A LUNATIC 
half day’s walking — some forty kilometres of heavy 
climbing. From Chuchura to Uancabamba was two days’ 
march. From Uancabamba one was able to get mules 
in order to go over the high pass of Culebra Marca and 
reach Serra de Pasco. 
It was possible by that trail to reach Lima in a few 
days on foot. It was out of the question for me to 
attempt such a journey, the attack of beri-beri in my 
right leg making it almost impossible for me to stand 
up. I decided to go as far up the stream as I could 
on the launch and by canoe. 
At Cahaubanas were a monastery and a great many 
Indians. After halting for the night at that place we 
continued our journey up the Pachitea with a strange 
medley of passengers on board. We had the Hungarian 
count and an Italian farmer, who was a remarkable musi¬ 
cian and played the accordion beautifully; we had Peru¬ 
vians, a Spanish emigrant, a small Indian boy aged ten who 
acted as steward, and a young fellow of German origin. 
The cook on the launch was a lunatic, who was under 
the impression that he was the Saviour. It was too 
pathetic, and occasionally quite alarming, to see the poor 
man leaving the cooking stove whenever we passed any 
Indians on the banks, when he raised his arms up in the 
air and, stretching them forward, gave his benediction 
to the people he saw, instead of looking after the boiling 
rice. His benedictions cost him frequent kicks and shak¬ 
ings by the neck on the part of the captain of the launch. 
He was absorbed in fervent praying during the night. 
He seldom condescended to speak to any of us on board, 
as he said that he was not living on this earth, but would 
come back some day to bring peace and happiness to 
the whole world. Words of that kind were uttered 
while he held a saucepan in one hand and a ladle in the 
other. 
In pouring rain we left again on January sixteenth 
between the high rocky banks of the river, well padded 
375 
