Evening Star Newspaper, July 8, 1923, Page 67

q . vears, 1 did not remember ever to have heard of Coropuna. On most maps it did not exist. Fortunately, on one of the sheets of Ralmondi's large-scale map of Peru, I finally found “Coropuna — 6,949 m."” —nine meters higher than Aconcagua! * ok % ox I OOKING up and down the seventy- 4 third meridian on the map, which ran close to Coropuna, as it crossed Peru from the Amazon valley to the Tacific ocean, T saw that it passed very near Choqquequirau, and actu- | ly traversed those very lands “be- d the ranges” which had been beckoning to me. The coincidence was intriguing. The desire to go and find that “something hidden” was now re-enforced by the temptation to %o and see whether Coropuna really was the highest mountain in America. There followed the organization of an expedition whose objective was a | Feographical reconnaisance of Peru along the 73d meridian, from the head of canoe navigation on the Urubamba to tidewater on the Pacific. We achieved more in some directions than | we expected. | The prefect of Arequipa obligingly | offered us a military escort in the rerson of Corp. Gamarra, a full- Wiooded Indian of rather more than average helght and considerably more than average courage, who knew the country. However, had he suspected the trials that were before him on Mount Coropuna, he probably would have begged offt—but I am anticipat- ing. The desert plateau above Chuqui- bamba is nearly 2,500 feet higher than the town, and it was 9 o'clock In the morning of the ninth day after our start before we got out of the valley. Thereafter Coropuna was always in sight, and as we slowly approached it we studied it with care. Coropuna is really -a range about ‘twenty miles long. Its gigantic massif was cov- | ered with snow flelds from one end to the other. Between us and the first snow-cov- ered slopes, however, lay more than twenty miles of volcanic desert inter- sected by deep canyons. The altitude of the rim of the canyons was 16,000 feet; the mules showed signs of acute distress from mountain sickness. No bearers or carriers were to be obtained at some Indian huts on the slope of the mountain as we had hoped, and it was essentlal to per- suade the muleteers to take thelr pack animals up as far as the snow, n feat they declined to do. However, after a long argument, they agreed o go as far as there was a good ath, and no farther. We could easily walk faster than the loaded mules, and thought it best to avold trouble by keeping far ~nough ahead so as not to hear the nrrieros’ (muleteers') constant com- plaints. After an hour of not very “pard climbing, they not only stopped | socks and two or three pairs of heavy | cache of food and fuel as far up the | mountain side as he and Coello could | carry fifty pounds in a single day's {climb. * * ¢ This they did while I | remained at camp, taking a series of | observations. H * k k¥ | HE following morning, after ad- | | justing our fifty-pound loads to | our unaccustomed backs, we left| camp about 9 o'clock. We wore Ap- palachain Mountain Club snow creep- ers, or crampons, heavy Scotch | mittens, knit woolen helmets, dark blue snow glasses, and very heavy | clothing. It will be remembered by visitors to the Zermatt Museum that |the Swiss guides who once climbed Huascaran, in the northern Peruvian Andes, had been maimed for life by their experlences in the deep snows of those great altitudes. We deter- mined to take no chances, and in order to prevent the possibility of frost bite each man was ordered to put on four pairs of heavy woolen underdrawers. The snow was very hard until about 1 o'clock. By 3 o'clock it was so soft as to make further progress impos- sible. We found that, loaded as we were, we could not climb a gentle rise faster than twenty steps at a time. On the more level snow flelds we took twenty-five or thirty steps before stopping to rest. At the end of each stint it seemed as though they would be the last steps we should ever take. Panting violently, fatigued beyond bellef, ‘and overcome with mountaln sickness, we would stop and lean on our ice axes until able to take twenty- fivesteps more. It did not take very long to recover one’s wind. Finally we reached a glacier marked by a network of crevasse, none very wide, and nearly all covered with snow bridges. We were roped together, and although there was an occasional fall no great strain was put on the rope. We pegged along until about half-past 2, when the rapldly melting snow stopped all progress. At an altitude of about 18,450 feet, the Tucker tent was pitched on a fairly level snow field. As the sun declined the tem- perature fell rapidly. Mountain, climbers at high altitudes have occasionally observed that one of the symptoms of acute saroche is a very annoying racking cough, as violent as whooping cough and fre- quently accompanied by nausea. We had not experienced this at 17,000 feet, but now it began to be painfully no- ticeable, and continued during the en- suing days and nights, particularly rights. We slept very poorly ‘and continually awakened one another by coughing. The next morning we had very little appetite, no ambition, and a misera- ble sense of malaise and great f tigue. There was nothing for it but to shoulder our packs, arrange our tump-lines,. and procesd 1& the same, A | solid, T don't know where it went on the | actual climb. So far as I could de- | termine, it did not go below 120 for | four days and nights. | On the morning of October 15 we got up at 3 o'clock. Hot sweet tea | was the one thing we all craved. The teapot was found to be frozen although it had hung up in | the tent. Tt took an hour to thaw and the tea was just warm enough for practical purposes when 1 made an awkward move in the crowded | tent and kicked over the teapot! | Never did men keep their tempers | better under more aggravating cir- | cumstances. Not a word of reproach | or indignation greeted my clumsy ac- cident, although poor Corp. Gamarra, who was Iying on the down slde of the tent, had to beat a hasty retreat into the colder (but somewhat drier) weather outside. My clumsiness necessitated a delay of nearly an hour in starting. While we were melting more frozen snow and remaking the tea, we warmed up Ssome Dea soup and Irish stew. Tucker and I man- aged to eat a little. Coello and Gam- arra had no stomachs for anything but tea. We declded to leave the Tucker tent at the 20,000-foot level, together with most of our outfit and provisions. From here to, the top we were to carry ogdy such things as were absolutely necessary. We left camp at 5 o'clock,, It was still dark. The great dome of Coro- puna loomed up on our left, cut off from direct attack by gigantic ice falls. mount the saddle on the main ridge. From there an apparently unbroken slope extended to the top. Our pros- ress was distressingly slow, even with the light*loads. ‘When we reached the saddle there came a painful surprise. To the north of us loomed a great Snowy cone, the peak of which we had at first noticed from Chuquibamba Cal- vario. Now it actually looked higher than the dome we were, about to climb! From the Sihuas Desert, elghty miles away, the dome had cer- tainly seemed to be the highest point. So we stuck to our task, al- though constantly facing the possi- bility that our painful labors might be in vain and that eventually, this north peak would prove to be highe The last slope had an inclination of 30 degrees. We were not a gay party. 'The high altitude was sapping all our ambition. I found that an occasional lump of sugar acted as the best rapid restorative to sagging spirits. It was astonishing how quickly the carbon in the sugar was absorbed by the system and came to the relief of the smouldering bodily fires. A single cube gave new strength and vigor for. several minutes, To reach it we must first sur- TE zigzagged slowly up, hour after hour, alternately resting and climbing, until we were about to reach what seemed to be the top, ob- viously, alas, not as high as our en- emy to the north. Just then Tucker gave a great shout. The rest of us were too much out of breath to ask | him why he was wasting his strength shouting. When at last we painfully came to the edge of what looked fike the summit we saw the cause of his joy. There, ‘immediately ahead of us, Jay another slope three hundred feet higher than where we were standing. Tt may seem strange that in our weakened condition we should have been glad to find that we had three | hundred feet more to climb. Remem- | | ber, however, that all the morning we | | had been gazing with dread at that | aggravating north peak. Whenever | | we had had a moment to give to the | | minating point of Coropuna. | be actually the first person to reach | With faint smiles and renewed courage we pegged along, resting on our ice axes, as usual, every twenty- five steps. At last, at half-past eleven, after six hours and a half of climbing from | 20,000-foot camp, we reached the cul- As we approached it, Tucker, al- though naturally much elated at hav- ing successfully engineered the first ascent of this great mountain, stop- ped and with extraordinary courtesy | and self-abnegation smilingly mo- | tioned to me to go ahead in order that the director of the expedition might | the culminating point. In order to appreclate how great a sacrifice. he was willing to make, it | should be stated that his willingness | to come on the expedition was due chiefly to a fondness for mountain “THE MULETEERS WERE TERRIFIED AT APPROACHING MYSTE- RIOUS CORPUNA." | we greedily drank the water which | had been heated for the hypsometer. We were thirsty enough drunk five times as much. to have We were |not hungry and made no use of our|we provisions except a few raisins, some sugar and chocolate. o * completing our PON observations we fastened the little tent as securely as possible, banking the snow around it and left it on top. first having placed in It one of the Appalachian Mountain Club's record cylinders, in which we sealed the Yale flag, a cotemporary map of Peru and two brief statements regarding the ascent. The American | flag was left flving from a nine-foot pole, which we planted at the north- west rim of the dome We left the summit at 3 o'clock and arrived at the 20,000-foot camp two hours and fifteen minutes later. No one in the western hemisphere had ever made night camps at 20,000 There were no rocks | feet or pitched a tent as high as the summit of Coropuna. That wear: although none of us slept violent whooping cough continued and all of us were nauseated again in the morning. We felt so bad and were able to take little nourishment that it was determined to get to a lower altitude as soon as possible. To lighten our loads we left behind some of the supplies. We night, unspeakably 50 broke camp at 9:20. Eighteen i minutes later, without having a rest, the cache was reached and the few remnants were picked up. Although many things had been abandoned, our loads seemed heavier than ever. In the other direction we looked along | About noon we heard a faint halloo, i i { and finally made out two animated specks far down the mountain side. The effect of again secing somebody from the outside world was rather teurious. I had a choking sensation. Tucker, who led the way, told me long afterward that he could not keep the tears from running down his cheeks. The “specks” turned out to be Watkins and an Indian boy. who, having come up as high as was safe without ropes or crampons, re- lieved us of some weight. The base camp was reached at half- past 12. The next day all of us felt hausted and drowsy. In fact, ex- I wa much. The! almost overcome with inertia fearful task even to lift one's hand The sun had burned faces ter- ribly. Our lips were painfully swollen pughed and whooped. It seemed to make rt to get back to a still lower altitude for the Tt was a our Dbest every ¢ [mules. 8o we broke can 828 werr. | rapidly dow rd (v e Indian huts Immediately our malalse left us. We |felt physically stronger. We took |deep breaths as though we had got- ten back to sea level. There was no sensation of oppression on the chest Yet we were still actually higher than the top of Pikes Peak | We could move rapidly about with- out getting out of breath; the az- gravating “whooping cough” left us; and our appetites returned. To be sure, we still suffered from the ef- fects of snow and sun. On the ascent I had been very thirsty and foolishly had allowed myself to eat a consider- able amount of snow. As a result my tongue was now so extremely sen- sitive that pleces of soda biscuit tast- like ed broken glass * ok x * RE followed two days of res: waiting. Then the smil- surpfised us’ alive again | T HE ! ing and ing arrieros, ed seelng our' adventure with rived with our mules, returned Subsequently and delight- after ar- at Coropuna, he next Chugquibamba. Chief day we to Topographer Hendricksen completed his survey and found the latitude of Coropuna to be fifteen degrees, thirty-one sec- onds south, and the longitude to be seventy-two degrees, forty-two min- utes, forty seconds west of Greenwlich. He computed its altitude to be 21,703 The result the readings of our feet above comparing curial barometer, mit, with the simultaneous readings taken at Arequipa gave practically the same figures, There was less than sixty feet difference between the two. Although Coropuna proved to be thir- sea level of me: sum- taken at the teen hundred feet lower than the Bandelier's estimate, and a thousand feet lower than the highest mount- ain in South America, still it a thousand feet higher than the high- est mountain in North America. While we were glad we were reach the ton, we a Inew—r the first to agreed we would do it again! Author’s Agent. Is New Field for Woman Workers BY SARAH MacDOUGALL. EING a literary agent is an ideal calling for ohe who likes reading and writers and enjoys performing a useful mediato- rial function between two sets of interdependent toilers. in a publishing Some position house Is the usual preparation. Women and men do the work equally well, providing they have an even share of that psycho- insight that enables them to know more about a writer than he knows himself. = Other qualifications are salesmanship, patience and an ac- quaintance with the legal technicali- ties of contracts. There is a super- stition that one should have a psychic ense that tells which editor will buy a certain kind of story. But when an agent admits having sent some famous piece of fiction to sixteen or sixty editors before it was given an logical any doubts on this subject. Tucker|opportunity to become a literary sen- took the wooden box in which we had brought the hypsometer. laid it on the snow, leveled it up carefully with the Stanley pocket level, and took a squint over it to the north peak. He smlled and said nothing. So each of us in turn lay down in the snow and took a squint. Jt was all right. We were at least 250 feet higher than that aggravating peak. After arriving at this relatively satisfactory conclusion we pitched the little mummery tent, set up the tripod for the mercurial barometer, arranged the boiling point therome- ter with its apparatus, and, in the next four hours, with the aid of kodaks and notebooks, proceeded to take as many observations as pos- sible. When we had finished the readings =2 714 - N = sation and finally sold It to an editor who had rejected it before, it would seem that persistence and postage stamps are entitled to some credit. * K % x MSS ANN WATKINS, authors’ rep- seldom-met resentative, is one of those 0= natives of New York. She promoted herself to the head of her own agency from a secretaryship for the editor of a magazine. When she was a girl of twenty a steady stream of manuscripts was passing through her hands to the editor's desk. She studied the standards by which he judged them, learned why they were good, mediocre or bad. In many of the manuscripts that had to be returned to the authors she de- tected the making of worthwhile fic- tion and often wished she could be given the job of reconstructing them. Her yearning for that kind of work materialized into her agency in an old house in the Murray Hill section. The former secretary, who hated to sée good material golng to waste, is having everything her own way. She does not write original fiction, but she matches her ideas with those of au- thors who need them. It would seem that behind her blue eyes are proces- sions of solitary thoughts walting for their mates. An idea or perhaps the skeleton of a plot comes popping up from a page. These ideas merge with other ideas which Miss Watkins sends out to meet them, and presently a story form has been brought to com- pletion. Miss Watkins calls this work collaborating plus salesmanship. She is not interested in criticizing manu- scripts for fees unless there is enough life in them to warrant their being worked into acceptable fiction. Much of her work consists in looking after the business of famous and highly paid men and women writers who de- pend on her to sell their product and guard their interests while they may keep their tempers sweet and pre- serve all their strong language for their stories. “An interesting part of an agent's work is the personal relation with au- thors and editors.” Miss Watkins said. “One must know when to criticize a writer, when to stimulate, when to pat on the back. Sometimes I feel like a prospector hunting for gold. It pays to take writers who have not entirely found themselves, develop them, spur them on to big things. There is & thrill in that. I consider myself a sort of clearing house, an information bureau between the writers and the editors. Long ago I learned to follow my own hunches. I 1 think a story is good it must be good, even though it be rejected many times."” * ¥ * ok VAVHAT she considers her best plece of salesmanship has to do with a famous New York editor. Over the telephone he wanted to know whether | she had any material in which he | might be interested, and she asked { him to come over for tea and a talk In her office was a story that had | been rejected thirty-two times—twice | by his magazine. She decided to sell {him that story. When he came in he seemed puzzled by her preoccupation If the manuscript was as interesting as all that he wanted to read it, too At first she would not let him see it explaining that she had picked out another destination for it. But in the end he bought it and paid the top price for it. Miss Jean Wick, who conducts a literary agency in New York, has the distinction of being the only graduate of Barnard College in that occupation Music was her early enthusiasm and she knew enough about it to write critical articles that brought an ac- quaintance with editors and publish- One spring when ghe wanted to g0 to England for a vacation went calling on publishers to ask there were any errands she might do for them in London. And there wer: She had commissions to see such peo- ple as Hugh Walpole, Joseph Conrad and May Sinclair. * * k X PERHAPS it was associating these celebrities in a may that sat- isfied the New York publishers, and perhaps it was being far enough away from home to get a perspective on things. When she came back she de- cided she would be a literary agent There have heen spells when it has been an uphill struggle. Day after duy throughout six months, for ex ample, she tried to market the writ- ings of a stranger who was new in New York, and every day she falled In the subsequent thirteen months she sold 100 of his stories. She cites that as an example of how persistent one must be and how dependent authors and editors are on the agents. I know a young woman whose hus- band gets two or three telephone calls a week from Miss Wick. Always she wants to know how the story is com- ing on. He writes an average of one in three weeks and she sells them for about $500. A club in the hand of a sympathetic friend may have endless ramifications in the world of letters. There are clients who do not imagine { that the resources of the relationship have been exhausted when she sells their storles. Perhaps one calls up and tells the literary agent she needs help to buy a new hat. “1 suppose you just cam’t write an- other line until you get that hat? | Miss Wick asks. . “No, T just can't,” the other woman confesses, and together they go shopping. ers. ) N R d b ; TIN ; J ¢ Part 5—8 Pages WASHINGTON, - D. ¢, SUNDAY MORNING, JULY 8, 1923. = but commenced to unload the mules. b o oeed Slta distinguished | |1t was necessary to rush back and H chaeologist and mountal commence a violent and acrimonious Sci i 1 1 i i i 1 climber, has dirccted three sel- | |alspute. Tho truth indecd was that Scientific Party, Hoping to Reach Pinnacle of the Hemisphere in Peruvian Andes, Meets | | entific expeditions into Peru | |the Tejadas were terrified at ap- 7 : - s T 2 T 3 £ C 2 e under the auspices of Yale Uni- | | proaching mysterious corapune. we | WVith Bitter Disappointment Upon Learning That Altitude of Coropuna Is Surpassed by That versity and the Netional Geo- | |offered a bonus of thirty soles—Af. P —fif- ¢ s 7 < S E o tetice < Tnlk , = T P ¢} sraphical Society. His discov- | |ceen aollars—it they would go -on |53 Of Aconcagua—Peak Visited Has Strange Characteristics Almost Unknown to Geographers. erfes of great Tnca ruins, prev- | | for another hour, and threatened fously known only in legend, | |them with all sorts of things if they have been an important contri- | | would not. At last they readjusted |gteady drudgery—now harder than| climbing and his desire to add Coro- buition to the lost history of | |the loads and started climbing again. | the day before. We broke camp at puna to his sheaf of victories. Great- the Americas. It is to \\mfe * % k¥ half-past 7 and by néon had reached Iy as I appreciated his kindness in ruins. the facts of which ““;” 'HE altitude was now about 16,-|an altitude of about 20,000 feet, on | making way for me, I could only ac- already been ““""“'“‘“: Sl 000 feet, but at the foot of ala snow fleld within a mile of the qulesce in so far as to continue the public, that P"ff- ‘_"?K ham ’e; steep little rise the arrieros stopped | saddle between the great truncated climb by his side. We reached the UtA STP s RHsraduc an e again. This time they succeeded in|peak and the rest of the range. It top together, and sank down upon the something hidden “behind the | {unloading two mules before we could | looked possible to reach the summit snow. ranges.” scramble down over the sand and|in one more day's climb from here. | The truncated summit Is an oval The party which finally | |boulders to stop them. Threats and| Leaying me to pitch the tent, the | shaped snow field, almost flat, having reached the summit of the | |prayers were now of no avail. The| others went back to the cache to an area of nearly half an acre, about | ¢ | sreat, mysterious Coropuna, be- only thing that would satisty Was & | pring up some of the supplies. By {100 feet north and south and 175 feet side Prof. Bingham, consisted legal document! They demanded An|¢ne time my companions appeared east and west. If it once were, as we of M, L. Tucker of thie Mount [ [agreement “in wrillng® that in cass| oot waseo completily tested that supposed, a voleanic crater, th McKinley expedition, Prof. Ale- | |any mule or mules died as a result ot} Y& © WoR ©0 CHRPIECI IS 0] had fone ol - Gracer; the pic jandro Coello of the Coleglo | |thls foolish attempt to get up to the| OFICTC OE W8 SO0 D a0 | ) oW e o Thocs L National, Peru, and Corporal | |snow line, I should pay in goid two [ MAde over the nearly level snow fleld. e o RRaviges Coamarra, a full-blooded Indian | |hundred soles for each and every| 1t feemed incredible that they SROUIE e o %0 be scem en the rhu—only (ke inod il st s s I A Eeth ox ) Tl ats “r: l';hl:e.keb;.'nr}) xl‘l-‘ ‘rn.\:““u?:"“m\! - v cru:‘t. of the glistening white surface. e to pay a bonus of fifty soles If they |After they were within vards of | - | The view from the top was desolate e {would keep climbing until noon or | the camp. s = in the extreme. We were in the midst 1 [untit stopped by snow. ¥ oE ok Y7 |of a great volcanic desert dotted with i A This document having been duly E were none of us hungry that| ;/ isolated peaks covered with snow and BY HIRAM BINGHAM, Grawn. b ¥ Drof. [Coello) oF out evening. We craved sweet tea /’fgf‘ occasional glaciers. Not an atom of Trofessor of meriean Hintory | party, seated on a lava rock amidst!|Before turning in for the night 7 |green was to be seen anywhere. Ap- oF ¥ University. the cinders of the old volcano, was|We took the trouble to melt snow parently we stood on top of a dead _CLZCO, the ancient capital of | duly signed and sealed. In order|and make a potful of tea which world, the mighty empire of the|that there might be no dispute as to|could be warmed up the first thing ok ox % Ineas, T was urged by ‘the|the time. my best chronometer was|in the morning. We passed another OUNTAIN climbers in the Andes Peruvian authorities to visit | handed over to one muleteer to carry | very bad night. The thermometer | IVl nave frequently spoken of seeing ome newly re-discovered Inca runs, | Until noon. The mules were reloaded | registered 7 degrees F., but we did | condors at great altitudes. We saw Mhese ruins were at Choqquequirau, |and again the ascent began. Present- | not suffer from the cold. We did, | none. Northwest, twenty miles away on top of a jungle-covered ridge |!¥ the animals encountered some|however, suffer from soroche. Violent | across the Pampa Colorada—a reddish several thousand feet above the roar- | Pretty bad h‘:‘“‘ e ah“'l;" ’f“’l"l whooping cough assalled us at fre- | desert—rose snow-capped Solimana. sng rapids of the great Apurimac. covered with | e “‘,“ ont ";” and | quent fntervals. While later, as a result of this in- | ¢ ""L‘l""“" "““‘~l e “}’;""““‘ "‘:’."? None of us slept much. I amused | the range of Coropuna itself; several vitation. Clarence L. Hay and 1 stood | tToUDle evers minute Flowevern te myself by counting my pulse oc- | of the lesser peaks being only A few n the slopes of Choqquequirau, the |~ "";;“"‘m‘zm"‘mp" ot v amta- | casionally, only to find that it per- | hundred feet below our elevation. clouds would occasionally break “l“’"‘ 2 Eal, e ¥ "] llswlen"!' refused to go below 120, Far to the southwest we imagined we away and give us tantalizing glimpses h"“" f"":“"““‘ )nno ot l“ "'“l“" {and if I moved would jump to 135.| could see the faint blue of the Pa- of ‘snow-covered mountaine. There | the snow line just fitteen minutes be- A seemed to us to be still another un- | fore twelve a'clock. = The Tejadas los 7 |° My father was am ardent mountain known region, “behind the ranges,”|BO time in l““d"‘: "‘i’ b |"“"5 d‘f” /7 |climber, glorying not only in the dif- which might contain great possibiii- [bonus, promised to returs In ten dave. | 1/} |fcuities of the scent, but particularly tics. Our guides could tell us nothing 414 @ "‘°"] i el bk j In the satisfaction coming from the about it. Little was to be found in n:;:‘r""’::":‘“ e EEig0 5,08 4 magnificent view to be obtained at the books. Perhaps . the Inca Manco's 5 t e = praes 3 ! op. His zeal had led him once, capital was hidden there. L e G winiter, to ascedd the highest neak n For months afterward the fascina- (i€ our base camp. . 5hath the Pacific, Mauna Kea .on Hawaii tion of the unknown drew my RENREERL [Sule ‘}"_“;’“" d" eed {Ho tRAEhY me s & boy £ baiToad oF thoughts to Choqauequirau and be- ““‘;" d“’: e climbing the mountains of Oahu and yond. In the words of Kipling's :;mls ‘“:; “‘m ”‘mr;:he {:mum‘;f“ jMaui and to be appreclative of the “Explorer”: views which could be obtained by sickness.) Less than a hundred yards uld be obtained by i el cemalentes Taag | W e T b such expenditure of effort. Yet now 1 lusting whisper day and night |Dal stream, fed by melting snow. could not take the least interest or 1—0: i ¥%| Whenever I went to get water for pleasnee.in the view from the top of & hiddes. Go and find it. Go and | cooking or washing purposes I no- Coropuna, nor could my companions. Leliind_ the ranges : & 5 No sense of satisfaction in having at- ng lost behind t nges. Lost and | ticed a startling and rapid rise in “waiting for you. -Go. : pulse and increasing shortness of tained a difficult objective cheered us ALy ve e up. We all felt greatly depressed 1 to my unrest, I read Ban- lrre_m‘):-dll]: :tl’fm-lh‘r;::‘h;(:nhgi :‘:e; We said little, afimoug'h‘upanm:—n volume, “Titfcaea and Kot |1 ZRIked WOWIF 8 BURCERE fo0 OF 8 asked for his bonus and regarded the had just appeared. In one of |ICVel At this SIS, L Tote L0 AT five gold sovereigns—which had heen the interesting footnotes was this e promised to him for remaining’ with startiing remark: “It is much to be |dropDed down to 100, | us to the top—wlith grim complacency. sired that the elevation of the most [ | Graduslly owr sense of tell-BEAE . After we had recovered somewhat prominent peaks of the western or | feparier SHL WIS K6 BREL T L ity we began to take observations. Un- coast range of Peru be accurately de- | IV . 2 slinging the aneroid which I had tormined. It is lkely * ¢ o that|There was ;‘k"’“’“‘!‘";‘n,';"‘t‘:,”‘mh]:i il |carrying. T found to my dismay o Coropuna. In the Peruvian coast range | ¥€7® 100 Slcl and Bos 10 oy the needle showed a height of only of the Department Arequipa. fs the [ That might &l T Ak i 4o s 21,525 feet above sea level. Tucker's culminating point of the continent. It :‘r’:‘:nd it situntils ana’ Giveavenéd consideration of anything but the im- janeroid read more than a thousand :‘:’n::‘efl:'_.l,fl:rl](me:,fl; wa"‘-h“"‘fi:"’” to carry away both of our tents. As g mediate difficultics of our climb, our | feet higher, 22,550 feet. but even this ot ..’;«.‘f(ut‘ b ;"‘H:“:phgz;wu lay awake, wondering at what & hearts had sunk within us at the|fell short of Raimondi's estimate of - Ao 2 v 1d find ourselves de- thought that possibly, after all, we |22.775 feet, and considerably below Is but 22,763 feet above sea level.” | mMoment we shou & ¥ : s 9 = His cstimate was hns’:d ”D,:e: s::.'” serted by the frail canvas shelters, we might find the north peak higher.|Bandelier's “23,000 feet. : s < ro- e : lay before us an-| This was a bitter dis ~ Southern Railroads >eru, us P s % 2= L z < ; - 2 e ot aa s USING | (¢ what might happen higher up. — would undoubtedly take us above the [Would at least show a margin over My sensations when I read this are| It Was decided to carry with us highest point of that aggravating |the altitude of Mount Aconcagua, My sens s ) Gl and eaps orth peak, was so very much the|22.763 feat. Such a discovery served difficult to describe. Although I had [from the base enoug ) = < e . . RAEEh S peak ey ¥ 7 e Sean atUAYIng SHUED Anw,,,l.afi ,,m‘,';‘. plies to last through any possible APPARENTLY, WE STOOD ON THE TOP OF A DEAD WORLD.” less of two evils that we underestood {to dampen our spirits still further. and geography for more than ten|misadventure, even of & week's dura- | Tucker's shout. Yet none of us was| At all events. the north peak did [tion. Tucker decided to establish a VG686 eRbagHIG oin0 IC look lower than we were. To satisfy a she London Place Names. RIGINALLY Hyde Park, in Lon- don, was the site of the anclent Manor of Hyde and belonged to the Monastery of St. Peter, Westminster. At the time it covered nearly 400 acres. In 1536 it was conveyed to King Henry VIIL 1In 1652 the park was described as “that impaled ground called Hyde Park” and was sold by order of parliament for £17.- 000. De Grammont referred to Hyde Park as a barn fleld in the time of Charles II. Although nowadays it is the rendezvous of fashion, at one time 1t was let out in farms. Loogon's famous Rotten row, it is interesting- = know, is derived from the French Route du rol, which meant the King's drive. Pall Mall gets Its name from being the grounds where King Charles and his courtlers played the game that was called pale mallle. That game, sometimes known as paille maille, consisted of hitting a ball with a maille (mallet) through an iron hoop that hung from an arm on a high pole. -