of the country, were about to assemble in the hills near Azangaro, for the discussion of some grave business; and that they were in the habit of assembling in the same way, though in different localities, every five years. The object of these assemblies was unknown-it may have been merely to converse over their ancient traditions-but it was feared, at the time, that it was for some far deeper and more momentous purpose. It is believed that similar meetings have since taken place near Chayanta in Bolivia, near Quito, and in other parts, but the strictest secrecy is preserved by the Indians themselves. The abolition of the tribute has probably had the effect of separating the Indians still more from the white and mixed races, for they used to have constant intercourse connected with the payments to the authorities, which brought them into the towns, while now they live apart in their solitary huts in the mountain fastnesses, or in distant villages.

It may be that this unhappy people, descendants of the once mighty race which, in the glorious days of the Incas, conquered and civilised half a continent, is marching slowly down the gloomy and dark road to extinction; "the fading remains of a society sinking amidst storms, overthrown and shattered by overwhelming catastrophes." But I trust that this may not be so, and that a fate less sad is still reserved for the long-suffering gentle children of the Sun.

4 In 1859 there was a very formi- | yanta, which was not put down until dable rising of the Indians in Cha- after much bloodshed. ¡

5 Humboldt.

CHAPTER XI.

JOURNEY FROM PUNO TO CRUCERO, THE CAPITAL OF CARAVAYA.

On April 7th we left Puno on the road to the chinchona forests of Caravaya. There are three modes of travelling in Peru: one by purchasing all the required mules and employing servants; the second, by hiring an arriero, or muleteer, who supplies the mules at so much for the journey; and the third, by using the wretched animals which are provided at the post-houses, and changing them at each stage, but this can only be done on the main roads. The latter way, though the least comfortable, is by far the most economical, and I therefore determined to adopt it, yet I should probably have hesitated had I known the trouble it would entail. I bought a fine mule for a hundred dollars, with the gentle paso llano, the easiest pace imaginable, for myself, and sent to the posthouse at Puno for beasts for Mr. Weir, the gardener who accompanied me, and for the baggage. Four vicious-looking brutes accordingly made their appearance, and we started; but no sooner had we reached the plain at the top of the zigzag path leading out of Puno to the north, than they all ran away in different directions, kicking violently. After hours of this kind of annoyance I at last got one of the brutes into a corner of a stone-fenced field, but, just as I was about to catch him, he gave a kick, jumped over the wall, and went off again. It ended in our having to drag the mules by their lassos until our arms were nearly torn out of the sockets; and thus we ignominiously entered the

village of Paucar-colla late in the evening, a distance of only twelve miles from Puno. As for the scenery, or the nature of the country, between Puno and Paucar-colla, I can remember nothing but vicious mules with their hind legs kicking up in the air.

Paucar-colla is built on an eminence, surrounded by broad grassy plains, which slope down to the shores of the lake of Titicaca. It consists of a few streets of mud-built, red-tiled huts, ranged round a large plaza, with a church in a dilapidated state, also of mud. At this place I saw the last of the Aymara Indians, or at least of their women, who can always be distinguished by their dress, which differs from that worn by the Inca or Quichua Indians. The Aymara women wear an uncu, or garment brought together over each shoulder, and secured in the mode of the classic Greeks, with two topus, or large pins, generally in the shape of spoons. The head-dress is a curiously-shaped, four-cornered red cap, the sides curving outwards and stiff, with black flaps suspended from it, sometimes hanging down, and at others thrown up over the top. The Quichua dress, used by the women from here as far as Cuzco, is quite different: they have a full woollen skirt, reaching down half-way between the knee and ankle; a bright-coloured lliclla, or mantle, over the shoulders, secured across the bosom by a single topu; and as a head-dress the broad-brimmed black velvet montero, with red and blue ribbons.

I left Paucar-colla early next morning, and passed by several fields of quinoa (Chenopodium quinoa), the harvest of which was just beginning. The stalks are cut and tied up in heaps, and then the grain is beaten out with sticks. It is used by the Indians in their universal dish, the chupe, and in various other ways; but it is an insipid and not very nutritious grain. Just beyond the village there is a stream called the Illpa, which, in the dry season, scarcely wets the mules' hoofs;

but at this time of year it was swollen into a broad river, and it was necessary to cross it on reed balsas, with the luggage, while the mules swam. A very large troop of mules, laden with aguardiente, was passing over at the same time—a long and tedious business. There are many streams crossing these roads, which are swollen during the rainy season, and very serious delays are thus caused for want of a few bridges. From the Illpa to Caracoto there is a broad plain extending to the shores of the lake, with the town or village of Hatuncolla on one of the last spurs of the cordillera to the west.1 This wide expanse, in the rainy season, is swampy and half submerged. It was covered with flocks and herds, with huts and out-buildings scattered over it, and surrounded by mud walls. Here and there we passed pretty little cow-girls and shepherdesses, now dressed in the Quichua, not the Aymara, costume. Some of these little maidens, as they stood by the wayside spinning wool, had such pretty faces, with the rosy colour showing through their soft, brown skins, and their figures were so graceful and dignified, that they strongly reminded me of the pictures of young Inca princesses in the churches of Santa Anna, and of the Jesuits, at Cuzco :

"La vi tan fermosa

Que apenas creyera

Que fuese vaquera
De la Finojosa."

Potatoes, quinoa, and barley were cultivated in the skirts of the hills bordering on the plain.

The village of Caracoto is at the extreme end of a long rocky spur, running out across the plain; a street of neat mud huts, with a plaza and dilapidated church. At the posthouse a child had died, which was set out on a table with candles burning before it, and the friends of the postmaster were holding a wake, singing, fiddling, and drinking. Be

1 Hatun-colla was once the capital of the great Inca province of the Collao.

tween Caracoto and the next village of Juliaca there is another swampy plain: most of the road was under water, and we encountered a heavy hail-storm. The lights and shades on the cordilleras and nearer hills, the heavy black masses of cloud in one part of the heavens, and the sun's rays breaking through in the other, were very fine. Juliaca is a small town built under a spur of the mountains, with a handsome stone church. It was Easter-Sunday, and I was invited to meet all the principal families at dinner at the house of the cura. Several Indian alcaldes were in attendance; consequential old fellows in full dress, consisting of broad-brimmed black felt hats, sober-coloured ponchos, and black breeches very open at the knees, no stockings, and usutas or sandals of llama-hide. The distinctive mark of the alcaldes, of which they are very proud, is their staff of office, with silver or brass head and ferule, and rings round it according to the number of years the owner has held office. The Indians here wear the hair in numbers of very fine plaits reaching half-way down their backs. An Indian always accompanied the post-mules from one village to another, in order to take back the return-mules; and at Juliaca, while I was quietly enjoying the cura's hospitality, the Indians took my own mule back to Caracoto, as well as the post-mules. Next morning, therefore, I sent for it, and received an answer that the postmaster knew nothing about it. I was eventually obliged, after seeing the gardener and luggage on their way to Lampa, to go back to Caracoto, where the postmaster was drunk and insolent; and at length I found it, with a troop of others, on the great plain beyond Caracoto. Several Indians took much trouble for me in catching my mule; and it was late in the afternoon before I got back to Juliaca, and was ready to set out on my journey to Lampa. I mention this incident in order to show the trouble and inconvenience of acting as one's own muleteer, although such a mode of travelling is certainly four or five times as cheap