ver six feet high, buried in the
ground. We had a glimpse of seventeen of them standing in a line,
awaiting sale. It made one think of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves,
who would have had no trouble at all hiding in these Cyclopean crocks.

The edge of the oasis of Vitor is the contour line along which
the irrigating canal runs. There is no gradual petering out of
foliage. The desert begins with a stunning crash. On one side is
the bright, luxurious green of fig trees and vineyards; on the other
side is the absolute stark nakedness of the sandy desert. Within the
oasis there is an abundance of water. Much of it runs to waste. The
wine growers receive more than they can use; in fact, more land
could easily be put under cultivation. The chief difficulties are
the scarcity of ports from which produce can be shipped to the outer
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 r