In a dry, sunburned valley along Peru’s southern coast, archaeologists have unearthed the remains of 24 people—men, women, and children—whose bones bear the unmistakable signs of war. However, their final resting place was a carefully arranged tomb, where each body was wrapped in cloth and laid to rest with offerings.

This mass grave, recently uncovered in the Atico River Valley by a Polish-led expedition, is forcing researchers to reconsider the story of a little-known South American civilization called the Chuquibamba—or Aruni.

Buried as Heroes

The burial site lies within the El Curaca archaeological zone, a stone’s throw from the Pacific Ocean. It is here that Professor Józef Szykulski and his team from the University of Wrocław began excavations in October 2024. What they found stunned even seasoned researchers.

Inside a large, circular stone tomb were the skeletons of 24 individuals, carefully bundled in woven textiles. Scattered among them were grave goods: corn cobs, ceramic shards, bone tools, and fragments of carved wood. Most haunting of all, though, were the marks on the bones.

“All of the people died due to injuries consistent with battle wounds,” the team wrote in a translated statement posted on Facebook.

The presence of such rich burial offerings—especially in a collective tomb—suggests these were not just casualties, but honored dead. Szykulski believes they died in a battle that their people won.

A Culture Nearly Lost to Time

The Chuquibamba culture thrived between 1000 and 1450 C.E., straddling the rise of the better-known Inca Empire. Yet while the Inca left behind cities and chronicles, the Chuquibamba remained rather obscure.

Archaeologists had previously enigmatic petroglyphs etched into caves across the region, but details about the people who made them remained scarce. The El Curaca find is changing that.

Many of the ceramics mirror styles found in Peru’s Tambo and Quilca valleys, and in the Majes River basin, which are thought to be the Chuquibamba cultural heartland. They are typically dark red, painted with black lines and stylized figures—birds, camelids, eight-pointed stars.

Then there are the textiles.

Described by scholars as “intensely patterned,” Chuquibamba fabrics were woven with camelid fibers, likely from alpacas. Some featured interwoven motifs and layered colors. One bag, likely used to hold coca leaves, carried such intricate designs that it was once mistaken for an Inca artifact.

Researchers are now using 3D scanning to preserve the delicate skulls and document trauma patterns. Conservationists are also stabilizing the ancient textiles, hoping to glean more about how the Chuquibamba saw—and dressed—their world.

Who Were the Chuquibamba?

For now, much of their history remains cloaked in mystery. The Inca, who came later, may have overshadowed them in the highlands, but in places like El Curaca, the Chuquibamba ruled for centuries. However, the mass grave raises tantalizing questions. Who were the attackers? Was this part of a larger conflict? And how did these people view death?

The researchers, still on site until the end of April, hope to find more answers as they continue their work.

In the meantime, the grave at El Curaca serves as a powerful reminder. Civilizations do not need to be vast or famous to be profound. Sometimes, it is in their absences—and in the care they took for their dead—that their stories speak loudest.

The research project is still ongoing.