sleep the night before drove us
to bed early. Our beds consisted of a place on the dirt-floor with a
blanket under us. Soon all were asleep; but long before morning first
one and then another of our party began to cry out with excruciating
pain in the eyes. Not one escaped it. By morning the eyes of half the
party were so swollen that they were entirely closed. The others
suffered pain equally. The feeling was about what might be expected
from the prick of a sharp needle at a white heat. We remained in
quarters until the afternoon bathing our eyes in cold water. This
relieved us very much, and before night the pain had entirely left. The
swelling, however, continued, and about half the party still had their
eyes entirely closed; but we concluded to make a start back, those who
could see a little leading the horses of those who could not see at all.
We moved back to the village of Ameca Ameca, some six miles, and stopped
again for the night. The next morning all were entirely well and free
from pain. The weather was clear and Popocatapetl stood out in all its
beauty, the top looking as if not a mile away, and inviting us to
return. About half the party were anxious to try the ascent again, and
concluded to do so. The remainder--I was with the remainder--concluded
that we had got all the pleasure there was to be had out of mountain
climbing, and that we would visit the great caves of Mexico, some ninety
miles from where we then were, on the road to Acapulco.

The party that ascended the mountain the second time succeeded in
reaching the crater at the top, with but little of the labor they
encountered in their first attempt. Three of them--Anderson, Stone and
Buckner--wrote accounts of their journey, which were published at the
time. I made no notes of this excursion, and have read nothing about it
since, but it seems to me that I can see the whole of it as vividly as
if it were but yesterday. I have been back at Ameca Ameca, and the
village beyond, twice in the last five years. The scene had not changed
materially from my recollection of it.

The party which I was with moved south down the valley to the town of
Cuantla, some forty miles from Ameca Ameca. The latter stands on the
plain at the foot of Popocatapetl, at an elevation of about eight
thousand feet above tide water. The slope down is gradual as the
traveller moves south, but one would not judge that, in going to
Cuantla, descent enough had been