rush back and commence a
violent and acrimonious dispute as to whether the letter of the
contract had been fulfilled and the mules had gone "as far as they
could reasonably be expected to go." The truth was, the Tejadas
were terrified at approaching mysterious Coropuna. They were sure
it would take revenge on them by destroying their mules, who would
"certainly die the following day of soroche." We offered a bonus of
thirty soles--fifteen dollars--if they would go on for another hour,
and threatened them with all sorts of things if they would not. At
last they readjusted the loads and started climbing again.

The altitude was now about 16,000 feet, but at the foot of a steep
little rise the arrieros stopped again. This time they succeeded in
unloading two mules before we could scramble down over the sand and
boulders to stop them. Threats and prayers were now of no avail. The
only thing that would satisfy was a legal document! They demanded
an agreement "in writing" that in case any mule or mules died as
a result of this foolish attempt to get up to the snow line, I
should pay in gold two hundred soles for each and every mule that
died. Further, I must agree to pay a bonus of fifty soles if they
would keep climbing until noon or until stopped by snow. This document,
having been duly drawn up by Professor Coello, seated on a lava rock
amidst the clinker-like cinders of the old volcano, was duly signed
and sealed. In order that there might be no dispute as to the time,
my best chronometer was handed over to Pablo Tejada to carry until
noon. The mules were reloaded and again the ascent began. Presently the
mules encountered some pretty bad going, on a steep slope covered with
huge lava boulders and scoriaceous sand. We expected more trouble every
minute. However, the arrieros, having made an advantageous bargain,
did their best to carry it out. Fortunately the mules reached the
snow line just fifteen minutes before twelve o'clock. The Tejadas
lost no time in unloading, claimed their bonus, promised to return
in ten days, and almost before we knew it had disappeared down the
side of the mountain.

We spent the afternoon establishing our Base Camp. We had three tents,
the "Mummery," a very light and diminutive wall tent about four feet
high, made by Edgington of London; an ordinary wall tent, 7 by 7, of
fairly heavy material, with floor sewed in; and an improved pyramidal
tent, made by David Abercrombie, but designed by M