26 Annals of the Carnegie Museum. 



where all further progress' on horseback was stopped by perpendicular 

 masses of rock. An observation here showed the boiling-point of 

 water 188.1 , or 13,000 feet. Singling out a promising looking crevice 

 in the rock, we managed, after sundry gymnastic performances, which 

 reminded me very much of wriggling up a somewhat narrow chimney, 

 to reach the foot of a large field of frozen snow, the long-sought-for 

 goal of my journeys. Indians have a most determined objection to 

 walk in snow, they complain (and with very good reason too) that 

 it burns their feet, so I left them to await my return and pushed on 

 alone, another terrible four hours of hard work. What hitherto ap- 

 peared as terraces and fields of hard smooth snow most inviting to the 

 eye, now became a tumbled up, heterogeneous mass of frozen snow and 

 ice, with frightful precipices, bridges, caverns full of brilliant icicles, 

 and all the other splendours and charms that make glacier travelling 

 so enticing and so dangerous. Each step had to be cut in the soft 

 yielding snow, and well stamped down to secure a footing. Thus after 

 many futile attempts I reached a small sheltered spot right in under 

 a projecting rock, the foot of the highest peak. Here all further prog- 

 ress was barred by the nature of the rock, and I discovered, to my 

 great mortification, as far as the dense white clouds would permit, 

 that, although near to the summit the last bit of rising ground was 

 inaccessible. The view, obscured by mists at this time of the year, 

 must at all other seasons be truly magnificent; but, nearly blinded by 

 the snow reflection and enveloped in a dense white fog, I could scarcely 

 see a couple of feet ahead, and with the bitter cold, besides being wet 

 through with snow-digging and frequent involuntary tumbles, man- 

 aged with difficulty to take an observation. The temperature of boil- 

 ing water proved to be 181. 2° Fahr. ; we were, therefore, nearly 17,000 

 feet above the sea. I was now far above the general chain of snow- 

 fields and minor peaks, and allowing at the most 500 feet for the rock 

 and patch of snow that still separated me from the summit, would 

 give a maximum height of 17,500 feet for the Sierra Nevada of Santa 

 Marta." 



Not only was Simons the pioneer explorer and ornithologist in this 

 particular field, but also it is to him that we are mainly indebted for 

 such knowledge as we have of the fauna of the southern slopes of 

 the mountains, later workers (with one exception) having confined 

 their investigations to the northern slopes. His collection as listed by 



