Heavily laden and unused as we were to the burdens of professional pack-horses, we found the climbing both trying and monotonous. The long, dismal expanse which formed the spur up which our course lay was devoid of all vegetation. Our feet sank deeply into the shifting scoria, which, fractured into small pieces, covered the sides of the mountain for miles around in a dark-grey deposit, which looked intensely dreary as the sun sank to rest and a cold, cutting wind swept down from the snow-crowned glaciers above us. At 5800 feet enormous stones lay strewn about the ground, and we crossed the lower part of a deep lava ravine which wound high up into the side of the great peak above, and ended in a precipitous bluff, where we saw what at first sight appeared to be enormous caves, with a frozen waterfall sticking out of them. It occurred to us that if they were really rocky caves, as they seemed to be, we might find shelter in them for the night from the freezing blast, so we toiled onward with our heavy burdens to an altitude of 6200 feet, when the caves turned out to be nothing more than two enormous holes in the rocky side of the mountain, and to reach which it would have required the skill of a well-trained monkey, as they had been placed by the fickle hand of nature high up at the end of a tremendous ravine, which fell with a sheer descent of hundreds of feet beneath the precipice on which we stood, and whose steep, rugged sides, built of horizontal layers of lava rock, appeared to have been twisted and distorted by some terrific volcanic convulsion.