The worldview and psychological field of South and Central America is so uneven, so replete with bright flashes, black clots, virgin whiteness, play of all colors and shades, that the colors of the rainbow seem to be too pale a set of means to convey all this diversity. It seems that mysticism and magic emanate from the very pores of the South American land; their impact is felt by every foreigner, as soon as he enters the boundaries of Abya Yala.
The appearance of the ancient Inca leader
A strange floral scent suddenly enveloped me, and for a moment I lost consciousness. The Peruvian engineer Salas, who hastened to help me, anxiously said "Sorry …". This did not surprise me. I recognized this word for the name of the disease of the Andean mountains, often afflicting foreigners. Another thing surprised me. At the moment when Salas rushed to me, and I had already come to my senses, I clearly saw how the European clothes of my companion disappeared somewhere. He was wearing a light tunic, intercepted by a wide belt studded with magic signs, on his head a narrow gold hoop decorated with three bright feathers of a sacred bird, sandals (okotos) with a gilded weave on his feet. In short, the costume of the ancient Inca.
"How do you feel?" - I heard, but not in Spanish, but in Quechua, the language of the ancient Incas. In surprise, I muttered something in response in the same language, although I was again facing a European-dressed (and European-educated) engineer, not an Indian chief. What is this metamorphosis?
Finding no clearer explanation, I attributed all this to my post-faint. Of course, I didn't say anything to Salas about his reincarnations. He will laugh again!.. And apparently, my fears were in vain. A few years later, one of my Peruvian friends, a medical doctor, said after listening to my story:
“Yes, perhaps it was a simple hallucination, and perhaps not … In our souls of Europeanized mestizos, in moments of emotional stress, an Indian ancestor often wakes up and dominates. Probably something similar happened to Salas. And the flow of energy emanating from him at that moment made you, knowing our history, see in the man hurrying to your aid, the ancient Inca leader."
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Mysterious Light
The incident described above happened in the night of April 1971, about 20-25 km from the ancient city of Machu Picchu, discovered in 1911. Due to a number of circumstances, my Peruvian friend and I were forced at night looking to set off on foot in a fifty-kilometer path along the sleepers lying at random. The space between them was littered with pieces of broken stone; its sharp edges cut the shoe like a razor. It tired us terribly, literally exhausted us. We encountered a lot of strange and extraordinary things along the way: fires kindled by "uncivilized" Indians, from whom at any moment one could expect an arrow filled with curare poison; streams flowing from inaccessible peaks with water that tastes like Borjomi, but absolutely unsuitable for drinking due to the abundance of pathogenic bacteria; the lady of the mountains - puma. The narrow gauge track took us from valley to valleyfrom gorge to gorge. And I, like never before, felt for myself what a microclimate is.
One valley was directly adjacent to the mountain river Urubamba, constrained by stone, often broken banks. The river spawned, roared like a hundred-headed herd of African elephants, and most importantly, sent a thick and cold, bone-chilling fog into the valley.
In the other valley, on the contrary, there was stuffiness and tropical heat; Urubamba's voice was barely audible. But nearby something was chomping, squelching, groaning and howling. I involuntarily recalled the truly superhuman octave range of Ima-Sumah, a popular Peruvian singer of the 50s and 60s.
In the third valley it was raining, and in the fourth, from hellish dryness, the tongue stuck to the larynx. From such frequent and abrupt changes the last forces leave, you begin to orient yourself poorly both in the direction and in time.
And it got really bad when a huge cloud tightly covered the moon. In complete darkness, moving along the sleepers is sheer torment.
"Suyariy, wauke, suyari … Kunanlya …" Salas hastily and for some reason muttered in a half-whisper at Quechua. - "Wait, brother, wait … Now …"
And a European educated person, a candidate of technical sciences, raising his hands to the sky, recited several times the ancient Inca song-prayer:
The atmosphere of a deep tropical night, filled with mythicity and mystery, was such that I was not at all surprised when a piece of clear sky formed around the moon, returning us, albeit pale, but saving light. "Mystic!" - I could only whisper …
But what is it?.. Ahead of us, a few kilometers away, a light loomed. "Strange …," said my companion, "there is no village there." And the light was seen more and more clearly. Exhausted by thirst and the first tens of kilometers of a difficult journey, I already saw a spacious veranda filled with comfortable chairs and people sitting in them, drinking beer and Coca-Cola. However, as they approached, the images of the veranda, chairs and people scattered one after another. But a large lit area of space remained. The light was, as it were, limited by some invisible barriers, it was as if it was enclosed in an invisible room measuring 7-8 thousand cubic meters (according to a very rough estimate that I am doing today). But there was no light source, at least it was invisible.
Between the narrow-gauge railway and the border of this light pool, which is closest to us, there were a hundred or two hundred meters. But it was impossible to walk this distance, and not only because of fatigue, but because of such dense thickets of the Peruvian jungle that it would take sharp axes and many hours of labor to break through to the light. And was it really necessary? And what, after all, is this light? I turned a questioning gaze on Salas.
"According to our beliefs," he explained, "such a light appears over those places where the Inca treasures are buried." Neither Salas nor I developed this topic further. We were so exhausted that we were ready to give all the gold in the world for a sip of fresh water. And gold and diamonds at that moment for us, left alone with the sky, mountains and jungle, were not of the slightest interest.
We moved on … As I later scolded myself for not having bothered to, in spite of my difficult physical condition, mark the point on the terrain plan the next day where the air shone.
Strange forgetfulness or revelation of a Quechua Indian
Everyday worries prevented me from doing this in the following days, months, years, and when a few years later I made this attempt, to my chagrin, it turned out that I had hopelessly forgotten where that point of our path was located, where the Peruvian land was ready to reveal to us one of their secrets. However, when, decades later, I shared my grief with an elderly Quechua Indian, he said:
“Our land from time to time points to the ancient burials of treasures, not to be plundered, but to be admired and respected. That is why the light appears in front of people when they are not ready to dig its bowels. And then, the person who saw the light loses the memory of where this event happened, and often forgets about the event itself. This is our belief."
How effective this belief is, I have experienced myself: today I could determine the place of an ancient burial only approximately, on a route section of 20-25 km.
Cusco Golden Garden
So, I first touched on the issue of the legendary wealth of the ancient Incas. Let me now tell the readers about them. And I'll start with the legacy of the Inca Tarsilasa, the son of the Spanish conquistador and one of the last Inca Newst (princess-vestals of the Sun).
It is not possible to cite all the passages from the chronicle written by him, in which he talks about the Inca treasures. I will quote only a few lines dedicated to the so-called "Golden Garden" or "Golden Fence". It was the square adjacent to the Temple of the Sun in the Inca capital, Cuzco.
“That enclosed place,” writes the chronicler, “in the time of the Incas was a garden of gold, silver and platinum … It contained a multitude of various grasses and flowers made of these metals, small shrubs and large trees, many animals large and small, wild and domestic … snakes, large and small lizards, snails, butterflies, small and large birds - and each thing was positioned in such a way and in such a place that it looked as natural as possible. There was also a large field of maize and quinua grains, as well as other life-size vegetables and fruit-bearing fruit trees made entirely of gold, silver and platinum. In the house there were bundles of firewood melted out of gold, silver and platinum, there were large figures of men, women and children, cast from the same metals … They (goldsmiths - Yu. Z.) made an infinite number of dishes that were kept in the temple …,including pots, jugs, small and large vessels. In that house (the temple complex - Yu. Z.) there was no thing that was used for any need, so that it would not be made of gold, silver or platinum, including picks and spades … For this reason, with good reason and accuracy they called the Temple of the Sun and the entire palace "Kori Kancha", which means "Golden Quarter".
Where are the Inca treasures hidden?
There were similar miracles in other cities of the empire. Where did these untold treasures go? A significant part of them was paid by the Indians for the release of Atahualpa, the Only Inca (title of the emperor - Yu. Z.), treacherously captured by the Spanish conquistadors. Having received the largest ransom in the history of mankind, the Spaniards, contrary to their promises, executed the supreme ruler of the Incas.
Yet the Spanish ransom was only a small fraction of the treasure. According to Inca Manco, who led the people's struggle against foreigners, this ransom can be compared to one mango seed, and what the Indians hid - with a whole bag of such kernels. Where is this wealth hidden? It is possible that some of them are buried in the place above which Salasu and I happened to see a huge mass of mysteriously glowing air.
In the very city of Cuzco (the former capital of the Incas) there is a dungeon, the entrance to which was blocked by a thick iron lattice several decades ago. And before that, treasure seekers had repeatedly gone on a journey through the dungeon. They went … and did not return. True, one of these daredevils returned after a long absence. He brought with him a golden ear of corn. And there was no blood in his face. And no wonder: the strange wound on his left hand clarified everything. The unfortunate one, in order not to die of thirst and hunger, drank his own blood and thereby undermined his vitality. Coming out into the fresh air, he took a few deep breaths and fell down dead.
Somewhere in large quantities is hidden the gold of the Kingdom of Kitu, which was part of Tahuantineuyo, "the four connected sides of the world", as the Inca empire was called. In any case, on the outskirts of the Ecuadorian city of Otavalo, an ancient beaten track begins. It is called the kurinyan (path of gold). The road leads to the mountains, and there it branches into many paths, sometimes scattering in different directions, sometimes intertwining with each other.
Paititi's Gold
But the most real location of most of the Inca treasures is the city of Paititi, lost in the jungle (jungle) of Southeast Peru. I know of at least four cases when people unexpectedly fell into this dead city or in its vicinity, became the owners of gold things and were able to avoid the fate of the target of the poisoned arrows of the Machigenga Indians. The tribe guards the city in accordance with how the Incas ordered it more than four and a half centuries ago.
***
What does Paititi look like today, based on the stories of people who have visited it (but have never returned to it)?
Paititi lies in a deep mountain gorge, overgrown with lush tropical vegetation, but still unable to completely overcome the stone walls of buildings. The city can be entered from two sides. On the one hand, here and there, the remains of a paved road are still visible, however, badly destroyed at first by the Incas themselves, and then by bushes, vines and trees, tearing from the ground with irresistible force. Making your way through such a green wall, you risk tearing to shreds not only clothes, but also your own skin.
At the other end of the gorge, a staircase with steps carved into the rock has been preserved. They can also be used to enter or exit the city. At the top, steps adjoin a massive gate made of stone blocks. On the pediment of the gate, there is a gold disc, several meters in diameter, depicting the Sun with human features and rays radiating in all directions.
There is apparently only one street in the city, in the center is a square. On and around it stand about 12 life-size golden human figures, depicting the Only Incas (emperors) who ruled in Tahuantinsuyo (Inca Empire). The street passes between stone buildings, in the premises of which, as well as next to them, items made of precious metals (mainly gold) are stacked in some disorder, or even just piled up: corn cobs, necklaces, bracelets, vessels.
In a word, as the Peruvian ethnographer Ruben Iwaki Ordonyas states, "Paititi is a city that keeps such treasures between its cold stone walls that a person cannot even imagine."
But Paititi's significance is not only that he is a treasure keeper. His discovery would make it possible to find an answer to many mysteries of the history of ancient Abya Yala (America), and possibly other continents (for example, Atlantis). The discovery of Paititi would be comparable to the discovery of Troy.
Enchanted city of sorrow and hope
So, as can be seen from the first part of my story, in 1971, fate first brought me almost close to the treasures of the Incas (if you believe the folk omens), and then sent some kind of indifference to them, laziness, apathy and unforgivable forgetfulness. Not so definitely, and maybe even with a malicious grin, she reminded of them later in Ecuador, when the Indians showed me the beginning of the "path of gold." And again, after a flash of keen interest, indifference and apathy seized me.
But in 1974, quite unexpectedly for myself, I became the owner of interesting, convincing and, perhaps, in many respects unique information about the city of Paititi. Such information could not leave me indifferent. The expedition project was drawn up, supported by the leaders of two academic institutions: the director of the Institute of Latin America, Professor V. V. Volsky, and the director of the Institute of Archeology, academician B. A. Rybakov, and also by the vice-president of the USSR Academy of Sciences, academician Yu. A. Ovchinnikov. Alas! Bureaucratic arbitrariness turned out to be stronger than the scientific arguments of my project and the scientific (and even administrative) authority of the leaders who supported me. The indifference of high-ranking officials forced me, in the end, to abandon plans to search for the enchanted city. A city that is fraught with untold riches that have not yet been found.
Author: Yuri Zubritsky