world, the expense of the transportation system of pack trains over
the deserts which intervene between the oases and the railroad,
and the lack of capital. Otherwise the irrigation system might be
extended over great stretches of rich, volcanic soil, now unoccupied.

A steady climb of three quarters of an hour took us to the northern rim
of the valley. Here we again saw the snowy mass of Coropuna, glistening
in the sunlight, seventy-five miles away to the northwest. Our view was
a short one, for in less than three minutes we had to descend another
canyon. We crossed this and climbed out on the pampa of Sihuas. There
was little to interest us in our immediate surroundings, but in the
distance was Coropuna, and I had just begun to study the problem of
possible routes for climbing the highest peak when Mr. Hinckley's
mule trotted briskly across the trail directly in front of me, kicked
up her heels, and again sent him sprawling over the sand, barometer,
camera, plates, and all. Unluckily, this time his foot caught in a
stirrup and, still holding the bridle, he was dragged some distance
before he got it loose. He struggled to his feet and tried to keep
the mule from running away, when a violent kick released his hold
and knocked him out. We immediately set up our little "Mummery"
tent on the hot, sandy floor of the desert and rendered first-aid to
the unlucky astronomer. We found that the sharp point of one of the
vicious mule's new shoes had opened a large vein in Mr. Hinckley's
leg. The cut was not dangerous, but too deep for successful mountain
climbing. With Gamarra's aid, Mr. Hinckley was able to reach Arequipa
that night, but his enforced departure not only shattered his own hopes
of climbing Coropuna, but also made us wonder how we were going to have
the necessary three-men-on-the-rope when we reached the glaciers. To
be sure, there was the corporal--but would he go? Indians do not like
snow mountains. Packing up the tent again, we resumed our course over