ON THE PEAK. 291 



roof, and there was nothing much worth seemg 

 within. 



Having refilled our waterskin, we again pushed 

 on, and shortly afterwards our guide pointed us 

 out a jet of vapour issuing from a crevice amongst 

 the rocks, which was the first intimation we had 

 that the internal fire was not extinct, and that the 

 volcano " was not dead, but sleeping." Shortly 

 afterwards we emerged from " the Malpas" and 

 crossed " the Rambleta," which is tolerably level, 

 and appears to be a kind of lower crest (perhaps 

 the brink of a former large crater), from which 

 the cone or peak rises some five hundred feet 

 higher. 



The last ascent, that of the Pico or cone, is 

 rather steeper than any other part of the route, but 

 there is absolutely nothing in the whole trip that 

 would try the nerves, or too severely test the 

 walking powers, even of a lady. 



As we arrived at the top of the cone, our olfac- 

 tories were greeted with a sulphurous smell, which 

 at first gave us rather a suffocating sensation, but 

 we soon got used to it, and stood upon the brink of 

 u2 



