them, till at 7.30 we reached the line of permanent snow. Here the Indians insisted on our taking off our boots and substituting leather sandals on the top of multitudinous folds of flannel bandages. This is a totally unnecessary proceeding: a good honest pair of Alpine boots is far and away the best foot-gear for the kind of climbing, or rather trudging, that lay in store for us. And it was a trudge for three hours we toiled upwards, sinking deeply, now in the freshly fallen snow, now in the even softer lava shale which covers that part of the mountain whenever snow is absent. It was a toilsome grind, nor had we the consolation of a glorious view to compensate us for our labours. The wind was still blowing a gale, and thick clouds drifted around, above, and below us. Shortly before we reached the crater's edge the weather cleared slightly, and we caught a glimpse of the summit of the White Lady, apparently about on a level with us. So we thought we were only about 16,000 feet up, and felt desperate: how cheered we should have been had we then known that her true height was nearly 17,000 feet! Shortly before eleven we reached the lowest point of the crater, and, thoroughly pumped, flung ourselves at full length and endeavoured to peer down into its mysterious recesses. Alas! our enemy the cloud was before us, and all we could see was a seething cauldron of misty vapour. The ropes and chains by which the Indians

make their descent into the crater in search of sulphur looked weird enough, lost as they were, only a few yards below us, in the white chaos. Around us the wind blew the newly fallen snow in little whirlwinds of penetrating icy particles: it was a world of white. And now I suggested luncheon, and was horrified when the Indians told us that if we ate at that altitude we should assuredly be sick. I rejoined that unless I had something to eat I should probably faint, and preferred to take the risk. On the whole, we made a good meal, and felt a great deal the better for it, but it was amusing to see the faces of the Indians when I announced my intention of proceeding to the highest point of the crater, of which we caught occasional glimpses through the cloud rifts. It was, of course, almost diametrically opposite to us, and as the crater is about 1000 yards across, there was a good deal of ground to cover. ridge looked easy enough, and I paid little attention to the Indian who had constituted himself my special companion, when he assured me it was most dangerous, and in such a wind impossible. I started, and he followed, protesting; worse than that, he assured me that each minor summit that I reached was the true one, and once I should have turned back under the impression that I had really gained the highest point, had not the mist at that moment cleared and shown me the true summit

The

a few yards farther on. At 12.15 I reached it, 17,513 feet, in a more than usually objectionable tourmente of snow, which hastened our return, and rather before 1 P.M. we rejoined the others.

The downward journey was absurdly easy as compared with the ascent, and what had taken us nearly five hours of toilsome climbing was covered in 1 hours in the reverse direction. We took a good rest at the hut, and, after a square meal, left for Amecameca, which we reached, riding quietly, just about sunset.

My Indian caused some amusement by demanding 20 dollars extra for having led (?) me to the summit, instead of to the crater's edge. I refused to give him more than five for his extra exertions, and he took a ghastly revenge. As soon as it was rumoured that we intended to make an attack on Ixtaccihuatl, 16,960 ft., all the Indians became intensely interested, and he among them. He assured us that he had been several times to the summit, that he and another man had discovered a quite easy way, and that ropes and ice - axe, which I suggested, were altogether unnecessary. Fool that I was, I believed him. A few days later, therefore, we made a start for the White Lady, and slept the night in a cave at an altitude of about 13,500 ft. It was very cold and very breezy, and in spite of a good fire and blankets we spent a shivering, miserable night, and were only too glad to get off next morn

ing at 5 A.M. After an hour and a half's climbing we reached the snout of the glacier, about 15,000 ft. above sea-level, and here my hero of Popocatepetl appeared in his true colours, and completed his revenge. He acknowledged that he had never been farther than this point, vowed that no one ever had (which I knew to be a lie), that the mountain was inaccessible (I had just before been reading the account of Mr Whitehouse's successful ascent), and dwelt with exasperating pertinacity on the many and varied deaths the caravan could experience if we ventured to ascend higher. Disregarding his tale of woe, we advanced up the left lateral moraine of the glacier and the snow slopes above it till we reached a height of 16,000 ft., or about 1000 ft. below the summit, where we found ourselves blocked by a steep ice slope from 50 to 100 ft. across, which effectually barred farther progress to any one unaided by an ice - axe. Reluctantly we had to return, and though when I got back to Mexico City I had two iceaxes made, and had two further shots at the White Lady, once on the Amecameca and once on the Puebla side, on both occasions bad weather made any serious attempt impossible. It was a bitter disappointment.

In an interval between my failures I made the acquaintance of a younger brother of the famous giant trio. The Nevado de Toluca, 14,954 ft., the fourth in height of the

Dr S. and myself with an agreeable day of scrambling, and, incidentally, nearly incapacitated me from any further climbing. We left Toluca at 4.30 A.M. on September 6 for Calinaya, a little village at the foot of the mountain, where we procured horses and rode up to the tree limit, and then walked along an easy, well-marked track to the edge of the crater. This is filled with water, divided by a lava ridge into two unequal sombre lakes, which are, according to local tradition, unfathomable. In one of them, according to the guidebook, may be seen a whirlpool, but this was not en évidence while we were there, and I expect it is fabulous. We followed the crater's edge from its lowest point towards the summit, till our way was blocked by some high rock towers: these we skirted on the inside of the crater, and it was here that I nearly had a nasty accident. The climbing was decidedly unpleasant, for the slope was very steep and the rocks large and abominably loose. One of them, on being just touched by my hand, came away, rolled over on to my right leg and imprisoned my foot, and only by the aid of the Indian who was with me could I free myself. Dr S. had meanwhile retired to the lake's edge, where he was busy taking photographs. Fortunately I escaped with nothing worse than a bruised ankle and the loss of much skin off my shinbone, but had the rock been a little heavier I could hardly have missed a broken

we

And now I was in the position of having lost one hat, and seemed in a fair way to lose two. The regular autumn rains had started around Mexico City, and every day more snow was falling on the two volcanoes. In such weather Ixtaccihuatl was out of the question. Could I win my other bet by ascending Orizaba, 18,215 ft.? It seemed doubtful, but I determined to have a try at any rate.

On September 26, with my friend R., I left Puebla, where I had just failed in my third attempt on the White Lady, and, armed with a letter to Señor Couttolenc, on whose property Mount Orizaba stands, proceeded by the Mexican railway to San Andres. From the station a little tram took us to Chalchicomula, the tiny village nestling under the shadow of the great mountain, where Señor Couttolenc resides. Nothing could exceed the kindness and hospitality which he extended to us - two total strangers. He begged us to leave everything in his hands,

only equalled by the later view when the sun had set, and the peak towered over us, a silvery ghost, with outlines clearly cut against a black sky studded with twinkling stars. One thing was practically certain, we should have a fine morning for our climb, and it would be our own fault if we did not reach our goal successfully. We spent so comfortable a night in our cave, on soft hay, wrapped in a goodly supply of blankets, that we were quite loath to leave next morning. In fact, we did not get away till daybreak, and it was 6.45 when we reached the snowline. We were now on the west ridge of the mountain, just east of the fantastic, rocky pinnacles, which I have previously mentioned as being such a marked feature of the peak as seen from Fortin. We followed this ridge till it merged into the west face of the mountain, and then toiled slowly upwards. The sun was scorching, the snow none too hard, the view so magnificent that it was manifestly the height of folly not to admire it at frequent intervals. On one hand, looking absurdly close, were the waters of the Gulf of Mexico: the steadily rising ground which lies between the coast and the wall of the central plateau seemed a mere streak, and yet it had taken many hours of railway travelling to cover it. On the other hand stretched the great central plateau itself, backed by the high range which we had crossed on our journey to Toluca, with the two great

volcanoes standing out clear against the deep - blue sky, dwarfing all minor summits. At 10.15 the crater edge was reached, where again I found myself quite equal to a hearty luncheon. R., alas! was feeling the effects of the rarefied air, and could eat nothing, but after an hour's rest felt able to essay the final struggle to the summit. From our previous experiences we quite expected a weary climb half round the crater before reaching our goal. Judge of our joy then, when, after ten minutes' gentle progress, we suddenly saw the summit only about 100 yards away, separated from us by a gentle slope. I started off running towards it, but after going about 30 yards had to pull up suddenly in an absolutely breathless condition. Above 18,000 feet one can play no pranks with one's breathing-apparatus. We solemnly marched to the top, R. feeling very much the reverse of jubilant, but determined not to be beaten. On the highest rock the Indians have erected a large wooden cross, which on our arrival we found broken, the upper part lying on the sloping inner edge of the crater about 20 feet below the summit. We rescued it and bound it with ropes to the part which was still standing, and then, after depositing our names in a bottle at its foot, prepared for the descent. It was time we did, for the weather had taken a sudden change for the worse. Thick clouds were rushing up the mountain on every side; all