Travels in Peru, on the Coast, in the Sierra, Across the Cordilleras and the Andes, into the Primeval Forests Part 17

I will close this chapter with a brief description of four-and-twenty hours which I pa.s.sed during a journey in the wildest part of the Puna region.

On the 12th of January, 1840, having pa.s.sed the night in the hut of a Puna shepherd, I awoke next morning at day-break. The sun was just beginning to cast a light tinge of red on the snow-capped tops of the Cordillera. Through the aperture in the roof of the hut, which served the purpose of a chimney, there penetrated a feeble light, just sufficient to show the misery and poverty that prevailed in the interior of the habitation. I rose from the resting-place on which, only a few hours previously, I had stretched myself exhausted by cold and fatigue, and raising the cow-hide, which closed the doorway of the hut, I crept out to make preparations for the continuance of my journey.

I saddled my mule, and put into one of the saddle-bags a small supply of food. Whilst I was thus engaged, one of those fierce little dogs which are domiciled in every Indian hut, slily watched my movements; and though he had rested at the foot of my bed during the night, yet he was only prevented, by the repeated threats of his master, from making an attack upon me. My Indian host handed me my gun; I paid for my night's lodging by a few reals and some paper cigars; and having asked him to direct me on my way, I rode off whilst he was expressing his grat.i.tude, and his kind wishes in the words, "_Dios lo pague!_"

The sky was overhung by a thick mist, and the snow which had fallen during the night covered the ground as far as the eye could reach. On my way I met an old Indian woman driving her sheep. The bleating flock moved slowly on, leaving a deep furrow in the snow, and seeming impatient till the genial sun should dispel the mist and dissolve the white covering which overspread their scanty pasture. A little further on I met the son of this same Indian shepherdess. He and his dog were busily engaged in catching partridges, destined to be sold on the following Sunday, in the nearest village.

My road lay along a gentle acclivity, interspersed with rocks and swamps, which often obliged me to make wide detours. The swamps (or as the natives call them, _Attoladeros_) are dangerous enemies to travellers in the Puna, who, with their horses and mules, sometimes sink into them and perish. Even in the most open parts of the country it is not easy to discern the swamps, and the ground often sinks beneath the rider where he least expects it. At length the sun began to disperse the mist, and the snow gradually melted beneath his burning rays. Inspired with new vigor, I took a survey of the wild solitude around me. I was now on one of the level heights, about 14,000 feet above the sea. On both sides arose the high Cordillera summits crowned with eternal ice; detached peaks here and there towering to the skies.

Behind me lay, deep and deeper, the dark valleys of the lower mountain regions, which, with the scarcely discernible Indian villages, receded in the distance, till they blended with the line of the horizon. Before me stretched the immeasurable extent of the level heights, at intervals broken by ridges of hills. It seemed as though here, in the snow plains of the Cordillera, Nature had breathed out her last breath. Here life and death meet together as it were to maintain the eternal struggle between being and annihilation.

How little life had the sun yet wakened around me! The dull yellow Puna gra.s.s, scarcely the length of one's finger, blended its tint with the greenish hue of the glaciers. Advancing further on my onward course, how joyfully I greeted as old acquaintance the purple gentiana and the brown calceolaria! With what pleasure I counted the yellow blossoms of the echino-cactus! and presently the sight of the ananas-cactus pictured in my mind all the luxuriance of the primeval forests. These cacti were growing amidst rushes and mosses and syngeneses, which the frost had changed to a rusty brown hue. Not a b.u.t.terfly fluttered in the rarefied atmosphere; no fly nor winged insect of any kind was discernible. A beetle or a toad creeping from their holes, or a lizard warming himself in the sun, are all that reward the search of the naturalist.

As I journeyed onward, animate life awakened in rich variety around me.

Birds, few in species, but numerous in individuals, everywhere met my view. Herds of vicunas approached me with curious gaze, and then on a sudden fled with the swiftness of the wind. In the distance I observed stately groups of huanacus turning cautiously to look at me, and then pa.s.sing on. The Puna stag (_tarush_) slowly advanced from his lair in the mountain recesses, and fixed on me his large, black, wondering eyes; whilst the nimble rock rabbits (_viscachas_) playfully disported and nibbled the scanty herbage growing in the mountain crevices.

I had wandered for some hours admiring the varieties of life in this peculiar alpine region, when I stumbled against a dead mule. The poor animal had probably sunk beneath his burthen, and had been left by his driver to perish of cold and hunger. My presence startled three voracious condors, which were feeding on the dead carca.s.s. These kings of the air proudly shook their crowned heads, and darted at me furious glances with their blood-red eyes. Two of them rose on their giant wings, and in narrowing circles hovered threateningly above my head, whilst the third, croaking fiercely, kept guard over the booty. I c.o.c.ked my gun in readiness for defence, and cautiously rode past the menacing group, without the least desire of further disturbing their banquet. These condors were the only hostile animals I encountered in this part of the Puna.

It was now two o'clock in the afternoon, and I had ridden on a continuous though gradual ascent since sunrise. My panting mule slackened his pace, and seemed unwilling to mount a rather steep ascent which we had now arrived at. To relieve him I dismounted, and began walking at a rapid pace. But I soon felt the influence of the rarefied atmosphere, and I experienced an oppressive sensation which I had never known before. I stood still for a few moments to recover myself, and then tried to advance; but an indescribable oppression overcame me. My heart throbbed audibly; my breathing was short and interrupted. A world's weight seemed to lie upon my chest; my lips swelled and burst; the capillary vessels of my eyelids gave way, and blood flowed from them. In a few moments my senses began to leave me. I could neither see, hear, nor feel distinctly. A grey mist floated before my eyes, and I felt myself involved in that struggle between life and death which, a short time before, I fancied I could discern on the face of nature. Had all the riches of earth, or the glories of heaven, awaited me a hundred feet higher, I could not have stretched out my hand towards them.

In this half senseless state I lay stretched on the ground, until I felt sufficiently recovered to remount my mule. One of the Puna storms was now gathering, thunder and lightning accompanied a heavy fall of snow, which very soon lay a foot deep on the ground. In a short time I discovered that I had missed my way. Had I then known the Puna as well as I afterwards did, I should have shaped my course by the flight of birds. But unluckily I pursued the fresh track of a herd of vicunas, which led me directly into a swamp. My mule sank, and was unable to extricate himself. I was almost in despair. Nevertheless, I cautiously alighted, and with incredible difficulty I succeeded in digging out with a dagger the mud in which the animal's legs were firmly fixed, and at length I got him back to a solid footing. After wandering about in various directions, I at length recovered the right path, which was marked by numerous skeletons protruding above the snow. These were the remains of beasts of burthen, which had perished on their journeys; a welcome, though an ominous guide to the wandering traveller. The clouds now suddenly separated, and the blazing light of the tropical sun glared dazzlingly on the white plain of snow. In a moment I felt my eyes stricken with _surumpe_.

Suffering the most violent pain, and tormented by the apprehension of blindness, I with great difficulty pursued my way. My mule could scarcely wade through the sward, which was becoming more and more thick; and night was advancing. I had lost all feeling in my feet, my benumbed fingers could scarcely hold the bridle, and I well knew that the nearest point at which I could obtain the shelter of a human habitation was eight German miles distant. I was beginning to give myself up for lost, when I observed a cave beneath an overhanging rock.

Mother Nature, in whose service I had undertaken my long and perilous wanderings, at that critical juncture, provided for me a retreat, though in one of her rudest sheltering places. I entered the cave, which protected me securely against the wind and the snow. Having unsaddled my mule, I made a bed of my saddle clothes and poncho. I tied the animal to a stone, and whilst he eagerly regaled himself with the little gra.s.s that was not buried beneath the snow, I satisfied my hunger with some roasted maize and cheese.

Exhausted by the fatigue of the day, I lay down to sleep; but no sooner had I fallen into a slumber, than I was awaked by a violent smarting in my eyes, occasioned by the _surumpe_. There was no longer any hope of sleep. The night seemed endless. When the dawn of morning appeared, I made an effort to open my eyes, which were closed with coagulated blood. On looking around me I beheld all the horror of my situation. A human corpse had served for my pillow. Shuddering I went in search of my mule, for I was eager to hurry from this dismal spot; but my misery was not yet at an end. The poor beast lay dead on the ground; in his ravenous hunger he had eaten of the poisonous _garbancillo_. What could I do! In despair I turned back to the cave.

The sun had now fully risen, and his genial rays diffused warmth over this frozen region. Somewhat roused by the reviving light and life around me, I began to examine the body of my lifeless companion. Haply, thought I, he may be one of my own race; a traveller who has perished of cold and hunger. No. He was a half-caste Indian, and many deadly wounds on his head showed that he had died of the slings of Indian robbers, who had stripped him even of his clothes, and concealed the body in the cave.

I seized my gun and shot a rock rabbit, then collecting some fuel, I kindled a fire, and roasted the little animal, which afforded me a no very savory breakfast. I then waited patiently in the hope that some timely help would deliver me from my dreary situation.

It was about noon. I heard a monotonous short cry. With joy I recognized the well-known sound. I climbed up the nearest rock, and looking down into a hollow, I perceived two Indians whom I had seen the day before, driving their llamas to the nearest mine works. I prevailed on them, by the gift of a little tobacco, to let me have one of their llamas to carry my luggage, and having strewed a few handfuls of earth on the corpse of the murdered man, I departed. The scene of the incidents above described was the Cave of Lenas, in the Altos which lead southward to the Quebrada of Huaitara.

FOOTNOTE:

[Footnote 70: A mine is said to be in _boya_ when it yields an unusually abundant supply of metal. Owing to the great number of mines in Cerro de Pasco, some of them are always in this prolific state.

There are times when the _boyas_ bring such an influx of miners to Cerro de Pasco that the population is augmented to double or triple its ordinary amount.]

[Footnote 71: Huachacas are the portions of ore which are distributed among the Indians at the time of the _boyas_, instead of their wages being paid in money.]

[Footnote 72: A shop in which chicha, brandy, &c., are vended.]

[Footnote 73: The date of Salcedo's death was May, 1669.]

[Footnote 74: Ninacaca is 12,853 feet, and Carhuamayo 13,087 feet above the sea level.]

[Footnote 75: It is also called the Laguna de Reyes, and the Laguna de Junin.]

CHAPTER XIII.

The Sierra--Its Climate and Productions--Inhabitants--Trade--Eggs circulated as money--Mestizos in the Sierra--Their Idleness and Love of Gaming and Betting--Agriculture--The Quinua Plant, a subst.i.tute for Potatoes--Growth of Vegetables and Fruits in the Sierra--Rural Festivals at the Seasons of Sowing and Reaping--Skill of the Indians in various Handicrafts--Excess of Brandy-Drinking--Chicha--Disgusting mode of making it--Festivals of Saints--Dances and Bull-Fights--Celebration of Christmas-Day, New-Year's Day, Palm Sunday, and Good Friday--Contributions levied on the Indians--Tardy and Irregular Transmission of Letters--Trade in Mules--General Style of Building in the Towns and Villages of the Sierra--Ceja de la Montana.

The Peruvian highlands, or level heights, described in a previous chapter under the designation of the Puna, are intersected by numerous valleys situated several thousand feet lower than the level heights, from which they totally differ in character and aspect. These valleys are called the Sierra. The inhabitants of Lima usually comprehend under the term Sierra, the whole interior of Peru, and every Indian who is not an inhabitant of the coast, or of the forest regions, is called by them a _Serrano_. But strictly speaking, the Sierra includes only the valleys between the Cordillera and the Andes, and I shall here use the term in its more limited and proper sense.

In the Sierra there are only two seasons throughout the year. The winter or rainy season commences in October; but the rains are neither so heavy nor so continuous as in the forest districts. The falls of rain seldom last longer than two or three days in succession. Storms of thunder and lightning are very frequent in the Sierra; they are not accompanied by snow as in the Puna, but often by hail. The thermometer never falls below +4 R., and during the daytime it is on the average at +11 R. In April the summer season sets in, bringing with it an uninterrupted succession of warm bright days. The nights in summer are colder than in winter. In a summer night the thermometer will sometimes fall below freezing point, and the cold is often very severe. About noon the heat is oppressive, though the average heat of the day does not exceed 13, 9 R. During the summer season the horizon is frequently obscured by heavy dark clouds, which seldom break over the valleys, but continue frowning over the hills. The natives call these portentous clouds _Misti Manchari_ (terror of the whites),[76] because the inhabitants of the coast always regard them as indicative of stormy weather.

The climate of the Sierra favors the natural fruitfulness of the soil, which richly repays the labor of the husbandman; but plants, peculiar to the warm tropical regions, do not thrive well here. Prior to the European emigration to Peru, only maize, quinua (_Chenopodium Quinoa_, L.), and a few tuberous roots were grown in the Sierra; but since the Spanish conquest, the European cereals, lucerne, and various kinds of vegetables are cultivated with perfect success. But the eye of the traveller seeks in vain for those stately forests which clothe the mountainous districts of Europe; the barren acclivities afford nurture only for the agave-tree, and some very large species of cactus. Groups of willow trees (_Salix Humboldtii_), which attain the height of about twenty or twenty-five feet, together with the quinua-tree, form here and there little thickets on the banks of rivers.

These regions, so favored by nature, have from the earliest period been the chosen dwelling-places of the Peruvians; and therefore in the Sierra, which, measured by its superficies, is not of very great extent, the population has increased more than in any other part of Peru. The valleys already contain numerous towns, villages, and hamlets, which would rise in importance, if they had greater facility of communication one with another. But they are surrounded on all sides by mountains, which can be crossed only by circuitous and dangerous routes. The few accessible pathways are alternately up rugged ascents, and down steep declivities; or winding through narrow ravines, nearly choked up by broken fragments of rock, they lead to the dreary and barren level heights.

The Serranos, or inhabitants of the Sierra, especially those who dwell in the smaller villages, are chiefly Indians. In the towns and larger villages, the mestizos are numerous. The whites are very thinly scattered over the Sierra; but many of the mestizos are very anxious to be thought white Creoles. A rich serrano, who bears in his features the stamp of his Indian descent, will frequently try to pa.s.s himself off to a foreigner for an old Spaniard. Here, even more than on the coast, the mestizo is ambitious to rank himself on a level with the white, whilst he affects to regard the Indian as an inferior being.

The few Spaniards who reside in the Sierra are men who have served in the Spanish army, and who, at the close of the war of independence, settled in that part of Peru. Many of them keep shops in the towns and villages, and others, by advantageous marriages, have become the possessors of haciendas. Those who have enriched themselves in this way are remarkable alike for ignorance and pride, and give themselves the most ludicrous airs of a.s.sumed dignity. The Creoles are the princ.i.p.al dealers in articles of European commerce. They journey to Lima twice or thrice a year to make their purchases, which consist in white and printed calicoes, woollen cloths, hard-wares, leather, soap, wax, and indigo. In the Sierra, indigo is a very considerable article of traffic: the Indians use a great quant.i.ty of it for dyeing their clothes; blue being their favorite color. Wax is also in great demand; for in the religious ceremonies, which are almost of daily occurrence, a vast quant.i.ty of tapers is consumed. The princ.i.p.al articles of traffic produced by the natives are woollen ponchos and blankets, unspun colored wool, saddle-cloths, stirrups and horseshoes. The last-named articles are purchased chiefly by the arrieros of the coast. It may seem strange that stores of horseshoes should be kept ready made; but so it is; for though in Europe we make the shoe to fit the hoof, yet in Peru it is the practice to cut the hoof to fit the shoe. On Yca brandy more money is expended than on every other article of trade combined. The quant.i.ty of that spirit annually transported to the Sierra exceeds belief. To see the Indians on Sundays and festival days thronging to the shops of the spirit dealers, with their jugs and bottles, one might fairly presume that more brandy is drunk in the Sierra in one day, than in many of the towns of Europe in a year. In some parts--for example, in the province of Jauja--hens' eggs are circulated as small coin, forty-eight or fifty being counted for a dollar. In the market-place and in the shops the Indians make most of their purchases with this brittle sort of money: one will give two or three eggs for brandy, another for indigo, and a third for cigars. These eggs are packed in boxes by the shop-keepers, and sent to Lima. From Jauja alone, several thousand loads of eggs are annually forwarded to the capital.

Most of the mestizos possess little estates (_chacras_), the produce of which, consisting of grain, vegetables and clover, is disposed of in the towns of the Sierra, or in the mining districts of the Puna. As the profits arising from the chacras usually suffice to provide their owners with a comfortable subsistence, the mestizos pa.s.s their lives in idleness and pleasure. They spend the chief portion of the day in the true Spanish style, gossiping in groups in the streets, and wrapped in their mantles. When the state of the weather does not admit of this sort of out-door lounging the time is pa.s.sed in gaming or c.o.c.k-fighting. This latter diversion is no less in favor in the Sierra than in Lima. Such enormous bets are laid at these c.o.c.k-fights, that the losses frequently entail ruin on persons of tolerably good fortune.

The agriculture of the Sierra is wholly consigned to the Indians, who either cultivate their own lands, or for very poor wages labor for the mestizos. In September, the ground is ploughed and prepared for sowing, which operation is performed in October, and the reaping takes place in April or May. By this means the seed is left in the ground throughout all the rainy season. In February violent frost frequently comes on during the night, by which the seed is so much injured that the harvest fails, and the scarcity occasions severe suffering and even famine. When the cold clear nights create apprehensions of damage to the seed, the people form themselves into processions, and go through the villages and towns imploring the mercy of Heaven. In the dead of the night it is no unusual thing to be aroused by the ringing of bells. The inhabitants then get up and hurry to church, where the solemn processions are formed. Penitents clothed in sackcloth go through the streets, scourging themselves; and the Indians, in their native language, utter prayers and offer up vows to Heaven. For the s.p.a.ce of some hours an incessant movement and agitation pervade the streets, and when day begins to dawn the people return to their homes, trembling between hope and fear. The fate of the Indians, when their harvest fails them, is indeed truly miserable, for, abstemious as they are, they can scarcely procure wherewith to satisfy their hunger. In the year 1840, which was a period of scarcity, I saw the starving Indian children roaming about the fields, and eating the gra.s.s like cattle.

Maize is the species of grain most extensively cultivated in the Sierra: it is of excellent quality, though smaller than that grown on the coast.

Wheat, though it thrives well, is cultivated only in a very limited quant.i.ty, and the bread made from it is exceedingly bad. The other species of European grain, barley excepted, are unknown to the Serranos.

To compensate for the want of them, they have the quinua (_Chenopodium Quinoa_, L.), which is at once a nutritious, wholesome, and pleasant article of food. The leaves of this plant, before it attains full maturity, are eaten like spinach; but it is the seeds which are most generally used as food. They are prepared in a variety of ways, but most frequently boiled in milk or in broth, and sometimes cooked with cheese and Spanish pepper. The dried stems of the quinua are used as fuel.

Experiments in the cultivation of this plant have been tried in some parts of Germany, and with considerable success. It would appear, however, that its flavor is not much liked; a circ.u.mstance rather surprising to the traveller who has tasted it in Peru, where it is regarded in the light of a delicacy. It were to be wished that the general cultivation of the quinua could be introduced throughout Europe; for during the prevalence of the potatoe disease this plant would be found of the greatest utility. It is a well-known fact that potatoes and tea, two articles now in such universal use, were not liked on their first introduction into Europe. The quinua plant, which yields a wholesome article of food, would thrive perfectly in our hemisphere, and, though in its. .h.i.therto limited trial it has not found favor, there is no reason to conclude that it may not at a future time become an object of general consumption.

Four kinds of tuberous plants are successfully cultivated in the Sierra; viz., the potatoe, the ulluco, the oca, and the mashua. Of potatoes there are several varieties, and all grow in perfection. The ulluco (_Tropaeolum tuberosum_) is smaller than the potatoe, and is very various in its form, being either round, oblong, straight, or curved. The skin is thin, and of a reddish-yellow color, and the inside is green. When simply boiled in water it is insipid, but is very savory when cooked as a _picante_. The oca (_Oxalis tuberosa_) is an oval-shaped root; the skin pale red, and the inside white. It is watery, and has a sweetish taste; for which reason it is much liked by the Peruvians. The mashua is the root of a plant as yet unknown to botanists. It is cultivated and cooked in the same manner as those already described. In form, however, it differs from them all. It is of a flat pyramidal shape, and the lower end terminates in a fibrous point. It is watery, and insipid to the taste; but is nevertheless much eaten by the Serranos. As the mashua roots will not keep, they are not transported from the places in which they are grown, and, therefore, are not known in Lima. The Indians use the mashua as a medicine: they consider it an efficacious remedy in cases of dropsy, indigestion, and dysentery.

The vegetables and fruits of Europe thrive luxuriantly in the warm Sierra valleys; yet but few of them have been transplanted thither, and those few are but little esteemed. Some of the cabbage and salad species, together with onions, garlic, and several kinds of pulse, are all that are cultivated. It is remarkable that in these regions no indigenous fruit-trees are to be seen. The only fruit really belonging to the Sierra is the Tuna. In some of the sheltered ravines, or, as they are called, Quebradas, oranges, lemons, and granadillas flourish at the height of 10,000 feet above sea level. The fruits which have been transplanted from Europe are for the most part indifferent, as not the least care is bestowed on their cultivation. The effect of this neglect is particularly obvious in apples, pears, and damson-plums. Cherries and chestnuts are unknown in these parts; but on the other hand, peaches and apricots (_duraznos_) grow in amazing abundance, and many very fine species are found, especially in the southern provinces. Excursions to the _duraznales_ (apricot gardens), in the months of April and May, to eat the ripe fruit fresh plucked from the trees, are among the most favorite recreations of the Serranos. Some of the Sierra districts are celebrated throughout Peru for their abundance of fruit. This luxuriance is particularly remarkable in several of the deep valleys, for instance, in Huanta; but, strictly speaking, these deep valleys partake less of the character of the Sierra than of the higher forest regions.

The periods of sowing and reaping are celebrated by the Indians with merry-making, a custom which has descended from the time of the Incas, when those periods corresponded with the two great divisions of the year. Even a scanty harvest, an event of frequent occurrence, occasions no interruption to these rustic festivals. Bands of music, consisting of trumpets, fiddles, and flutes, play whilst the corn is cut down, and during their work, the laborers freely regale themselves with chicha, huge barrels of which are placed for their unrestrained use. The consequence is, that they are almost continually intoxicated; and yet whilst in this state it is no unusual thing to see them dancing with heavy loads of sheaves on their heads. Their dinner is cooked in the fields, in large pots and kettles, and to partake of it they all sit down on the ground in rows, one behind another. The wheat and barley when cut are spread out in little heaps on the ground, and, instead of thras.h.i.+ng, the grain is pressed out of the ears by the tramping of horses, the animals being driven round and round in a circle. As soon as this process is ended, the agents of the Government and the priests make their appearance to claim the t.i.thes.

In the larger villages and towns of the Sierra, the Indians frequently employ themselves in handicrafts, in some of which they attain a high degree of perfection, for they are not wanting either in talent or in mechanical dexterity. As goldsmiths they are remarkably skilful, and in this branch of industry they produce work which, for taste and exquisite finish, cannot be excelled in the capitals of Europe. The various kinds of vessels and figures of silver wire (_filigranas_), made by the cholos in Ayacucho, have always been favorite articles of ornament in Spain. The Indians of Jauja are very skilful in working iron, and the objects of their workmans.h.i.+p are much esteemed throughout Peru. Of leather also they make various things in very beautiful style; and saddle-cloths, bridles, &c., of their manufacture are much more elegant and infinitely cheaper than those made in Lima. In Cuzco and the adjacent provinces many of the Indians evince considerable talent in oil-painting. Their productions in this way are, of course, far from being master-pieces; but when we look on the paintings which decorate their churches, and reflect that the artists have been shut out from the advantages of education and study; and moreover, when we consider the coa.r.s.e materials with which the pictures have been painted, it must be acknowledged that they indicate a degree of talent, which, if duly cultivated, would soar far above mediocrity. In Tarma and its neighborhood the natives weave an exquisitely fine description of woollen cloth. They make ponchos of vicuna wool, which sell for 100 or 120 dollars each, and which are equal to the finest European cloth.

The beauty of these Indian textures is truly wonderful, considering the rude process of weaving practised by the natives. They work various colors, figures, and inscriptions in the cloth, and do all this with a rapidity which equals the operations of ordinary looms.

The most valuable textures they weave are those produced from the wool of the vicuna and the alpaco. They likewise make very fine textures of cotton and silk. It is curious that the Indians of each province have some particular branch of industry to which they exclusively apply themselves, to the neglect of all others.

The Serranos are a very sociable people. In the towns they keep up a continual round of evening parties, in which singing and dancing are favorite amus.e.m.e.nts; but on these occasions they indulge in brandy-drinking to a terrible excess. As soon as a party is a.s.sembled, bottles and gla.s.ses are introduced, and each individual, ladies as well as gentlemen, drinks to the health of the company. For a party of thirty or more persons, not more than three or four gla.s.ses are brought in, so that one gla.s.s is pa.s.sed repeatedly from hand to hand, and from mouth to mouth. The quant.i.ty of brandy drunk at one of the evening parties called in the Sierra _Jaranas_, is almost incredible. According to my observation, I should say that a bottle to each individual, ladies included, is a fair average estimate, the bottles being of the size of those used in Europe for claret. In the year 1839, whilst I was residing for a time in one of the largest towns of the Sierra, a ball was given in honor of the Chilian General Bulnes; on that occasion the brandy flowed in such quant.i.ties, that, when morning came, some members of the company were found lying on the floor of the ball-room in a state of intoxication. These facts naturally create an impression very unfavorable to the inhabitants of the Sierra; but a due allowance must be made for the want of education and the force of habit on the part of those who fall into these excesses. These people possess so many excellent moral qualities, that it would be unjust to condemn them solely on account of these orgies. The Serrano is far from being addicted to habitual drunkenness, notwithstanding his intemperate use of strong drinks amidst the excitement of company.

But if the vice of excessive drinking be occasionally indulged in among the better cla.s.s of people of the Sierra, it is much more frequent among the Indian inhabitants. Every one of their often-recurring festivals is celebrated by a drinking bout, at which enormous quant.i.ties of brandy and chicha are consumed. In some districts of the Sierra the chicha is prepared in a peculiar and very disgusting manner by the Indians.

Instead of crus.h.i.+ng the _jora_ (dried maize-grain) between two stones, which is the usual method, the Indians bruise it with their teeth. For this purpose a group of men and women range themselves in a circle round a heap of _jora_; each gathers up a handful, chews it, and then ejects it from the mouth into a vessel allotted for its reception. This ma.s.s, after being boiled in water, and left to ferment, is the much admired _chicha mascada_ (that is to say, _chewed chicha_), the flavor of which is said to surpa.s.s that of the same beverage made in any other way. But they who have been eye-witnesses of the disgusting process, and who bear in mind various other preparations of Indian cookery in which the teeth perform a part, require some fort.i.tude ere they yield to the pressing invitation of the hospitable Serrano, and taste the proffered nectar.

When it is wished to make the chicha particularly strong and well flavored, it is poured into an earthen jar along with several pounds of beef. This jar is made perfectly air-tight, and buried several feet deep in the ground, where it is left for the s.p.a.ce of several years. On the birth of a child it is customary to bury a _botija_ full of chicha, which, on the marriage of the same child, is opened and drunk. This chicha has a very agreeable flavor, but is so exceedingly potent, that a single gla.s.s of it is sufficient to intoxicate a practised chicha-drinker, or, as they say in the country, a _chichero_.

Every village in the Sierra has its own tutelary saint, whose festival is celebrated with great solemnity. Bull-fights and dances const.i.tute the princ.i.p.al diversions on these occasions. These dances are relics of the _Raymi_ or monthly dances, by which the Incas used to mark the divisions of time; and they are among the most interesting customs peculiar to these parts of Peru. The dancers wear dresses similar to those worn by the ancient Peruvians when they took part in the _Raymi_.

Their faces and arms are painted in various colors, and they wear feather caps and feather ponchos. They have bracelets and anklets, and they are armed with clubs, wooden swords, and bows and arrows. Their music, too, is also similar to that of their forefathers. Their instruments consist of a sort of pipe or flute made of reed, and a drum composed simply of a hoop with a skin stretched upon it. To the inharmonious sound of these instruments, accompanying monotonous Quichua songs, the dances commence with those solemn movements with which the Incas used to wors.h.i.+p the sun: they then suddenly a.s.sume a more joyous character, and at last change to the wild war-dance, in which the mimic contest, stimulated by copious libations of chicha, frequently ends in a real fight. In the larger towns, where the Mestizo portion of the population predominates, these dances are discouraged, and in course of time they will probably be entirely discontinued, though they are scrupulously adhered to by the Indians.

On festival days, bull-fights const.i.tute the most favorite popular diversion. In the Sierra this barbarous sport is conducted with even more recklessness and cruelty than in the _Corridas_ of Lima. Every occasion on which an entertainment of this sort takes place is attended with loss of life, and sometimes the sacrifice both of men and horses is very considerable. During my residence in Jauja, fourteen Indians and nineteen horses were killed or seriously wounded in a bull-fight; yet catastrophes of this kind appear to make no impression on the people.