Photo by Frank M. Chapman 

 PACKING ICS} FROM ORIZABA I A CLOUD- FILLED CANYON BEHIND 



decline to the floor of the barranca, there 

 to be wrapped in saccate grass and old 

 serapes. 



Late that afternoon these men trotted 

 past our 'camp, now at 10,000 feet, on 

 their way to the tropics. Each one car- 

 ried a great cake of ice on his back, and 

 the burro had two. Mentally we fol- 

 lowed them in their journey, and the ex- 

 perience was properly rounded when sev- 

 eral days later the first sound that greeted 

 us as we stepped off the train at Cordoba 

 was the familiar "tome nieye" of the ice- 

 cream vender. 



The dueno de la montaha assured us 

 that El Pico had never been ascended 

 from this side, thereby quickly extin- 

 guishing whatever ambition we may have 



had to climb to the summit. Our task 

 indeed was finished when we reached the 

 upper limit of life, and with the collec- 

 tions made below we now had specimens 

 of birds, trees, and plants, paintings, pho- 

 tographs, and data with which to con- 

 struct our proposed Habitat Group of 

 Mt. Orizaba as seen from the Tropical 

 Zone at its base. 



In due time this group was completed, 

 and it stands, let us hope, for all time as 

 a not inadequate representation of a 

 mountain which, whether seen from the 

 sea as a sun-kissed cloud, from the low- 

 lands as a sky-piercing cone, or from the 

 pine forests as a massive, glittering dome, 

 always compels the homage we render a 

 great personality. 



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