Two of the Seven Seats Near the Spring Under the Great White Rock

Our excavations yielded no artifacts whatever and only a handful of
very rough old potsherds of uncertain origin. The running water under
the rock was clear and appeared to be a spring, but when we drained
the swamp which adjoins the great rock on its northeastern side, we
found that the spring was a little higher up the hill and that the
water ran through the dark pool. We also found that what looked like
a stone culvert on the borders of the little pool proved to be the
top of the back of a row of seven or eight very fine stone seats. The
platform on which the seats rested and the seats themselves are parts
of three or four large rocks nicely fitted together. Some of the
seats are under the black shadows of the overhanging rock. Since the
pool was an object of fear and mystery the seats were probably used
only by priests or sorcerers. It would have been a splendid place to
practice divination. No doubt the devils "roared."

All our expeditions in the ancient province of Uilcapampa have
failed to disclose the presence of any other "white rock over a
spring of water" surrounded by the ruins of a possible "House of
the Sun." Consequently it seems reasonable to adopt the following
conclusions: First, ñusta Isppana is the Yurak Rumi of Father
Calancha. The Chuquipalta of to-day is the place to which he refers
as Chuquipalpa. Second, Uiticos, "close to" this shrine, was once
the name of the present valley of Vilcabamba between Tincochaca and
Lucma. This is the "Viticos" of Cieza de Leon, a contemporary of Manco,
who says that it was to the province of Viticos that Manco determined
to retire when he rebelled against Pizarro, and that "having reached
Viticos with a great quantity of treasure collected from various
parts, together with his women and retinue, the king, Manco Inca,
established himself in the strongest place he could find, whence he
sallied forth many times and in many directions and disturbed those
parts which were quiet, to do what harm he could to the Spaniards,
whom he considered as cruel enemies." Third, the "strongest place"
of Cieza, the Guaynapucará of Garcia, was Rosaspata, referred to by
Ocampo as "the fortress of Pitcos," where, he says, "there was a level
space with majestic buildings," the most noteworthy feature of which
was that they had two kinds of doors and both kinds had white stone
lintels. Fourth, the modern village of Pucyura in the valley of the
river Vilcabamba is the Puquiura of Father Calancha, the site of the
first mission church in this region, as assumed by Raimondi, although
he was disappointed in the insignificance of the "wretched little
village." The remains of the old quartz-crushing plant in Tincochaca,
which has already been noted, the distance from the "House of the Sun,"
not too great for the religious procession, and the location of Pucyura
near the fortress, all point to the correctness of this conclusion.

Finally, Calancha says that Friar Ortiz, after he had secured
permission from Titu Cusi to establish the second missionary station
in Uilcapampa, selected "the town of Huarancalla, which was populous
and well located in the midst of a number of other little towns and
villages. There was a distance of two or three days' journey from
one convent to the other. Leaving Friar Marcos in Puquiura, Friar
Diego went to his new establishment, and in a short time built a
church." There is no "Huarancalla" to-day, nor any tradition of any,
but in Mapillo, a pleasant valley at an elevation of about 10,000
feet, in the temperate zone where the crops with which the Incas
were familiar might have been raised, near pastures where llamas and
alpacas could have flourished, is a place called Huarancalque. The
valley is populous and contains a number of little towns and
villages. Furthermore, Huarancalque is two or three days' journey
from Pucyura and is on the road which the Indians of this region
now use in going to Ayacucho. This was undoubtedly the route used by
Manco in his raids on Spanish caravans. The Mapillo flows into the
Apurimac near the mouth of the river Pampas. Not far up the Pampas is
the important bridge between Bom-bon and Ocros, which Mr. Hay and I
crossed in 1909 on our way from Cuzco to Lima. The city of Ayacucho was
founded by Pizarro, a day's journey from this bridge. The necessity
for the Spanish caravans to cross the river Pampas at this point
made it easy for Manco's foraging expeditions to reach them by sudden
marches from Uiticos down the Mapillo River by way of Huarancalque,
which is probably the "Huarancalla" of Calancha's "Chronicles." He
must have had rafts or canoes on which to cross the Apurimac, which
is here very wide and deep. In the valleys between Huarancalque and
Lucma, Manco was cut off from central Peru by the Apurimac and its
magnificent canyon, which in many places has a depth of over two
miles. He was cut off from Cuzco by the inhospitable snow fields and
glaciers of Salcantay, Soray, and the adjacent ridges, even though
they are only fifty miles from Cuzco. Frequently all the passes are
completely snow-blocked. Fatalities have been known even in recent
years. In this mountainous province Manco could be sure of finding
not only security from his Spanish enemies, but any climate that he
desired and an abundance of food for his followers. There seems to
be no reason to doubt that the retired region around the modern town
of Pucyura in the upper Vilcabamba Valley was once called Uiticos.



Although the refuge of Manco is frequently spoken of as Uiticos
by the contemporary writers, the word Vilcabamba, or Uilcapampa,
is used even more often. In fact Garcilasso, the chief historian of
the Incas, himself the son of an Inca princess, does not mention
Uiticos. Vilcabamba was the common name of the province. Father
Calancha says it was a very large area, "covering fourteen degrees of
longitude," about seven hundred miles wide. It included many savage
tribes "of the far interior" who acknowledged the supremacy of the
Incas and brought tribute to Manco and his sons. "The Mañaries and
the Pilcosones came a hundred and two hundred leagues" to visit the
Inca in Uiticos.

The name, Vilcabamba, is also applied repeatedly to a town. Titu Cusi
says he lived there many years during his youth. Calancha says it
was "two days' journey from Puquiura." Raimondi thought it must be
Choqquequirau. Captain Garcia's soldiers, however, speak of it as
being down in the warm valleys of the montaña, the present rubber
country. On the other hand the only place which bears this name on
the maps of Peru is near the source of the Vilcabamba River, not more
than three or four leagues from Pucyura. We determined to visit it.

We found the town to lie on the edge of bleak upland pastures, 11,750
feet above the sea. Instead of Inca walls or ruins Vilcabamba has
threescore solidly built Spanish houses. At the time of our visit they
were mostly empty, although their roofs, of unusually heavy thatch,
seemed to be in good repair. We stayed at the house of the gobernador,
Manuel Condoré. The nights were bitterly cold and we should have been
most uncomfortable in a tent.

The gobernador said that the reason the town was deserted was that most
of the people were now attending to their chacras, or little farms,
and looking after their herds of sheep and cattle in the neighboring
valleys. He said that only at special festival times, such as the
annual visit of the priest, who celebrates mass in the church here,
once a year, are the buildings fully occupied. In the latter part
of the sixteenth century, gold mines were discovered in the adjacent
mountains and the capital of the Spanish province of Vilcabamba was
transferred from Hoyara to this place. Its official name, Condoré
said, is still San Francisco de la Victoria de Vilcabamba, and as
such it occurs on most of the early maps of Peru. The solidity of
the stone houses was due to the prosperity of the gold diggers. The
present air of desolation and absence of population is probably due
to the decay of that industry.


Ñusta Isppana

The church is large. Near it, and slightly apart from the building,
is a picturesque stone belfry with three old Spanish bells. Condoré
said that the church was built at least three hundred years ago. It
is probably the very structure whose construction was carefully
supervised by Ocampo. In the negotiations for permission to move
the municipality of San Francisco de la Victoria from Hoyara to the
neighborhood of the mines, Ocampo, then one of the chief settlers,
went to Cuzco as agent of the interested parties, to take the matter
up with the viceroy. Ocampo's story is in part as follows:

"The change of site appeared convenient for the service of God our
Lord and of his Majesty, and for the increase of his royal fifths,
as well as beneficial to the inhabitants of the said city. Having
examined the capitulations and reasons, the said Don Luis de Velasco
[the viceroy] granted the licence to move the city to where it is
now founded, ordering that it should have the title and name of the
city of San Francisco of the Victory of Uilcapampa, which was its
first name. By this change of site I, the said Baltasar de Ocampo,
performed a great service to God our Lord and his Majesty. Through my
care, industry and solicitude, a very good church was built, with its
principal chapel and great doors." We found the walls to be heavy,
massive, and well buttressed, the doors to be unusually large and
the whole to show considerable "industry and solicitude."

The site was called "Onccoy, where the Spaniards who first discovered
this land found the flocks and herds." Modern Vilcabamba is on grassy
slopes, well suited for flocks and herds. On the steeper slopes
potatoes are still raised, although the valley itself is given up
to-day almost entirely to pasture lands. We saw horses, cattle, and
sheep in abundance where the Incas must have pastured their llamas
and alpacas. In the rocky cliffs near by are remains of the mines
begun in Ocampo's day. There is little doubt that this was Onccoy,
although that name is now no longer used here.

We met at the gobernador's an old Indian who admitted that an Inca had
once lived on Rosaspata Hill. Of all the scores of persons whom we
interviewed through the courtesy of the intelligent planters of the
region or through the customary assistance of government officials,
this Indian was the only one to make such an admission. Even he denied
having heard of "Uiticos" or any of its variations. If we were indeed
in the country of Manco and his sons, why should no one be familiar
with that name?

Perhaps, after all, it is not surprising. The Indians of the highlands
have now for so many generations been neglected by their rulers
and brutalized by being allowed to drink all the alcohol they can
purchase and to assimilate all the cocaine they can secure, through
the constant chewing of coca leaves, that they have lost much if not
all of their racial self-respect. It is the educated mestizos of the
principal modern cities of Peru who, tracing their descent not only
from the Spanish soldiers of the Conquest, but also from the blood
of the race which was conquered, take pride in the achievements of
the Incas and are endeavoring to preserve the remains of the wonderful
civilization of their native ancestors. Until quite recently Vilcabamba
was an unknown land to most of the Peruvians, even those who live in
the city of Cuzco. Had the capital of the last four Incas been in a
region whose climate appealed to Europeans, whose natural resources
were sufficient to support a large population, and whose roads made
transportation no more difficult than in most parts of the Andes,
it would have been occupied from the days of Captain Garcia to the
present by Spanish-speaking mestizos, who might have been interested
in preserving the name of the ancient Inca capital and the traditions
connected with it.

After the mines which attracted Ocampo and his friends "petered
out," or else, with the primitive tools of the sixteenth century,
ceased to yield adequate returns, the Spaniards lost interest in that
remote region. The rude trails which connected Pucyura with Cuzco and
civilization were at best dangerous and difficult. They were veritably
impassable during a large part of the year even to people accustomed
to Andean "roads."

The possibility of raising sugar cane and coca between Huadquiña and
Santa Ana attracted a few Spanish-speaking people to live in the lower
Urubamba Valley, notwithstanding the difficult transportation over
the passes near Mts. Salcantay and Veronica; but there was nothing
to lead any one to visit the upper Vilcabamba Valley or to desire
to make it a place of residence. And until Señor Pancorbo opened
the road to Lucma, Pucyura was extremely difficult of access. Nine
generations of Indians lived and died in the province of Uilcapampa
between the time of Tupac Amaru and the arrival of the first modern
explorers. The great stone buildings constructed on the "Hill of
Roses" in the days of Manco and his sons were allowed to fall into
ruin. Their roofs decayed and disappeared. The names of those who
once lived here were known to fewer and fewer of the natives. The
Indians themselves had no desire to relate the story of the various
forts and palaces to their Spanish landlords, nor had the latter any
interest in hearing such tales. It was not until the renaissance of
historical and geographical curiosity, in the nineteenth century, that
it occurred to any one to look for Manco's capital. When Raimondi,
the first scientist to penetrate Vilcabamba, reached Pucyura, no one
thought to tell him that on the hilltop opposite the village once
lived the last of the Incas and that the ruins of their palaces were
still there, hidden underneath a thick growth of trees and vines.

A Spanish document of 1598 says the first town of "San Francisco
de la Victoria de Vilcabamba" was in the "valley of Viticos." The
town's long name became shortened to Vilcabamba. Then the river which
flowed past was called the Vilcabamba, and is so marked on Raimondi's
map. Uiticos had long since passed from the memory of man.

Furthermore, the fact that we saw no llamas or alpacas in the upland
pastures, but only domestic animals of European origin, would also
seem to indicate that for some reason or other this region had been
abandoned by the Indians themselves. It is difficult to believe that
if the Indians had inhabited these valleys continuously from Inca
times to the present we should not have found at least a few of the
indigenous American camels here. By itself, such an occurrence would
hardly seem worth a remark, but taken in connection with the loss of
traditions regarding Uiticos, it would seem to indicate that there
must have been quite a long period of time in which no persons of
consequence lived in this vicinity.

We are told by the historians of the colonial period that the mining
operations of the first Spanish settlers were fatal to at least
a million Indians. It is quite probable that the introduction of
ordinary European contagious diseases, such as measles, chicken pox,
and smallpox, may have had a great deal to do with the destruction
of a large proportion of those unfortunates whose untimely deaths
were attributed by historians to the very cruel practices of the
early Spanish miners and treasure seekers. Both causes undoubtedly
contributed to the result. There seems to be no question that the
population diminished enormously in early colonial days. If this is
true, the remaining population would naturally have sought regions
where the conditions of existence and human intercourse were less
severe and rigorous than in the valleys of Uiticos and Uilcapampa.

The students and travelers of the late nineteenth and early twentieth
centuries, including such a careful observer as Bandelier, are of
the opinion that the present-day population in the Andes of Peru
and Bolivia is about as great as that at the time of the Conquest. In
other words, with the decay of early colonial mining and the consequent
disappearance of bad living conditions and forced labor at the mines,
also with the rise of partial immunity to European diseases, and
the more comfortable conditions of existence which have followed the
coming of Peruvian independence, it is reasonable to suppose that the
number of highland Indians has increased. With this increase has come
a consequent crowding in certain localities. There would be a natural
tendency to seek less crowded regions, even at the expense of using
difficult mountain trails. This would lead to their occupying as remote
and inaccessible a region as the ancient province of Uilcapampa. It
is probable that after the gold mines ceased to pay, and before the
demand for rubber caused the San Miguel Valley to be appropriated by
the white man, there was a period of nearly three hundred years when
no one of education or of intelligence superior to the ordinary Indian
shepherd lived anywhere near Pucyura or Lucma. The adobe houses of
these modern villages look fairly modern. They may have been built
in the nineteenth century.

Such a theory would account for the very small amount of information
prevailing in Peru regarding the region where we had been privileged
to find so many ruins. This ignorance led the Peruvian geographers
Raimondi and Paz Soldan to conclude that Choqquequirau, the only ruins
reported between the Apurimac and the Urubamba, must have been the
capital of the Incas who took refuge there. It also makes it seem
more reasonable that the existence of Rosaspata and ñusta Isppana
should not have been known to Peruvian geographers and historians,
or even to the government officials who lived in the adjacent villages.

We felt sure we had found Uiticos; nevertheless it was quite
apparent that we had not yet found all the places which were called
Vilcabamba. Examination of the writers of the sixteenth century
shows that there may have been three places bearing that name;
one spoken of by Calancha as Vilcabamba Viejo ("the old"), another
also so called by Ocampo, and a third founded by the Spaniards,
namely, the town we were now in. The story of the first is given in
Calancha's account of the trials and tribulations of Friar Marcos
and the martyrdom of Friar Diego Ortiz. The chronicler tells with
considerable detail of their visit to "Vilcabamba Viejo." It was
after the monks had already founded their religious establishment
at Puquiura that they learned of the existence of this important
religious center. They urged Titu Cusi to permit them to visit
it. For a long time he refused. Its whereabouts remained unknown to
them, but its strategic position as a religious stronghold led them
to continue their demands. Finally, either to rid himself of their
importunities or because he imagined the undertaking might be made
amusing, he yielded to their requests and bade them prepare for the
journey. Calancha says that the Inca himself accompanied the two
friars, with a number of his captains and chieftains, taking them
from Puquiura over a very rough and rugged road. The Inca, however,
did not suffer from the character of the trail because, like the
Roman generals of old, he was borne comfortably along in a litter by
servants accustomed to this duty. The unfortunate missionaries were
obliged to go on foot. The wet, rocky trail soon demoralized their
footgear. When they came to a particularly bad place in the road,
"Ungacacha," the trail went for some distance through water. The
monks were forced to wade. The water was very cold. The Inca and his
chieftains were amused to see how the friars were hampered by their
monastic garments while passing through the water. However, the monks
persevered, greatly desiring to reach their goal, "on account of its
being the largest city in which was the University of Idolatry, where
lived the teachers who were wizards and masters of abomination." If
one may judge by the name of the place, Uilcapampa, the wizards and
sorcerers were probably aided by the powerful effects of the ancient
snuff made from huilca seeds. After a three days' journey over very
rough country, the monks arrived at their destination. Yet even then
Titu Cusi was unwilling that they should live in the city, but ordered
that the monks be given a dwelling outside, so that they might not
witness the ceremonies and ancient rites which were practiced by the
Inca and his captains and priests.

Nothing is said about the appearance of "Vilcabamba Viejo" and it
is doubtful whether the monks were ever allowed to see the city,
although they reached its vicinity. Here they stayed for three weeks
and kept up their preaching and teaching. During their stay Titu Cusi,
who had not wished to bring them here, got his revenge by annoying
them in various ways. He was particularly anxious to make them break
their vows of celibacy. Calancha says that after consultation with
his priests and soothsayers Titu Cusi selected as tempters the most
beautiful Indian women, including some individuals of the Yungas who
were unusually attractive. It is possible that these women, who lived
at the "University of Idolatry" in "Vilcabamba Viejo," were "Virgins of
the Sun," who were under the orders of the Inca and his high priests
and were selected from the fairest daughters of the empire. It is
also evident that "Vilcabamba Viejo" was so constructed that the
monks could be kept for three weeks in its vicinity without being
able to see what was going on in the city or to describe the kinds of
"abominations" which were practiced there, as they did those at the
white rock of Chuquipalta. As will be shown later, it is possible
that this Vilcabamba, referred to in Calancha's story as "Vilcabamba
Viejo," was on the slopes of the mountain now called Machu Picchu.

In the meantime it was necessary to pursue the hunt for the ruins
of Vilcabamba called "the old" by Ocampo, to distinguish it from
the Spanish town of that name which he had helped to found after
the capture of Tupac Amaru, and referred to merely as Vilcabamba by
Captain Garcia and his companions in their accounts of the campaign.



When Don Pedro Duque of Santa Aria was helping us to identify places
mentioned in Calancha and Ocampo, the references to "Vilcabamba Viejo,"
or Old Uilcapampa, were supposed by two of his informants to point
to a place called Conservidayoc. Don Pedro told us that in 1902 Lopez
Torres, who had traveled much in the montaña looking for rubber trees,
reported the discovery there of the ruins of an Inca city. All of Don
Pedro's friends assured us that Conservidayoc was a terrible place
to reach. "No one now living had been there." "It was inhabited by
savage Indians who would not let strangers enter their villages."

When we reached Paltaybamba, Señor Pancorbo's manager confirmed what
we had heard. He said further that an individual named Saavedra lived
at Conservidayoc and undoubtedly knew all about the ruins, but was
very averse to receiving visitors. Saavedra's house was extremely
difficult to find. "No one had been there recently and returned
alive." Opinions differed as to how far away it was.

Several days later, while Professor Foote and I were studying the ruins
near Rosaspata, Señor Pancorbo, returning from his rubber estate in
the San Miguel Valley and learning at Lucma of our presence near by,
took great pains to find us and see how we were progressing. When he
learned of our intention to search for the ruins of Conservidayoc,
he asked us to desist from the attempt. He said Saavedra was "a very
powerful man having many Indians under his control and living in
grand state, with fifty servants, and not at all desirous of being
visited by anybody." The Indians were "of the Campa tribe, very wild
and extremely savage. They use poisoned arrows and are very hostile
to strangers." Admitting that he had heard there were Inca ruins near
Saavedra's station, Señor Pancorbo still begged us not to risk our
lives by going to look for them.

By this time our curiosity was thoroughly aroused. We were familiar
with the current stories regarding the habits of savage tribes who
lived in the montaña and whose services were in great demand as rubber
gatherers. We had even heard that Indians did not particularly like
to work for Señor Pancorbo, who was an energetic, ambitious man,
anxious to achieve many things, results which required more laborers
than could easily be obtained. We could readily believe there might
possibly be Indians at Conservidayoc who had escaped from the rubber
estate of San Miguel. Undoubtedly, Señor Pancorbo's own life would
have been at the mercy of their poisoned arrows. All over the Amazon
Basin the exigencies of rubber gatherers had caused tribes visited
with impunity by the explorers of the nineteenth century to become so
savage and revengeful as to lead them to kill all white men at sight.

Professor Foote and I considered the matter in all its aspects. We
finally came to the conclusion that in view of the specific reports
regarding the presence of Inca ruins at Conservidayoc we could not
afford to follow the advice of the friendly planter. We must at least
make an effort to reach them, meanwhile taking every precaution to
avoid arousing the enmity of the powerful Saavedra and his savage


Quispi Cusi Testifying about Inca Ruins


One of our Bearers Crossing the Pampaconas River

On the day following our arrival at the town of Vilcabamba, the
gobernador, Condoré, taking counsel with his chief assistant, had
summoned the wisest Indians living in the vicinity, including a
very picturesque old fellow whose name, Quispi Cusi, was strongly
reminiscent of the days of Titu Cusi. It was explained to him
that this was a very solemn occasion and that an official inquiry
was in progress. He took off his hat--but not his knitted cap--and
endeavored to the best of his ability to answer our questions about
the surrounding country. It was he who said that the Inca Tupac
Amaru once lived at Rosaspata. He had never heard of Uilcapampa
Viejo, but he admitted that there were ruins in the montaña near
Conservidayoc. Other Indians were questioned by Condoré. Several had
heard of the ruins of Conservidayoc, but, apparently, none of them,
nor any one in the village, had actually seen the ruins or visited
their immediate vicinity. They all agreed that Saavedra's place was
"at least four days' hard journey on foot in the montaña beyond
Pampaconas." No village of that name appeared on any map of Peru,
although it is frequently mentioned in the documents of the sixteenth
century. Rodriguez de Figueroa, who came to seek an audience with
Titu Cusi about 1565, says that he met Titu Cusi at a place called
Banbaconas. He says further that the Inca came there from somewhere
down in the dense forests of the montaña and presented him with a
macaw and two hampers of peanuts--products of a warm region.

We had brought with us the large sheets of Raimondi's invaluable map
which covered this locality. We also had the new map of South Peru and
North Bolivia which had just been published by the Royal Geographical
Society and gave a summary of all available information. The
Indians said that Conservidayoc lay in a westerly direction from
Vilcabamba, yet on Raimondi's map all of the rivers which rise in
the mountains west of the town are short affluents of the Apurimac
and flow southwest. We wondered whether the stories about ruins at
Conservidayoc would turn out to be as barren of foundation as those
we had heard from the trustworthy foreman at Huadquiña. One of our
informants said the Inca city was called Espiritu Pampa, or the "Pampa
of Ghosts." Would the ruins turn out to be "ghosts"? Would they vanish
on the arrival of white men with cameras and steel measuring tapes?

No one at Vilcabamba had seen the ruins, but they said that at
the village of Pampaconas, "about five leagues from here," there
were Indians who had actually been to Conservidayoc. Our supplies
were getting low. There were no shops nearer than Lucma; no food
was obtainable from the natives. Accordingly, notwithstanding the
protestations of the hospitable gobernador, we decided to start
immediately for Conservidayoc.

At the end of a long day's march up the Vilcabamba Valley, Professor
Foote, with his accustomed skill, was preparing the evening meal and we
were both looking forward with satisfaction to enjoying large cups of
our favorite beverage. Several years ago, when traveling on muleback
across the great plateau of southern Bolivia, I had learned the value
of sweet, hot tea as a stimulant and bracer in the high Andes. At
first astonished to see how much tea the Indian arrieros drank, I
learned from sad experience that it was far better than cold water,
which often brings on mountain-sickness. This particular evening,
one swallow of the hot tea caused consternation. It was the most
horrible stuff imaginable. Examination showed small, oily particles
floating on the surface. Further investigation led to the discovery
that one of our arrieros had that day placed our can of kerosene on
top of one of the loads. The tin became leaky and the kerosene had
dripped down into a food box. A cloth bag of granulated sugar had
eagerly absorbed all the oil it could. There was no remedy but to
throw away half of our supply. As I have said, the longer one works
in the Andes the more desirable does sugar become and the more one
seems to crave it. Yet we were unable to procure any here.

After the usual delays, caused in part by the difficulty of catching
our mules, which had taken advantage of our historical investigations
to stray far up the mountain pastures, we finally set out from the
boundaries of known topography, headed for "Conservidayoc," a vague
place surrounded with mystery; a land of hostile savages, albeit said
to possess the ruins of an Inca town.

Our first day's journey was to Pampaconas. Here and in its vicinity the
gobernador told us he could procure guides and the half-dozen carriers
whose services we should require for the jungle trail where mules could
not be used. As the Indians hereabouts were averse to penetrating
the wilds of Conservidayoc and were also likely to be extremely
alarmed at the sight of men in uniform, the two gendarmes who were
now accompanying us were instructed to delay their departure for a few
hours and not to reach Pampaconas with our pack train until dusk. The
gobernador said that if the Indians of Pampaconas caught sight of any
brass buttons coming over the hills they would hide so effectively
that it would be impossible to secure any carriers. Apparently this
was due in part to that love of freedom which had led them to abandon
the more comfortable towns for a frontier village where landlords
could not call on them for forced labor. Consequently, before the
arrival of any such striking manifestations of official authority as
our gendarmes, the gobernador and his friend Mogrovejo proposed to
put in the day craftily commandeering the services of a half-dozen
sturdy Indians. Their methods will be described presently.

Leaving modern Vilcabamba, we crossed the flat, marshy bottom of an
old glaciated valley, in which one of our mules got thoroughly mired
while searching for the succulent grasses which cover the treacherous
bog. Fording the Vilcabamba River, which here is only a tiny brook,
we climbed out of the valley and turned westward. On the mountains
above us were vestiges of several abandoned mines. It was their
discovery in 1572 or thereabouts which brought Ocampo and the first
Spanish settlers to this valley. Raimondi says that he found here
cobalt, nickel, silver-bearing copper ore, and lead sulphide. He
does not mention any gold-bearing quartz. It may have been exhausted
long before his day. As to the other minerals, the difficulties of
transportation are so great that it is not likely that mining will
be renewed here for many years to come.

At the top of the pass we turned to look back and saw a long chain
of snow-capped mountains towering above and behind the town of
Vilcabamba. We searched in vain for them on our maps. Raimondi,
followed by the Royal Geographical Society, did not leave room
enough for such a range to exist between the rivers Apurimac and
Urubamba. Mr. Hendriksen determined our longitude to be 73° west,
and our latitude to be 13° 8' south. Yet according to the latest map
of this region, published in the preceding year, this was the very
position of the river Apurimac itself, near its junction with the river
Pampas. We ought to have been swimming "the Great Speaker." Actually
we were on top of a lofty mountain pass surrounded by high peaks and
glaciers. The mystery was finally solved by Mr. Bumstead in 1912, when
he determined the Apurimac and the Urubamba to be thirty miles farther
apart than any one had supposed. His surveys opened an unexplored
region, 1500 square miles in extent, whose very existence had not been
guessed before 1911. It proved to be one of the largest undescribed
glaciated areas in South America. Yet it is less than a hundred miles
from Cuzco, the chief city in the Peruvian Andes, and the site of a
university for more than three centuries. That Uilcapampa could so
long defy investigation and exploration shows better than anything
else how wisely Manco had selected his refuge. It is indeed a veritable
labyrinth of snow-clad peaks, unknown glaciers, and trackless canyons.

Looking west, we saw in front of us a great wilderness of deep green
valleys and forest-clad slopes. We supposed from our maps that we were
now looking down into the basin of the Apurimac. As a matter of fact,
we were on the rim of the valley of the hitherto uncharted Pampaconas,
a branch of the Cosireni, one of the affluents of the Urubamba. Instead
of being the Apurimac Basin, what we saw was another unexplored region
which drained into the Urubamba!

At the time, however, we did not know where we were, but understood
from Condoré that somewhere far down in the montaña below us was
Conservidayoc, the sequestered domain of Saavedra and his savage
Indians. It seemed less likely than ever that the Incas could have
built a town so far away from the climate and food to which they were
accustomed. The "road" was now so bad that only with the greatest
difficulty could we coax our sure-footed mules to follow it. Once we
had to dismount, as the path led down a long, steep, rocky stairway
of ancient origin. At last, rounding a hill, we came in sight of a
lonesome little hut perched on a shoulder of the mountain. In front of
it, seated in the sun on mats, were two women shelling corn. As soon as
they saw the gobernador approaching, they stopped their work and began
to prepare lunch. It was about eleven o'clock and they did not need to
be told that Señor Condoré and his friends had not had anything but a
cup of coffee since the night before. In order to meet the emergency
of unexpected guests they killed four or five squealing cuys (guinea
pigs), usually to be found scurrying about the mud floor of the huts
of mountain Indians. Before long the savory odor of roast cuy, well
basted, and cooked-to-a-turn on primitive spits, whetted our appetites.

In the eastern United States one sees guinea pigs only as pets or
laboratory victims; never as an article of food. In spite of the
celebrated dogma that "Pigs is Pigs," this form of "pork" has never
found its way to our kitchens, even though these "pigs" live on a
very clean, vegetable diet. Incidentally guinea pigs do not come
from Guinea and are in no way related to pigs--Mr. Ellis Parker
Butler to the contrary notwithstanding! They belong rather to the
same family as rabbits and Belgian hares and have long been a highly
prized article of food in the Andes of Peru. The wild species are
of a grayish brown color, which enables them to escape observation
in their natural habitat. The domestic varieties, which one sees
in the huts of the Indians, are piebald, black, white, and tawny,
varying from one another in color as much as do the llamas, which
were also domesticated by the same race of people thousands of years
ago. Although Anglo-Saxon "folkways," as Professor Sumner would say,
permit us to eat and enjoy long-eared rabbits, we draw the line at
short-eared rabbits, yet they were bred to be eaten.

I am willing to admit that this was the first time that I had ever
knowingly tasted their delicate flesh, although once in the capital
of Bolivia I thought the hotel kitchen had a diminishing supply! Had
I not been very hungry, I might never have known how delicious a roast
guinea pig can be. The meat is not unlike squab. To the Indians whose
supply of animal food is small, whose fowls are treasured for their
eggs, and whose thin sheep are more valuable as wool bearers than as
mutton, the succulent guinea pig, "most prolific of mammals," as was
discovered by Mr. Butler's hero, is a highly valued article of food,
reserved for special occasions. The North American housewife keeps a
few tins of sardines and cans of preserves on hand for emergencies. Her
sister in the Andes similarly relies on fat little cuys.

After lunch, Condoré and Mogrovejo divided the extensive rolling
countryside between them and each rode quietly from one lonesome farm
to another, looking for men to engage as bearers. When they were
so fortunate as to find the man of the house at home or working in
his little chacra they greeted him pleasantly. When he came forward
to shake hands, in the usual Indian manner, a silver dollar was
un-suspectingly slipped into the palm of his right hand and he was
informed that he had accepted pay for services which must now be
performed. It seemed hard, but this was the only way in which it was
possible to secure carriers.

During Inca times the Indians never received pay for their labor. A
paternal government saw to it that they were properly fed and clothed
and either given abundant opportunity to provide for their own
necessities or else permitted to draw on official stores. In colonial
days a more greedy and less paternal government took advantage of
the ancient system and enforced it without taking pains to see that
it should not cause suffering. Then, for generations, thoughtless
landlords, backed by local authority, forced the Indians to work
without suitably recompensing them at the end of their labors or
even pretending to carry out promises and wage agreements. The peons
learned that it was unwise to perform any labor without first having
received a considerable portion of their pay. When once they accepted
money, however, their own custom and the law of the land provided
that they must carry out their obligations. Failure to do so meant
legal punishment.

Consequently, when an unfortunate Pampaconas Indian found he had a
dollar in his hand, he bemoaned his fate, but realized that service
was inevitable. In vain did he plead that he was "busy," that his
"crops needed attention," that his "family could not spare him," that
"he lacked food for a journey." Condoré and Mogrovejo were accustomed
to all varieties of excuses. They succeeded in "engaging" half a dozen
carriers. Before dark we reached the village of Pampaconas, a few small
huts scattered over grassy hillsides, at an elevation of 10,000 feet.

In the notes of one of the military advisers of Viceroy Francisco de
Toledo is a reference to Pampaconas as a "high, cold place." This
is correct. Nevertheless, I doubt if the present village is the
Pampaconas mentioned in the documents of Garcia's day as being "an
important town of the Incas." There are no ruins hereabouts. The huts
of Pampaconas were newly built of stone and mud, and thatched with
grass. They were occupied by a group of sturdy mountain Indians,
who enjoyed unusual freedom from official or other interference
and a good place in which to raise sheep and cultivate potatoes,
on the very edge of the dense forest. We found that there was some
excitement in the village because on the previous night a jaguar,
or possibly a cougar, had come out of the forest, attacked, killed,
and dragged off one of the village ponies.

We were conducted to the dwelling of a stocky, well-built Indian named
Guzman, the most reliable man in the village, who had been selected
to be the head of the party of carriers that was to accompany us to
Conservidayoc. Guzman had some Spanish blood in his veins, although
he did not boast of it. With his wife and six children he occupied
one of the best huts. A fire in one corner frequently filled it with
acrid smoke. It was very small and had no windows. At one end was a
loft where family treasures could be kept dry and reasonably safe from
molestation. Piles of sheep skins were arranged for visitors to sit
upon. Three or four rude niches in the walls served in lieu of shelves
and tables. The floor of well-trodden clay was damp. Three mongrel
dogs and a flea-bitten cat were welcome to share the narrow space
with the family and their visitors. A dozen hogs entered stealthily
and tried to avoid attention by putting a muffler on involuntary
grunts. They did not succeed and were violently ejected by a boy with
a whip; only to return again and again, each time to be driven out
as before, squealing loudly. Notwithstanding these interruptions,
we carried on a most interesting conversation with Guzman. He had
been to Conservidayoc and had himself actually seen ruins at Espiritu
Pampa. At last the mythical "Pampa of Ghosts" began to take on in
our minds an aspect of reality, even though we were careful to remind
ourselves that another very trustworthy man had said he had seen ruins
"finer than Ollantaytambo" near Huadquiña. Guzman did not seem to dread
Conservidayoc as much as the other Indians, only one of whom had ever
been there. To cheer them up we purchased a fat sheep, for which we
paid fifty cents. Guzman immediately butchered it in preparation for
the journey. Although it was August and the middle of the dry season,
rain began to fall early in the afternoon. Sergeant Carrasco arrived
after dark with our pack animals, but, missing the trail as he neared
Guzman's place, one of the mules stepped into a bog and was extracted
only with considerable difficulty.

We decided to pitch our small pyramidal tent on a fairly well-drained
bit of turf not far from Guzman's little hut. In the evening, after
we had had a long talk with the Indians, we came back through the
rain to our comfortable little tent, only to hear various and sundry
grunts emerging therefrom. We found that during our absence a large
sow and six fat young pigs, unable to settle down comfortably at the
Guzman hearth, had decided that our tent was much the driest available
place on the mountain side and that our blankets made a particularly
attractive bed. They had considerable difficulty in getting out of
the small door as fast as they wished. Nevertheless, the pouring rain
and the memory of comfortable blankets caused the pigs to return
at intervals. As we were starting to enjoy our first nap, Guzman,
with hospitable intent, sent us two bowls of steaming soup, which at
first glance seemed to contain various sizes of white macaroni--a dish
of which one of us was particularly fond. The white hollow cylinders
proved to be extraordinarily tough, not the usual kind of macaroni. As
a matter of fact, we learned that the evening meal which Guzman's
wife had prepared for her guests was made chiefly of sheep's entrails!

Rain continued without intermission during the whole of a very
cold and dreary night. Our tent, which had never been wet before,
leaked badly; the only part which seemed to be thoroughly waterproof
was the floor. As day dawned we found ourselves to be lying in
puddles of water. Everything was soaked. Furthermore, rain was still
failing. While we were discussing the situation and wondering what
we should cook for breakfast, the faithful Guzman heard our voices
and immediately sent us two more bowls of hot soup, which were this
time more welcome, even though among the bountiful corn, beans, and
potatoes we came unexpectedly upon fragments of the teeth and jaws
of the sheep. Evidently in Pampaconas nothing is wasted.

We were anxious to make an early start for Conservidayoc, but it was
first necessary for our Indians to prepare food for the ten days'
journey ahead of them. Guzman's wife, and I suppose the wives of our
other carriers, spent the morning grinding chuño (frozen potatoes)
with a rocking stone pestle on a flat stone mortar, and parching or
toasting large quantities of sweet corn in a terra-cotta olla. With
chuño and tostado, the body of the sheep, and a small quantity of coca
leaves, the Indians professed themselves to be perfectly contented. Of
our own provisions we had so small a quantity that we were unable
to spare any. However, it is doubtful whether the Indians would have
liked them as much as the food to which they had long been accustomed.

Toward noon, all the Indian carriers but one having arrived, and the
rain having partly subsided, we started for Conservidayoc. We were told
that it would be possible to use the mules for this day's journey. San
Fernando, our first stop, was "seven leagues" away, far down in the
densely wooded Pampaconas Valley. Leaving the village we climbed up the
mountain back of Guzman's hut and followed a faint trail by a dangerous
and precarious route along the crest of the ridge. The rains had not
improved the path. Our saddle mules were of little use. We had to
go nearly all the way on foot. Owing to cold rain and mist we could
see but little of the deep canyon which opened below us, and into
which we now began to descend through the clouds by a very steep,
zigzag path, four thousand feet to a hot tropical valley. Below the
clouds we found ourselves near a small abandoned clearing. Passing
this and fording little streams, we went along a very narrow path,
across steep slopes, on which maize had been planted. Finally we
came to another little clearing and two extremely primitive little
shanties, mere shelters not deserving to be called huts; and this
was San Fernando, the end of the mule trail. There was scarcely room
enough in them for our six carriers. It was with great difficulty we
found and cleared a place for our tent, although its floor was only
seven feet square. There was no really flat land at all.

At 8:30 P.M. August 13, 1911, while lying on the ground in our tent,
I noticed an earthquake. It was felt also by the Indians in the
near-by shelter, who from force of habit rushed out of their frail
structure and made a great disturbance, crying out that there was a
temblor. Even had their little thatched roof fallen upon them, as it
might have done during the stormy night which followed, they were in
no danger; but, being accustomed to the stone walls and red tiled roofs
of mountain villages where earthquakes sometimes do very serious harm,
they were greatly excited. The motion seemed to me to be like a slight
shuffle from west to east, lasting three or four seconds, a gentle
rocking back and forth, with eight or ten vibrations. Several weeks
later, near Huadquiña, we happened to stop at the Colpani telegraph
office. The operator said he had felt two shocks on August 13th--one
at five o'clock, which had shaken the books off his table and knocked
over a box of insulators standing along a wall which ran north and
south. He said the shock which I had felt was the lighter of the two.

During the night it rained hard, but our tent was now adjusting itself
to the "dry season" and we were more comfortable. Furthermore, camping
out at 10,000 feet above sea level is very different from camping
at 6000 feet. This elevation, similar to that of the bridge of San
Miguel, below Machu Picchu, is on the lower edge of the temperate
zone and the beginning of the torrid tropics. Sugar cane, peppers,
bananas, and grenadillas grow here as well as maize, squashes, and
sweet potatoes. None of these things will grow at Pampaconas. The
Indians who raise sheep and white potatoes in that cold region come
to San Fernando to make chacras or small clearings. The three or
four natives whom we found here were so alarmed by the sight of
brass buttons that they disappeared during the night rather than
take the chance of having a silver dollar pressed into their hands
in the morning! From San Fernando, we sent one of our gendarmes back
to Pampaconas with the mules. Our carriers were good for about fifty
pounds apiece.

Half an hour's walk brought us to Vista Alegre, another little clearing
on an alluvial fan in the bend of the river. The soil here seemed to be
very rich. In the chacra we saw corn stalks eighteen feet in height,
near a gigantic tree almost completely enveloped in the embrace of
a mato-palo, or parasitic fig tree. This clearing certainly deserves
its name, for it commands a "charming view" of the green Pampaconas
Valley. Opposite us rose abruptly a heavily forested mountain,
whose summit was lost in the clouds a mile above. To circumvent
this mountain the river had been flowing in a westerly direction;
now it gradually turned to the northward. Again we were mystified;
for, by Raimondi's map, it should have gone southward.

We entered a dense jungle, where the narrow path became more and more
difficult for our carriers. Crawling over rocks, under branches, along
slippery little cliffs, on steps which had been cut in earth or rock,
over a trail which not even dogs could follow unassisted, slowly we
made our way down the valley. Owing to the heat, humidity, and the
frequent showers, it was mid-afternoon before we reached another little
clearing called Pacaypata. Here, on a hillside nearly a thousand feet
above the river, our men decided to spend the night in a tiny little
shelter six feet long and five feet wide. Professor Foote and I had
to dig a shelf out of the steep hillside in order to pitch our tent.

The next morning, not being detained by the vagaries of a mule train,
we made an early start. As we followed the faint little trail across
the gulches tributary to the river Pampaconas, we had to negotiate
several unusually steep descents and ascents. The bearers suffered
from the heat. They found it more and more difficult to carry their
loads. Twice we had to cross the rapids of the river on primitive
bridges which consisted only of a few little logs lashed together
and resting on slippery boulders.

By one o'clock we found ourselves on a small plain (ele. 4500 ft.) in
dense woods surrounded by tree ferns, vines, and tangled thickets,
through which it was impossible to see for more than a few feet. Here
Guzman told us we must stop and rest a while, as we were now in the
territory of los salvajes, the savage Indians who acknowledged only the
rule of Saavedra and resented all intrusion. Guzman did not seem to be
particularly afraid, but said that we ought to send ahead one of our
carriers, to warn the savages that we were coming on a friendly mission
and were not in search of rubber gatherers; otherwise they might attack
us, or run away and disappear into the jungle. He said we should never
be able to find the ruins without their help. The carrier who was
selected to go ahead did not relish his task. Leaving his pack behind,
he proceeded very quietly and cautiously along the trail and was lost
to view almost immediately. There followed an exciting half-hour while
we waited, wondering what attitude the savages would take toward us,
and trying to picture to ourselves the mighty potentate, Saavedra,
who had been described as sitting in the midst of savage luxury,
"surrounded by fifty servants," and directing his myrmidons to
checkmate our desires to visit the Inca city on the "pampa of ghosts."

Suddenly, we were startled by the crackling of twigs and the sound
of a man running. We instinctively held our rifles a little tighter
in readiness for whatever might befall--when there burst out of the
woods a pleasant-faced young Peruvian, quite conventionally clad,
who had come in haste from Saavedra, his father, to extend to us
a most cordial welcome! It seemed scarcely credible, but a glance
at his face showed that there was no ambush in store for us. It was
with a sigh of relief that we realized there was to be no shower of
poisoned arrows from the impenetrable thickets. Gathering up our packs,
we continued along the jungle trail, through woods which gradually
became higher, deeper, and darker, until presently we saw sunlight
ahead and, to our intense astonishment, the bright green of waving
sugar cane. A few moments of walking through the cane fields found
us at a large comfortable hut, welcomed very simply and modestly by
Saavedra himself. A more pleasant and peaceable little man it was
never my good fortune to meet. We looked furtively around for his
fifty savage servants, but all we saw was his good-natured Indian
wife, three or four small children, and a wild-eyed maid-of-all-work,
evidently the only savage present. Saavedra said some called this place
"Jesús Maria" because they were so surprised when they saw it.

It is difficult to describe our feelings as we accepted Saavedra's
invitation to make ourselves at home, and sat down to an abundant meal
of boiled chicken, rice, and sweet cassava (manioc). Saavedra gave us
to understand that we were not only most welcome to anything he had,
but that he would do everything to enable us to see the ruins, which
were, it seemed, at Espiritu Pampa, some distance farther down the
valley, to be reached only by a hard trail passable for barefooted
savages, but scarcely available for us unless we chose to go a
good part of the distance on hands and knees. The next day, while
our carriers were engaged in clearing this trail, Professor Foote
collected a large number of insects, including eight new species of
moths and butterflies.

I inspected Saavedra's plantation. The soil having lain fallow for
centuries, and being rich in humus, had produced more sugar cane than
he could grind. In addition to this, he had bananas, coffee trees,
sweet potatoes, tobacco, and peanuts. Instead of being "a very powerful
chief having many Indians under his control"--a kind of "Pooh-Bah"--he
was merely a pioneer. In the utter wilderness, far from any neighbors,
surrounded by dense forests and a few savages, he had established
his home. He was not an Indian potentate, but only a frontiersman,
soft-spoken and energetic, an ingenious carpenter and mechanic,
a modest Peruvian of the best type.

Owing to the scarcity of arable land he was obliged to cultivate
such pampas as he could find--one an alluvial fan near his house,
another a natural terrace near the river. Back of the house was
a thatched shelter under which he had constructed a little sugar
mill. It had a pair of hardwood rollers, each capable of being turned,
with much creaking and cracking, by a large, rustic wheel made of
roughly hewn timbers fastened together with wooden pins and lashed
with thongs, worked by hand and foot power. Since Saavedra had been
unable to coax any pack animals over the trail to Conservidayoc he
was obliged to depend entirely on his own limited strength and that
of his active son, aided by the uncertain and irregular services of
such savages as wished to work for sugar, trinkets, or other trade
articles. Sometimes the savages seemed to enjoy the fun of climbing
on the great creaking treadwheel, as though it were a game. At other
times they would disappear in the woods.

Near the mill were some interesting large pots which Saavedra was using
in the process of boiling the juice and making crude sugar. He said he
had found the pots in the jungle not far away. They had been made by
the Incas. Four of them were of the familiar aryballus type. Another
was of a closely related form, having a wide mouth, pointed base,
single incised, conventionalized, animal-head nubbin attached to the
shoulder, and band-shaped handles attached vertically below the median
line. Although capable of holding more than ten gallons, this huge
pot was intended to be carried on the back and shoulders by means of a
rope passing through the handles and around the nubbin. Saavedra said
that he had found near his house several bottle-shaped cists lined
with stones, with a flat stone on top--evidently ancient graves. The
bones had entirely disappeared. The cover of one of the graves had
been pierced; the hole covered with a thin sheet of beaten silver. He
had also found a few stone implements and two or three small bronze
Inca axes.

On the pampa, below his house, Saavedra had constructed with infinite
labor another sugar mill. It seemed strange that he should have taken
the trouble to make two mills; but when one remembered that he had no
pack animals and was usually obliged to bring the cane to the mill on
his own back and the back of his son, one realized that it was easier,
while the cane was growing, to construct a new mill near the cane
field than to have to carry the heavy bundles of ripe cane up the
hill. He said his hardest task was to get money with which to send
his children to school in Cuzco and to pay his taxes. The only way in
which he could get any cash was by making chancaca, crude brown sugar,
and carrying it on his back, fifty pounds at a time, three hard days'
journey on foot up the mountain to Pampaconas or Vilcabamba, six or
seven thousand feet above his little plantation. He said he could
usually sell such a load for five soles, equivalent to two dollars
and a half! His was certainly a hard lot, but he did not complain,
although he smilingly admitted that it was very difficult to keep
the trail open, since the jungle grew so fast and the floods in the
river continually washed away his little rustic bridges. His chief
regret was that as the result of a recent revolution, with which he
had had nothing to do, the government had decreed that all firearms
should be turned in, and so he had lost the one thing he needed to
enable him to get fresh meat in the forest.


Saavedra and his Inca Pottery


Inca Gable at Espiritu Pampa

In the clearing near the house we were interested to see a large
turkey-like bird, the pava de la montaña, glossy black, its most
striking feature a high, coral red comb. Although completely at
liberty, it seemed to be thoroughly domesticated. It would make an
attractive bird for introduction into our Southern States.

Saavedra gave us some very black leaves of native tobacco, which he
had cured. An inveterate smoker who tried it in his pipe said it was
without exception the strongest stuff he ever had encountered!

So interested did I become in talking with Saavedra, seeing his
plantation, and marveling that he should be worried about taxes and
have to obey regulations in regard to firearms, I had almost forgotten
about the wild Indians. Suddenly our carriers ran toward the house
in a great flurry of excitement, shouting that there was a "savage"
in the bushes near by. The "wild man" was very timid, but curiosity
finally got the better of fear and he summoned up sufficient courage
to accept Saavedra's urgent invitation that he come out and meet
us. He proved to be a miserable specimen, suffering from a very bad
cold in his head. It has been my good fortune at one time or another
to meet primitive folk in various parts of America and the Pacific,
but this man was by far the dirtiest and most wretched savage that
I have ever seen.

He was dressed in a long, filthy tunic which came nearly to his
ankles. It was made of a large square of coarsely woven cotton cloth,
with a hole in the middle for his head. The sides were stitched up,
leaving holes for the arms. His hair was long, unkempt, and matted. He
had small, deep-set eyes, cadaverous cheeks, thick lips, and a large
mouth. His big toes were unusually long and prehensile. Slung over one
shoulder he carried a small knapsack made of coarse fiber net. Around
his neck hung what at first sight seemed to be a necklace composed
of a dozen stout cords securely knotted together. Although I did not
see it in use, I was given to understand that when climbing trees,
he used this stout loop to fasten his ankles together and thus secure
a tighter grip for his feet.

By evening two other savages had come in; a young married man and
his little sister. Both had bad colds. Saavedra told us that these
Indians were Pichanguerras, a subdivision of the Campa tribe. Saavedra
and his son spoke a little of their language, which sounded to our
unaccustomed ears like a succession of low grunts, breathings, and
gutturals. It was pieced out by signs. The long tunics worn by the
men indicated that they had one or more wives. Before marrying they
wear very scanty attire--nothing more than a few rags hanging over one
shoulder and tied about the waist. The long tunic, a comfortable enough
garment to wear during the cold nights, and their only covering, must
impede their progress in the jungle; yet they live partly by hunting,
using bows and arrows. We learned that these Pichanguerras had run
away from the rubber country in the lower valleys; that they found it
uncomfortably cold at this altitude, 4500 feet, but preferred freedom
in the higher valleys to serfdom on a rubber estate.

Saavedra said that he had named his plantation Conservidayoc, because
it was in truth "a spot where one may be preserved from harm." Such
was the home of the potentate from whose abode "no one had been known
to return alive."


The Pampa of Ghosts

Two days later we left Conservidayoc for Espiritu Pampa by the trail
which Saavedra's son and our Pampaconas Indians had been clearing. We
emerged from the thickets near a promontory where there was a fine
view down the valley and particularly of a heavily wooded alluvial fan
just below us. In it were two or three small clearings and the little
oval huts of the savages of Espiritu Pampa, the "Pampa of Ghosts."

On top of the promontory was the ruin of a small, rectangular building
of rough stone, once probably an Inca watch-tower. From here to
Espiritu Pampa our trail followed an ancient stone stairway, about
four feet in width and nearly a third of a mile long. It was built of
uncut stones. Possibly it was the work of those soldiers whose chief
duty it was to watch from the top of the promontory and who used their
spare time making roads. We arrived at the principal clearing just as
a heavy thunder-shower began. The huts were empty. Obviously their
occupants had seen us coming and had disappeared in the jungle. We
hesitated to enter the home of a savage without an invitation, but the
terrific downpour overcame our scruples, if not our nervousness. The
hut had a steeply pitched roof. Its sides were made of small logs
driven endwise into the ground and fastened together with vines. A
small fire had been burning on the ground. Near the embers were two
old black ollas of Inca origin.

In the little chacra, cassava, coca, and sweet potatoes were growing in
haphazard fashion among charred and fallen tree trunks; a typical milpa
farm. In the clearing were the ruins of eighteen or twenty circular
houses arranged in an irregular group. We wondered if this could be the
"Inca city" which Lopez Torres had reported. Among the ruins we picked
up several fragments of Inca pottery. There was nothing Incaic about
the buildings. One was rectangular and one was spade-shaped, but all
the rest were round. The buildings varied in diameter from fifteen to
twenty feet. Each had but a single opening. The walls had tumbled down,
but gave no evidence of careful construction. Not far away, in woods
which had not yet been cleared by the savages, we found other circular
walls. They were still standing to a height of about four feet. If
the savages have extended their milpa clearings since our visit, the
falling trees have probably spoiled these walls by now. The ancient
village probably belonged to a tribe which acknowledged allegiance to
the Incas, but the architecture of the buildings gave no indication
of their having been constructed by the Incas themselves. We began
to wonder whether the "Pampa of Ghosts" really had anything important
in store for us. Undoubtedly this alluvial fan had been highly prized
in this country of terribly steep hills. It must have been inhabited,
off and on, for many centuries. Yet this was not an "Inca city."

While we were wondering whether the Incas themselves ever lived here,
there suddenly appeared the naked figure of a sturdy young savage,
armed with a stout bow and long arrows, and wearing a fillet of
bamboo. He had been hunting and showed us a bird he had shot. Soon
afterwards there came the two adult savages we had met at Saavedra's,
accompanied by a cross-eyed friend, all wearing long tunics. They
offered to guide us to other ruins. It was very difficult for us to
follow their rapid pace. Half an hour's scramble through the jungle
brought us to a pampa or natural terrace on the banks of a little
tributary of the Pampaconas. They called it Eromboni. Here we found
several old artificial terraces and the rough foundations of a long,
rectangular building 192 feet by 24 feet. It might have had twenty-four
doors, twelve in front and twelve in back, each three and a half
feet wide. No lintels were in evidence. The walls were only a foot
high. There was very little building material in sight. Apparently
the structure had never been completed. Near by was a typical Inca
fountain with three stone spouts, or conduits. Two hundred yards
beyond the water-carrier's rendezvous, hidden behind a curtain of
hanging vines and thickets so dense we could not see more than a few
feet in any direction, the savages showed us the ruins of a group of
stone houses whose walls were still standing in fine condition.


Ruins in the Jungles of Espiritu Pampa

One of the buildings was rounded at one end. Another, standing by
itself at the south end of a little pampa, had neither doors nor
windows. It was rectangular. Its four or five niches were arranged
with unique irregularity. Furthermore, they were two feet deep, an
unusual dimension. Probably this was a storehouse. On the east side
of the pampa was a structure, 120 feet long by 21 feet wide, divided
into five rooms of unequal size. The walls were of rough stones
laid in adobe. Like some of the Inca buildings at Ollantaytambo,
the lintels of the doors were made of three or four narrow uncut
ashlars. Some rooms had niches. On the north side of the pampa
was another rectangular building. On the west side was the edge of
a stone-faced terrace. Below it was a partly enclosed fountain or
bathhouse, with a stone spout and a stone-lined basin. The shapes of
the houses, their general arrangement, the niches, stone roof-pegs
and lintels, all point to Inca builders. In the buildings we picked
up several fragments of Inca pottery.

Equally interesting and very puzzling were half a dozen crude Spanish
roofing tiles, baked red. All the pieces and fragments we could find
would not have covered four square feet. They were of widely different
sizes, as though some one had been experimenting. Perhaps an Inca who
had seen the new red tiled roofs of Cuzco had tried to reproduce them
here in the jungle, but without success.

At dusk we all returned to Espiritu Pampa. Our faces, hands,
and clothes had been torn by the jungle; our feet were weary and
sore. Nevertheless the day's work had been very satisfactory and
we prepared to enjoy a good night's rest. Alas, we were doomed to
disappointment. During the day some one had brought to the hut eight
tame but noisy macaws. Furthermore, our savage helpers determined
to make the night hideous with cries, tom-toms, and drums, either to
discourage the visits of hostile Indians or jaguars, or for the purpose
of exorcising the demons brought by the white men, or else to cheer
up their families, who were undoubtedly hiding in the jungle near by.

The next day the savages and our carriers continued to clear away as
much as possible of the tangled growth near the best ruins. In this
process, to the intense surprise not only of ourselves, but also of
the savages, they discovered, just below the "bathhouse" where we had
stood the day before, the well-preserved ruins of two buildings of
superior construction, well fitted with stone-pegs and numerous niches,
very symmetrically arranged. These houses stood by themselves on a
little artificial terrace. Fragments of characteristic Inca pottery
were found on the floor, including pieces of a large aryballus.

Nothing gives a better idea of the density of the jungle than the
fact that the savages themselves had often been within five feet of
these fine walls without being aware of their existence.

Encouraged by this important discovery of the most characteristic
Inca ruins found in the valley, we continued the search, but all that
any one was able to find was a carefully built stone bridge over a
brook. Saavedra's son questioned the savages carefully. They said
they knew of no other antiquities. Who built the stone buildings of
Espiritu Pampa and Eromboni Pampa? Was this the "Vilcabamba Viejo"
of Father Calancha, that "University of Idolatry where lived the
teachers who were wizards and masters of abomination," the place to
which Friar Marcos and Friar Diego went with so much suffering? Was
there formerly on this trail a place called Ungacacha where the
monks had to wade, and amused Titu Cusi by the way they handled their
monastic robes in the water? They called it a "three days' journey
over rough country." Another reference in Father Calancha speaks
of Puquiura as being "two long days' journey from Vilcabamba." It
took us five days to go from Espiritu Pampa to Pucyura, although
Indians, unencumbered by burdens, and spurred on by necessity,
might do it in three. It is possible to fit some other details of
the story into this locality, although there is no place on the road
called Ungacacha. Nevertheless it does not seem to me reasonable to
suppose that the priests and Virgins of the Sun (the personnel of the
"University of Idolatry") who fled from cold Cuzco with Manco and
were established by him somewhere in the fastnesses of Uilcapampa
would have cared to live in the hot valley of Espiritu Pampa. The
difference in climate is as great as that between Scotland and Egypt,
or New York and Havana. They would not have found in Espiritu Pampa
the food which they liked. Furthermore, they could have found the
seclusion and safety which they craved just as well in several other
parts of the province, particularly at Machu Picchu, together with a
cool, bracing climate and food-stuffs more nearly resembling those to
which they were accustomed. Finally Calancha says "Vilcabamba the Old"
was "the largest city" in the province, a term far more applicable
to Machu Picchu or even to Choqquequirau than to Espiritu Pampa.

On the other hand there seems to be no doubt that Espiritu Pampa in
the montaña does meet the requirements of the place called Vilcabamba
by the companions of Captain Garcia. They speak of it as the town
and valley to which Tupac Amaru, the last Inca, escaped after his
forces lost the "young fortress" of Uiticos. Ocampo, doubtless wishing
to emphasize the difference between it and his own metropolis, the
Spanish town of Vilcabamba, calls the refuge of Tupac "Vilcabamba
the old." Ocampo's new "Vilcabamba" was not in existence when Friar
Marcos and Friar Diego lived in this province. If Calancha wrote
his chronicles from their notes, the term "old" would not apply to
Espiritu Pampa, but to an older Vilcabamba than either of the places
known to Ocampo.

The ruins are of late Inca pattern, not of a kind which would have
required a long period to build. The unfinished building may have
been under construction during the latter part of the reign of Titu
Cusi. It was Titu Cusi's desire that Rodriguez de Figueroa should meet
him at Pampaconas. The Inca evidently came from a Vilcabamba down in
the montaña, and, as has been said, brought Rodriguez a present of a
macaw and two hampers of peanuts, articles of trade still common at
Conservidayoc. There appears to me every reason to believe that the
ruins of Espiritu Pampa are those of one of the favorite residences
of this Inca--the very Vilcabamba, in fact, where he spent his boyhood
and from which he journeyed to meet Rodriguez in 1565. [13]

In 1572, when Captain Garcia took up the pursuit of Tupac Amaru
after the victory of Vilcabamba, the Inca fled "inland toward the
valley of Sima-ponte ... to the country of the Mañaries Indians,
a warlike tribe and his friends, where balsas and canoes were posted
to save him and enable him to escape." There is now no valley in this
vicinity called Simaponte, so far as we have been able to discover. The
Mañaries Indians are said to have lived on the banks of the lower
Urubamba. In order to reach their country Tupac Amaru probably went
down the Pampaconas from Espiritu Pampa. From the "Pampa of Ghosts"
to canoe navigation would have been but a short journey. Evidently
his friends who helped him to escape were canoe-men. Captain Garcia
gives an account of the pursuit of Tupac Amaru in which he says that,
not deterred by the dangers of the jungle or the river, he constructed
five rafts on which he put some of his soldiers and, accompanying them
himself, went down the rapids, escaping death many times by swimming,
until he arrived at a place called Momori, only to find that the Inca,
learning of his approach, had gone farther into the woods. Nothing
daunted, Garcia followed him, although he and his men now had to go
on foot and barefooted, with hardly anything to eat, most of their
provisions having been lost in the river, until they finally caught
Tupac and his friends; a tragic ending to a terrible chase, hard on
the white man and fatal for the Incas.

It was with great regret that I was now unable to follow the Pampaconas
River to its junction with the Urubamba. It seemed possible that the
Pampaconas might be known as the Sirialo, or the Cori-beni, both of
which were believed by Dr. Bowman's canoe-men to rise in the mountains
of Vilcabamba. It was not, however, until the summer of 1915 that we
were able definitely to learn that the Pampaconas was really a branch
of the Cosireni. It seems likely that the Cosireni was once called the
"Sima-ponte." Whether the Comberciato is the "Momori" is hard to say.

To be the next to follow in the footsteps of Tupac Amaru and Captain
Garcia was the privilege of Messrs. Heller, Ford, and Maynard. They
found that the unpleasant features had not been exaggerated. They were
tormented by insects and great quantities of ants--a small red ant
found on tree trunks, and a large black one, about an inch in length,
frequently seen among the leaves on the ground. The bite of the red
ant caused a stinging and burning for about fifteen minutes. One of
their carriers who was bitten in the foot by a black ant suffered
intense pain for a number of hours. Not only his foot, but also
his leg and hip were affected. The savages were both fishermen and
hunters; the fish being taken with nets, the game killed with bows
and arrows. Peccaries were shot from a blind made of palm leaves a
few feet from a runway. Fishing brought rather meager results. Three
Indians fished all night and caught only one fish, a perch weighing
about four pounds.

The temperature was so high that candles could easily be tied in
knots. Excessive humidity caused all leather articles to become blue
with mould. Clouds of flies and mosquitoes increased the likelihood
of spreading communicable jungle fevers.

The river Comberciato was reached by Mr. Heller at a point not more
than a league from its junction with the Urubamba. The lower course
of the Comberciato is not considered dangerous to canoe navigation,
but the valley is much narrower than the Cosireni. The width of
the river is about 150 feet and its volume is twice that of the
Cosireni. The climate is very trying. The nights are hot. Insect
pests are numerous. Mr. Heller found that "the forest was filled with
annoying, though sting-less, bees which persisted in attempting to
roost on the countenance of any human being available." On the banks
of the Comberciato he found several families of savages. All the men
were keen hunters and fishermen. Their weapons consisted of powerful
bows made from the wood of a small palm and long arrows made of reeds
and finished with feathers arranged in a spiral.

Monkeys were abundant. Specimens of six distinct genera were found,
including the large red howler, inert and easily located by its deep,
roaring bellow which can be heard for a distance of several miles;
the giant black spider monkey, very alert, and, when frightened, fairly
flying through the branches at astonishing speed; and a woolly monkey,
black in color, and very intelligent in expression, frequently tamed
by the savages, who "enjoy having them as pets but are not averse to
eating them when food is scarce." "The flesh of monkeys is greatly
appreciated by these Indians, who preserved what they did not require
for immediate needs by drying it over the smoke of a wood fire."

On the Cosireni Mr. Maynard noticed that one of his Indian guides
carried a package, wrapped in leaves, which on being opened proved to
contain forty or fifty large hairless grubs or caterpillars. The man
finally bit their heads off and threw the bodies into a small bag,
saying that the grubs were considered a great delicacy by the savages.

The Indians we met at Espiritu Pampa closely resembled those
seen in the lower valley. All our savages were bareheaded and
barefooted. They live so much in the shelter of the jungle that hats
are not necessary. Sandals or shoes would only make it harder to
use the slippery little trails. They had seen no strangers penetrate
this valley for about ten years, and at first kept their wives and
children well secluded. Later, when Messrs. Hendriksen and Tucker
were sent here to determine the astronomical position of Espiritu
Pampa, the savages permitted Mr. Tucker to take photographs of their
families. Perhaps it is doubtful whether they knew just what he was
doing. At all events they did not run away and hide.


Campa Men at Espiritu Pampa


Campa Women and Children at Espiritu Pampa

All the men and older boys wore white fillets of bamboo. The married
men had smeared paint on their faces, and one of them was wearing the
characteristic lip ornament of the Campas. Some of the children wore
no clothing at all. Two of the wives wore long tunics like the men. One
of them had a truly savage face, daubed with paint. She wore no fillet,
had the best tunic, and wore a handsome necklace made of seeds and the
skins of small birds of brilliant plumage, a work of art which must
have cost infinite pains and the loss of not a few arrows. All the
women carried babies in little hammocks slung over the shoulder. One
little girl, not more than six years old, was carrying on her back a
child of two, in a hammock supported from her head by a tump-line. It
will be remembered that forest Indians nearly always use tump-lines
so as to allow their hands free play. One of the wives was fairer
than the others and looked as though she might have had a Spanish
ancestor. The most savage-looking of the women was very scantily clad,
wore a necklace of seeds, a white lip ornament, and a few rags tied
around her waist. All her children were naked. The children of the
woman with the handsome necklace were clothed in pieces of old tunics,
and one of them, evidently her mother's favorite, was decorated with
bird skins and a necklace made from the teeth of monkeys.

Such were the people among whom Tupac Amaru took refuge when he fled
from Vilcabamba. Whether he partook of such a delicacy as monkey
meat, which all Amazonian Indians relish, but which is not eaten by
the highlanders, may be doubted. Garcilasso speaks of Tupac Amaru's
preferring to entrust himself to the hands of the Spaniards "rather
than to perish of famine." His Indian allies lived perfectly well in
a region where monkeys abound. It is doubtful whether they would ever
have permitted Captain Garcia to capture the Inca had they been able
to furnish Tupac with such food as he was accustomed to.

At all events our investigations seem to point to the probability of
this valley having been an important part of the domain of the last
Incas. It would have been pleasant to prolong our studies, but the
carriers were anxious to return to Pampaconas. Although they did not
have to eat monkey meat, they were afraid of the savages and nervous
as to what use the latter might some day make of the powerful bows
and long arrows.

At Conservidayoc Saavedra kindly took the trouble to make some sugar
for us. He poured the syrup in oblong moulds cut in a row along the
side of a big log of hard wood. In some of the moulds his son placed
handfuls of nicely roasted peanuts. The result was a confection or
"emergency ration" which we greatly enjoyed on our return journey.

At San Fernando we met the pack mules. The next day, in the midst
of continuing torrential tropical downpours, we climbed out of
the hot valley to the cold heights of Pampaconas. We were soaked
with perspiration and drenched with rain. Snow had been falling
above the village; our teeth chattered like castanets. Professor
Foote immediately commandeered Mrs. Guzman's fire and filled our
tea kettle. It may be doubted whether a more wretched, cold, wet,
and bedraggled party ever arrived at Guzman's hut; certainly nothing
ever tasted better than that steaming hot sweet tea.


The Story of Tampu-tocco, a Lost City of the First Incas

It will be remembered that while on the search for the capital of the
last Incas we had found several groups of ruins which we could not
fit entirely into the story of Manco and his sons. The most important
of these was Machu Picchu. Many of its buildings are far older than
the ruins of Rosaspata and Espiritu Pampa. To understand just what we
may have found at Machu Picchu it is now necessary to tell the story
of a celebrated city, whose name, Tampu-tocco, was not used even at
the time of the Spanish Conquest as the cognomen of any of the Inca
towns then in existence. I must draw the reader's attention far away
from the period when Pizarro and Manco, Toledo and Tupac Amaru were
the protagonists, back to events which occurred nearly seven hundred
years before their day. The last Incas ruled in Uiticos between 1536
and 1572. The last Amautas flourished about 800 A.D.


Puma Urco, near Paccaritampu

The Amautas had been ruling the Peruvian highlands for about sixty
generations, when, as has been told in Chapter VI, invaders came
from the south and east. The Amautas had built up a wonderful
civilization. Many of the agricultural and engineering feats which
we ordinarily assign to the Incas were really achievements of the
Amautas. The last of the Amautas was Pachacuti VI, who was killed by
an arrow on the battle-field of La Raya. The historian Montesinos,
whose work on the antiquities of Peru has recently been translated
for the Hakluyt Society by Mr. P. A. Means, of Harvard University,
tells us that the followers of Pachacuti VI fled with his body to
"Tampu-tocco." This, says the historian, was "a healthy place" where
there was a cave in which they hid the Amauta's body. Cuzco, the
finest and most important of all their cities, was sacked. General
anarchy prevailed throughout the ancient empire. The good old days
of peace and plenty disappeared before the invader. The glory of the
old empire was destroyed, not to return for several centuries. In
these dark ages, resembling those of European medieval times which
followed the Germanic migrations and the fall of the Roman Empire,
Peru was split up into a large number of small independent units. Each
district chose its own ruler and carried on depredations against
its neighbors. The effects of this may still be seen in the ruins of
small fortresses found guarding the way into isolated Andean valleys.

Montesinos says that those who were most loyal to the Amautas
were few in number and not strong enough to oppose their enemies
successfully. Some of them, probably the principal priests,
wise men, and chiefs of the ancient régime, built a new city at
"Tampu-tocco." Here they kept alive the memory of the Amautas and
lived in such a relatively civilized manner as to draw to them,
little by little, those who wished to be safe from the prevailing
chaos and disorder and the tyranny of the independent chiefs or
"robber barons." In their new capital, they elected a king, Titi
Truaman Quicho.

The survivors of the old régime enjoyed living at Tampu-tocco,
because there never have been any earthquakes, plagues, or tremblings
there. Furthermore, if fortune should turn against their new young
king, Titi Truaman, and he should be killed, they could bury him
in a very sacred place, namely, the cave where they hid the body of
Pachacuti VI.

Fortune was kind to the founders of the new kingdom. They had chosen
an excellent place of refuge where they were not disturbed. To their
ruler, the king of Tampu-tocco, and to his successors nothing worth
recording happened for centuries. During this period several of the
kings wished to establish themselves in ancient Cuzco, where the great
Amautas had reigned, but for one reason or another were obliged to
forego their ambitions.

One of the most enlightened rulers of Tampu-tocco was a king called
Tupac Cauri, or Pachacuti VII. In his day people began to write on
the leaves of trees. He sent messengers to the various parts of the
highlands, asking the tribes to stop worshiping idols and animals,
to cease practicing evil customs which had grown up since the fall
of the Amautas, and to return to the ways of their ancestors. He
met with little encouragement. On the contrary, his ambassadors were
killed and little or no change took place. Discouraged by the failure
of his attempts at reformation and desirous of learning its cause,
Tupac Cauri was told by his soothsayers that the matter which most
displeased the gods was the invention of writing. Thereupon he forbade
anybody to practice writing, under penalty of death. This mandate was
observed with such strictness that the ancient folk never again used
letters. Instead, they used quipus, strings and knots. It was supposed
that the gods were appeased, and every one breathed easier. No one
realized how near the Peruvians as a race had come to taking a most
momentous step.

This curious and interesting tradition relates to an event supposed
to have occurred many centuries before the Spanish Conquest. We
have no ocular evidence to support it. The skeptic may brush it
aside as a story intended to appeal to the vanity of persons with
Inca blood in their veins; yet it is not told by the half-caste
Garcilasso, who wanted Europeans to admire his maternal ancestors
and wrote his book accordingly, but is in the pages of that careful
investigator Montesinos, a pure-blooded Spaniard. As a matter of fact,
to students of Sumner's "Folkways," the story rings true. Some young
fellow, brighter than the rest, developed a system of ideographs
which he scratched on broad, smooth leaves. It worked. People were
beginning to adopt it. The conservative priests of Tampu-tocco did
not like it. There was danger lest some of the precious secrets,
heretofore handed down orally to the neophytes, might become public
property. Nevertheless, the invention was so useful that it began to
spread. There followed some extremely unlucky event--the ambassadors
were killed, the king's plans miscarried. What more natural than
that the newly discovered ideographs should be blamed for it? As a
result, the king of Tampu-tocco, instigated thereto by the priests,
determined to abolish this new thing. Its usefulness had not yet
been firmly established. In fact it was inconvenient; the leaves
withered, dried, and cracked, or blew away, and the writings were
lost. Had the new invention been permitted to exist a little longer,
some one would have commenced to scratch ideographs on rocks. Then it
would have persisted. The rulers and priests, however, found that the
important records of tribute and taxes could be kept perfectly well
by means of the quipus. And the "job" of those whose duty it was to
remember what each string stood for was assured. After all there is
nothing unusual about Montesinos' story. One has only to look at the
history of Spain itself to realize that royal bigotry and priestly
intolerance have often crushed new ideas and kept great nations from
making important advances.

Montesinos says further that Tupac Cauri established in Tampu-tocco
a kind of university where boys were taught the use of quipus, the
method of counting and the significance of the different colored
strings, while their fathers and older brothers were trained in
military exercises--in other words, practiced with the sling, the
bolas and the war-club; perhaps also with bows and arrows. Around the
name of Tupac Cauri, or Pachacuti VII, as he wished to be called,
is gathered the story of various intellectual movements which took
place in Tampu-tocco. Finally, there came a time when the skill and
military efficiency of the little kingdom rose to a high plane. The
ruler and his councilors, bearing in mind the tradition of their
ancestors who centuries before had dwelt in Cuzco, again determined to
make the attempt to reestablish themselves there. An earthquake, which
ruined many buildings in Cuzco, caused rivers to change their courses,
destroyed towns, and was followed by the outbreak of a disastrous
epidemic. The chiefs were obliged to give up their plans, although
in healthy Tampu-tocco there was no pestilence. Their kingdom became
more and more crowded. Every available square yard of arable land was
terraced and cultivated. The men were intelligent, well organized,
and accustomed to discipline, but they could not raise enough food
for their families; so, about 1300 A.D., they were forced to secure
arable land by conquest, under the leadership of the energetic ruler
of the day. His name was Manco Ccapac, generally called the first Inca,
the ruler for whom the Manco of 1536 was named.

There are many stories of the rise of the first Inca. When he had grown
to man's estate, he assembled his people to see how he could secure new
lands for them. After consultation with his brothers, he determined
to set out with them "toward the hill over which the sun rose," as
we are informed by Pachacuti Yamqui Salcamayhua, an Indian who was
a descendant of a long line of Incas, whose great-grandparents lived
in the time of the Spanish Conquest, and who wrote an account of the
antiquities of Peru in 1620. He gives the history of the Incas as it
was handed down to the descendants of the former rulers of Peru. In
it we read that Manco Ccapac and his brothers finally succeeded in
reaching Cuzco and settled there. With the return of the descendants
of the Amautas to Cuzco there ended the glory of Tampu-tocco. Manco
married his own sister in order that he might not lose caste and that
no other family be elevated by this marriage to be on an equality with
his. He made good laws, conquered many provinces, and is regarded
as the founder of the Inca dynasty. The highlanders came under his
sway and brought him rich presents. The Inca, as Manco Ccapac now
came to be known, was recognized as the most powerful chief, the most
valiant fighter, and the most lucky warrior in the Andes. His captains
and soldiers were brave, well disciplined, and well armed. All his
affairs prospered greatly. "Afterward he ordered works to be executed
at the place of his birth, consisting of a masonry wall with three
windows, which were emblems of the house of his fathers whence he
descended. The first window was called Tampu-tocco." I quote from
Sir Clements Markham's translation.


The Best Inca Wall at Maucallacta, near Paccaritampu


The Caves of Puma Urco, near Paccaritampu

The Spaniards who asked about Tampu-tocco were told that it was at or
near Paccaritampu, a small town eight or ten miles south of Cuzco. I
learned that ruins are very scarce in its vicinity. There are none in
the town. The most important are the ruins of Maucallacta, an Inca
village, a few miles away. Near it I found a rocky hill consisting
of several crags and large rocks, the surface of one of which is
carved into platforms and two sleeping pumas. It is called Puma
Urco. Beneath the rocks are some caves. I was told they had recently
been used by political refugees. There is enough about the caves and
the characteristics of the ruins near Paccaritampu to lend color to the
story told to the early Spaniards. Nevertheless, it would seem as if
Tampu-tocco must have been a place more remote from Cuzco and better
defended by Nature from any attacks on that side. How else would it
have been possible for the disorganized remnant of Pachacuti VI's army
to have taken refuge there and set up an independent kingdom in the
face of the warlike invaders from the south? A few men might have hid
in the caves of Puma Urco, but Paccaritampu is not a natural citadel.

The surrounding region is not difficult of access. There are no
precipices between here and the Cuzco Basin. There are no natural
defenses against such an invading force as captured the capital of
the Amautas. Furthermore, tampu means "a place of temporary abode,"
or "a tavern," or "an improved piece of ground" or "farm far from a
town"; tocco means "window." There is an old tavern at Maucallacta
near Paccaritampu, but there are no windows in the building to
justify the name of "window tavern" or "place of temporary abode"
(or "farm far from a town") "noted for its windows." There is nothing
of a "masonry wall with three windows" corresponding to Salcamayhua's
description of Manco Ccapac's memorial at his birthplace. The word
"Tampu-tocco" does not occur on any map I have been able to consult,
nor is it in the exhaustive gazetteer of Peru compiled by Paz Soldan.


Machu Picchu

It was in July, 1911, that we first entered that marvelous canyon of
the Urubamba, where the river escapes from the cold regions near Cuzco
by tearing its way through gigantic mountains of granite. From Torontoy
to Colpani the road runs through a land of matchless charm. It has the
majestic grandeur of the Canadian Rockies, as well as the startling
beauty of the Nuuanu Pali near Honolulu, and the enchanting vistas of
the Koolau Ditch Trail on Maul. In the variety of its charms and the
power of its spell, I know of no place in the world which can compare
with it. Not only has it great snow peaks looming above the clouds more
than two miles overhead; gigantic precipices of many-colored granite
rising sheer for thousands of feet above the foaming, glistening,
roaring rapids; it has also, in striking contrast, orchids and
tree ferns, the delectable beauty of luxurious vegetation, and the
mysterious witchery of the jungle. One is drawn irresistibly onward
by ever-recurring surprises through a deep, winding gorge, turning
and twisting past overhanging cliffs of incredible height. Above all,
there is the fascination of finding here and there under the swaying
vines, or perched on top of a beetling crag, the rugged masonry of
a bygone race; and of trying to understand the bewildering romance
of the ancient builders who ages ago sought refuge in a region which
appears to have been expressly designed by Nature as a sanctuary for
the oppressed, a place where they might fearlessly and patiently give
expression to their passion for walls of enduring beauty. Space forbids
any attempt to describe in detail the constantly changing panorama,
the rank tropical foliage, the countless terraces, the towering cliffs,
the glaciers peeping out between the clouds.

We had camped at a place near the river, called Mandor Pampa. Melchor
Arteaga, proprietor of the neighboring farm, had told us of ruins at
Machu Picchu, as was related in Chapter X.

The morning of July 24th dawned in a cold drizzle. Arteaga shivered
and seemed inclined to stay in his hut. I offered to pay him well if he
would show me the ruins. He demurred and said it was too hard a climb
for such a wet day. When he found that we were willing to pay him a
sol, three or four times the ordinary daily wage in this vicinity,
he finally agreed to guide us to the ruins. No one supposed that they
would be particularly interesting. Accompanied by Sergeant Carrasco
I left camp at ten o'clock and went some distance upstream. On the
road we passed a venomous snake which recently had been killed. This
region has an unpleasant notoriety for being the favorite haunt of
"vipers." The lance-headed or yellow viper, commonly known as the
fer-de-lance, a very venomous serpent capable of making considerable
springs when in pursuit of its prey, is common hereabouts. Later two
of our mules died from snake-bite.

After a walk of three quarters of an hour the guide left the main road
and plunged down through the jungle to the bank of the river. Here
there was a primitive "bridge" which crossed the roaring rapids at
its narrowest part, where the stream was forced to flow between two
great boulders. The bridge was made of half a dozen very slender logs,
some of which were not long enough to span the distance between the
boulders. They had been spliced and lashed together with vines. Arteaga
and Carrasco took off their shoes and crept gingerly across, using
their somewhat prehensile toes to keep from slipping. It was obvious
that no one could have lived for an instant in the rapids, but would
immediately have been dashed to pieces against granite boulders. I
am frank to confess that I got down on hands and knees and crawled
across, six inches at a time. Even after we reached the other side
I could not help wondering what would happen to the "bridge" if a
particularly heavy shower should fall in the valley above. A light
rain had fallen during the night. The river had risen so that the
bridge was already threatened by the foaming rapids. It would not
take much more rain to wash away the bridge entirely. If this should
happen during the day it might be very awkward. As a matter of fact,
it did happen a few days later and the next explorers to attempt to
cross the river at this point found only one slender log remaining.

Leaving the stream, we struggled up the bank through a dense jungle,
and in a few minutes reached the bottom of a precipitous slope. For
an hour and twenty minutes we had a hard climb. A good part of the
distance we went on all fours, sometimes hanging on by the tips
of our fingers. Here and there, a primitive ladder made from the
roughly hewn trunk of a small tree was placed in such a way as to
help one over what might otherwise have proved to be an impassable
cliff. In another place the slope was covered with slippery grass
where it was hard to find either handholds or footholds. The guide
said that there were lots of snakes here. The humidity was great,
the heat was excessive, and we were not in training.

Shortly after noon we reached a little grass-covered hut where several
good-natured Indians, pleasantly surprised at our unexpected arrival,
welcomed us with dripping gourds full of cool, delicious water. Then
they set before us a few cooked sweet potatoes, called here cumara,
a Quichua word identical with the Polynesian kumala, as has been
pointed out by Mr. Cook.

Apart from the wonderful view of the canyon, all we could see from
our cool shelter was a couple of small grass huts and a few ancient
stone-faced terraces. Two pleasant Indian farmers, Richarte and
Alvarez, had chosen this eagle's nest for their home. They said they
had found plenty of terraces here on which to grow their crops and
they were usually free from undesirable visitors. They did not speak
Spanish, but through Sergeant Carrasco I learned that there were more
ruins "a little farther along." In this country one never can tell
whether such a report is worthy of credence. "He may have been lying"
is a good footnote to affix to all hearsay evidence. Accordingly,
I was not unduly excited, nor in a great hurry to move. The heat
was still great, the water from the Indian's spring was cool
and delicious, and the rustic wooden bench, hospitably covered
immediately after my arrival with a soft, woolen poncho, seemed most
comfortable. Furthermore, the view was simply enchanting. Tremendous
green precipices fell away to the white rapids of the Urubamba
below. Immediately in front, on the north side of the valley, was
a great granite cliff rising 2000 feet sheer. To the left was the
solitary peak of Huayna Picchu, surrounded by seemingly inaccessible
precipices. On all sides were rocky cliffs. Beyond them cloud-capped
mountains rose thousands of feet above us.

The Indians said there were two paths to the outside world. Of one we
had already had a taste; the other, they said, was more difficult--a
perilous path down the face of a rocky precipice on the other side
of the ridge. It was their only means of egress in the wet season,
when the bridge over which we had come could not be maintained. I was
not surprised to learn that they went away from home only "about once
a month."

Richarte told us that they had been living here four years. It
seems probable that, owing to its inaccessibility, the canyon had
been unoccupied for several centuries, but with the completion of
the new government road settlers began once more to occupy this
region. In time somebody clambered up the precipices and found on
the slopes of Machu Picchu, at an elevation of 9000 feet above the
sea, an abundance of rich soil conveniently situated on artificial
terraces, in a fine climate. Here the Indians had finally cleared
off some ruins, burned over a few terraces, and planted crops of
maize, sweet and white potatoes, sugar cane, beans, peppers, tree
tomatoes, and gooseberries. At first they appropriated some of the
ancient houses and replaced the roofs of wood and thatch. They found,
however, that there were neither springs nor wells near the ancient
buildings. An ancient aqueduct which had once brought a tiny stream
to the citadel had long since disappeared beneath the forest, filled
with earth washed from the upper terraces. So, abandoning the shelter
of the ruins, the Indians were now enjoying the convenience of living
near some springs in roughly built thatched huts of their own design.

Without the slightest expectation of finding anything more interesting
than the stone-faced terraces of which I already had a glimpse, and
the ruins of two or three stone houses such as we had encountered
at various places on the road between Ollantaytambo and Torontoy,
I finally left the cool shade of the pleasant little hut and climbed
farther up the ridge and around a slight promontory. Arteaga had
"been here once before," and decided to rest and gossip with Richarte
and Alvarez in the hut. They sent a small boy with me as a guide.

Hardly had we rounded the promontory when the character of the
stonework began to improve. A flight of beautifully constructed
terraces, each two hundred yards long and ten feet high, had then
recently rescued from the jungle by the Indians. A forest of large
trees had been chopped down and burned over to make a clearing
for agricultural purposes. Crossing these terraces, I entered the
untouched forest beyond, and suddenly found myself in a maze of
beautiful granite houses! They were covered with trees and moss and
the growth of centuries, but in the dense shadow, hiding in bamboo
thickets and tangled vines, could be seen, here and there, walls
of white granite ashlars most carefully cut and exquisitely fitted
together. Buildings with windows were frequent. Here at least was a
"place far from town and conspicuous for its windows."


Flashlight view of Interior of Cave, Machu Picchu


Temple over Cave at Machu Picchu Suggested by the Author as the
Probable Site of Tampu-Tocco

Under a carved rock the little boy showed me a cave beautifully lined
with the finest cut stone. It was evidently intended to be a Royal
Mausoleum. On top of this particular boulder a semicircular building
had been constructed. The wall followed the natural curvature of the
rock and was keyed to it by one of the finest examples of masonry I
have ever seen. This beautiful wall, made of carefully matched ashlars
of pure white granite, especially selected for its fine grain, was the
work of a master artist. The interior surface of the wall was broken
by niches and square stone-pegs. The exterior surface was perfectly
simple and unadorned. The lower courses, of particularly large ashlars,
gave it a look of solidity. The upper courses, diminishing in size
toward the top, lent grace and delicacy to the structure. The flowing
lines, the symmetrical arrangement of the ashlars, and the gradual
gradation of the courses, combined to produce a wonderful effect,
softer and more pleasing than that of the marble temples of the
Old World. Owing to the absence of mortar, there are no ugly spaces
between the rocks. They might have grown together.

The elusive beauty of this chaste, undecorated surface seems to me
to be due to the fact that the wall was built under the eye of a
master mason who knew not the straight edge, the plumb rule, or the
square. He had no instruments of precision, so he had to depend on
his eye. He had a good eye, an artistic eye, an eye for symmetry
and beauty of form. His product received none of the harshness of
mechanical and mathematical accuracy. The apparently rectangular
blocks are not really rectangular. The apparently straight lines of
the courses are not actually straight in the exact sense of that term.

To my astonishment I saw that this wall and its adjoining semicircular
temple over the cave were as fine as the finest stonework in the
far-famed Temple of the Sun in Cuzco. Surprise followed surprise in
bewildering succession. I climbed a marvelous great stairway of large
granite blocks, walked along a pampa where the Indians had a small
vegetable garden, and came into a little clearing. Here were the ruins
of two of the finest structures I have ever seen in Peru. Not only were
they made of selected blocks of beautifully grained white granite;
their walls contained ashlars of Cyclopean size, ten feet in length,
and higher than a man. The sight held me spellbound.

Each building had only three walls and was entirely open on the
side toward the clearing. The principal temple was lined with
exquisitely made niches, five high up at each end, and seven on the
back wall. There were seven courses of ashlars in the end walls. Under
the seven rear niches was a rectangular block fourteen feet long,
probably a sacrificial altar. The building did not look as though
it had ever had a roof. The top course of beautifully smooth ashlars
was not intended to be covered.

The other temple is on the east side of the pampa. I called it the
Temple of the Three Windows. Like its neighbor, it is unique among
Inca ruins. Its eastern wall, overlooking the citadel, is a massive
stone framework for three conspicuously large windows, obviously too
large to serve any useful purpose, yet most beautifully made with the
greatest care and solidity. This was clearly a ceremonial edifice of
peculiar significance. Nowhere else in Peru, so far as I know, is there
a similar structure conspicuous as "a masonry wall with three windows."

These ruins have no other name than that of the mountain on the
slopes of which they are located. Had this place been occupied
uninterruptedly, like Cuzco and Ollantaytambo, Machu Picchu would
have retained its ancient name, but during the centuries when it
was abandoned, its name was lost. Examination showed that it was
essentially a fortified place, a remote fastness protected by natural
bulwarks, of which man took advantage to create the most impregnable
stronghold in the Andes. Our subsequent excavations and the clearing
made in 1912, to be described in a subsequent volume, has shown that
this was the chief place in Uilcapampa.

It did not take an expert to realize, from the glimpse of Machu
Picchu on that rainy day in July, 1911, when Sergeant Carrasco and
I first saw it, that here were most extraordinary and interesting
ruins. Although the ridge had been partly cleared by the Indians for
their fields of maize, so much of it was still underneath a thick
jungle growth--some walls were actually supporting trees ten and
twelve inches in diameter--that it was impossible to determine just
what would be found here. As soon as I could get hold of Mr. Tucker,
who was assisting Mr. Hendriksen, and Mr. Lanius, who had gone down the
Urubamba with Dr. Bowman, I asked them to make a map of the ruins. I
knew it would be a difficult undertaking and that it was essential
for Mr. Tucker to join me in Arequipa not later than the first of
October for the ascent of Coropuna. With the hearty aid of Richarte
and Alvarez, the surveyors did better than I expected. In the ten days
while they were at the ruins they were able to secure data from which
Mr. Tucker afterwards prepared a map which told better than could
any words of mine the importance of this site and the necessity for
further investigation.

With the possible exception of one mining prospector, no one in Cuzco
had seen the ruins of Machu Picchu or appreciated their importance. No
one had any realization of what an extraordinary place lay on top of
the ridge. It had never been visited by any of the planters of the
lower Urubamba Valley who annually passed over the road which winds
through the canyon two thousand feet below.

It seems incredible that this citadel, less than three days' journey
from Cuzco, should have remained so long undescribed by travelers
and comparatively unknown even to the Peruvians themselves. If the
conquistadores ever saw this wonderful place, some reference to it
surely would have been made; yet nothing can be found which clearly
refers to the ruins of Machu Picchu. Just when it was first seen by a
Spanish-speaking person is uncertain. When the Count de Sartiges was
at Huadquiña in 1834 he was looking for ruins; yet, although so near,
he heard of none here. From a crude scrawl on the walls of one of the
finest buildings, we learned that the ruins were visited in 1902 by
Lizarraga, lessee of the lands immediately below the bridge of San
Miguel. This is the earliest local record. Yet some one must have
visited Machu Picchu long before that; because in 1875, as has been
said, the French explorer Charles Wiener heard in Ollantaytambo of
there being ruins at "Huaina-Picchu or Matcho-Picchu." He tried to
find them. That he failed was due to there being no road through the
canyon of Torontoy and the necessity of making a wide detour through
the pass of Panticalla and the Lucumayo Valley, a route which brought
him to the Urubamba River at the bridge of Chuquichaca, twenty-five
miles below Machu Picchu.


Detail of Exterior of Temple of the Three Windows, Machu Picchu


Detail of Principal Temple Machu Picchu

It was not until 1890 that the Peruvian Government, recognizing the
needs of the enterprising planters who were opening up the lower
valley of the Urubamba, decided to construct a mule trail along the
banks of the river through the grand canyon to enable the much-desired
coca and aguardiente to be shipped from Huadquiña, Maranura, and Santa
Ann to Cuzco more quickly and cheaply than formerly. This road avoids
the necessity of carrying the precious cargoes over the dangerous
snowy passes of Mt. Veronica and Mt. Salcantay, so vividly described
by Raimondi, de Sartiges, and others. The road, however, was very
expensive, took years to build, and still requires frequent repair. In
fact, even to-day travel over it is often suspended for several days
or weeks at a time, following some tremendous avalanche. Yet it was
this new road which had led Melchor Arteaga to build his hut near
the arable land at Mandor Pampa, where he could raise food for his
family and offer rough shelter to passing travelers. It was this
new road which brought Richarte, Alvarez, and their enterprising
friends into this little-known region, gave them the opportunity of
occupying the ancient terraces of Machu Picchu, which had lain fallow
for centuries, encouraged them to keep open a passable trail over
the precipices, and made it feasible for us to reach the ruins. It
was this new road which offered us in 1911 a virgin field between
Ollantaytambo and Huadquiña and enabled us to learn that the Incas,
or their predecessors, had once lived here in the remote fastnesses of
the Andes, and had left stone witnesses of the magnificence and beauty
of their ancient civilization, more interesting and extensive than any
which have been found since the days of the Spanish Conquest of Peru.


The Origin of Machu Picchu

Some other day I hope to tell of the work of clearing and excavating
Machu Picchu, of the life lived by its citizens, and of the ancient
towns of which it was the most important. At present I must rest
content with a discussion of its probable identity. Here was a powerful
citadel tenable against all odds, a stronghold where a mere handful
of defenders could prevent a great army from taking the place by
assault. Why should any one have desired to be so secure from capture
as to have built a fortress in such an inaccessible place?

The builders were not in search of fields. There is so little arable
land here that every square yard of earth had to be terraced in
order to provide food for the inhabitants. They were not looking for
comfort or convenience. Safety was their primary consideration. They
were sufficiently civilized to practice intensive agriculture,
sufficiently skillful to equal the best masonry the world has ever
seen, sufficiently ingenious to make delicate bronzes, and sufficiently
advanced in art to realize the beauty of simplicity. What could have
induced such a people to select this remote fastness of the Andes,
with all its disadvantages, as the site for their capital, unless
they were fleeing from powerful enemies.

The thought will already have occurred to the reader that the Temple
of the Three Windows at Machu Picchu fits the words of that native
writer who had "heard from a child the most ancient traditions and
histories," including the story already quoted from Sir Clements
Markham's translation that Manco Ccapac, the first Inca, "ordered
works to be executed at the place of his birth; consisting of a
masonry wall with three windows, which were emblems of the house
of his fathers whence he descended. The first window was called
'Tampu-tocco.' " Although none of the other chroniclers gives the
story of the first Inca ordering a memorial wall to be built at the
place of his birth, they nearly all tell of his having come from a
place called Tampu-tocco, "an inn or country place remarkable for
its windows." Sir Clements Markham, in his "Incas of Peru," refers
to Tampu-tocco as "the hill with the three openings or windows."

The place assigned by all the chroniclers as the location of the
traditional Tampu-tocco, as has been said, is Paccaritampu, about nine
miles southwest of Cuzco. Paccaritampu has some interesting ruins and
caves, but careful examination shows that while there are more than
three openings to its caves, there are no windows in its buildings. The
buildings of Machu Picchu, on the other hand, have far more windows
than any other important ruin in Peru. The climate of Paccaritampu,
like that of most places in the highlands, is too severe to invite
or encourage the use of windows. The climate of Machu Picchu is mild,
consequently the use of windows was natural and agreeable.

So far as I know, there is no place in Peru where the ruins consist of
anything like a "masonry wall with three windows" of such a ceremonial
character as is here referred to, except at Machu Picchu. It would
certainly seem as though the Temple of the Three Windows, the most
significant structure within the citadel, is the building referred
to by Pachacuti Yamqui Saleamayhua.


The Masonry Wall with Three Windows, Machu Picchu

The principal difficulty with this theory is that while the
first meaning of tocco in Holguin's standard Quichua dictionary is
"ventana" or "window," and while "window" is the only meaning given
this important word in Markham's revised Quichua dictionary (1908),
a dictionary compiled from many sources, the second meaning of tocco
given by Holguin is "alacena," "a cupboard set in a wall." Undoubtedly
this means what we call, in the ruins of the houses of the Incas, a
niche. Now the drawings, crude as they are, in Sir Clements Markham's
translation of the Salcamayhua manuscript, do give the impression
of niches rather than of windows. Does Tampu-tocco mean a tampu
remarkable for its niches? At Paccaritampu there do not appear to be
any particularly fine niches; while at Machu Picchu, on the other hand,
there are many very beautiful niches, especially in the cave which has
been referred to as a "Royal Mausoleum." As a matter of fact, nearly
all the finest ruins of the Incas have excellent niches. Since niches
were so common a feature of Inca architecture, the chances are that Sir
Clements is right in translating Salcamayhua as he did and in calling
Tampu-tocco "the hill with the three openings or windows." In any case
Machu Picchu fits the story far better than does Paccaritampu. However,
in view of the fact that the early writers all repeat the story that
Tampu-tocco was at Paccaritampu, it would be absurd to say that they
did not know what they were talking about, even though the actual
remains at or near Paccaritampu do not fit the requirements.

It would be easier to adopt Paccaritampu as the site of Tampu-tocco
were it not for the legal records of an inquiry made by Toledo at the
time when he put the last Inca to death. Fifteen Indians, descended
from those who used to live near Las Salinas, the important salt works
near Cuzco, on being questioned, agreed that they had heard their
fathers and grandfathers repeat the tradition that when the first Inca,
Manco Ccapac, captured their lands, he came from Tampu-tocco. They did
not say that the first Inca came from Paccaritampu, which, it seems
to me, would have been a most natural thing for them to have said if
this were the general belief of the natives. In addition there is the
still older testimony of some Indians born before the arrival of the
first Spaniards, who were examined at a legal investigation in 1570. A
chief, aged ninety-two, testified that Manco Ccapac came out of a cave
called Tocco, and that he was lord of the town near that cave. Not
one of the witnesses stated that Manco Ccapac came from Paccaritampu,
although it is difficult to imagine why they should not have done
so if, as the contemporary historians believed, this was really the
original Tampu-tocco. The chroniclers were willing enough to accept
the interesting cave near Paccaritampu as the place where Manco
Ccapac was born, and from which he came to conquer Cuzco. Why were
the sworn witnesses so reticent? It seems hardly possible that they
should have forgotten where Tampu-tocco was supposed to have been. Was
their reticence due to the fact that its actual whereabouts had been
successfully kept secret? Manco Ccapac's home was that Tampu-tocco
to which the followers of Pachacuti VI fled with his body after the
overthrow of the old régime, a very secluded and holy place. Did they
know it was in the same fastnesses of the Andes to which in the days
of Pizarro the young Inca Manco had fled from Cuzco? Was this the
cause of their reticence?

Certainly the requirements of Tampu-tocco are met at Machu Picchu. The
splendid natural defenses of the Grand Canyon of the Urubamba made it
an ideal refuge for the descendants of the Amautas during the centuries
of lawlessness and confusion which succeeded the barbarian invasions
from the plains to the east and south. The scarcity of violent
earthquakes and also its healthfulness, both marked characteristics
of Tampu-tocco, are met at Machu Picchu. It is worth noting that the
existence of Machu Picchu might easily have been concealed from the
common people. At the time of the Spanish Conquest its location might
have been known only to the Inca and his priests.

So, notwithstanding the belief of the historians, I feel it is
reasonable to conclude that the first name of the ruins at Machu Picchu
was Tampu-tocco. Here Pachacuti VI was buried; here was the capital of
the little kingdom where during the centuries between the Amautas and
the Incas there was kept alive the wisdom, skill, and best traditions
of the ancient folk who had developed the civilization of Peru.

It is well to remember that the defenses of Cuzco were of little avail
before the onslaught of the warlike invaders. The great organization
of farmers and masons, so successful in its ability to perform
mighty feats of engineering with primitive tools of wood, stone,
and bronze, had crumbled away before the attacks of savage hordes
who knew little of the arts of peace. The defeated leaders had to
choose a region where they might live in safety from their fierce
enemies. Furthermore, in the environs of Machu Picchu they found
every variety of climate--valleys so low as to produce the precious
coca, yucca, and plantain, the fruits and vegetables of the tropics;
slopes high enough to be suitable for many varieties of maize,
quinoa, and other cereals, as well as their favorite root crops,
including both sweet and white potatoes, oca, añu, and ullucu. Here,
within a few hours' journey, they could find days warm enough to dry
and cure the coca leaves; nights cold enough to freeze potatoes in
the approved aboriginal fashion.

Although the amount of arable land which could be made available with
the most careful terracing was not large enough to support a very
great population, Machu Picchu offered an impregnable citadel to the
chiefs and priests and their handful of followers who were obliged
to flee from the rich plains near Cuzco and the broad, pleasant
valley of Yucay. Only dire necessity and terror could have forced a
people which had reached such a stage in engineering, architecture,
and agriculture, to leave hospitable valleys and tablelands for rugged
canyons. Certainly there is no part of the Andes less fitted by nature
to meet the requirements of an agricultural folk, unless their chief
need was a safe refuge and retreat.

Here the wise remnant of the Amautas ultimately developed great
ability. In the face of tremendous natural obstacles they utilized
their ancient craft to wrest a living from the soil. Hemmed in
between the savages of the Amazon jungles below and their enemies
on the plateau above, they must have carried on border warfare for
generations. Aided by the temperate climate in which they lived,
and the ability to secure a wide variety of food within a few hours'
climb up or down from their towns and cities, they became a hardy,
vigorous tribe which in the course of time burst its boundaries, fought
its way back to the rich Cuzco Valley, overthrew the descendants
of the ancient invaders and established, with Cuzco as a capital,
the Empire of the Incas.

After the first Inca, Manco Ccapac, had established himself in Cuzco,
what more natural than that he should have built a fine temple in
honor of his ancestors. Ancestor worship was common to the Incas,
and nothing would have been more reasonable than the construction
of the Temple of the Three Windows. As the Incas grew in power and
extended their rule over the ancient empire of the Cuzco Amautas from
whom they traced their descent, superstitious regard would have led
them to establish their chief temples and palaces in the city of Cuzco
itself. There was no longer any necessity to maintain the citadel of
Tampu-tocco. It was probably deserted, while Cuzco grew and the Inca
Empire flourished.

As the Incas increased in power they invented various myths to account
for their origin. One of these traced their ancestry to the islands of
Lake Titicaca. Finally the very location of Manco Ccapac's birthplace
was forgotten by the common people--although undoubtedly known to the
priests and those who preserved the most sacred secrets of the Incas.

Then came Pizarro and the bigoted conquistadores. The native chiefs
faced the necessity of saving whatever was possible of the ancient
religion. The Spaniards coveted gold and silver. The most precious
possessions of the Incas, however, were not images and utensils, but
the sacred Virgins of the Sun, who, like the Vestal Virgins of Rome,
were from their earliest childhood trained to the service of the great
Sun God. Looked at from the standpoint of an agricultural people who
needed the sun to bring their food crops to fruition and keep them from
hunger, it was of the utmost importance to placate him with sacrifices
and secure the good effects of his smiling face. If he delayed his
coming or kept himself hidden behind the clouds, the maize would mildew
and the ears would not properly ripen. If he did not shine with his
accustomed brightness after the harvest, the ears of corn could not be
properly dried and kept over to the next year. In short, any unusual
behavior on the part of the sun meant hunger and famine. Consequently
their most beautiful daughters were consecrated to his service, as
"Virgins" who lived in the temple and ministered to the wants of
priests and rulers. Human sacrifice had long since been given up in
Peru and its place taken by the consecration of these damsels. Some
of the Virgins of the Sun in Cuzco were captured. Others escaped and
accompanied Manco into the inaccessible canyons of Uilcapampa.

It will be remembered that Father Calancha relates the trials of the
first two missionaries in this region, who at the peril of their lives
urged the Inca to let them visit the "University of Idolatry," at
"Vilcabamba Viejo," "the largest city" in the province. Machu Picchu
admirably answers its requirements. Here it would have been very
easy for the Inca Titu Cusi to have kept the monks in the vicinity
of the Sacred City for three weeks without their catching a single
glimpse of its unique temples and remarkable palaces. It would have
been possible for Titu Cusi to bring Friar Marcos and Friar Diego
to the village of Intihuatana near San Miguel, at the foot of the
Machu Picchu cliffs. The sugar planters of the lower Urubamba Valley
crossed the bridge of San Miguel annually for twenty years in blissful
ignorance of what lay on top of the ridge above them. So the friars
might easily have been lodged in huts at the foot of the mountain
without their being aware of the extent and importance of the Inca
"university." Apparently they returned to Puquiura with so little
knowledge of the architectural character of "Vilcabamba Viejo" that
no description of it could be given their friends, eventually to
be reported by Calancha. Furthermore, the difficult journey across
country from Puquiura might easily have taken "three days."

Finally, it appears from Dr. Eaton's studies that the last residents
of Machu Picchu itself were mostly women. In the burial caves which
we have found in the region roundabout Machu Picchu the proportion
of skulls belonging to men is very large. There are many so-called
"trepanned" skulls. Some of them seem to belong to soldiers injured
in war by having their skulls crushed in, either with clubs or
the favorite sling-stones of the Incas. In no case have we found
more than twenty-five skulls without encountering some "trepanned"
specimens among them. In striking contrast is the result of the
excavations at Machu Picchu, where one hundred sixty-four skulls
were found in the burial caves, yet not one had been "trepanned." Of
the one hundred thirty-five skeletons whose sex could be accurately
determined by Dr. Eaton, one hundred nine were females. Furthermore,
it was in the graves of the females that the finest artifacts were
found, showing that they were persons of no little importance. Not
a single representative of the robust male of the warrior type was
found in the burial caves of Machu Picchu.

Another striking fact brought out by Dr. Eaton is that some of the
female skeletons represent individuals from the seacoast. This fits in
with Calancha's statement that Titu Cusi tempted the monks not only
with beautiful women of the highlands, but also with those who came
from the tribes of the Yungas, or "warm valleys." The "warm valleys"
may be those of the rubber country, but Sir Clements Markham thought
the oases of the coast were meant.

Furthermore, as Mr. Safford has pointed out, among the artifacts
discovered at Machu Picchu was a "snuffing tube" intended for use with
the narcotic snuff which was employed by the priests and necromancers
to induce a hypnotic state. This powder was made from the seeds of
the tree which the Incas called huilca or uilca, which, as has been
pointed out in Chapter XI, grows near these ruins. This seems to me
to furnish additional evidence of the identity of Machu Picchu with
Calancha's "Vilcabamba."

It cannot be denied that the ruins of Machu Picchu satisfy the
requirements of "the largest city, in which was the University of
Idolatry." Until some one can find the ruins of another important place
within three days' journey of Pucyura which was an important religious
center and whose skeletal remains are chiefly those of women, I am
inclined to believe that this was the "Vilcabamba Viejo" of Calancha,
just as Espiritu Pampa was the "Vilcabamba Viejo" of Ocampo.

In the interesting account of the last Incas purporting to be by Titu
Cusi, but actually written in excellent Spanish by Friar Marcos,
he says that his father, Manco, fleeing from Cuzco went first "to
Vilcabamba, the head of all that province."

In the "Anales del Peru" Montesinos says that Francisco Pizarro,
thinking that the Inca Manco wished to make peace with him, tried
to please the Inca by sending him a present of a very fine pony and
a mulatto to take care of it. In place of rewarding the messenger,
the Inca killed both man and beast. When Pizarro was informed of this,
he took revenge on Manco by cruelly abusing the Inca's favorite wife,
and putting her to death. She begged of her attendants that "when she
should be dead they would put her remains in a basket and let it float
down the Yucay [or Urubamba] River, that the current might take it
to her husband, the Inca." She must have believed that at that time
Manco was near this river. Machu Picchu is on its banks. Espiritu
Pampa is not.

We have already seen how Manco finally established himself at Uiticos,
where he restored in some degree the fortunes of his house. Surrounded
by fertile valleys, not too far removed from the great highway which
the Spaniards were obliged to use in passing from Lima to Cuzco, he
could readily attack them. At Machu Picchu he would not have been
so conveniently located for robbing the Spanish caravans nor for
supplying his followers with arable lands.

There is abundant archeological evidence that the citadel of Machu
Picchu was at one time occupied by the Incas and partly built by them
on the ruins of a far older city. Much of the pottery is unquestionably
of the so-called Cuzco style, used by the last Incas. The more recent
buildings resemble those structures on the island of Titicaca said to
have been built by the later Incas. They also resemble the fortress of
Uiticos, at Rosaspata, built by Manco about 1537. Furthermore, they
are by far the largest and finest ruins in the mountains of the old
province of Uilcapampa and represent the place which would naturally
be spoken of by Titu Cusi as the "head of the province." Espiritu
Pampa does not satisfy the demands of a place which was so important
as to give its name to the entire province, to be referred to as
"the largest city."

It seems quite possible that the inaccessible, forgotten citadel of
Machu Picchu was the place chosen by Manco as the safest refuge for
those Virgins of the Sun who had successfully escaped from Cuzco in
the days of Pizarro. For them and their attendants Manco probably
built many of the newer buildings and repaired some of the older
ones. Here they lived out their days, secure in the knowledge that
no Indians would ever breathe to the conquistadores the secret of
their sacred refuge.


The Gorges, Opening Wide Apart, Reveal Uilcapampa's Granite Citadel,
the Crown of Inca Land: Machu Picchu

When the worship of the sun actually ceased on the heights of Machu
Picchu no one can tell. That the secret of its existence was so well
kept is one of the marvels of Andean history. Unless one accepts the
theories of its identity with "Tampu-tocco" and "Vilcabamba Viejo,"
there is no clear reference to Machu Picchu until 1875, when Charles
Wiener heard about it.

Some day we may be able to find a reference in one of the documents
of the sixteenth or seventeenth centuries which will indicate that
the energetic Viceroy Toledo, or a contemporary of his, knew of
this marvelous citadel and visited it. Writers like Cieza de Leon
and Polo de Ondegardo, who were assiduous in collecting information
about all the holy places of the Incas, give the names of many places
which as yet we have not been able to identify. Among them we may
finally recognize the temples of Machu Picchu. On the other hand,
it seems likely that if any of the Spanish soldiers, priests, or
other chroniclers had seen this citadel, they would have described
its chief edifices in unmistakable terms.

Until further light can be thrown on this fascinating problem it
seems reasonable to conclude that at Machu Picchu we have the ruins of
Tampu-tocco, the birthplace of the first Inca, Manco Ccapac, and also
the ruins of a sacred city of the last Incas. Surely this granite
citadel, which has made such a strong appeal to us on account of
its striking beauty and the indescribable charm of its surroundings,
appears to have had a most interesting history. Selected about 800
A.D. as the safest place of refuge for the last remnants of the
old régime fleeing from southern invaders, it became the site of the
capital of a new kingdom, and gave birth to the most remarkable family
which South America has ever seen. Abandoned, about 1300, when Cuzco
once more flashed into glory as the capital of the Peruvian Empire,
it seems to have been again sought out in time of trouble, when in
1534 another foreign invader arrived--this time from Europe--with a
burning desire to extinguish all vestiges of the ancient religion. In
its last state it became the home and refuge of the Virgins of the
Sun, priestesses of the most humane cult of aboriginal America. Here,
concealed in a canyon of remarkable grandeur, protected by art and
nature, these consecrated women gradually passed away, leaving no
known descendants, nor any records other than the masonry walls
and artifacts to be described in another volume. Whoever they were,
whatever name be finally assigned to this site by future historians,
of this I feel sure--that few romances can ever surpass that of the
granite citadel on top of the beetling precipices of Machu Picchu,
the crown of Inca Land.


Añu: A species of nasturtium with edible roots.

Aryballus: A bottle-shaped vase with pointed bottom.

Azequia: An irrigation ditch or conduit.

Bar-hold: A stone cylinder or pin, let into a gatepost in such a way
as to permit the gate bar to be tied to it. Sometimes the bar-hold
is part of one of the ashlars of the gatepost. Bar-holds are usually
found in the gateway of a compound or group of Inca houses.

Coca: Shrub from which cocaine is extracted. The dried leaves are
chewed to secure the desired deadening effect of the drug.

Conquistadores: Spanish soldiers engaged in the conquest of America.

Eye-bonder: A narrow, rough ashlar in one end of which a chamfered
hole has been cut. Usually about 2 feet long, 6 inches wide, and 2
inches thick, it was bonded into the wall of a gable at right angles
to its slope and flush with its surface. To it the purlins of the roof
could be fastened. Eye-bonders are also found projecting above the
lintel of a gateway to a compound. If the "bar-holds" were intended
to secure the horizontal bar of an important gate, these eye-bonders
may have been for a vertical bar.

Gobernador: The Spanish-speaking town magistrate. The alcaldes are
his Indian aids.

Habas beans: Broad beans.

Huaca: A sacred or holy place or thing, sometimes a boulder. Often
applied to a piece of prehistoric pottery.

Mañana: To-morrow, or by and by. The "mañana habit" is Spanish-American

Mestizo: A half-breed of Spanish and Indian ancestry.

Milpa: A word used in Central America for a small farm or clearing. The
milpa system of agriculture involves clearing the forest by fire,
destroys valuable humus and forces the farmer to seek new fields

Montaña: Jungle, forest. The term usually applied by Peruvians to
the heavily forested slopes of the Eastern Andean valleys and the
Amazon Basin.

Oca: Hardy, edible root, related to sheep sorrel.

Quebrada: A gorge or ravine.

Quipu: Knotted, parti-colored strings used by the ancient Peruvians
to keep records. A mnemonic device.

Roof-peg: A roughly cylindrical block of stone bonded into a gable
wall and allowed to project 12 or 15 inches on the outside. Used
in connection with "eye-bonders," the roof-pegs served as points to
which the roof could be tied down.

Sol: Peruvian silver dollar, worth about two shillings or a little
less than half a gold dollar.

Sorocho: Mountain-sickness.

Stone-peg: A roughly cylindrical block of stone bonded into the
walls of a house and projecting 10 or 12 inches on the inside so as
to permit of its being used as a clothes-peg. Stone-pegs are often
found alternating with niches and placed on a level with the lintels
of the niches.

Temblor: A slight earthquake.

Temporales: Small fields of grain which cannot be irrigated and so
depend on the weather for their moisture.

Teniente gobernador: Administrative officer of a small village
or hamlet.

Terremoto: A severe earthquake.

Tesoro: Treasure.

Tutu: A hardy variety of white potato not edible in a fresh state,
used for making chuño, after drying, freezing, and pressing out the
bitter juices.

Ulluca: An edible root.

Viejo: Old.

Bibliography of the Peruvian Expeditions of Yale University and the
National Geographic Society

Thomas Barbour:

Reptiles Collected by Yale Peruvian Expedition of 1912. Proceedings of
Academy of Natural Sciences of Philadelphia, LXV, 505-507, September,
1913. 1 pl.

(With G. K. Noble:)

Amphibians and Reptiles from Southern Peru Collected by Peruvian
Expedition of 1914-1915. Proceedings of U.S. National Museum, LVIII,
609-620, 1921.

Hiram Bingham:

The Ruins of Choqquequirau. American Anthropologist, XII, 505-525,
October, 1910. Illus., 4 pl., map.

Across South America. Boston, Houghton Mifflin Company, 1911, xvi,
405 pp., plates, maps, plans, 8°.

Preliminary Report of the Yale Peruvian Expedition. Bulletin of
American Geographical Society, XLIV, 20-26, January, 1912.

The Ascent of Coropuna. Harper's Magazine, CXXIV, 489-502, March,
1912. Illus.

Vitcos, The Last Inca Capital. Proceedings of American Antiquarian
Society, XXII, N.S., 135-196. April, 1912. Illus., plans.

The Discovery of Pre-Historic Human Remains near Cuzco, Peru. American
Journal of Science, XXXIII, No. 196, 297-305, April, 1912. Illus.,

A Search for the Last Inca Capital. Harper's Magazine, CXXV, 696-705,
October, 1912. Illus.

The Discovery of Machu Picchu. Ibid., CXXVI, 709-719, April,
1913. Illus.

In the Wonderland of Peru. National Geographic Magazine, XXIV, 387-573,
April, 1913. Illus., maps, plans.

The Investigation of Pre-Historic Human Remains Found near Cuzco in
1911. American Journal of Science, XXXVI, No. 211, 1-2, July, 1913.

The Ruins of Espiritu Pampa, Peru. American Anthropologist, XVI,
No. 2, 185-199. April-June, 1914. Illus., 1 pl., map.

Along the Uncharted Pampaconas. Harper's Magazine, CXXIX, 452-463,
August, 1914. Illus., map.

The Pampaconas River. The Geographical Journal, XLIV, 211-214, August,
1914. 2 pl., map.

The Story of Machu Picchu. National Geographic Magazine, XXVII,
172-217, February, 1915. Illus.

Types of Machu Picchu Pottery. American Anthropologist, XVII, 257-271,
April-June, 1915. Illus., 1 pl.

The Inca Peoples and Their Culture. Proceedings of Nineteenth
International Congress of Americanists, Washington, D.C., pp. 253-260,
December, 1915.

Further Explorations in the Land of the Incas. National Geographic
Magazine, XXIX, 431-473, May, 1916. Illus., 2 maps.

Evidences of Symbolism in the Land of the Incas. The Builder, II,
No. 12, 361-366, December, 1916. Illus.

(With Dr. George S. Jamieson:)

Lake Parinacochas and the Composition of its Water. American Journal
of Science, XXXIV, 12-16, July, 1912. Illus.

Isaiah Bowman:

The Geologic Relations of the Cuzco Remains. American Journal of
Science, XXXIII, No. 196, 306-325, April, 1912. Illus.

A Buried Wall at Cuzco and its Relation to the Question of a Pre-Inca
Race. Ibid., XXXIV, No. 204, 497-509, December, 1912. Illus.

The Cañon of the Urubamba. Bulletin of American Geographical Society,
XLIV, 881-897, December, 1912. Illus., map.

The Andes of Southern Peru. Geographical Reconnaissance Along the
Seventy-third Meridian, N.Y., Henry Holt, 1916. xi, 336 pp., plates,
maps, plans.

Lawrence Bruner:

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 1911, Orthoptera
(Acridiidae--Short Horned Locusts). Proceedings of U.S. National
Museum, XLIV, 177-187, 1913.

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 1911, Orthoptera (Addenda to
the Acridiidae). Ibid., XLV, 585-586, 1913.

A. N. Caudell:

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 1911, Orthoptera (Exclusive of
Acridiidae). Proceedings of U.S. National Museum, XLIV, 347-357, 1913.

Ralph V. Chamberlain:

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 1911. The Arachnida. Bulletin of
Museum of Comparative Zoölogy at Harvard College, LX, No. 6, 177-299,
1916. 25 pl.

Frank M. Chapman:

The Distribution of Bird Life in the Urubamba Valley of
Peru. U.S. National Museum Bulletin 117, 138 pp., 1921. 9 pl., map.

O. F. Cook:

Quichua Names of Sweet Potatoes. Journal of Washington Academy of
Sciences, VI, No. 4, 86-90, 1916.

Agriculture and Native Vegetation in Peru. Ibid., VI, No. 10, 284-293,
1916. Illus.

Staircase Farms of the Ancients. National Geographic Magazine, XXIX,
474-534, May, 1916. Illus.

Foot-Plow Agriculture in Peru. Smithsonian Report for 1918,
487-491. 4 pl.

Domestication of Animals in Peru. Journal of Heredity, x, 176-181,
April, 1919. Illus.

(With Alice C. Cook:)

Polar Bear Cacti. Journal of Heredity, Washington, D.C., VIII, 113-120,
March, 1917. Illus.

William H. Dall:

Some Landshells Collected by Dr. Hiram Bingham in Peru. Proceedings
of U.S. National Museum, XXXVIII, 177-182, 1911. Illus.

Reports on Landshells Collected in Peru in 1911 by The Yale
Expedition. Smithsonian Misc. Collections, LIX, No. 14, 12 pp., 1912.

Harrison G. Dyar:

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 1911. Lepidoptera. Proceedings
of U.S. National Museum, XLV, 627-649, 1913.

George F. Eaton:

Report on the Remains of Man and Lower Animals from the Vicinity of
Cuzco. American Journal of Science, XXXIII, No. 196, 325-333, April,
1912. Illus.

Vertebrate Remains in the Cuzco Gravels. Ibid., XXXVI, No. 211, 3-14,
July, 1913. Illus.

Vertebrate Fossils from Ayusbamba, Peru. Ibid., XXXVII, No. 218,
141-154, February, 1914. 3 pl.

The Collection of Osteological Material from Machu
Picchu. Trans. Conn. Academy Arts and Sciences, v, 3-96, May,
1916. Illus., 39 pl., map.

William G. Erving, M.D.:

Medical Report of the Yale Peruvian Expedition. Yale Medical Journal,
XVIII, 325-335, April, 1912. 6 pl.

Alexander W. Evans:

Hepaticæ: Yale Peruvian Expedition of 1911. Trans. Conn. Academy Arts
and Sciences, XVIII, 291-345, April, 1914.

Harry B. Ferris, M.D.:

The Indians of Cuzco and the Apurimac. Memoirs, American
Anthropological Assoc., III, No. 2, 59-148, 1916. 60 pl.

Anthropological Studies on the Quichua and Machiganga
Indians. Trans. Conn. Academy Arts and Sciences, XXV, 1-92, April,
1921. 21 pl., map.

Harry W. Foote:

(With W. H. Buell:)

The Composition, Structure and Hardness of some Peruvian Bronze
Axes. American Journal of Science, XXXIV, 128-132, August, 1912. Illus.

Herbert E. Gregory:

The Gravels at Cuzco. American Journal of Science, XXXVI, No. 211,
15-29, July, 1913. Illus., map.

The La Paz Gorge. Ibid., XXXVI, 141-150, August, 1913. Illus.

A Geographical Sketch of Titicaca, the Island of the Sun. Bulletin of
American Geographical Society, XLV, 561-575, August, 1913. 4 pl., map.

Geologic Sketch of Titicaca Island and Adjoining Areas. American
Journal of Science, XXXVI, No. 213, 187-213, September, 1913. Illus.,

Geologic Reconnaissance of the Ayusbamba Fossil Beds. Ibid., XXXVII,
No. 218, 125-140, February, 1914. Illus., map.

The Rodadero; A Fault Plane of Unusual Aspect. Ibid., XXXVII, No. 220,
289-298, April, 1914. Illus.

A Geologic Reconnaissance of the Cuzco Valley. Ibid., XLI, No. 241,
1-100, January, 1916. Illus., maps.

Osgood Hardy:

Cuzco and Apurimac. Bulletin of American Geographical Society, XLVI,
No. 7, 500-512, 1914. Illus., map.

The Indians of the Department of Cuzco. American Anthropologist, XXI,
1-27, January-March, 1919. 9 pl.

Sir Clements Markham:

Mr. Bingham in Vilcapampa, Geographical Journal, XXXVIII, No. 6,
590-591, Dec. 1911, 1 pl.

C. H. Mathewson:

A Metallographic Description of Some Ancient Peruvian Bronzes from
Machu Picchu. American Journal of Science, XL, No. 240, 525-602,
December, 1915. Illus., plates.

P. R. Myers:

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 1911--Addendum to the
Hymenoptera-Ichneumonoidea. Proceedings of U.S. National Museum,
XLVII, 361-362, 1914.

S. A. Rohwer:

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 1911--Hymenoptera, Superfamilies
Vespoidea and Sphecoidea. Proceedings of U.S. National Museum, XLIV,
439-454, 1913.

Leonhard Stejneger:

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of 1911. Batrachians and
Reptiles. Proceedings of U.S. National Museum, XLV, 541-547, 1913.

Oldfield Thomas:

Report on the Mammalia Collected by Mr. Edmund Heller during Peruvian
Expedition of 1915. Proceedings of U.S. National Museum, LVIII,
217-249, 1920. 2 pl.

H. L. Viereck:

Results of Yale Peruvian Expedition of
1911. Hymenoptera-Ichneumonoidea. Proceedings of U.S. National Museum,
XLIV, 469-470, 1913.

R. S. Williams:

Peruvian Mosses. Bulletin of Torrey Botanical Club, XLIII, 323-334,
June, 1916. 4 pl.


[1] Many people have asked me how to pronounce Machu Picchu. Quichua
words should always be pronounced as nearly as possible as they are
written. They represent an attempt at phonetic spelling. If the attempt
is made by a Spanish writer, he is always likely to put a silent
"h" at the beginning of such words as huilca which is pronounced
"weel-ka." In the middle of a word "h" is always sounded. Machu
Picchu is pronounced "Mah'-chew Pick'-chew." Uiticos is pronounced
"Weet'-ee-kos." Uilcapampa is pronounced "Weel'-ka-pahm-pah." Cuzco is

[2] A league, usually about 3 1/3 miles, is really the distance an
average mule can walk in an hour.

[3] Fernando Montesinos, an ecclesiastical lawyer of the seventeenth
century, appears to have gone to Peru in 1629 as the follower of
that well-known viceroy, the Count of Chinchon, whose wife having
contracted malaria was cured by the use of Peruvian bark or quinine
and was instrumental in the introduction of this medicine into
Europe, a fact which has been commemorated in the botanical name
of the genus cinchona. Montesinos was well educated and appears to
have given himself over entirely to historical research. He traveled
extensively in Peru and wrote several books. His history of the Incas
was spoiled by the introduction, in which, as might have been expected
of an orthodox lawyer, he contended that Peru was peopled under the
leadership of Ophir, the great-grandson of Noah! Nevertheless, one
finds his work to be of great value and the late Sir Clements Markham,
foremost of English students of Peruvian archeology, was inclined
to place considerable credence in his statements. His account of
pre-Hispanic Peru has recently been edited for the Hakluyt Society
by Mr. Philip A. Means of Harvard University.

[4] Another version of this event is that the quarrel was over a game
of chess between the Inca and Diego Mendez, another of the refugees,
who lost his temper and called the Inca a dog. Angered at the tone and
language of his guest, the Inca gave him a blow with his fist. Diego
Mendez thereupon drew a dagger and killed him. A totally different
account from the one obtained by Garcilasso from his informants is
that in a volume purporting to have been dictated to Friar Marcos by
Manco's son, Titu Cusi, twenty years after the event. I quote from
Sir Clements Markham's translation:

"After these Spaniards had been with my Father for several years in
the said town of Viticos they were one day, with much good fellowship,
playing at quoits with him; only them, my Father and me, who was then a
boy [ten years old]. Without having any suspicion, although an Indian
woman, named Banba, had said that the Spaniards wanted to murder the
Inca, my Father was playing with them as usual. In this game, just as
my Father was raising the quoit to throw, they all rushed upon him with
knives, daggers and some swords. My Father, feeling himself wounded,
strove to make some defence, but he was one and unarmed, and they were
seven fully armed; he fell to the ground covered with wounds, and they
left him for dead. I, being a little boy, and seeing my Father treated
in this manner, wanted to go where he was to help him. But they turned
furiously upon me, and hurled a lance which only just failed to kill
me also. I was terrified and fled amongst some bushes. They looked
for me, but could not find me. The Spaniards, seeing that my Father
had ceased to breathe, went out of the gate, in high spirits, saying,
'Now that we have killed the Inca we have nothing to fear.' But at
this moment the captain Rimachi Yupanqui arrived with some Antis,
and presently chased them in such sort that, before they could get
very far along a difficult road, they were caught and pulled from
their horses. They all had to suffer very cruel deaths and some were
burnt. Notwithstanding his wounds my Father lived for three days."

Another version is given by Montesinos in his Anales. It is more like
Titu Cusi's.

[5] A Spanish derivative from the Quichua mucha, "a kiss." Muchani
means "to adore, to reverence, to kiss the hands."

[6] Uiticos is probably derived from Uiticuni, meaning "to withdraw
to a distance."

[7] Described in "Across South America."

[8] On the 1915 Expedition Mr. Heller captured twelve new species
of mammals, but, as Mr. Oldfield Thomas says: "Of all the novelties,
by far the most interesting is the new Marsupial .... Members of the
family were previously known from Colombia and Ecuador." Mr. Heller's
discovery greatly extends the recent range of the kangaroo family.

[9] Mr. Safford says in his article on the "Identity of Cohoba"
(Journal of the Washington Academy of Sciences, Sept. 19, 1916):
"The most remarkable fact connected with Piptadenia peregrina, or
'tree-tobacco' is that ... the source of its intoxicating properties
still remains unknown." One of the bifurcated tubes."in the first
stages of manufacture," was found at Machu Picchu.

[10] See the illustrations in Chapters XVII and XVIII.

[11] Since the historical Uilcapampa is not geographically identical
with the modern Vilcabamba, the name applied to this river and the old
Spanish town at its source, I shall distinguish between the two by
using the correct, official spelling for the river and town, viz.,
Vilcabamba; and the phonetic spelling, Uilcapampa, for the place
referred to in the contemporary histories of the Inca Manco.

[12] In those days the term "Andes" appears to have been very limited
in scope, and was applied only to the high range north of Cuzco where
lived the tribe called Antis. Their name was given to the range. Its
culminating point was Mt. Salcantay.

[13] Titu Cusi was an illegitimate son of Manco. His mother was not
of royal blood and may have been a native of the warm valleys.

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