The arrieros with cargoes usually take nine or ten days, and sometimes more, from Lima to Pasco, as they make short stages, consulting the ease of their cattle and convenience of lucern or pasture; and at Obrajillo they commonly rest a day at least, to refresh or perhaps relay some of their cattle, before they proceed to brave the toils of the Cordillera. From Obrajillo to Culluai, a small village near the foot of the Cordillera, there are three leagues; and the road leads through a rock-bound passage by the course of a river with a rugged bottom and ruffled stream. There are one or two bad passes to be surmounted in this part of the journey, from the summit of one of which a panting pony laden with part of our baggage once fell over, and broke his neck in the fall. This narrow quebrada or break, is not destitute of interest to the botanist; as in the rainy season, amongst the interspaces of the stones and crags, flowering shrubs of considerable beauty and variety present themselves: indeed, the highest Cordillera entrances are not without their hardy flowers amid the shelves of the rocks. We may remark that, between the cliffs in the neighbourhood of Culluai, may be seen samples of those tiers of gardens, built up one above the other on the face of the acclivity, to which we alluded in our preceding chapter, “on the general features of the Sierra,” as surviving proofs of the industry of the ancient Peruvians. At this same altitude many susceptible persons begin to feel inconvenience from the rarefaction of the atmosphere, and from want of provision for the stomach, if they happen not to have their own alforjas, or saddle-bags, properly provided with necessaries for the journey. It is only in the _puna_ and table-lands that meat is sure to be had, with, perhaps, potatoes and cancha or toasted maize; but, should the traveller ask for any thing else, he is told “Manam cancha”—there is none.