Having once disentangled ourselves from this tumbled-down forest, a weird scene was opened out before us. Almost surrounded by a lofty ridge of rocks was a wide river basin fed by the melting snow from above. With the exception of one waterfall which poured down from a height of about 200 feet, the water did not descend in streams, but fell slowly in sheets from the surrounding rocks. The few trees visible were entirely enveloped in the white lichen, and the ground was covered with thick drab moss, dwarf cactus plants, and a tall green poker called by botanists lobelia, but resembling in shape Cleopatra’s needle. The effect was that of a world tottering in its old age on the verge of death—it was easier to imagine it another planet, for is it possible to recognise Earth without voice, without colouring, and almost without life. We plunged through this morass and found the moss saturated like a sponge with freezing water. The effect was chilling in the extreme, and before we had crossed it half way my limbs felt quite numbed with the cold; I scarcely knew how I dragged myself up into our last camp. The roof only of our tent was somehow fixed up under a rock, over the entrance of which water continuously trickled. But these little discomforts were quite forgotten when towards sunset the clouds rolled away and the land of snow and ice was revealed crowning near ridges and peaks with its dazzling whiteness, while in the hollows and clefts all round lay patches of glistening ice. Before sunrise next morning we were all astir, impatient to reach the goal of our expectations. The air was clear and crisp, patches of freshly fallen snow lay around us on all sides, icicles hung from the rocks, and little frozen puddles glistened like glass. The wet penetrating cold of the two previous days was now exchanged for the dry frosty breezes that nipped toes, finger-tips, nose, and ears. Although the thermometer had fallen to freezing point, no numbing sensation was experienced; but as the blood tingled through the veins it seemed to impart a feeling of rejuvenation, and an uncontrollable exhilaration laid hold of the spirits. In the valley of the Muluku glacier vegetation had once more assumed its healthy green colouring; a little silver-leafed buttercup even ventured to peep out at us, and a tiny white flower, almost identical with the Swiss edelweiss, concealed itself among the rocks. This beautiful little fertile spot seemed a special pet of the snow mountains, for they clasped it in their great white arms as if desiring that its only life should impart some degree of warmth to their implacable nature.