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I figured that, after Van Buren had received my message from Juliaca the troops could not possibly arrive at Sumbay bridge before eight o'clock that night. It was four o'clock when we reached Vincocaya and the passenger would be leaving Sumbay station. Pucacancha was another station between Sumbay and Vincocaya.
As the Arequipena was to go ahead, I would endeavor to get the officers out to eat at Vincocaya. I would give a signal for him to uncouple his engine and follow at full speed. It would be impossible to stop him and they would be at the mercy of the government troops, which would leave that afternoon, according to the instructions given the Prefecto of Puno from Arequipa.
The insurgents had got their engine back on the track after much time and labor, but it was damaged and as they were out of water, they gave up hope of winning their cause. The train bearing the government troops stopped when within a few miles of Vincocaya, where they picked up the body of Don Rodrigo Garcia and buried it near the track.
I learned it was the intention of the insurgents to proceed to Vincocaya in the morning, destroy as they went along, the telegraph offices, wait at Vincocaya until the arrival of the regular passenger train from Arequipa and then proceed to Sumbay bridge. They evidently had calculated with a great deal of precision, and if their plans carried, victory would certainly be theirs.
After the office had been destroyed we started again, the troop train always close behind us. We stopped at Cabanillas, Maravillas and Santa Lucia and carried away their telegraph instruments; then we ran direct to Vincocaya. Arriving there the telegraph office suffered like the others.
I arose from the balcony and went inside. They had to pass under the balcony of the British consulate to reach the wharf. I did not care to witness their misery and so remained indoors until their departure. The revolution over, there was nothing now to fear; Manuel packed my belongings and we returned to Arequipa. The general manager requested me to take care of the shops of Vincocaya.
Vincocaya is situated high in the Andes, above timber line, a desolate and dreary waste of rock and crag, where wild winds scream among the cliffs in the blackness of the night, as though a thousand imprisoned Joshuas were reaching upward for that sun which will stand still no more over the plains of Ajalon.
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