(eBook PDF) Fundamentals of Complex Analysis:

with Applications to Engineering and Science 3rd

Edition pdf download

https://ebooksecure.com/product/ebook-pdf-fundamentals-of-
complex-analysis-with-applications-to-engineering-and-
science-3rd-edition/

Download more ebook from https://ebooksecure.com

We believe these products will be a great fit for you. Click
the link to download now, or visit ebooksecure.com
to discover even more!

(eBook PDF) Complex Analysis: A First Course with

Applications 3rd Edition

http://ebooksecure.com/product/ebook-pdf-complex-analysis-a-
first-course-with-applications-3rd-edition/

(eBook PDF) Fundamentals of Engineering Economic

Analysis 2nd Edition

http://ebooksecure.com/product/ebook-pdf-fundamentals-of-
engineering-economic-analysis-2nd-edition/

(eBook PDF) Fundamentals of Materials Science and

Engineering: An Integrated Approach, 5th Edition

http://ebooksecure.com/product/ebook-pdf-fundamentals-of-
materials-science-and-engineering-an-integrated-approach-5th-
edition/

Fundamentals of Materials Science and Engineering, An

Integrated Approach 5th Edition (eBook PDF)

http://ebooksecure.com/product/fundamentals-of-materials-science-
and-engineering-an-integrated-approach-5th-edition-ebook-pdf/
Introduction to Linear Algebra for Science and
Engineering, 3rd Edition Daniel Norman - eBook PDF

https://ebooksecure.com/download/introduction-to-linear-algebra-
for-science-and-engineering-3rd-edition-ebook-pdf/

(eBook PDF) The Fundamentals of Political Science

Research 3rd Edition

http://ebooksecure.com/product/ebook-pdf-the-fundamentals-of-
political-science-research-3rd-edition/

Polymer Science and Nanotechnology: Fundamentals and

Applications 1st Edition Ravin Narain - eBook PDF

https://ebooksecure.com/download/polymer-science-and-
nanotechnology-fundamentals-and-applications-ebook-pdf/

Simultaneous Mass Transfer and Chemical Reactions in

Engineering Science: Solution Methods and Chemical
Engineering Applications 1st Edition- eBook PDF

https://ebooksecure.com/download/simultaneous-mass-transfer-and-
chemical-reactions-in-engineering-science-solution-methods-and-
chemical-engineering-applications-ebook-pdf/

Numerical Methods in Engineering with MATLAB 3rd

Edition

http://ebooksecure.com/product/numerical-methods-in-engineering-
with-matlab-3rd-edition/
CONTENTS vii

8 The Transforms of Applied Mathematics 445

8.1 Fourier Series (The Finite Fourier Transform) . . . . . . . . . . . . . 446
8.2 The Fourier Transform . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 464
8.3 The Laplace Transform . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 476
8.4 The z-Transform . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 486
8.5 Cauchy Integrals and the Hilbert Transform . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 496
Summary . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 510

A Numerical Construction of Conformal Maps A-1

A.1 The Schwarz-Christoffel Parameter Problem . . . . . . . . . . . . . A-1
A.2 Examples . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A-6
A.3 Numerical Integration . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A-11
A.4 Conformal Mapping of Smooth Domains . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A-13
A.5 Conformal Mapping Software . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A-15

B Table of Conformal Mappings A-19

B.1 Möbius Transformations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A-19
B.2 Other Transformations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A-21

Answers to Odd-Numbered Problems A-27

Index I-1
This page intentionally left blank
Preface

The raison d’existence for Fundamentals of Complex Analysis: with Applications to

Engineering and Science, 3/e is our conviction that engineering, science, and math-
ematics undergraduates who have completed the calculus sequence are capable of
understanding the basics of complex analysis and applying its methods to solve en-
gineering problems. Accordingly, we address ourselves to this audience in our attempt
to make the fundamentals of the subject more easily accessible to readers who have
little inclination to wade through the rigors of the axiomatic approach. To accomplish
this goal we have modeled the text after standard calculus books, both in level of expo-
sition and layout, and have incorporated engineering applications throughout the text
so that the mathematical methodology will appear less sterile to the reader.
To be more specific about our mode of exposition, we begin by addressing the
question most instructors ask first: To what extent is the book self contained, i.e.,
which results are proved and which are merely stated? Let us say that we have elected
to include all the proofs that reflect the spirit of analytic function theory and to omit
most of those that involve deeper results from real analysis (such as the convergence of
Riemann sums for complex integrals, the Cauchy criterion for convergence, Goursat’s
generalization of Cauchy’s theorem, or the Riemann mapping theorem). Moreover, in
keeping with our philosophy of avoiding pedantics, we have shunned the ordered pairs
interpretation of complex numbers and retained the more intuitive approach (grounded
in algebraic field extensions).
Cauchy’s theorem is given two alternative presentations in Chapter 4. The first is
based on the deformation of contours, or what is known to topologists as homotopy.
We have taken some pains to make this approach understandable and transparent to the
novice because it is easy to visualize and to apply in specific situations. The second
treatment interprets contour integrals in terms of line integrals and invokes Green’s
theorem to complete the argument. These parallel developments constitute the two
parts of Section 4 in Chapter 4; either one may be read, and the other omitted, without
disrupting the exposition (although it should not be difficult to discern our preference,
from this paragraph).
Steady state temperature patterns in two dimensions are, in our opinion, the most
familiar instances of harmonic functions, so we have principally chosen this interpre-
tation for visualization of the theorems of analytic function theory. This application
receives attention throughout the book, with special emphasis in Chapter 7 in the con-

ix
x Preface

text of conformal mapping. There we draw the distinction between direct methods,
wherein a mapping must be constructed to solve a specific problem, and indirect meth-
ods that postulate a mapping and then investigate which problems it solves. In doing
so we hope to dispel the impression, given in many older books, that all applications
of the technique fall in the latter category.
In this third edition L. N. Trefethen and T. Driscoll have updated an appendix that
reflects the progress made in recent years on the numerical construction of conformal
mappings. A second appendix compiles a listing of some useful mappings having
closed form expressions.
Linear systems analysis is another application that recurs in the text. The basic
ideas of frequency analysis are introduced in Chapter 3 following the study of the
transcendental functions; Smith charts, circuit synthesis, and stability criteria are ad-
dressed at appropriate times; and the development culminates in Chapter 8 with the
exposition of the analytic-function aspects of Fourier, Mellin, Laplace, Hilbert, and z
transforms, including new applications in signal processing and communications. We
hope thereby that our book will continue to serve the reader as a reference resource for
subsequent coursework in these areas.

Features of the Third Edition

Novel features of the third edition are a discussion of the Riemann sphere, adding
substance to the pragmatic concept of the “point at infinity” in complex analysis; an
introduction to functional iteration and the picturesque Julia sets that thereby mani-
fest themselves in the complex plane; an early exploration of the enrichment that the
complex viewpoint provides in the analysis of polynomials and rational functions; and
an introductory survey of harmonic function methods for calculating equilibrium tem-
peratures for simple geometries. Optional sections are indicated with an asterisk so
that readers can select topics of special interest. Summaries and suggested readings
appear at the end of each chapter. As in previous editions, the text is distinguished by
its wealth of worked-out examples that illustrate the theorems, techniques, and appli-
cations of complex analysis.
Instructors (and curious students) may benefit from a MATLAB toolbox developed
by Francisco Carreras, available by Internet download from the web site

http://ee.eng.usf.edu/people/snider2.html

(click on complextools.zip). Instructions for its use are detailed in the file comp-
man.doc. The toolbox provides graphic onscreen visulations and animations of the
algebraic manipulations of complex numbers and the common conformal maps, as
well as a introductory guide for designing Joukowski airfoils.
A downloadable .pdf file of the inevitable errata that our helpful readers report to
us is also available at this site.
The authors wish to acknowlege our mentors, Joseph L. Walsh and Paul Garabe-
dian who have inspired our careers, and express their gratitude to Samuel Garrett, our
longtime colleague at the University of South Florida; to acquisitions editor George
Preface xi

Lobell for encouraging this project; to Adam Lewenberg for providing the art work and
technical support; to our production editor Bob Walters for his guidance in convert-
ing this work from manuscript to book; and to the following mathematicians, whose
critical commentary contributed enormously to the development of the text:
Carlos Berenstein, University of Maryland
Keith Kearnes, University of Colorado
Dmitry Khavinson, University of Arkansas
Donald Marshall, University of Washington
Mihail Putinar, University of California at Santa Barbara
Sergei Suslov, Arizona State University
Rebecca Wahl, Butler University
G. Brock Williams, Texas Tech University

E. B. Saff
[email protected]
A. D. Snider
[email protected]
This page intentionally left blank
Chapter 1

Complex Numbers

1.1 The Algebra of Complex Numbers

To achieve a proper perspective for studying the system of complex numbers, let us
begin by briefly reviewing the construction of the various numbers used in computa-
tion.
We start with the rational numbers. These are ratios of integers and are written
in the form m/n, n  = 0, with the stipulation that all rationals of the form n/n are
equal to 1 (so we can cancel common factors). The arithmetic operations of addition,
subtraction, multiplication, and division with these numbers can always be performed
in a finite number of steps, and the results are, again, rational numbers. Furthermore,
there are certain simple rules concerning the order in which the computations can
proceed. These are the familiar commutative, associative, and distributive laws:

Commutative Law of Addition

a+b =b+a
Commutative Law of Multiplication

ab = ba

Associative Law of Addition

a + (b + c) = (a + b) + c

Associative Law of Multiplication

a(bc) = (ab)c

Distributive Law
(a + b)c = ac + bc,
for any rationals a, b, and c.

1
2 Complex Numbers

Notice that the rationals are the only numbers we would ever need, to solve equa-
tions of the form
ax + b = 0.
The solution, for nonzero a, is x=−b/a, and since this is the ratio of two rationals, it
is itself rational.
However, if we try to solve quadratic equations in the rational system, we find that
some of them have no solution; for example, the simple equation

x2 = 2 (1)

cannot be satisfied by any rational number (see Prob. 29 at the end of this section).
Therefore, to get a more satisfactory number system, we extend the concept√of “num-
ber” by appending to the rationals a new symbol, mnemonically written as 2, which
is defined to be a solution of Eq. (1)). Our revised concept of a number is now an
expression in the standard form √
a + b 2, (2)
where a and b are rationals. Addition and subtraction are performed according to
√ √ √
(a + b 2) ± (c + d 2) = (a ± c) + (b ± d) 2. (3)

Multiplication
√ is defined via the distributive law with the proviso that the square of the
symbol 2 can always be replaced by the rational number 2. Thus we have
√ √ √
(a + b 2)(c + d 2) = (ac + 2bd) + (bc + ad) 2. (4)

Finally, using the well-known process of rationalizing the denominator, we can put
the quotient of any two of these new numbers into the standard form
√ √ √
a+b 2 a+b 2 c−d 2 ac − 2bd bc − ad √
√ = √ √ = 2 + 2. (5)
c+d 2 c+d 2 c−d 2 c − 2d 2 c2 − 2d 2

This procedure of “calculating with radicals” should be very familiar to the reader,
and the resulting arithmetic system can easily be shown to satisfy the √ commutative,
associative, and distributive laws. However, observe that the symbol 2 has not been
absorbed by the rational numbers painlessly. Indeed, in the standard form (2) and in
the algorithms (3), (4), and√(5) its presence stands out like a sore thumb. Actually, we
are only using the symbol 2 to “hold a place” while we compute around it using the
rational components, except for those occasional opportunities when it occurs√ squared
and we are temporarily relieved of having to carry it. So the inclusion of 2 as a
number is a somewhat artificial process, devised solely so that we might have a richer
system in which we can solve the equation x 2 = 2.
With this in mind, let us jump to the stage √ where we have appended all the real
numbers to our system. Some of them, such as 4 17, arise as solutions of more com-
plicated equations, while others, such as π and e, come from certain limit processes.
1.1 The Algebra of Complex Numbers 3

Each irrational is absorbed in a somewhat artificial manner, but once again the re-
sulting conglomerate of numbers and arithmetic operations satisfies the commutative,
associative, and distributive laws.†
At this point we observe that we still cannot solve the equation
x 2 = −1. (6)
But now our experience suggests that we can expand our number
√ system once again
by appending a symbol for a solution to Eq. (6); instead of −1, it is customary to
use the symbol i. (Engineers often use the√ letter j.) Next we imitate the model of
expressions (2) through (5) (pertaining to 2) and thereby generalize our concept of
number as follows:‡

Definition 1. A complex number is an expression of the form a + bi, where a

and b are real numbers. Two complex numbers a + bi and c + di are said to be
equal (a + bi = c + di) if and only if a = c and b = d.

The operations of addition and subtraction of complex numbers are given by

(a + bi) ± (c + di) := (a ± c) + (b ± d)i,
where the symbol := means “is defined to be.”
In accordance with the distributive law and the proviso that i 2 = −1, we postulate
the following:
The multiplication of two complex numbers is defined by
(a + bi)(c + di) := (ac − bd) + (bc + ad)i.
To compute the quotient of two complex numbers, we again “rationalize the de-
nominator”:
a + bi a + bi c − di ac + bd bc − ad
= = 2 + 2 i.
c + di c + di c − di c +d 2 c + d2
Thus we formally postulate the following:
The division of complex numbers is given by
a + bi ac + bd bc − ad
:= 2 + 2 i (if c2 + d 2  = 0).
c + di c +d 2 c + d2
These are rules for computing in the complex number system. The usual alge-
braic properties (commutativity, associativity, etc.) are easy to verify and appear as
exercises.
† The algebraic aspects of extending a number field are discussed in Ref. 5 at the end of this
chapter.
‡ Karl Friedrich Gauss (1777–1855) was the first mathematician to use complex numbers freely
and give them full acceptance as genuine mathematical objects.
4 Complex Numbers

Example 1
Find the quotient
(6 + 2i) − (1 + 3i)
.
(−1 + i) − 2
Solution.
(6 + 2i) − (1 + 3i) 5−i (5 − i) (−3 − i)
= =
(−1 + i) − 2 −3 + i (−3 + i) (−3 − i)
−15 − 1 − 5i + 3i
= (7)
9+1
8 1
= − − i. 
5 5
(A slug marks the end of solutions or proofs throughout the text.)
Historically, i was considered as an “imaginary” number because of the blatant
impossibility of solving Eq. (6) with any of the numbers at hand. With the perspective
√
we√ have developed, we can see that this label could also be applied to the numbers 2
or 4 17; like them, i is simply one more symbol appended to a given number system
to create a richer system. Nonetheless, tradition dictates the following designations:†

Definition 2. The real part of the complex number a + bi is the (real) number
a; its imaginary part is the (real) number b. If a is zero, the number is said to
be a pure imaginary number.

For convenience we customarily use a single letter, usually z, to denote a complex

number. Its real and imaginary parts are then written Re z and Im z, respectively. With
this notation we have z = Re z + i Im z.
Observe that the equation z 1 = z 2 holds if and only if Re z 1 = Re z 2 and Im z 1 =
Im z 2 . Thus any equation involving complex numbers can be interpreted as a pair of
real equations.
The set of all complex numbers is sometimes denoted as C. Unlike the real num-
ber system, there is no natural ordering for the elements of C; it is meaningless, for
example, to ask whether 2 + 3i is greater than or less than 3 + 2i. (See Prob. 30.)

EXERCISES 1.1
1. Verify that −i is also a root of Eq. (6).
2. Verify the commutative, associative, and distributive laws for complex numbers.
† René Descartes introduced the terminology “real” and “imaginary” in 1637. W. R. Hamilton
referred to a number’s “imaginary part” in 1843.
1.1 The Algebra of Complex Numbers 5

3. Notice that 0 and 1 retain their “identity” properties as complex numbers; that is,
0 + z = z and 1 · z = z when z is complex.
(a) Verify that complex subtraction is the inverse of complex addition (that is,
z 3 = z 2 − z 1 if and only if z 3 + z 1 = z 2 ).
(b) Verify that complex division, as given in the text, is the inverse of complex
multiplication (that is, if z 2 = 0, then z 3 = z 1 /z 2 if and only if z 3 z 2 = z 1 ).
4. Prove that if z 1 z 2 = 0, then z 1 = 0 or z 2 = 0.

In Problems 5–13, write the number in the form a + bi.

 
i 2
5. (a) −3 (b) (8 + i) − (5 + i) (c)
2 i
2−i
6. (a) (−1 + i)2 (b) 1
(c) i(π − 4i)
3
8i − 1 −1 + 5i 3 i
7. (a) (b) (c) +
i 2 + 3i i 3
(8 + 2i) − (1 − i)
8.
(2 + i)2
2 + 3i 8+i
9. −
1 + 2i 6−i
 2
2+i
10.
6i − (1 − 2i)
11. i 3 (i + 1)2
12. (2 + i)(−1 − i)(3 − 2i)
13. ((3 − i)2 − 3)i
14. Show that Re(i z) = −Im z for every complex number z.
15. Let k be an integer. Show that

i 4k = 1, i 4k+1 = i, i 4k+2 = −1, i 4k+3 = −i.

16. Use the result of Problem 15 to find

(a) i 7 (b) i 62 (c) i −202 (d) i −4321

17. Use the result of Problem 15 to evaluate

8
3i 11 + 6i 3 + + i −1 .
i 20
18. Show that the complex number z = −1 + i satisfies the equation

z 2 + 2z + 2 = 0.
6 Complex Numbers

19. Write the complex equation z 3 + 5z 2 = z + 3i as two real equations.

20. Solve each of the following equations for z.
z
(a) i z = 4 − zi (b) = 1 − 5i
1−z

(c) (2 − i)z + 8z 2 = 0 (d) z 2 + 16 = 0

21. The complex numbers z 1 , z 2 satisfy the system of equations

(1 − i)z 1 + 3z 2 = 2 − 3i,
i z 1 + (1 + 2i)z 2 = 1.
Find z 1 , z 2 .
22. Find all solutions to the equation z 4 − 16 = 0.
23. Let z be a complex number such that Re z > 0. Prove that Re(1/z) > 0.
24. Let z be a complex number such that Im z > 0. Prove that Im(1/z) < 0.
25. Let z 1 , z 2 be two complex numbers such that z 1 + z 2 and z 1 z 2 are each negative real
numbers. Prove that z 1 and z 2 must be real numbers.
26. Verify that

n 
n
Re( z j) = Re z j
j=1 j=1

and that

n 
n
Im( z j) = Im z j .
j=1 j=1

[The real (imaginary) part of the sum is the sum of the real (imaginary) parts.]
Formulate, and then disprove, the corresponding conjectures for multiplication.
27. Prove the binomial formula for complex numbers:
   
n n−1 n n−k k
(z 1 + z 2 ) = z 1 +
n n
z1 z2 + · · · + z z 2 + · · · + z 2n ,
1 k 1
where n is a positive integer, and the binomial coefficients are given by
 
n n!
:= .
k k!(n − k)!

28. Use the binomial formula (Prob. 27) to compute (2 − i)5 .

29. Prove that there is no rational number x that satisfies x 2 = 2. [HINT: Show that if
p/q were a solution, where p and q are integers, then 2 would have to divide both
p and q. This contradicts the fact that such a ratio can always be written without
common divisors.]
1.2 Point Representation of Complex Numbers 7

30. The definition of the order relation denoted by > in the real number system is based
upon the existence of a subset P (the positive reals) having the following properties:

(i) For any number α = 0, either α or −α (but not both) belongs to P.

(ii) If α and β belong to P, so does α + β.
(iii) If α and β belong to P, so does α · β.

When such a set P exists we write α > β if and only if α − β belongs to P.†
Prove that the complex number system does not possess a nonempty subset P having
properties (i), (ii), and (iii). [HINT: Argue that neither i nor −i could belong to such
a set P.]

31. Write a computer program for calculating sums, differences, products, and quotients
of complex numbers. The input and output parameters should be the corresponding
real and imaginary parts.

32. The straightforward method of computing the product (a + bi)(c + di) = (ac −
bd) + i(bc + ad) requires four (real) multiplications (and two signed additions). On
most computers multiplication is far more time-consuming than addition. Devise
an algorithm for computing (a + bi)(c + di) with only three multiplications (at the
cost of extra additions). [HINT: Start with (a + b)(c + d).]

1.2 Point Representation of Complex

Numbers
It is presumed that the reader is familiar with the Cartesian coordinate system (Fig. 1.1)
which establishes a one-to-one correspondence between points in the x y-plane and
ordered pairs of real numbers. The ordered pair (−2, 3), for example, corresponds to
that point P that lies two units to the left of the y-axis and three units above the x-axis.

Figure 1.1 Cartesian coordinate system.

† On computers this is, in fact, the method by which the statement α > β is tested.
8 Complex Numbers

The Cartesian coordinate system suggests a convenient way to represent complex

numbers as points in the x y-plane; namely, to each complex number a + bi we asso-
ciate that point in the x y-plane that has the coordinates (a, b). The complex number
−2 + 3i is therefore represented by the point P in Fig. 1.1. Also shown in Fig. 1.1 are
the points that represent the complex numbers 0, i, 2 + 2i, and −4 − 3i.
When the x y-plane is used for the purpose of describing complex numbers it is
referred to as the complex plane or z-plane. (The term Argand diagram is sometimes
used; the representation of complex numbers in the plane was proposed independently
by Caspar Wessel in 1797 and Jean Pierre Argand in 1806.) Since each point on the x-
axis represents a real number, this axis is called the real axis. Analogously, the y-axis
is called the imaginary axis for it represents the pure imaginary numbers.
Hereafter, we shall refer to the point that represents the complex number z as
simply the point z; that is, the point z = a + bi is the point with coordinates (a, b).

Example 1
Suppose that n particles with masses m 1 , m 2 , . . . , m n are located at the respective
points z 1 , z 2 , . . . , z n in the complex plane. Show that the center of mass of the system
is the point
m 1 z1 + m 2 z2 + · · · + m n zn
z= .
m1 + m2 + · · · + mn

 z 1 = x1 + y1 i, z 2 = x2 + y2 i, . . . , z n = xn + yn i, and let M
Solution. Write
be the total mass nk=1 m k . Presumably the reader will recall that the center of mass
of the given system is the point with coordinates (
x,
y), where

n 
n
m k xk m k yk
k=1 k=1

x= , 
y= .
M M


But clearly x and y are, respectively, the real and imaginary parts of the complex
number ( nk=1 m k z k )/M = z. 
Absolute Value. By the Pythagorean
√ theorem, the distance from the point z = a + bi
to the origin is given by a 2 + b2 . Special notation for this distance is given in

Definition 3. The absolute value or modulus of the number z = a + bi is

denoted by |z| and is given by

|z| := a 2 + b2 .

In particular,

i 1 √
|0| = 0, = , |3 − 4i| = 9 + 16 = 5.
2 2
1.2 Point Representation of Complex Numbers 9

Figure 1.2 Distance between points.

The reader should note that |z| is always a nonnegative real number and that the only
complex number whose modulus is zero is the number 0.
Let z 1 = a1 + b1 i and z 2 = a2 + b2 i. Then
|z 1 − z 2 | = |(a1 − a2 ) + (b1 − b2 ) i| = (a1 − a2 )2 + (b1 − b2 )2 ,
which is the distance between the points with coordinates (a1 , b1 ) and (a2 , b2 ) (see
Fig. 1.2). Hence the distance between the points z 1 and z 2 is given by |z 1 − z 2 |. This
fact is useful in describing certain curves in the plane. Consider, for example, the set
of all numbers z that satisfy the equation
|z − z 0 | = r, (1)
where z 0 is a fixed complex number and r is a fixed positive real number. This set con-
sists of all points z whose distance from z 0 is r . Consequently Eq. (1) is the equation
of a circle.
Example 2
Describe the set of points z that satisfy the equations
(a) |z + 2| = |z − 1|, (b) |z − 1| = Re z + 1.
Solution. (a) A point z satisfies Eq. (a) if and only if it is equidistant from the
points −2 and 1. Hence Eq. (a) is the equation of the perpendicular bisector of the line
segment joining −2 and 1; that is, Eq. (a) describes the line x = − 12 .
A more routine method for solving Eq. (a) is to set z = x + i y in the equation and
perform the algebra:
|z + 2| = |z − 1|,
|x + i y + 2| = |x + i y − 1|,
(x + 2)2 + y 2 = (x − 1)2 + y 2 ,
4x + 4 = −2x + 1,
1
x =− .
2
(b) The geometric interpretation of Eq. (b) is less obvious, so we proceed di-
rectly with the mechanical approach and derive (x − 1)2 + y 2 = x + 1, or y 2 = 4x,
which describes a parabola (see Fig. 1.3). 
10 Complex Numbers

Figure 1.3 Graphs for Example 2.

Figure 1.4 Complex conjugates.

Complex Conjugates. The reflection of the point z = a + bi in the real axis is the point
a − bi (see Fig. 1.4). As we shall see, the relationship between a + bi and a − bi
will play a significant role in the theory of complex variables. We introduce special
notation for this concept in the next definition.

Definition 4. The complex conjugate of the number z = a + bi is denoted by

z̄ and is given by
z̄ := a − bi.

Thus,
−1 + 5i = −1 − 5i, π − i = π + i, 8 = 8.
Some authors use the asterisk, z ∗ , to denote the complex conjugate.
It follows from Definition 4 that z = z̄ if and only if z is a real number. Also it
is clear that the conjugate of the sum (difference) of two complex numbers is equal to
the sum (difference) of their conjugates; that is,
z1 + z2 = z1 + z2, z1 − z2 = z1 − z2.
1.2 Point Representation of Complex Numbers 11

Perhaps not so obvious is the analogous property for multiplication.

Example 3
Prove that the conjugate of the product of two complex numbers is equal to the product
of the conjugates of these numbers.
Solution. It is required to verify that

(z 1 z 2 ) = z 1 z 2 . (2)

Write z 1 = a1 + b1 i, z 2 = a2 + b2 i. Then

(z 1 z 2 ) = a1 a2 − b1 b2 + (a1 b2 + a2 b1 )i
= a1 a2 − b1 b2 − (a1 b2 + a2 b1 )i.

On the other hand,

z 1 z 2 = (a1 − b1 i)(a2 − b2 i) = a1 a2 − b1 b2 − a1 b2 i − a2 b1 i
= a1 a2 − b1 b2 − (a1 b2 + a2 b1 )i.

Thus Eq. (2) holds. 

In addition to Eq. (2) the following properties can be seen:
 
z1 z1
= (z 2  = 0); (3)
z2 z2
z + z̄
Re z = ; (4)
2
z − z̄
Im z = ; (5)
2i
Property (4) demonstrates that the sum of a complex number and its conjugate is real,
whereas (5) shows that the difference is (pure) imaginary. The conjugate of the conju-
gate of a complex number is, of course, the number itself:

(z) = z. (6)

It is clear from Definition 4 that

|z| = |z̄|;

that is, the points z and z̄ are equidistant from the origin. Furthermore, since

z z̄ = (a + bi)(a − bi) = a 2 + b2 ,

we have
z z̄ = |z|2 . (7)
12 Complex Numbers

This is a useful fact to remember: The square of the modulus of a complex number
equals the number times its conjugate.
Actually we have already employed complex conjugates in Sec. 1.1, in the process
of rationalizing the denominator for the division algorithm. Thus, for instance, if z 1
and z 2 are complex numbers, then we rewrite z 1 /z 2 as a ratio with a real denominator
by using z 2 :
z1 z1 z2 z1 z2
= = . (8)
z2 z2 z2 |z 2 |2
In particular,
1 z
= 2. (9)
z |z|
In closing we would like to mention that there is another, possibly more enlight-
ening, way to see Eq. (2). Notice that when we represent a complex number in terms
of two real numbers and the symbol i, as in z = a + bi, then the action of conjuga-
tion is equivalent to changing the sign of the i term. Now recall the role that i plays in
computations; it merely holds a place while we compute around it, replacing its square
by −1 whenever it arises. Except for these occurrences √ i is never really absorbed into
the computations; we could just as well call it j, λ, −1, or any other symbol whose
square we agree to replace by −1. In fact, without affecting the validity of the calcula-
tion, we could replace it throughout by the symbol (−i), since the square of the latter
is also −1. Thus, for instance, if in the expression (a1 + b1 i) (a2 + b2 i) we replace i
by −i and then multiply, the only thing different about the product will be the appear-
ance of −i instead of i. But expressed in terms of conjugation, this is precisely the
statement of Example 3.†

EXERCISES 1.2
1. Show that the point (z 1 + z 2 )/2 is the midpoint of the line segment joining z 1 and
z2.
2. Given four particles of masses 2, 1, 3, and 5 located at the respective points 1 + i,
−3i, 1 − 2i, and −6, find the center of mass of this system.
3. Which of the points i, 2 − i, and −3 is farthest from the origin?
4. Let z = 3 − 2i. Plot the points z, −z, z̄, −z̄, and 1/z in the complex plane. Do the
same for z = 2 + 3i and z = −2i.
√ √
5. Show that the points 1, −1/2 + i 3/2, and −1/2 − i 3/2 are the vertices of an
equilateral triangle.
6. Show that the points 3 + i, 6, and 4 + 4i are the vertices of a right triangle.
† By the same token we should be able to replace
√ √ √ √
2 by − 2 in (3 + 2 2)(4 − 3 2) either
before or after multiplying and obtain the same result. (Try it.)
 Another Random Document on
Scribd Without Any Related Topics
 Fig. 49—Fig tree formerly Fig. 50—A tiny rubber plant
attached to a host but now left is growing under the tripod
standing on its stilt-like aërial made of yuca stems tied with
roots owing to the decay of the banana leaves. Growing yuca
host. is shown by the naked stalks to
the left and right of this
canopy, and banana plants fill
the background. A plantation
scene at Echarati.

The type of tropical agriculture which we have outlined is profitable for

the few planters who make up the white population of the valleys, but it has
a deplorable effect upon the Indian population. Though the planters, one
and all, complain bitterly of the drunken habits of their laborers, they
themselves put into the hands of the Indians the means of debauchery.
Practically the whole production of the eastern valleys is consumed in Peru.
What the valleys do not take is sent to the plateau, where it is the chief
cause of vicious conduct. Two-thirds of the prisoners in the city jails are
drunkards, and, to be quite plain, they are virtually supplied with brandy by
the planter, who could not otherwise make enough money. So although the
planter wants more and better labor he is destroying the quality of the little
there is, and, if not actually reducing the quantity of it, he is at least very
certainly reducing the rate of increase.
The difficulties of the valley planter could be at least partly overcome in
several ways. The railway will reduce transportation costs, especially when
the playas of the valleys are all cleared and the exports increased. Moreover
the eastern valleys are capable of producing things of greater utility than
brandy and coca leaves. So far as profits are increased by cheaper
transportation we may expect the planter to produce more rather than less of
brandy and coca, his two most profitable exports, unless other products can
be found that are still more profitable. The ratio of profits on sugar and
brandy will still be the same unless the government increases the tax on
brandy until it becomes no more profitable than sugar. That is what ought to
be done for the good of the Indian population. It cannot be done safely
without offering in its place the boon of cheaper railway transportation for
the sugar crop. Furthermore, with railway improvements should go the
blessings that agricultural experiments can bestow. A government farm in a
suitable place would establish rice and cotton cultivation. Many of the
playas or lower alluvial lands along the rivers can be irrigated. Only a small
fraction of the water of the Rio Urubamba is now turned out upon the fields.
For a large part of the year the natural rainfall would suffice to keep rice in
good condition. Six tons a year are now grown on Hacienda Sahuayaco for
local use on account of the heavy rate on rice imported on muleback from
Cuzco, whither it comes by sea and by trail from distant coastal valleys.
The lowland people also need rice and it could be sent to them down river
by an easier route than that over which their supplies now come. It should
be exported to the highlands, not imported therefrom. There are so many
varieties adapted to so many kinds of soil and climate that large amounts
should be produced at fair profits.
The cotton plant, on the other hand, is more particular about climate and
especially the duration of dry and wet seasons; in spite of this its
requirements are all met in the Santa Ana Valley. The rainfall is moderate
and there is an abundance of dry warm soil. The plant could make most of
its growth in the wet season, and the four months of cooler dry season with
only occasional showers would favor both a bright staple and a good
picking season. More labor would be required for cotton and rice and for
the increased production of cacao than under the present system. This
would not be a real difficulty if the existing labor supply were conserved by
the practical abolition, through heavy taxation, of the brandy that is the
chief cause of the laborer’s vicious habits. This is the first step in securing
the best return upon the capital invested in a railway. Economic progress is
here bound up with a very practical morality. Colonization in the eastern
valleys, of which there have been but a few dismal attempts, will only
extend the field of influence, it will not solve the real problem of bringing
the people of the rich eastern territory of Peru into full and honorable
possession of their natural wealth.
The value of the eastern valleys was known in Inca times, for their
stone-faced terraces and coca-drying patios may still be seen at Echarati and
on the border of the Chaupimayu Valley at Sahuayaco. Tradition has it that
here were the imperial coca lands, that such of the forest Indians as were
enslaved were obliged to work upon them, and that the leaves were sent to
Cuzco over a paved road now covered with “montaña” or forest. The
Indians still relate that at times a mysterious, wavering, white light appears
on the terraces and hills where old treasure lies buried. Some of the Indians
have gold and silver objects which they say were dug from the floors of hill
caves. There appears to have been an early occupation of the best lands by
the Spaniards, for the long extensions down them of Quechua population
upon which the conquerors could depend no doubt combined with the
special products of the valley to draw white colonists thither.[12] General
Miller,[13] writing in 1836, mentions the villages of Incharate (Echarati) and
Sant’ Ana (Santa Ana) but discourages the idea of colonization “... since the
river ... has lofty mountains on either side of it, and is not navigable even
for boats.”
In the “Itinerario de los viajes de Raimondi en el Peru”[14] there is an
interesting account of the settlement by the Rueda family of the great estate
still held by a Rueda, the wife of Señor Duque. José Rueda, in 1829, was a
government deputy representative and took his pay in land, acquiring
valuable territory on which there was nothing more than a mission. In 1830
Rueda ceded certain lands in “arriendo” (rent) and on these were founded
the haciendas Pucamoco, Sahuayaco, etc.
Señor Gonzales, the present owner of Hacienda Sahuayaco, recently
obtained his land—a princely estate, ten miles by forty—for 12,000 soles
($6,000). In a few years he has cleared the best tract, built several miles of
canals, hewed out houses and furniture, planted coca, cacao, cane, coffee,
rice, pepper, and cotton, and would not sell for $50,000. Moreover, instead
of being a superintendent on a neighboring estate and keeping a shop in
Cuzco, where his large family was a source of great expense, he has
become a wealthy landowner. He has educated a son in the United States.
He is importing machinery, such as a rice thresher and a distilling plant. His
son is looking forward to the purchase of still more playa land down river.
He pays a sol a day to each laborer, securing men from Cotabambas and
Abancay, where there are many Indians, a low standard of wages, little
unoccupied land, and a hot climate, so that the immigrants do not need to
become acclimatized.
The deepest valleys in the Eastern Andes of Peru have a semi-arid
climate which brings in its train a variety of unusual geographic relations.
At first as one descends the valley the shady and sunny slopes show sharply
contrasted vegetation.

Fig. 51—Robledo’s mountain-side trail in the Urubamba

Valley below Rosalina.
Fig. 52—An epiphyte partly supported by a dead host at
Rosalina, elevation 2,000 feet. The epiphyte bears a striking
resemblance to a horned beast whose arched back, tightly
clasped fingers, and small eyes give it a peculiarly malignant
and life-like expression.
 Fig. 53A—The smooth grassy slopes at the junction of the
Yanatili (left) and Urubamba (right) rivers near Pabellon.
Fig. 53B—Distribution of vegetation in the Urubamba Valley
near Torontoy. The patches of timber in the background occupy
the shady sides of the spurs; the sunny slopes are grass-covered;
the valley floor is filled with thickets and patches of woodland
but not true forest.

The one is forested, the other grass-covered. Slopes that receive the noon
and afternoon sun the greater part of the year are hottest and therefore
driest. For places in 11° south latitude the sun is well to the north six
months of the year, nearly overhead for about two months, and to the south
four months. Northwesterly aspects are therefore driest and warmest, hence
also grass-covered. In many places the line between grass and forest is
developed so sharply that it seems to be the artificial edge of a cut-over
tract. This is true especially if the relief is steep and the hill or ridge-crests
sharp.[15]
 Fig. 54—Climatic cross-section from the crest of the
Cordillera Vilcapampa down the eastern mountain valleys to
the tropical plains.

At Santa Ana this feature is developed in an amazingly clear manner, and

it is also combined with the dry timber line and with productivity in a way I
have never seen equaled elsewhere. The diagram will explain the relation. It
will be seen that the front range of the mountains is high enough to shut off
a great deal of rainfall. The lower hills and ridges just within the front range
are relatively dry. The deep valleys are much drier. Each broad expansion of
a deep valley is therefore a dry pocket. Into it the sun pours even when all
the surrounding hills and mountains are wrapped in cloud. The greater
number of hours of sunshine hastens the rate of evaporation and still further
increases the dryness. Under the spur of much sunlight and of ample
irrigation water from the wetter hill slopes, the dry valley pockets produce
huge crops of fruit and cane.
The influence of the local climate upon tree growth is striking. Every
few days, even in the relatively dry winter season, clouds gather about the
hills and there are local showers. The lower limit of the zone of clouds is
sharply marked and at both Santa Ana and Echarati it is strikingly constant
in elevation—about five thousand feet above sea level. From the upper
mountains the forest descends, with only small patches of glade and prairie.
At the lower edge of the zone of cloud it stops abruptly on the warmer and
drier slopes that face the afternoon sun and continues on the moister slopes
that face the forenoon sun or that slope away from the sun.
But this is not the only response the vegetation makes. The forest
changes in character as well as in distribution. The forest in the wet zone is
dense and the undergrowth luxuriant. In the selective slope forest below the
zone of cloud the undergrowth is commonly thin or wanting and the trees
grow in rather even-aged stands and by species. Finally, on the valley floor
and the tributary fans, there is a distinct growth of scrub with bands of trees
along the water courses. Local tracts of coarse soil, or less rain on account
of a deep “hole” in a valley surrounded by steeper and higher mountains, or
a change in the valley trend that brings it into less free communication with
the prevailing winds, may still further increase the dryness and bring in a
true xerophytic or drought-resisting vegetation. Cacti are common all
through the Santa Ana Valley and below Sahuayaco there is a patch of tree
cacti and similar forms several square miles in extent. Still farther down and
about half-way between Sahuayaco and Pabellon are immense tracts of
grass-covered mountain slopes (Fig. 53). These extend beyond Rosalina, the
last of them terminating near Abra Tocate (Fig. 15). The sudden interruption
is due to a turn in the valley giving freer access to the up-valley winds that
sweep through the pass at Pongo de Mainique.
Northward from Abra Tocate (Fig. 55) the forest is
practically continuous. The break between the two
vegetal regions is emphasized by a corral for cattle and
mules, the last outpost of the plateau herdsmen. Not three
miles away, on the opposite forested slope of the valley, is
the first of the Indian clearings where several families of
Machigangas spend the wet season when the lower river
is in flood (Fig. 21). The grass lands will not yield corn
and coca because the soil is too thin, infertile, and dry. Fig. 55—Map to
The Indian farms are therefore all in the forest and begin show the relation
almost at its very edge. Here finally terminates a long of the grasslands
peninsula of grass-covered country. Below this point the of the dry lower
heat and humidity rapidly increase; the rains are heavier portion of the
Urubamba
and more frequent; the country becomes almost Valley
uninhabitable for stock; transportation rates double. Here (unshaded) to the
is the undisputed realm of the forest with new kinds of forested lands at
trees and products and a distinctive type of forest- higher elevations
dwelling Indian. (shaded). See Fig.
54 for climatic
At the next low pass is the skull of an Italian who had conditions.
murdered his companions and stolen a season’s picking of Patches and
rubber, attempting to escape by canoe to the lower slender tongues
Urubamba from the Pongo de Mainique. The of woodland
Machigangas overtook him in their swiftest dugouts, occur below the
spent a night with him, and the next morning shot him in main timber line
the back and returned with their rightful property—a and patches of
grassland above
harvest of rubber. For more than a decade foreigners have it.
been coming down from the plateau to exploit them. They
are an independent and free tribe and have simple yet
correct ideas of right and wrong. Their chief, a man of great strength of
character and one of the most likeable men I have known, told me that he
placed the skull in the pass to warn away the whites who came to rob honest
Indians.
The Santa Ana Valley between the Canyon of Torontoy and the heavy
forest belt below Rosalina is typical of many of the eastern valleys of Peru,
both in its physical setting and in its economic and labor systems. Westward
are the outliers of the Vilcapampa range; on the east are the smaller ranges
that front the tropical lowlands. Steep valleys descend from the higher
country to join the main valley and at the mouth of every tributary is an
alluvial fan. If the alluvium is coarse and steeply inclined there is only
pasture on it or a growth of scrub. If fine and broad it is cleared and tilled.
The sugar plantations begin at Huadquiña and end at Rosalina. Those of
Santa Ana and Echarati are the most productive. It takes eighteen months
for the cane to mature in the cooler weather at Huadquiña (8,000 feet). Less
than a year is required at Santa Ana (3,400 feet). Patches of alluvium or
playas, as they are locally called, continue as far as Santo Anato, but they
are cultivated only as far as Rosalina. The last large plantation is Pabellon;
the largest of all is Echarati. All are irrigated. In the wet months, December
to March inclusive, there is little or no irrigation. In the four months of the
dry season, June to September inclusive, there is frequent irrigation. Since
the cane matures in about ten months the harvest seasons fall irregularly
with respect to the seasons of rain. Therefore the land is cleared and planted
at irregular intervals and labor distributed somewhat through the year. There
is however a concentration of labor toward the end of the dry season when
most of the cane is cut for grinding.
The combined freight rate and government tax on coca, sugar, and
brandy take a large part of all that the planter can get for his crop. It is 120
miles (190 km.) from Santa Ana to Cuzco and it takes five days to make the
journey. The freight rate on coca and sugar for mule carriage, the only kind
to be had, is two cents per pound. The national tax is one cent per pound
(0.45 kg.). The coca sells for twenty cents a pound. The cost of production
is unknown, but the paid labor takes probably one-half this amount. The
planter’s time, capital, and profit must come out of the rest. On brandy there
is a national tax of seven cents per liter (0.26 gallon) and a municipal tax of
two and a half cents. It costs five cents a liter for transport to Cuzco. The
total in taxes and transport is fourteen and a half cents a liter. It sells for
twenty cents a liter. Since brandy (aguardiente), cacao (for chocolate), and
coca leaves (for cocaine) are the only precious substances which the valleys
produce it takes but a moment’s inspection to see how onerous these taxes
would be to the planter if labor did not, as usual, pay the penalty.
Much of the labor on the plantations is free of cost to the owner and is
done by the so-called faena or free Indians. These are Quechuas who have
built their cabins on the hill lands of the planters, or on the floors of the
smaller valleys. The disposition of their fields in relation to the valley
plantations is full of geographic interest. Each plantation runs at right
angles to the course of the valley. Hacienda Sahuayaco is ten miles (16 km.)
in extent down valley and forty miles (64 km.) from end to end across the
valley, and it is one of the smaller plantations! It follows that about ten
square miles lie on the valley floor and half of this can ultimately be
planted. The remaining three hundred and ninety square miles include some
mountain country with possible stores of mineral wealth, and a great deal of
“fells” country—grassy slopes, graded though steep, excellent for pasture,
with here and there patches of arable land. But the hill country can be
cultivated only by the small farmer who supplements his supply of food
from cultivated plants like potatoes, corn, and vegetables, by keeping cattle,
mules, pigs, and poultry, and by raising coca and fruit.
The Indian does not own any of the land he tills. He has the right merely
to live on it and to cultivate it. In return he must work a certain number of
days each year on the owner’s plantation. In many cases a small money
payment is also made to the planter. The planter prefers labor to money, for
hands are scarce throughout the whole eastern valley region. No Indian
need work on the planter’s land without receiving pay directly therefor.
Each also gets a small weekly allotment of aguardiente while in the
planter’s employ.
The scene every Saturday night outside the office of the contador
(treasurer) of a plantation is a novel one. Several hundred Indians gather in
the dark patio in front of the office. Within the circle of the feeble
candlelight that reaches only the margin of the crowd one may see a pack of
heavy, perspiring faces. Many are pock-marked from smallpox; here and
there an eye is missing; only a few are jovial. A name is shouted through the
open door and an Indian responds. He pulls off his cap and stands stupid
and blinking, while the contador asks:
“Faena” (free)?
“Si, Señor,” he answers.
 “Un sol” (one “sol” or fifty cents gold). The assistant hands over the
money and the man gives way to the next one on the list. If he is a laborer
in regular and constant employ he receives five soles (two fifty gold) per
week. There are interruptions now and then. A ragged, half-drunken man
has been leaning against the door post, suspiciously impatient to receive his
money. Finally his name is called.
“Faena?” asks the contador.
“No, Señor, cinco (five) soles.”
At that the field superintendente glances at his time card and speaks up
in protest.
“You were the man that failed to show up on Friday and Saturday. You
were drunk. You should receive nothing.”
“No, mi patrón,” the man contends, “I had to visit a sick cousin in the
next valley. Oh, he was very sick, Señor,” and he coughs harshly as if he too
were on the verge of prostration. The sick cousin, a faena Indian, has been
at work in another cane field on the same plantation for two days and now
calls out that he is present and has never had a sick day in his life. Those
outside laugh uproariously. The contador throws down two soles and the
drunkard is pushed back into the sweating crowd, jostled right and left, and
jeered by all his neighbors as he slinks away grumbling.
Another Indian seems strangely shy. He scarcely raises his voice above a
whisper. He too is a faena Indian. The contador finds fault.
“Why didn’t you come last month when I sent for you?”
The Indian fumbles his cap, shuffles his feet, and changes his coca cud
from one bulging cheek to the other before he can answer. Then huskily:
“I started, Señor, but my woman overtook me an hour afterward and said
that one of the ewes had dropped a lamb and needed care.”
“But your woman could have tended it!”
“No, Señor, she is sick.”
“How, then, could she have overtaken you?” he is asked.
“She ran only a little way and then shouted to me.”
“And what about the rest of the month?” persists the contador.
“The other lambs came, Señor, and I should have lost them all if I had
left.”
 The contador seems at the end of his complaint. The Indian promises to
work overtime. His difficulties seem at an end, but the superintendent looks
at his old record.
“He always makes the same excuse. Last year he was three weeks late.”
So the poor shepherd is fined a sol and admonished that his lands will be
given to some one else if he does not respond more promptly to his patron’s
call for work. He leaves behind him a promise and the rank mixed smell of
coca and much unwashed woolen clothing.
It is not alone at the work that they grumble. There is malaria in the
lower valleys. Some of them return to their lofty mountain homes prostrated
with the unaccustomed heat and alternately shaking with chills and burning
with fever. Without aid they may die or become so weakened that
tuberculosis carries them off. Only their rugged strength enables the greater
number to return in good health.
A plantation may be as large as a principality and draw its laborers from
places fifty miles away. Some of the more distant Indians need not come to
work in the canefields. Part of their flock is taken in place of work. Or they
raise horses and mules and bring in a certain number each year to turn over
to the patron. Hacienda Huadquiña (Fig. 46) takes in all the land from the
snow-covered summits of the Cordillera Vilcapampa to the canefields of the
Urubamba. Within the broad domain are half the climates and occupations
characteristic of Peru. It is difficult to see how a thousand Indians can be
held to even a mixed allegiance. It seems impossible that word can be got to
them. However the native “telegraph” is even more perfect than that among
the forest Indians. From one to the other runs the news that they are needed
in the canefields. On the trail to and from a mountain village, in their
ramblings from one high pasture to another, within the dark walls of their
stone and mud huts when they gather for a feast or to exchange drinks of
brandy and chicha—the word is passed that has come up from the valleys.
For every hundred faena Indians there are five or six regular laborers on
the plantations, so with the short term passed by the faena Indians their
number is generally half that of the total laborers at work at any one time.
They live in huts provided for them by the planter, and in the houses of their
friends among the regular laborers. Here there are almost nightly carousals.
The regular laborer comes from the city or the valley town. The faena
laborer is a small hill farmer or shepherd. They have much to exchange in
the way of clothing, food, and news. I have frequently had their
conversations interpreted for me. They ask about the flocks and the
children, who passed along the trails, what accidents befell the people.
“Last year,” droned one to another over their chicha, “last year we lost
three lambs in a hailstorm up in the high fields near the snow. It was very
cold. My foot cracked open and, though I have bound it with wet coca
leaves every night, it will not cure,” and he displays his heel, the skin of
which is like horn for hardness and covered with a crust of dirt whose
layers are a record of the weather and of the pools he has waded for years.
Their wanderings are the main basis of conversation. They know the
mountains better than the condors do. We hired a small boy of twelve at
Puquiura. He was to build our fires, carry water, and help drive the mules.
He crossed the Cordillera Vilcapampa on foot with us. He scrambled down
into the Apurimac canyon and up the ten thousand feet of ascent on the
other side, twisted the tails of the mules, and shouted more vigorously then
the arrieros. He was engaged to go with us to Pasaje, where his father
would return with him in a month. But he climbed to Huascatay with us and
said he wanted to see Abancay. When an Indian whom we pressed into
service dropped the instruments on the trail and fled into the brush the boy
packed them like a man. The soldier carried a tripod on his back. The boy,
not to be outdone, insisted on carrying the plane table, and to his delight we
called him a soldier too. He went with us to Huancarama. When I paid him
he smiled at the large silver soles that I put into his hand; and when I
doubled the amount for his willingness to work his joy was unbounded.
Forthwith he set out, this time on muleback, on the return journey. The last I
saw of him he was holding his precious soles in a handkerchief and kicking
his beast with his bare heels, as light-hearted as a cavalier. Often I find
myself wondering whether he returned safely with his money. I should very
much like to see him again, for with him I associate cheerfulness in difficult
places and many a pleasant camp-fire.
CHAPTER VII

THE GEOGRAPHIC BASIS OF REVOLUTIONS AND OF HUMAN

CHARACTER IN THE PERUVIAN ANDES
 HUMAN character as a spontaneous development has always been a great
factor in shaping historical events, but it is a striking fact that in the world
of our day its influence is exerted chiefly in the lowest and highest types of
humanity. The savage with his fetishes, his taboos, and his inherent
childlikeness and suspicion needs only whim or a slight religious pretext to
change his conduct. Likewise the really educated and the thoughtful act
from motives often wholly unrelated to economic conditions or results. But
the masses are deeply influenced by whatever affects their material welfare.
A purely idealistic impulse may influence a people, but in time its effects
are always displayed against an economic background.
There is a way whereby we may test this theory. In most places in the
world we have history in the making, and through field studies we can get
an intimate view of it. It is peculiarly the province of geography to study the
present distribution and character of men in relation to their surroundings
and these are the facts of mankind that must forever be the chief data of
economic history. It is not vain repetition to say that this means, first of all,
the study of the character of men in the fullest sense. It means, in the second
place, that a large part of the character must be really understood. Whenever
this is done there is found a geographic basis of human character that is
capable of the clearest demonstration. It is in the geographic environment
that the material motives of humanity have struck their deepest roots.
These conclusions might be illustrated from a hundred places in the field
of study covered in this book. Almost every chapter of Part I contains facts
of this character. I wish, however, to discuss the subject specifically and for
that purpose now turn to the conditions of life in the remoter mountain
valleys and to one or two aspects of the revolutions that occur now and then
in Peru. The last one terminated only a few months before our arrival and it
was a comparatively easy matter to study both causes and effects.
A caution is necessary however. It is a pity that we use the term
“revolution” to designate these little disturbances. They affect sometimes a
few, again a few hundred men. Rarely do they involve the whole country. A
good many of them are on a scale much smaller than our big strikes. Most
of them involve a loss of life smaller than that which accompanies a city
riot. They are in a sense strikes against the government, marked by local
disorders and a little violence.
 Early in 1911 the Prefect of the Department of Abancay had crowned his
long career by suppressing a revolution. He had been Subprefect at
Andahuaylas, and when the rebels got control of the city of Abancay and
destroyed some of the bridges on the principal trails, he promptly organized
a military expedition, constructed rafts, floated his small force of men
across the streams, and besieged the city. The rebel force was driven at last
to take shelter in the city jail opposite the Prefectura. There, after the loss of
half their number, they finally surrendered. Seventy-five of them were sent
to the government penitentiary at Arequipa. Among the killed were sons
from nearly half the best families of Abancay. All of the rebels were young
men.
It would be difficult to give an adequate idea of the hatred felt by the
townspeople toward the government. Every precaution was taken to prevent
a renewal of the outbreak. Our coming was telegraphed ahead by
government agents who looked with suspicion upon a party of men, well
armed and provisioned, coming up from the Pasaje crossing of the
Apurimac, three days’ journey north. The deep canyon affords shelter not
only to game, but also to fugitives, rebels, and bandits. The government
generally abandons pursuit on the upper edge of the canyon, for only a
prolonged guerilla warfare could completely subdue an armed force
scattered along its rugged walls and narrow floor. The owner of the
hacienda at Pasaje is required to keep a record of all passengers rafted
across the Apurimac, but he explains significantly that some who pass are
too hurried to write their names in his book. Once he reaches the eastern
wall of the canyon a fugitive may command a view of the entire western
wall and note the approach of pursuers. Thence eastward he has the whole
Cordillera Vilcapampa in which to hide. Pursuit is out of the question.
When we arrived, the venerable Prefect, a model of old-fashioned
courtesy, greeted us with the utmost cordiality. He told us of our movements
since leaving Pasaje, and laughingly explained that since we had sent him
no friendly message and had come from a rebel retreat, he had taken it for
granted that we intended to storm the town. I assured him that we were
ready to join his troops, if necessary, whereupon, with a delightful
frankness, he explained his method of keeping the situation in hand. Several
troops of cavalry and two battalions of infantry were quartered at the
government barracks. Every evening the old gentleman, a Colonel in the
Peruvian army, mounted a powerful gray horse and rode, quite unattended,
through the principal streets of the town. Several times I walked on foot
behind him, again I preceded him, stopping in shops on the way to make
trivial purchases, to find out what the people had to say about him and the
government as he rode by. One old gentleman interested me particularly. He
had only the day before called at the Prefectura to pay his respects.
Although his manner was correct there was lacking to a noticeable degree
the profusion of sentiment that is apt to be exhibited on such an occasion.
He now sat on a bench in a shop. Both his own son and the shopkeeper’s
son had been slain in the revolution. It was natural that they should be
bitter. But the precise nature of their complaint was what interested me
most. One said that he did not object to having his son lose his life for his
country. But that his country’s officials should hire Indians to shoot his son
seemed to him sheer murder. Later, at Lambrama, I talked with a rebel
fugitive, and that was also his complaint. The young men drafted into the
army are Indians, or mixed, never whites. White men, and men with a small
amount of Indian blood, officer the army. When a revolutionary party
organizes it is of course made up wholly of men of white and mixed blood,
never Indians. The Indians have no more grievance against one white party
than another. Both exploit him to the limit of law and beyond the limit of
decency. He fights if he must, but never by choice.

Fig. 56—The type of forest in Fig. 57—Arboreal cacti in the

the moister tracts of the valley mixed forest of the dry valley
floor at Sahuayaco. In the floor below Sahuayaco.
center of the photograph is a
tree known as the “sandy
 matico” used in making canoes
for river navigation.

Fig. 58—Crossing the Apurimac at Pasaje. These are

mountain horses, small and wiry, with a protective coat of long
hair. They are accustomed to graze in the open without shelter
during the entire winter.
Fig. 59—Crossing the Apurimac at Pasaje. The mules are
blindfolded and pushed off the steep bank into the water and
rafted across.

Thus Indian troops killed the white rebels of Abancay.

“Tell me, Señor,” said the fugitive, “if you think that just. Tell me how
many Indians you think a white man worth. Would a hundred dead Indians
matter? But how replace a white man where there are so few? The
government assassinated my compatriots!”
“But,” I replied, “why did you fight the government? All of you were
prosperous. Your fathers may have had a grievance against the government,
but of what had you young men to complain?”
His reply was far from convincing. He was at first serious, but his long
abstract statements about taxes and government wastefulness trailed off into
vagueness, and he ended in a laughing mood, talking about adventure, the
restless spirit of young men, and the rich booty of confiscated lands and
property had the rebels won. He admitted that it was a reckless game, but
when I called him a mere soldier of fortune he grew serious once more and
reverted to the iniquitous taxation system of Peru. Further inquiry made it
quite clear that the ill-fated revolution of Abancay was largely the work of
idle young men looking for adventure. It seemed a pity that their splendid
physical energy could not have been turned into useful channels. The land
sorely needs engineers, progressive ranchmen and farmers, upright officials,
and a spirit of respect for law and order. Old men talked of the unstable
character of the young men of the time, but almost all of them had
themselves been active participants in more than one revolution of earlier
years.
Every night at dinner the Prefect sent off by government telegraph a long
message to the President of the Republic on the state of the Department,
and received similar messages from the central government about
neighboring departments. These he read to us, and, curiously enough, to the
entire party, made up of army officers and townsmen. I was surprised to
find later that the company included one government official whose son had
been among the imprisoned rebels at Arequipa. We met the young man a
week later at a mountain village, a day after a general amnesty had been
declared. His escape had been made from the prison a month before. He
forcibly substituted the mess-boy’s clothing for his own, and thus passed
out unnoticed. After a few days’ hiding in the city, he set out alone across
the desert of Vitor, thence across the lofty volcanic country of the Maritime
Andes, through some of the most deserted, inhospitable land in Peru, and at
the end of three weeks had reached Lambrama, near Abancay, the picture of
health!
Later I came to have a better notion of the economic basis of the
revolution, for obviously the planters and the reckless young men must
have had a mutual understanding. Somewhere the rebels had obtained the
sinews of war. The planters did not take an open part in the revolution, but
they financed it. When the rebels were crushed, the planters, at least
outwardly, welcomed the government forces. Inwardly they cursed them for
thwarting their scheme. The reasons have an interesting geographic basis.
Abancay is the center of a sugar region. Great irrigated estates are spread
out along the valley floor and the enormous alluvial fans built into the main
valley at the mouths of the tributary streams. There is a heavy tax on sugar
and on aguardiente (brandy) manufactured from cane juice. The
hacendados had dreamed of lighter taxes. The rebels offered the means of
securing relief. But taxes were not the real reason for the unrest, for many
other sugar producers pay the tax without serious complaint. Abancay is cut
off from the rest of Peru by great mountains. Toward the west, via
Antabamba, Cotahuasi, and Chuquibamba, two hundred miles of trail
separate its plantations from the Pacific. Twelve days’ hard riding is
required to reach Lima over the old colonial trade route. It is three days to
Cuzco at the end of the three-hundred-mile railway from the port of
Mollendo. The trails to the Atlantic rivers are impossible for trading
purposes. Deep sunk in a subtropical valley, the irrigable alluvial land of
Abancay tempts the production of sugar.
But nature offers no easy route out of the valley. For centuries the
product has been exported at almost prohibitive cost, as in the eastern valley
of Santa Ana. The coastal valleys enjoy easy access to the sea. Each has its
own port at the valley mouth, where ocean steamers call for cargo. Many
have short railway lines from port to valley head. The eastern valleys and
Abancay have been clamoring for railways, better trails, and wagon roads.
From the public fund they get what is left. The realization of their hopes has
been delayed too long. It would be both economic and military strategy to
give them the desired railway. Revolutions in Peru always start in one of
two ways: either by a coup at Lima or an unchecked uprising in an interior
province. Bolivia has shown the way out of this difficulty. Two of her four
large centers—La Paz and Oruro—are connected by rail, and the line to
Cochabamba lacks only a few kilometres of construction.[16] To Sucre a
line has been long projected. Formerly a revolution at one of the four towns
was exceedingly difficult to stamp out. Diaz had the same double motive in
encouraging railway building in the remote desert provinces of Northern
Mexico, where nine out of ten Mexican revolutions gather headway.
Argentina has enjoyed a high degree of political unity since her railway
system was extended to Córdoba and Tucumán. The last uprising, that of
1906, took place on her remotest northeastern frontier.
We had ample opportunity to see the hatred of the rebels. At nightfall of
September 25th we rode into the courtyard of Hacienda Auquibamba. We
had traveled under the worst possible circumstances. Our mules had been
enfeebled by hot valley work at Santa Ana and the lower Urubamba and the
cold mountain climate of the Cordillera Vilcapampa. The climb out of the
Apurimac canyon, even without packs, left them completely exhausted. We
were obliged to abandon one and actually to pull another along. It had been
a hard day in spite of a prolonged noon rest. Everywhere our letters of
introduction had won an outpouring of hospitality among a people to whom
hospitality is one of the strongest of the unwritten laws of society. Our
soldier escort rode ahead of the pack train.
As the clatter of his mules’ hoofs echoed through the dark buildings the
manager rushed out, struck a light and demanded “Who’s there?” To the
soldier’s cheerful “Buena noche, Señor,” he sneeringly replied “Halto!
Guardia de la República, aqui hay nada para un soldado del gobierno.”
Whereupon the soldier turned back to me and said we should not be able to
stop here, and coming nearer me he whispered “He is a revolutionary.” I
dismounted and approached the haughty manager, who was in a really
terrible mood. Almost before I could begin to ask him for accommodations
he rattled off that there was no pasture for our beasts, no food for us, and
that we had better go on to the next hacienda. “Absolutamente nada!” he
repeated over and over again, and at first I thought him drunk. Since it was
then quite dark, with no moon, but instead heavy black clouds over the
southern half of the sky and a brisk valley wind threatening rain, I mildly
protested that we needed nothing more than shelter. Our food boxes would
supply our wants, and our mules, even without fodder, could reach Abancay
the next day. Still he stormed at the government and would have none of us.
I reminded him that his fields were filled with sugar cane and that it was the
staple forage for beasts during the part of the year when pasture was scarce.
The cane was too valuable, he said. It was impossible to supply us. I was on
the point of pitching camp beside the trail, for it was impossible to reach the
next hacienda with an exhausted outfit.
Just then an older man stepped into the circle of light and amiably
inquired the purpose of our journey. When it was explained, he turned to the
other and said it was unthinkable that men should be treated so inhospitably
in a strange land. Though he himself was a guest he urged that the host
should remember the laws of hospitality, whereupon the latter at last
grudgingly asked us to join him at his table and to turn our beasts over to
his servants. It was an hour or more before he would exhibit any interest in
us. When he had learned of our object in visiting Abancay he became
somewhat more friendly, though his hostility still manifested itself.
Nowhere else in South America have I seen exhibited such boorish conduct.
Nevertheless the next morning I noticed that our mules had been well fed.
He said good-by to us as if he were glad to be rid of any one in any way
connected with the hostile government. Likewise the manager at Hacienda
Pasaje held out almost until the last before he would consent to aid us with
fresh beasts. Finally, after a day of courting I gave him a camp chair. He
was so pleased that he not only gave us beasts, but also a letter of
introduction to one of his caretakers on a farm at the top of the cuesta. Here
on a cold, stormy night we found food and fuel and the shelter of a friendly
roof.
A by-product of the revolution, as of all revolutions in thinly settled
frontier regions, was the organization of small bands of outlaws who
infested the lonely trails, stole beasts, and left their owners robbed and
helpless far from settlements. We were cautioned to beware of them, both
by Señor Gonzales, the Prefect at Abancay, and by the Subprefect of
Antabamba. Since some of the bandits had been jailed, I could not doubt the
accuracy of the reports, but I did doubt stories of murder and of raids by
large companies of mountain bandits. As a matter of fact we were robbed by
the Governor of Antabamba, but in a way that did not enable us to find
redress in either law or lead. The story is worth telling because it illustrates
two important facts: first, the vile so-called government that exists in some
places in the really remote sections of South America, and second, the
character of the mountain Indians.
The urgent letter from the Prefect of Abancay to the Subprefect of
Antabamba quickly brought the latter from his distant home. When we
arrived we found him drinking with the Governor. The Subprefect was most
courteous. The Governor was good-natured, but his face exhibited a rare
combination of cruelty and vice. We were offered quarters in the municipal
building for the day or two that we were obliged to stop in the town. The
delay enabled us to study the valley to which particular interest attaches
because of its situation in the mountain zone between the lofty pastures of
the Alpine country and the irrigated fields of the valley farmers.
Antabamba itself lies on a smooth, high-level shoulder of the youthful
Antabamba Valley. The valley floor is narrow and rocky, and affords little
cultivable land. On the valley sides are steep descents and narrow benches,
chiefly structural in origin, over which there is scattered a growth of scrub,
sufficient to screen the deer and the bear, and, more rarely, vagrant bands of
vicuña that stray down from their accustomed haunts in the lofty Cordillera.
Three thousand feet above the valley floor a broad shoulder begins (Fig. 60)
and slopes gently up to the bases of the true mountains that surmount the
broad rolling summit platform. Here are the great pasture lands of the
Andes and their semi-nomadic shepherds. The highest habitation in the
world is located here at 17,100 feet (5,210 m.), near a secondary pass only a
few miles from the main axis of the western chain, and but 300 feet (91 m.)
below it.
The people of Antabamba are both shepherds and farmers. The elevation
is 12,000 feet (3,658 m.), too high and exposed for anything more than
potatoes. Here is an Indian population pure-blooded, and in other respects,
too, but little altered from its original condition. There is almost no
communication with the outside world. A deep canyon fronts the town and a
lofty mountain range forms the background.
At nightfall, one after another, the Indians came in from the field and
doffed their caps as they passed our door. Finally came the “Teniente
Gobernador,” or Lieutenant Governor. He had only a slight strain of white
blood. His bearing was that of a sneak, and he confirmed this impression by
his frank disdain for his full-blooded townsmen. “How ragged and ugly
they are! You people must find them very stupid,” etc. When he found that
we had little interest in his remarks, he asked us if we had ever seen Lima.
We replied that we had, whereupon he said, “Do you see the gilded cross
above the church yonder? I brought that on muleback all the way from
Lima! Think of it! These ignorant people have never seen Lima!” His whole
manner as he drew himself up and hit his breast was intended to make us
think that he was vastly superior to his neighbors. The sequel shows that our
first estimate of him was correct.
We made our arrangements with the Governor and departed. To inspire
confidence, and at the Governor’s urgent request, we had paid in advance
for our four Indians and our fresh beasts—and at double the usual rates, for
it was still winter in the Cordillera. They were to stay with us until we
reached Cotahuasi, in the next Department beyond the continental divide,
where a fresh outfit could be secured. The Lieutenant Governor
accompanied us to keep the party together. They appeared to need it. Like
our Indian peons at Lambrama the week before, these had been taken from
the village jail and represented the scum of the town. As usual they behaved
well the first day. On the second night we reached the Alpine country where
the vegetation is very scanty and camped at the only spot that offered fuel
and water. The elevation was 16,000, and here we had the lowest
temperature of the whole journey, +6° F. (-14.4° C.). Ice covered the brook
near camp as soon as the sun went down and all night long the wind blew
down from the lofty Cordillera above us, bringing flurries of snow and
tormenting our unprotected beasts. It seemed to me doubtful if our Indians
would remain. I discussed with the other members of the party the
desirability of chaining the peons to the tent pole, but this appeared so
extreme a measure that we abandoned the idea after warning the Teniente
that he must not let them escape.
At daybreak I was alarmed at the unusual stillness about camp. A glance
showed that half our hobbled beasts had drifted back toward Antabamba
and no doubt were now miles away. The four Indian peons had left also, and
their tracks, half buried by the last snowfall, showed that they had left hours
before and that it was useless to try to overtake them. Furthermore we were
making a topographic map across the Cordillera, and, in view of the
likelihood of snow blockading the 17,600-foot (5,360 m.) pass which we
had to cross, the work ought not to be delayed. With all these disturbing
conditions to meet, and suffering acutely from mountain sickness, I could
scarcely be expected to deal gently with our official. I drew out the sleeping
Teniente and set him on his feet. To my inquiry as to the whereabouts of the
Indians that he had promised to guard, he blinked uncertainly, and after a
stupid “Quien sabe?” peered under the cover of a sheepskin near by as if the
peons had been transformed into insects and had taken refuge under a blade
of grass. I ordered him to get breakfast and after that to take upon his back
the instruments that two men had carried up to that time, and accompany
the topographer. Thus loaded, the Lieutenant Governor of Antabamba set
out on foot a little ahead of the party. Hendriksen, the topographer, directed
him to a 17,000-foot peak near camp, one of the highest stations occupied
in the traverse. When the topographer reached the summit the instruments
were there but the Teniente had fled. Hendriksen rapidly followed the tracks
down over the steep snow-covered wall of a deeply recessed cirque, but
after a half-hour’s search could not get sight of the runaway, whereupon he
returned to his station and took his observations, reaching camp in the early
afternoon.
In the meantime I had intercepted two Indians who had come from
Cotahuasi driving a llama train loaded with corn. They held a long
conversation at the top of the pass above camp and at first edged
suspiciously away. But the rough ground turned them back into the trail and
at last they came timidly along. They pretended not to understand Spanish
and protested vigorously that they had to keep on with their llamas. I
thought from the belligerent attitude of the older, which grew rapidly more
threatening as he saw that I was alone, that I was in for trouble, but when I
drew my revolver he quickly obeyed the order to sit down to breakfast,
which consisted of soup, meat, and army biscuits. I also gave them coca and
cigarettes, the two most desirable gifts one can make to a plateau Indian,
and thereupon I thought I had gained their friendship, for they at last talked
with me in broken Spanish. The older one now explained that he must at all
hazards reach Matará by nightfall, but he would be glad to leave his son to
help us. I agreed, and he set out forthwith. The arriero (muleteer) had now
returned with the lost mules and with the assistance of the Indian we soon
struck camp and loaded our mules. I cautioned the arriero to keep close
watch of the Indian, for at one time I had caught on his face an expression
of hatred more intense than I had ever seen before. The plateau Indian of
South America is usually so stupid and docile that the unexpectedly
venomous look of the man after our friendly conversation and my good
treatment alarmed me. At the last moment, and when our backs were turned,
our Indian, under the screen of the packs, slipped away from us. The arriero
called out to know where he had gone. It took us but a few moments to gain
the top of a hill that commanded the valley. Fully a half-mile away and
almost indistinguishable against the brown of the valley floor was our late
assistant, running like a deer. No mule could follow over that broken
ground at an elevation of 16,000 feet, and so he escaped.
Fortunately that afternoon we passed a half-grown boy riding back
toward Antabamba and he promised to hand the Governor a note in
Spanish, penciled on a leaf of my traverse book. I dropped all the polite
phrases that are usually employed and wrote as follows:
“Señor Gobernador:
“Your Indians have escaped, likewise the Lieutenant Governor. They have taken two
beasts. In the name of the Prefect of Abancay, I ask you immediately to bring a fresh
supply of men and animals. We shall encamp near the first pass, three days west of
Antabamba, until you come.”

We were now without Indians to carry the instruments, which had

therefore to be strapped to the mules. Without guides we started westward
along the trail. At the next pass the topographer rode to the summit of a
bluff and asked which of the two trails I intended to follow. Just then a
solitary Indian passed and I shouted back that I would engage the Indian
and precede the party, and he could tell from my course at the fork of the
trail how to direct his map and where to gain camp at nightfall. But the
Indian refused to go with us. All my threatening was useless and I had to
force myself to beat him into submission with my quirt. Several repetitions
on the way, when he stubbornly refused to go further, kept our guide with
us until we reached a camp site. I had offered him a week’s pay for two
hours’ work, and had put coca and cigarettes into his hands. When these
failed I had to resort to force. Now that he was about to leave I gave him
double the amount I had promised him. He could scarcely believe his eyes.
He rushed up to the side of my mule, and reaching around my waist
embraced me and thanked me again and again. The plateau Indian is so
often waylaid in the mountains and impressed for service, then turned loose
without pay or actually robbed, that a promise to pay holds no attraction for
him. I had up to the last moment resembled this class of white. He was
astonished to find that I really meant to pay him well.
Then he set out upon the return, faithfully delivering my note to the
topographer about the course of the trail and the position of the camp. He
had twelve miles to go to the first mountain hut, so that he could not have
traveled less than that distance to reach shelter. The next morning a mantle
of snow covered everything, yet when I pushed back the tent flap there
stood my scantily clad Indian of the night before, shivering, with sandaled
feet in the snow, saying that he had come back to work for me!
This camp was number thirteen out of Abancay, and here our
topographer was laid up for three days. Heretofore the elevation had had no
effect upon him, but the excessively lofty stations of the past few days and
the hard climbing had finally prostrated him. We had decided to carry him
out by the fourth day if he felt no better, but happily he recovered
sufficiently to continue the work. The delay enabled the Governor to
overtake us with a fresh outfit. On the morning of our third day in camp he
overtook us with a small escort of soldiers accompanied by the fugitive
Teniente. He said that he had come to arrest me on the charge of maltreating
an official of Peru. A few packages of cigarettes and a handful of raisins and
biscuits so stirred his gratitude that we parted the best of friends. Moreover
he provided us with four fresh beasts and four new men, and thus equipped
we set out for a rendezvous about ten miles away. But the faithless
Governor turned off the trail and sought shelter at the huts of a company of
mountain shepherds. That night his men slept on the ground in a bitter wind
just outside our camp at 17,200 feet. They complained that they had no
food. The Governor had promised to join us with llama meat for the peons.
We fed them that night and also the next day. But we had by that time
passed the crest of the western Cordillera and were outside the province of
Antabamba. The next morning not only our four men but also our four
beasts were missing. We were stranded and sick just under the pass. To add
to our distress the surgeon, Dr. Erving, was obliged to leave us for the
return home, taking the best saddle animal and the strongest pack mule. It
was impossible to go on with the map. That morning I rode alone up a side
valley until I reached a shepherd’s hut, where I could find only a broken-
down, shuffling old mule, perfectly useless for our hard work.
Then there happened a piece of good luck that seems almost
providential. A young man came down the trail with three pack mules
loaded with llama meat. He had come from the Cotahuasi Valley the week
before and knew the trail. I persuaded him to let us hire one of his mules. In
this way and by leaving the instruments and part of our gear in the care of
two Indian youths we managed to get to Cotahuasi for rest and a new outfit.
The young men who took charge of part of our outfit interested me very
greatly. I had never seen elsewhere so independent and clear-eyed a pair of
mountain Indians. At first they would have nothing to do with us. They
refused us permission to store our goods in their hut. To them we were
railroad engineers. They said that the railway might come and when it did it
would depopulate the country. The railway was a curse. Natives were
obliged to work for the company without pay. Their uncle had told them of
frightful abuses over at Cuzco and had warned them not to help the railway
people in any way. They had moved out here in a remote part of the
mountains so that white men could not exploit them.
In the end, however, we got them to understand the nature of our work.
Gifts of various sorts won their friendship, and they consented to guard the
boxes we had to leave behind. Two weeks later, on his return, the
topographer found everything unmolested.
I could not but feel that the spirit of those strong and independent young
men was much better for Peru than the cringing, subservient spirit of most
Welcome to Our Bookstore - The Ultimate Destination for Book Lovers
Are you passionate about testbank and eager to explore new worlds of
knowledge? At our website, we offer a vast collection of books that
cater to every interest and age group. From classic literature to
specialized publications, self-help books, and children’s stories, we
have it all! Each book is a gateway to new adventures, helping you
expand your knowledge and nourish your soul
Experience Convenient and Enjoyable Book Shopping Our website is more
than just an online bookstore—it’s a bridge connecting readers to the
timeless values of culture and wisdom. With a sleek and user-friendly
interface and a smart search system, you can find your favorite books
quickly and easily. Enjoy special promotions, fast home delivery, and
a seamless shopping experience that saves you time and enhances your
love for reading.
Let us accompany you on the journey of exploring knowledge and
personal growth!

ebooksecure.com