32 Sierra Club Bulletin. 



twelve miles from water we turned back, much pleased 

 that one of our party had succeeded. Down, down, down 

 we went. Would we never again reach the dry stream- 

 bed? Ah! there it is! A short distance below this we 

 found our Negrito friends, who had slept in the rocks. 

 They had discovered a bee-tree and were eating the honey. 

 We found it mighty good, but it did not help our thirst 

 much. On, on, down the dry arroyo. Now and then 

 our guides stopped to suck a few drops of water which 

 they found on curled leaves, or to pick leeches from their 

 bare ankles. These disgusting little worms were numer- 

 ous and ravenous and annoyed the natives greatly. 

 About I P.M. the welcome roar of rushing water was 

 heard. The next quarter of a mile was a steeplechase 

 over logs and boulders, and we established the record for 

 that course. How good the life-giving fluid tasted as 

 we lay on the great flat stones and drank our fill ! 



At 4 P.M. we reached our camp, finding all in good 

 shape. An hour later we sat down to an enjoyable meal, 

 and our Negritos, not now so shy, helped us to eat it. 

 After supper they departed, and next day we returned to 

 Camp Stotsenburg. 



To Private Bums, Troop "L,'' Fifth Cavalry, prob- 

 ably belongs, then, the honor of being the first white man 

 that ever set foot on the summit of Mt. Pinatubo — 

 and he deseives it, for a tougher or a pluckier Httle man 

 does not wear Uncle Sam's uniform. Martin and Cesario 

 both assured us that Mt. Pinatubo had never before been 

 ascended. My attempt had not been a moment too soon, 

 for the day after my return heavy rains set in, and ten 

 days later I was en route to the United States, "God's 

 country." 



