/ / ,' / / *^^ v--'*^ ;■ i'Sf^^k (' '^*.-':. f ! r W'A' A :<^^ TRAVELS IN TROPTCAL LANDS. C'AL'A'i IN ri;IM|i.\ll. IN TROPICAL LAN])S: TRcccnt travels TO THE SOURCES OF T H K AMAZON, THE WEST INDIAN ISLANDS, AND CE^ LOX. BY ARTHTR SIXCLAIll (KKI-Li)\V (IK TIIK UOYAL lOLuXlAL ISSilTlTE, MKMl-.KK OK TIIF AllKIMiKKX !• 11 1 I. n S O P III C A I, SOCIKTV. KTC). ■ I'aUiiiit-: ami >(.• >liall lu'.-ir "lial In- lu'lifhl III otlKT laiiils, wliL'i-u lie was (Iniiiii il I" f;i>." Hiiriiii. ai;ki;1)i:i:n : d. \\a i.uk a son : KDiNr.rKcii : .ii>ii\ mi;n/iks .v o).-. LONDON: ^I.M1'KIN, M\i;s|IAI,L, \ «'•>.; (K V I.o N : A. .M. .. TO Till; liKAK >Il■;MllK^ OK Dr. William Alexander, Km: Til 1 K r\-SEVEN VKAKS THK w A i; M \Ni) sTKADKAsr ruii;\i> OK THK ATTHOK. 203 PREFATORY NOTE. To tlu' I'eruvian Corporation's Representative, who so admii- abl}' plays a very important and difficult part in Lima, I have to express gratitude for kindness, especially in obtaining facilities for the exploration of regions hitherto but little known. To my fellow-travellers, Messrs. A. Ross and P. D. U. Clark, whose urbanity and resourcefulne.ss smoothed many a difficulty during an arduous journey through the upper valleys of the Amazon, my best acknowledgments are due. The keen enthusiasm for economic botany evinced b\' Mr. Clark proved very helpful, and in the following pages the result of our researches is duly dealt with. In tlie West Indies I was indebted to His Excellency the CJovernor of Grenada, and also to Mr. Hart, the Superin- tendent of the Botanical Gardens, Trinidad, for much courtesy and valuable information. For the more recent facts and figures relative to Ceylon, I owe thanks to the encyclopaedic editor of the ('cylon Observer, the stanchest friend I ever made in tropical lands. ARTliril SIXCLAIH. Mkadiiwhank, AuKKKKKN, Jnnnaii/, Is'.l.'i. CONTENTS. PriEFATOitV NoTK, Map .Showing Route, Peru — En Route, t'anaina, (Crossing the Coidilleras, Amongst the Chunchos, On the Perene, . Cerio de Pasco, . Hiianaco, . The Return Jouiney, Lima, The Bull Fight, The Chinese Immigrants, Altitudes of Stations Visited, Flora, .... TiiK Wkst Indian Islands — The Bahamas, . Jamaicti, .... Ti iiiiilad, .... (irenada, .... Ceylon — En Route, .... Red Sea Romances, . Colombo, .... The Coffee Kra in Ceylon, The Tea Era, Life in Ceylon, . Story of British (.)ceu|)}ition. The Planters— Typical Failures, The Story of Davie Haeket, Indkx, ...... H.VGK. iii. between pages (i & 9 19 28 33 51 64 67 74 82 90 104 1U5 ll!i Ii'l I2r) 144 US I4!l ir.3 lli7 171 I7.S 177 177 It)! IN TEOPICAL LANDS. PERU. There are three routes uvailable from Eui'ope to Peru — the most diiect, after crossing the Atlantic, heing up the Amazon ; the most comfortable, by the Straits of Magellan ; and the quickest, via the Isthmus of Panama. To save time, let us choose the last. One advantage of this route is, that it gives us a peep, in passing, at the islands of Barbadoes and Jamaica — the two oldest and most valualile of our West Indian possessions. Baibadoes is only 166 square miles in extent, but every acre is cultivated, chiefly in sugar-cane, and, al- together, the best cultivated little tropical colony I have come across. It is densely populated, chiefly by negroes, who look much happier and better oft" than the " pooi- whites." The English language oidy is spoken — spoken with a terrific fluency and an unmistakable Irish brogue. b'eaders of Carlyle's "Cromwell" will not be at a loss to account for this, remembering how Oliver sent so many of his refractory Irishmen there. "Terrible Protector!" exclaims the Sage, " can take your estate, your head off if he likes. He dislikes sheddiiig blood, ])ut is very apt to Barbadoes an uiu'uly man ; has sent, and sends up in hundreds to Barbadoes, so that we have made an active Aerb of it — Barbadoes you." Again, ill one of the Protector's characteristic ej)i-c seen. Kingston, the capital. IN TBOPICAL LANDS. PERU. There are three routes jivailable from Europe to Peru — the most direct, after crossing the Atlantic, ))eing up the Amazon ; the most comfortable, by the Straits of Magellan ; and the quickest, via the Isthmus of Panama. To save time, let us choose the last. One advantage of this route is, that it gives us a peep, in passing, at the islands of Barbadoes and Jamaica — the two oldest and most valual)le of our West Indian possessions. Barbadoes is only 106 square miles in extent, but every acre is cultivated, chiefly in sugar-cane, and, al- together, the best cultivated little tropical colony I have come across. It is densely })opulated, chiefly hy negroes, who look much hap[)ier and better oflT than the " poor whites." The English language only is spoken — spoken with a terrific fluency and an unmistakable Irish brogue. K'eaders of Carlyle's "Cromwell" will not be at a loss to account for this, remembering how Oliver sent so many of his refractory liishmen there. "Terrible Protector!" exclaims the Sage, " can take yoiu' estate, your head oft" if he likes. He dislikes .shedding blood, but is very apt to Barbadoes an unruly man ; has sent, and sends up in hundreds to Barbadoes, so that we have made an active verb of it — -Barbadoes you." Again, in one of the Protector's characteristic epistles, we read that 1,000 Irish girls were sent, "and as tt) the rogue and vagabond species in Scotland, we can help you at any time to a few hundreds of these " An Irish fellow-passenger, hearing his own language so well accented, eiujuired of a Baibadoes negro working at Jamaica, " How loTig have you been here?' " Xoine years," was the reply. " Be jabbers,"' said my friend, " if you 've got black like that in noine years, it 's high time I were oft" home again.'" Jamaica has a magnificttit li;ubut we must now resume our voyage for about 100 miles further along the coast, our next port of call being Chimbote, at the mouth of the i-iver Santa, the largest Peruvian river on the western side of the Andes. This was the furthest point reached by Pizarro on his first memorable voyage of discovery. He was satisfied with what he had seen, that the country was not only worth the conquest, but rich beyonil liis w ildcst dreams, and from here he was induced to return to tell the story of his adventures to his avaricious masters. I>ut, however prosperous the district of Santa may have then been. Chimhote : Inca Remains : C'allao. 15 it is now a poor, abandoned place, and yet, with such an am[)lc supply of water, it might vie with the richest spots on the coast of Peru in productiveness. As it is, it is chiefly interesting to the antiquarian. The remains of Inca roads rival anything the Komans ever built in Britain, and there are also the marvellous aqueducts, and more paiticularly the hauchas, or mounds, scattered over the country at irregular intervals. When opened these hauchas prove to be burial-places ; and beside the bones curious pottery is often found, chiefly water l)ottles, of which I secured a number of s})ecimens. The chief enterprise of the place consists in despoiling the graves of the ancient In- cas. The bay of Chimbote it- self is remark- able as the best sheltered bay on the coast of Peru, protected by a semi-circle of rocky islands which, though here lacking the vegetation which adorns the islands around the Bay of Panama, supply the means of vegttation to many an unfertile spot on the earth's surface. 8ea-lions, which .startled us with their roar as we were coming ashore, and myriads of seals, frequent these islands, daily basking in the sun. It is their refuse, and not the refuse of birds, as generally supposed, that forms the bulk of Peruvian guano. We make no further calls till we reach Callao, tlie cliief com- mercial port of Peru, where, however, in the most uncommercial-like way we were kept waiting two hours for the caj^tain of the port, who was supposed to be at a cock fight. Our own dignified old W ATEl; BOTTLKS English salt is a Christian gentleman and not a swearing man. but as he nervously paced the bridge he looked so uncommonly like a man whom an "aith" would relieve that I wuuld not have ventured near him had he not beckoned on me. " You are now leaving us," he brusquely said, "and will be coming in contact with Pt'iiiviim IG Travels in Tropical Lavds. officials ; my advice is, never believe one word they say, even supposing they should swear to it on a cartload of Bibles." A warning, I regret to remark, which proved not altogether unnecessary. Callao has no special interest for us, with its (juays and wharf.-, ugly warehouses, and polyglot population ; it is like any otlier seaport town, and as Lima is only seven miles distant we prefer to pass on at once. And now, Avhen in the capital, I am afraid I shall disappoint you, for I am not fond of cities; my heart longs always for the quiet country beyond. A simple man, my tastes lie among the simple people on the mountains, or in culling the common weeds by the wayside. I cannot, therefore, enter here into any detailed description of Lima, which at one time, we are told, was considered the gem of South America, and though now somewhat sullied, is still beautiful ; picturesquely situated, with a climate aluiost perfect, the sun rarely scorching, and the rains never bedraggling the inhabitants. The two chief characteristics of the city are perhaps its mag- nificent churches, more than seventy in number, and its great l)ull ring, Fla.~a de Acho, where over ten thousand weekly witness and applaud the cowardly slaughter of poor helpless animals. From the churches we might, perhaps, with advantage take one little lesson, they are always open from 4 a.m. till 10 or 11 p.m., while here, in Scotland, we build, liy a supreme effort, substantial kirks and then lock them uj) for 312 days in the year. Foreigners laugh at this, and I do think there are few greater absurdities to be seen in any other part of the world. The population of Lima may be about 130,000, but no one knows exactly, as they have not succeeded in taking a census for many years. The last attempt showed something like eight ladies to every man, and the ladies are as famous for their beauty and energy as the men are for their feebleness. The marriages seem only to iiunil)er about S.") per ainuun, or less than 1 per 1,000, not a very })rospei'ous sign. Now for the hills. By rail to Chicla, 87 miles, thence on mule- l>ack. This railway, it will be remembered, is, without any excejition, the highest in the world, and the engineering the most audacious. "We know of no difficulties," the consulting engineer said to me; " we would hang the mils from balloons if necessary ! " When rather more than half-way to Chicla we reach Matucana station, at an altitude uf 7,788 feet above sea level, and here we Matucann : Farnillar Friend-^. 1 resulred to sto}) for two days in order to get accustomed to tlie rarified air. But we were uot idle. Procuring mules, we proceeded to ascend the surrounding mountains. Matucana may be described as a village of 250 inhabitants, situated at the bottom of a basin only a few hundred yards wide, but widening out to 50 miles at the uppei' rim, which is covered with snow. The hills rise at an angle of from 45 degrees to 75 degrees, and the so-called roads are really a terror to think of. In the distance the mountains of Peru, or the Andes, look as bleak and barren as Aden, and most globe trotters who take a passing glimpse at them .say they are so : but such is not the case. I have not yet seen an acre upon which the botanist might not revel, and but for the fact that I had to watch with constant dread the feet of my mule, I have never spent a more intensely interesting afternoon than I did during this memorable ride. Up, up, we went, zig-zagging on paths often not more than IS inches wide, and sloping over chasms that made one blind to look down. Speak o' "loupin' owre a linn " ! here is a chance for any lovesick Duncan I But, oh 1 the flowers, the sweet flowers 1 who could pass these unheeded ? So many old friends, too, in all the glory of their own native home, to welcome us, and indicate the altitude more correctly than any of our aneroids. First comes the heliotrope, scenting the HKLITKlil'UM I'F.RIVIAM M. air with its massive blue clusters. AliEllATlM. So diflerent from the straggling e.Kotic in Britain or the leafy, lanky, plant in India. This grows in the greatest perfection and profusion to about 8,000 feet above sea level ; then come miles of l»right yellow calceolarias, intermixeil so prettily with biiliiant led and blue salvias, every vacancy apparently 18 Travels in Tropical Lands. filled up with lovely little lobelias, curious cupheas, and creeping solanums, while our old enemy in India, the agcratum, everywhere intruded its white thrummy head. Suddenly all is changed, and hundreds of acres of the most beautiful blue lupine covers the ground; this grows up to 14,000 feet, and then gives way for the CUPHEA PLATYCENTRA. «?^;aM»' LOBELIA ERINUS. anemone, sedum, and dandelion, which dispute with the snow the limit of 15,000. We were contented, however, on this occasion to reach about 13,000 feet, and, "sair forfochen " as we were, eagerly accepted the invitation of a Cholo Indian to enter his hut ; and here let me say that my ignorant prejudices against the Indian changed LII'INS. STOCK. at once as I looked u})on this evidently happy and most hospitable family. The best they had was placed before us, and one sweet lassie, seeing we weie fond of flowers, disappeared into a tidy little garden ;ni(l brought us such bouquets as I had rarely seen. Imagine Crossing the Cordilleras. 19 real red roses, stock, fuchsias, sweet peas, gladiola, &c., mixed with sprigs of fennel ! I could not help contrasting this delightful recep- tion with what I had sometimes seen amongst more pretentious l^eople. We next halted at Chicla : altitude, 12,215 feet above sea level. A dreary enough spot, where passengers not infrequently get their first experience of sorroche, or mountain sickness, caused by the rarified air, the disagreeable symptoms being headache, vomiting, and bleeding at the ears and nose, the only cure being a greater atmospheric presssure. Horses and mules from the low country frecjuently drop down dead here from failure of the heart's action. Leaving Chicla, the real tug of war begins ; the crest of the Cordil- leras has to be encountered and crossed. A wretched road, made worse by the debris from the railway, which, for the first fifteen miles, we saw being constructed still far above us, the navvies hung over the clifts by ropes, looking like venturesome apes. Higher and still higher goes this extraordinary zig-zagging railway, boring into the bowels of the mountains and emerging again at least a dozen times before it takes its final plunge for the eastern side of the Andes. Meanwhile, we continue our scramble to the top of the ridge, 17,000 feet above sea level. I have no desire to magnify the difficulties and dangers of this tedious ride. The great (piestion is — What do we see when we get there ? This I cannot Avell magnify. It is not a case of merely going up one side of a range, like the Grampians, and down the other, but there is now before us a tableland as far as the best eyes can reach and ten times further, with its hills and dales, lochs and rivers, more than equal in extent to Great Britain itself, at an average height of al)out l."^,000 feet above sea level. Viewing this plateau from here, we have spread out before us a region un- like anything we have ever before seen, far above the rest of the world, upon the cares and troubles of which it looks down with calm, if cold, indifterence, sharing none of its alarms, aiul seldom indeed disturbed by the insane political broils of the lower regions. The clear sky above, the occasional clouds chasing cacii «^'^' SALVIA AUGENTKA. :^0 TntveU in Tropical LancU other up from tlie vulley of the Amazon, only to be dissipated on the snowy peaks which they cannot possibly pass, above all the glorious sun, so welcome a benefactor here, that we can no longer marvel that it was the great object of worship by the Inca. And all this bleak but most interesting region has to be traversed before beginning our descent into the promised land beyond, the real basin of the great Amazon, for which we are now bound, a region which even the Inca in the plenitude of his power never subdued, and, Ave are assured, no living Peruvian has penetrated. It would be tedious were I to describe too minutely the ride of the next few days over the great grassy puna. Here is the home of the gentle llama, a sort of link between the camel and the sheep, the wool of which is so much appreciated ; the paco also, which supplies the world with alpaca ; and their more timid relative, the vicuna, with wool still more valuable. Here and thei^e we come upon the remains of roads and crumbling ruins, indicating a civilisation which may date back thousands of years, even before the advent of the Inca. Of human inhabitants there are now comparatively few, but such as there are, are interesting specimens of sturdy little High- landers. The women, particularly, are admirable examples of a hardy, industrious race. No finer female peasantry in the world, I should say. The chief town of this region is Tarma, about 200 miles inland, altitude 9,800 feet, poi)ulation about 8,000. We stayed for some days here, greatly enjoying its splendid climate— a paradise for consum{)tive patients. Excellent wheat and barley are grown here. This is also the home of the potato, it having been cultivated here as carefully as it now is in Europe, perhaps hundreds of years before America was discovered by Europeans. " Papa " they are still called, being the old Inca name of the tuber ; and the (piality is fully ec^ual to the best we have produced here ; more- over, they have some varieties better than any of ours, one of which I hope to introduce to Scotland. It was in the end of Jul}', 1891, that one fine morning (every morning is hue here), we managed to nuister our retinue, and make a fair start for the famous low country. The peculiar vegetation on the steep iiioiiiilain slopes — more grotesque than beautiful— betokens a comparatively dry climate all the year round. Such expanses of gigantic cacti and broad-leaved agave we had not before seen, and prior to the age of mineral dyes, fortunes might have been made hero in cocliiiioal ; as they still might l)e, by Acohamha : Deserted Villages. 21 OO.NX'ULVLLVS. .•uiy enterprising agriculturist who would devote his attention to fibres. The resplendent flowers of the cacti were just closing as the morning sunbeams fell across their brilliant petals, and we, too, were soon reminded that we were in the tropics, and were glad to hug closely the little belt of trees which shaded the lower side of the Avinding path. Here a watercourse carries grate- ful moisture to the Alfalfa (Lucerne) fields below. The banks of this little watercourse are a delightful study. 1 can scarcely express the pleasure I had in recognising so many old familiar friends. The trees were chiefly alder and buddlea ; the former, our " ain arn," the latter, with its silvery leaf, a well-known native of 1 eru. Here also are veri- table bourtree bushes ; there a line of the beautiful Peruvian willow named after the illustrious Hum- boldt. Nor can we pass without recognition the sweet little flowers that clothe the margin of the rippling stream. The yellow calceo- laria, ever ready to assert its nativity, blended with the blue salvia and ageratums, various vincas, passion flowers, solanum, and thun- bergias, all so familiar and all so much at home here, gave a peculiar charm to this morning's ride. We halted for breakfast at Acobamba, only six miles from Tarma, from which we had been I'ather late in starting. Acobamba is a beauti- fully situated but decaying hamlet, with about 1,500 rather seedy-looking inhabitants, where nut loner a"0 there had been more than double that luiniber; and evidently destined before long to become another deserted " Sweet Auburn," of wliiili this grand Sjtanish colony furnishes so many sad examples. Here already " Half the bu.siness of destruction '.s done." Every second house is in luins, and what had doulitloss once been trimly kept gardens, " .AihI still wlifii' many a ijai(lt.n IIhwit •rrows wild, " CAXNA. •>•> Travels in Tropical Lands. a as re now scenes of desolation. Mot without its interest, however, and s one curious in such matters, I accomi)lished the feat of scrambling through tho straggling fence " unprofitably gay," and I dare confess explored the wild spot with more real pleasure than I would look upon well-clipped bushes. Beneath a jungle of real red roses were violets scenting the morning air, and many other exotics as far from home as myself, including the gaudy geranium, southernwood, and costmary — bachelors' buttons — " The f?olden rod, and tansy running high, That o'er the fence top smiles on passers by." How tliey came there is a question we leave to others. Buxom women squat under the trees, industriously weaving, on the most primitive of looms, the cloth of which their husbands' jjonchos and trousers are made, while their lords, such as they are, may be seen loafing in crowds round the drinking bars on the Plaza. The tipple here is apjiropriately called "chicha," made from fermented maize, and similar to the ale from which raw grain whisky is distilled. By no means a very deadly poison, " for," said our host, " these people live to a great age, 110 to 120 years being not unusual "—but then I daresay there is no Dr. Cramond* in Acobamba. The padre, we are told, not unfrequently joins his flock in their drunken orgies ; indeed, the so-called Church festivals seem to have degenerated into blasphemous ribaldry, enough to make one shudder. It is the boast of the proud Spaniard that he has at least given the l^eruvians a language and a religion. The language may be all right, liut we cannot congratulate them upon their religion, and who will dare to say that it would not have been better for them had they still been speaking their native quichiui, and reverently saluting the "lorious rising sun as they wended their way to work in their well- tilled fields as in the olden time when industry formed part of their religion. I have perhaps lingered rather longer over Acobamba than the reader could have wished, l)ut it is the last remnant of a decaying village I shall at present have to notice, for with the exception of a half-deserted hamlet called Palca, a few miles further on, we see little more of the homes of the mountain Cholos during our present journey. The gorge, along Avhich our road threads its way, now izradually narrows, a gurgling little torrent runs at the bottom, and * A famous detector of would-be centenarians in the North. Huacajyistana : Chanchamayo. 23 the presence of half-hardy httle shrubs, groAviiig without irrigation, shows that the tail end of many a tropical shower must now reach this limit. Amongst the native plants here, may l)e noted the beautiful trailing rubus and the moimina : the bark of the root of this plant is used for soap, and the Peruvian ladies archly ascribe the beauty of their hair to the use of it. Amongst other plants there are many brilliant billbergias, nightshades, &c. We were now 30 miles from Tarma. The ravine gets narrower and more dismal looking, and, as the sun has already sunk behind the mountains, we decided to halt for the night at a })lace called Huacapistana, where there is a very miserable hovel in which be- nighted travellers are invited to rest ; but such were the surroundings, and so strange were the bed- fellows, that of that weary night I have .still leather more than a hazy recollection of lying watching mv companion trying to sleep with a loaded revolver in his hand. But nothing hap- pened, and next morning we were oM' betimes. Steeper ami steeper became the cuffke pl.xint. descent. \\'e preferred " shanks mare " to the already tired mules. Narrower and narrower became the gorge until it culminated in two "tall cliffs which lift their awful form" many hundred feet high, leaving only room for the now raging river, and a very narrow path between. Once through this, the valley opens out, and the vegetation assumes a more luxuriant a.spect. Our aneroids indicate an altitude of 2,600 feet, and the moist steamy heat tells us that we are trul}' in the tropics. The district is called Ciianchamayo, where for 20 years a number of Frenchmen and Italians have been trying 24 Travels in Tropical Lands. their hand at cofiee, indigo, and sugar-cane growing, it nuist he confessed, witli very indiffeieiit success, though, certes, " If vain their toil, Tliey ought to blame the culture, not the soil." Hut these men have been sent out without much jn-evious training. " That is a splendid specimen of cinchona," we said to a planter, ])oiuting to a tree near his Inuigalow. " Cinchona!" he exclaimed, in real amazement, "I have been 15 years here, and never knew I had been cutting down and bttrning cinchona trees." In Chancha- mayo we learned that the Convent of 8an Luis, on the borders of the Chunoho country, was about 25 miles distant. We had letters of introduction to the chief priest there, and after resting a day in the house of a hospitaljle Frenchman, eagerly pushed onwards. The trip was now getting decidedly interesting; the scenery and vegeta- tion improved as we proceeded, while the prospect of meeting real Fi-anciscan monks was by no means distasteful ; for although I have no gi'eat leaning towards the Spanish priesthood, still I honestly tried to go forward unprejudiced, thinking oidy of the monks of old, and the good they did in their day. But this convent was a revelation to us. We had never seen anything quite .so filthy and suspicious looking before, and would have gladly escaped within an hour ; indeed, did so, and began erecting our tent at a safe distance ; l)ut were im])lored not to insult the reverend fathers by refusing to accept their hospitality, an infliction which we now- bore patiently for several days. We Avere introduced to a lumiber of Chunchos, Miserable specimens they were, and more familiar than pleasant, who had left their country for their country's good. Just as a herd of elephants in Ceylon occasionally expel the incorrigible rogues, so the Chunchos, it seems, have their outcasts, male and female, who make a pailey-ground of this Convent — fit converts to this specious mockery. After sundry, rather meaningless, postpone- ments, we at length got a start. In Peru every good work is to be