Scarcely had we climbed out of the valley of Huancahuanca and surmounted the ridge when we came in sight of more artificial terraces.  Beyond a broad, deep valley rose the extinct volcanic cone of Mt.  Sarasara, now relatively close at hand, its lower slopes separated from us by another canyon.  Snow lay in the gulches and ravines near the top of the mountain.  Our road ran near the towns of Pararca and Colcabamba, the latter much like Colta, a straggling village of thatched huts surrounded by hundreds of terraces.  The vegetation on the valley slopes indicated occasional rains.  Near Pararca we passed fields of barley and wheat growing on old stone-faced terraces.  On every hand were signs of a fairly large population engaged in agriculture, utilizing fields which had been carefully prepared for them by their ancestors.  They were not using all, however.  We noticed hundreds of terraces that did not appear to have been under cultivation recently.  They may have been lying fallow temporarily.

Our arrieros avoided the little towns, and selected a camp site on the roadside near the Finca Rodadero.  After all, when one has a comfortable tent, good food, and skillful arrieros it is far pleasanter to spend the night in the clean, open country, even at an elevation of 12,000 or 13,000 feet, than to be surrounded by the smells and noises of an Indian town.

The next morning we went through some wheat fields, past the town of Puyusca, another large Indian village of thatched adobe houses placed high on the shoulder of a rocky hill so as to leave the best arable land available for agriculture.  It is in a shallow, well-watered valley, full of springs.  The appearance of the country had changed entirely since we left Cotahuasi.  The desert and its steep-walled canyons seemed to be far behind us.  Here was a region of gently sloping hills, covered with terraces, where the cereals of the temperate zone appeared to be easily grown.  Finally, leaving the grain fields, we climbed up to a shallow depression in the low range at the head of the valley and found ourselves on the rim of a great upland basin more than twenty miles across.  In the center of the basin was a large, oval lake.  Its borders were pink.  The water in most of the lake was dark blue, but near the shore the water was pink, a light salmon-pink.  What could give it such a curious color?  Nothing but flamingoes, countless thousands of flamingoes—­Parinacochas at last!

CHAPTER IV

Flamingo Lake

The Parinacochas Basin is at an elevation of between 11,500 and 12,000 feet above sea level.  It is about 150 miles northwest of Arequipa and 170 miles southwest of Cuzco, and enjoys a fair amount of rainfall.  The lake is fed by springs and small streams.  In past geological times the lake, then very much larger, had an outlet not far from the town of Puyusca.  At present Parinacochas has no visible outlet.