676 The National Geographic Magazine 



A FOUNTAIN IN CUZCO 



larger at the bottom, graduating as they 

 rise. In comparison the Spanish edifices 

 look crude and decayed. There is a 

 strength and dignity in this work of the 

 ancients. As I walked through the nar- 

 row street I felt very insignificant. The 

 cyclopean stone-work well suits its en- 

 vironment. In the shadow of the mighty 

 Andean mountains the Moorish style of 

 architecture, transplanted from the sunny 

 valleys of southern Spain, looks very 

 much out of place. The most remarkable 

 fact concerning these stones is that the 

 quarries were many miles from Cuzco. 

 Without iron or steel to shape them, 

 with no device now known to us to aid 

 in their transportation, these huge rocks 

 were carried great distances by men over 

 steep mountain trails. 



Much larger than any of the stones to 



be seen in the city are those in the fort- 

 ress of Sacsahnaman. Dominating the 

 valley, the hill on which this fortress 

 stands rises to a height of about seven 

 hundred feet. In Quichua, "sacsa" 

 means "gorge thyself;" "human" is 

 "falcon" or "hawk." A noted American 

 traveler who visited Cuzco in the sixties 

 interprets the name somewhat like this : 

 "Advance, O mine enemy ! Dash thy- 

 self against the rocky and impregnable 

 fortress, if thy wilt ; the hawks will 

 gather up thy fragments." 



We climbed up the hill by a zigzag 

 trail, very steep and rocky, past the an- 

 cient terraces of Colcompata, on which 

 are the remains of the palace of Manco 

 Capac. the first Inca. On the brow of 

 the hill now stands a great cross, a re- 

 minder to the people below that the days 



