Lost City of the Incas (Phoenix Press) (30 page)

The trail up which I had been guided by Melchor Arteaga was
on the east side of the ridge, starting at the frail little bridge formed of half a dozen logs lashed together with vines which had been washed away soon after my visit. Besides, as I have said, for a good part of the distance the climbing was difficult. It would have been impossible for an Indian bearer to carry more than a very small load.

The path on the west side of the ridge, which began at the San Miguel bridge, was the one most frequently used by the Quichua Indians, Richarte and Alvarez, who lived near the ruins.

Tucker and Lanius had been obliged to use the west trail and had reported that it was perilous, winding along the face of rocky precipices and in two or three places crossing in front of sheer rock cliffs on fragile, rustic ladders. In fact, it was so difficult and so dangerous as to make it impassable for our Indian carriers. By improving it we could avoid the necessity of building a bridge over the Urubamba, but its use would involve an additional climb of 500 feet for every load that had to be carried up to camp. Moreover, the foot of this trail lay 4 miles further down the rapids, 4 miles further from our base at Cuzco. Consequently it was decided to try to build a bridge of our own and construct a new trail on the east side of the ridge. Fortunately I was able to entrust this work to Kenneth C. Heald, one of the topographers of the Expedition, whose Colorado training as a mining engineer and whose determination to surmount all obstacles made him invaluable to our undertaking.

The width of the Urubamba river at its narrowest point, the most feasible place for building the new footbridge, was about 80 feet. The roaring rapids, impossible to ford even in the dry season, are here divided into four parts by huge boulders. For material Mr Heald had to depend on the tropical forest which grows along the banks of the river. This of itself added another problem, for although there are many kinds of trees in the bottom of the canyon, all the species are covered with moss and lichen, so that it is difficult to determine their character. The quality of the timber varies greatly; some of the species produce hard, durable wood of great density and fine texture; other,
quick-growing species produce wood of inferior quality, soft and brittle. Mr Heald was finally able to select several fine, straight, hardwood varieties growing close to the east bank of the stream near the spot where he planned to construct his bridge. For workmen he had ten dull, unwilling Quichuas who had been forced to accompany him by the
gobernador
of a nearby town. Mr Heald’s only real assistant was an excellent gendarme, Tomas Cobinas, an energetic young
mestizo
who had been assigned to us by the prefect and who could be counted on to see to it that the Indians kept steadily at work.

The cutting of the logs for the first section of the bridge and the placing of them in position over an 8-foot reach was simple enough. To cross the next 40 feet of the icy white rapids proved more difficult. In the absence of derricks or any heavy tackle, Heald’s first plan was to lay a log in the stream parallel to the bank above the bridge, fasten the lower end, and let the current swing the upper end round until it lodged on the central boulder. On trying this, however, the timber proved to be of such dense hardwood that it sank immediately and was lost in the rapids. Mr Heald then very ingeniously contrived a primitive cantilever device with which he finally succeeded in crossing the torrent.

He then built an excellent rustic bridge which served its
purpose admirably until the end of our work at Machu Picchu. The Peruvian Government has built a new bridge here over which mules can pass and serve to carry tourists up to the ruins from the end of the narrow gauge railway which brings them down from Cuzco. A motor road has also been constructed as far as the inn near the old city.

The construction of our first trail was retarded by dense tropical jungle, by the steepness of the slope, and finally by the slowness and extreme caution of the Indians, who dreaded to take the risk of meeting a viper unexpectedly. Their fears were justified. During the next ten days eight venomous reptiles were killed, including several specimens of the deadly bushmaster. Fortunately none of the men was bitten.

Mr Heald had several narrow escapes, but from other causes. On the second day, while reconnoitring the steep slopes above the workmen and out of their sight, he suddenly discovered that they had started a fire in the bamboo scrub. In less than a minute it had gained great headway and was roaring up the mountain side faster than anyone could possibly climb. Retreat by the route he had come was impossible. The flames leaped 15 and 20 feet into the air. There was nothing to do but make a strenuous effort to get round the raging fire before it should spread sideways. Tearing blindly through the dense thicket, he fell headlong over a small cliff. Fortunately he landed in a mass of bamboo, which broke the force of his fall and saved his life.

A few days later he had an even more exciting experience. I had asked him to see whether he could get to the top of the needle-like peak called Huayna Picchu and investigate the story that there were ‘magnificent ruins’ upon its summit. Melchor Arteaga, the Quichua who originally took me up to the ruins at Machu Picchu, had said there were other ruins ‘equally good’, though more inaccessible, on Huayna Picchu. He finally admitted that they might be slightly inferior but repeatedly declared that they were of ‘great importance’. The peak rises 2,500 feet sharply above the Urubamba River, which surrounds it on three sides. On its south side is the ridge on which the ruins of Machu Picchu are located. On its east side is a precipice nearly sheer
from the top of the needle to the bank of the stream. On the north side, below the upper precipices of the needle, are slopes now forest-covered but bearing marks of ancient agricultural terraces. The presence of these terraces, some of which had been cultivated recently by Arteaga, made it seem reasonable that there might be important ruins on the slopes of Huayna Picchu, which, owing to the density of the great forest which covered the slopes, had hitherto escaped attention. Arteaga, however, insisted that there were beautiful ruins on top of the very peak itself. But when Mr Heald tried to employ him as a guide, he refused to go – possibly having a dim realization of some of the lies he had told. Nothing daunted, Heald, having found the place where Arteaga had built a rustic bridge to enable him to reach his clearings, started out with four Indians and Tomas Cobinas, his trusty gendarme.

Crossing the river on four shaky poles which resembled the bridge I had once used, he found even the lower slopes to be so vertical that it was frequently necessary to cut steps. He was greatly hindered by the bamboo vines and high coarse grasses which had sprung up in former clearings and also on the higher and steeper slopes following the fires set in past years by Melchor and other exponents of that primitive system of agriculture known to agronomists as
milpa
, clearing by fire. Progress was very slow. Finally the Indians gave out, weary with climbing and cutting their way through the bamboo jungle. Leaving the gendarme behind to see that the Indians continued cutting a trail as fast as strength permitted, Mr Heald determined to conquer the mountain alone and by a rapid reconnaissance ascertain how much of a path it would be advisable to make. His report is so graphic that I give it in his own words:

‘I pushed on up the hill, clearing my way with the machete, or down on all fours, following a bear trail (of which there were many), stopping occasionally to open my shirt at the throat and cool off, as it was terribly hot. The brush through which I made my way was in great part
mesquite
, terribly tough and with heavy, strong thorns. If a branch was not cut through at one blow it was pretty sure to come whipping back and drive half a
dozen spikes into hands, arms, and body. Luckily I had had enough practice to learn how to strike with a heavy shoulder blow and for the most part made clean strokes, but I didn’t get away untouched by any means. Finally, about 3 p.m., I had almost gained the top of the lowest part of the ridge, which runs along like the back-plates of some spined dinosaur. The trees had given way to grass or bare rock, the face of the rock being practically vertical. A cliff some 200 feet high stood in my way. By going out on the edge of the ridge I could look almost straight down to the river, which looked more like a trout brook than a river at that distance, though its roar in the rapids came up distinctly. I was just climbing out on top of the lowest “back-plate” when the grass and soil under my feet let go and I dropped. For about 20 feet there was a slope of about seventy degrees and then a jump of about 200 feet, after which it would be a bump and repeat (2,000 feet) down to the river. As I shot down the sloping surface I reached with my right hand and grasped a
mesquite
bush that was growing in a crack about 5 feet above the jump-off. I was going so fast that it jerked my arm up and, as my body was turning, pulled me from my side to my face; also, the jerk broke the ligaments holding the outer end of clavicle and scapula together. The strength left the arm with the tearing loose of the ligaments, but I had checked enough to give me a chance to get hold of a branch with my left hand. After hanging for a moment or two, so as to look everything over and be sure that I did nothing wrong, I started to work back up. The hardest part was to get my feet on the trunk of the little tree to which I was holding on. The fact that I was wearing moccasins instead of boots helped a great deal here, as they would take hold of the rock. It was distressingly slow work, but after about half an hour I had got back to comparatively safe footing. As my right arm was almost useless, I at once made my way down, getting back to camp about 5.30, taking the workmen with me as I went. On this trip I saw no sign of Inca work, except one small ruined wall.’

Five days later, although he had had no chance to consult a doctor, Mr Heald judged that his arm was in sufficiently good
shape for him to continue the work, and he very pluckily made another attempt to reach the top of Huayna Picchu. This likewise ended in failure; but on the following day he returned to the attack, followed his old trail for some 1,700 feet and, guided this time by Arteaga, eventually reached the top. His men were obliged to cut steps in the steep slope for a part of the distance until they came to an Inca stairway. This led them practically to the top, which consisted of a jumbled mass of granite boulders. There were no houses, though there were several flights of stone steps and three little caves. Probably it was once used as a signal station. And this was what Arteaga had told us was ‘equally as good’ as the ruins of Machu Picchu! To-day it is possible for energetic climbers to get to the top of Huayna Picchu without serious difficulty, enjoy the magnificent view, and see the primitive ruins of the watch-tower, as has been done by an American ambassador and his wife.

A day or two after Mr Heald had completed the trail from his new bridge to the top of the ridge, Dr George F. Eaton, osteologist of the Peabody Museum of Yale University, and Elwood C. Erdis, a civil engineer who was to supervise the clearing of the ruins and the search for artifacts, arrived and we began our investigations.

One of my fellow delegates on the mission to the Pan American Scientific Congress in Chile was Dr William H. Holmes, then Director of the National Museum. It was his hearty praise of the distinguished English archaeologist Mr A. P. Maudslay, for clearing the jungle from some of the most important sites in the Maya country, that caused me to undertake the discouraging task of chopping down the entire hardwood forest which stood on the city terraces and on top of some of the buildings at Machu Picchu. We not only cut down all the trees and bushes, we removed and burned all the debris, and even cleaned the moss off the walls of the ancient buildings and the carved rocks. We made a determined effort to uncover everything that had been hidden by nature in the course of the centuries and did our best to restore the beauties of the Inca’s favourite residence. We wanted to learn all we could from everything that was left of the
great sanctuary. We were anxious to secure photographs which would give some idea of the remarkable art and architecture of the white granite structures, even though this meant an enormous amount of painstaking labour.

The tropical forest had held undisputed sway for a very long time. During the course of our clearing we found massive trees, 2 feet thick, perched on the gable ends of small, beautifully constructed houses. It was not the least difficult part of our work to cut down and clear away such trees without seriously injuring the old walls.

We were fortunate to have as our chief
aide
Lieutenant Sotomayor, an officer of the Peruvian gendarmerie. His knowledge of the Quichua tongue was of the greatest assistance to us in dealing with the Indians, most of whom spoke no Spanish. A few of our workmen had come with us voluntarily from Cuzco, where they had been employed in excavations which we had made in that vicinity. On the other hand, so loath were the local Quichuas to leave their own villages and undertake profitable employment elsewhere, that it was impossible to secure enough voluntary labour, even though we paid more than the neighbouring planters and worked our men shorter hours. We were obliged, therefore, to depend on the chief village officials, the
gobernadors
, each of whom, acting under the orders of the Prefect, supplied us from time to time with ten or a dozen men for a fortnight.