of Washington, with thermometers especially made for us by Green;
a large mercurial barometer, borrowed from the Harvard Observatory,
which, notwithstanding its rough treatment by Mr. Hinckley's mule, was
still doing good service; and one of Green's sling psychrometers. Our
most serious want was an aneroid, in case the fragile mercurials
should get broken. Six months previously I had written to J. Hicks,
the celebrated instrument maker of London, asking him to construct,
with special care, two large "Watkins" aneroids capable of recording
altitudes five thousand feet higher than Coropuna was supposed to
be. His reply had never reached me, nor did any one in Arequipa know
anything about the barometers. Apparently my letter had miscarried. It
was not until we opened our specially ordered "mountain grub" boxes
here in Chuquibamba that we found, alongside of the pemmican and
self-heating tins of stew which had been packed for us in London by
Grace Brothers, the two precious aneroids, each as large as a big alarm
clock. With these two new aneroids, made with a wide margin of safety,
we felt satisfied that, once at the summit, we should know whether
there was a chance that Bandelier was right and this was indeed the
top of America.

For exact measurements we depended on Topographer Hendriksen, who was
due to triangulate Coropuna in the course of his survey along the 73d
meridian. My chief excuse for going up the mountain was to erect a
signal at or near the top which Hendriksen could use as a station in
order to make his triangulation more exact. My real object, it must
be confessed, was to enjoy the satisfaction, which all Alpinists feel,
of conquering a "virgin peak."