Our next stop was at Lucma, the home of Teniente Gobernador Mogrovejo.  The village of Lucma is an irregular cluster of about thirty thatched-roofed huts.  It enjoys a moderate amount of prosperity due to the fact of its being located near one of the gateways to the interior, the pass to the rubber estates in the San Miguel Valley.  Here are “houses of refreshment” and two shops, the only ones in the region.  One can buy cotton cloth, sugar, canned goods and candles.  A picturesque belfry and a small church, old and somewhat out of repair, crown the small hill back of the village.  There is little level land, but the slopes are gentle, and permit a considerable amount of agriculture.

There was no evidence of extensive terracing.  Maize and alfalfa seemed to be the principal crops.  Evaristo Mogrovejo lived on the little plaza around which the houses of the more important people were grouped.  He had just returned from Santa Ana by the way of Idma, using a much worse trail than that over which we had come, but one which enabled him to avoid passing through Paltaybamba, with whose proprietor he was not on good terms.  He told us stories of misadventures which had happened to travelers at the gates of Paltaybamba, stories highly reminiscent of feudal days in Europe, when provincial barons were accustomed to lay tribute on all who passed.

We offered to pay Mogrovejo a gratificacion of a sol, or Peruvian silver dollar, for every ruin to which he would take us, and double that amount if the locality should prove to contain particularly interesting ruins.  This aroused all his business instincts.  He summoned his alcaldes and other well-informed Indians to appear and be interviewed.  They told us there were “many ruins” hereabouts!  Being a practical man himself, Mogrovejo had never taken any interest in ruins.  Now he saw the chance not only to make money out of the ancient sites, but also to gain official favor by carrying out with unexampled vigor the orders of his superior, the sub-prefect of Quillabamba.  So he exerted himself to the utmost in our behalf.

The next day we were guided up a ravine to the top of the ridge back of Lucma.  This ridge divides the upper from the lower Vilcabamba.  On all sides the hills rose several thousand feet above us.  In places they were covered with forest growth, chiefly above the cloud line, where daily moisture encourages vegetation.  In some of the forests on the more gentle slopes recent clearings gave evidence of enterprise on the part of the present inhabitants of the valley.  After an hour’s climb we reached what were unquestionably the ruins of Inca structures, on an artificial terrace which commands a magnificent view far down toward Paltaybamba and the bridge of Chuquichaca, as well as in the opposite direction.  The contemporaries of Captain Garcia speak of a number of forts or pucaras which had to be stormed and captured before Tupac Amaru could be taken prisoner.  This was probably one of those “fortresses.”  Its strategic position and the ease with which it could be defended point to such an interpretation.  Nevertheless this ruin did not fit the “fortress of Pitcos,” nor the “House of the Sun” near the “white rock over the spring.”  It is called Incahuaracana, “the place where the Inca shoots with a sling.”