The fear of punishment, however, was insufficient to reconcile the Indians to the rigours of a mountain life, and it was found necessary to have recourse to milder regulations. On this wild rock they continued twenty-three days, without being able to complete their observations; for when one of the points on which the signals which formed the triangles for measuring the degrees of the meridian enjoyed fine weather, the others were generally hid in clouds. But at length, in the month of December, the observations on Pichincha were completed, and they proceeded to other points, where the same fatigues and privations were encountered. Only the hut was now exchanged for a field-tent, which, although in some respects more troublesome, was less inconvenient than their Pichincha hut. Nevertheless, as the tents were necessarily placed in exposed situations to serve as signals, they were frequently overthrown by the violence of the wind, which rose in those wild paramos to a pitch altogether indescribable. Such was their manner of life from the beginning of August, 1737, to the end of July, 1739, during which space of time one of the parties occupied thirty-five deserts, and the other thirty-two. But by degrees their bodies became inured to the hardships which they endured. Habit began to reconcile them to the fearful scenery in which they existed, and every little unaccustomed comfort which accident threw in their way was magnified by their imaginations into splendid luxuries. “The diminutive cabins of the Indians,” observes Ulloa, “and the small cattle-stalls, scattered at intervals on the skirts of the mountains, where we used to lodge in our passage from one desert to another, were to us spacious palaces; mean villages appeared like magnificent cities; and the conversation of a priest and two or three of his companions charmed us like the banquet of Xenophon.”