of Pichincha. "Our first scheme," says Ulloa, "for shelter and lodging in these uncomfortable regions, was to pitch a field-tent for each company; but on Pichincha this could not be done, from the narrowness of the summit, and we were obliged to be contented with a hut, so small that we could hardly all creep into it. Nor will this appear strange if the reader considers the bad disposition and smallness of the place, it being one of the loftiest crags of a rocky mountain, one hundred toises above the highest part of the desert of Pichincha. Such was the situation of our mansion, which, like all the other adjacent parts, soon became covered with ice and snow. The ascent up this stupendous rock, from the base, or the place where the mules could come to our habitation, was so craggy as only to be climbed on foot, and to perform it cost us four hours' continual labour and pain, from the violent efforts of the body, and the subtilty of the air—the latter being such as to render respiration difficult. It was my misfortune, when I climbed something above half-way, to be so overcome that I fell down, and remained a long time without sense or motion, and, I was told, with all the appearances of death in my face. Nor was I able to proceed after coming to myself, but was obliged to return to the foot of the rock, where our servants and instruments remained. The next day I renewed the attempt of climbing the rock, though probably I should have had no better success than before, had not some Indians assisted me in the most steep and difficult places."
The picture which Ulloa has given of their extraordinary manner of living would lose so much of its interest by being transferred into any other language than his own, that I cannot resist the temptation to continue the narrative in his words: "We generally kept within one hut," says he; "indeed, we were obliged to do this, both on account of the intenseness of the cold, the violence of the wind, and our being
