Junin, calling them after the plain on which the
battle was fought.
From Junin, the road runs to the distance of eight leagues across a
difficult level height, to Cacas, a hamlet containing only a few
huts. From thence, it is continued three leagues further, through
several narrow Quebradas, and finally terminates in the beautiful
valley of Tarma.
Many of the Indians in the neighborhood of Cerro de Pasco, especially
those who dwell in the Puna, in the direction of Cacas, infest the roads
for the purpose of plunder. They conceal themselves behind the rocks,
where they lie in wait for travellers, whom they severely wound, and
sometimes even kill, by stones hurled from their slings. When great
boyas occur in the mines of the Cerro, these roads are so unsafe that it
is not prudent to travel, except in well-armed parties. The solitary
traveller who seeks a night's lodging in one of the Puna huts, exposes
himself to great peril; for the host not unfrequently assassinates his
sleeping guest. Nor is there much greater security in villages, such as
Junin and Carhuamayo. Only a few years ago, the bodies of three
travellers were found in the house of the Alcalde of Junin, the
principal authority in the village. The travellers had sought shelter
for the night, and were inhumanly murdered. Every year persons known to
have been travelling in these parts, mysteriously disappear, and there
is every reason to believe they have been murdered by the Indians. Many
of these Indians are mine laborers, who, for their incorrigible
turpitude, have been banished from the Cerro, and who live by pillage.
I will close this chapter with a brief description of four-and-twenty
hours which I passed during a journey in the wildest part of the Puna
region.
On the 12th of January, 1840, having passed 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
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