médano.





About five o'clock our mules, a fine-looking lot--far superior to any
that we had been able to secure near Cuzco--trotted briskly into the
dusty little plaza. It took some time to adjust the loads, and it was
nearly seven o'clock before we started off in the moonlight for the
oasis of Vitor. As we left the plateau and struck the dusty trail
winding down into a dark canyon we caught a glimpse of something
white shimmering faintly on the horizon far off to the northwest;
Coropuna! Shortly before nine o'clock we reached a little corral,
where the mules were unloaded. For ourselves we found a shed with
a clean, stone-paved floor, where we set up our cots, only to be
awakened many times during the night by passing caravans anxious to
avoid the terrible heat of the desert by day.


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FIGURE

Mt. Coropuna from the Northwest
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Where the oases are only a few miles apart one often travels by day,
but when crossing the desert is a matter of eight or ten hours'
steady jogging with no places to rest, no water, no shade, the pack