r 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 railroa