THE PACIFIC OCEAN. 
til 
walked not lefs than twenty miles, according to their own i 779 . 
computation. As they had met with no fprings, from the L ^ ar _ ch ' 
time they left the plantation-ground, and began to fuffer 
much from the violence of their third:, they were obliged, 
before the night came on, to feparate into parties, and go 
in fearch of water; and, at laft, found fome, left by rain in 
the bottom of an unfinifhed canoe ; which, though of the 
colour of red wine, was to them no unwelcome difcovery. 
In the night, the cold was dill more intenfe than they had 
found it before; and though they had wrapped themfelves 
up in mats and cloths of the country, and kept a large fire 
between the two huts, they could yet deep but very little ; 
and were obliged to walk about the greateft part of the 
night. Their elevation was now probably pretty confider- 
able, as the ground on which they had travelled had been 
generally on the afcent. 
On the 29th, at day-break, they fet out, intending to make 
their laft and utmoft effort to reach the fnowy mountain ; 
but their fpirits were much depreffed, when they found 
they had expended the miferable pittance of w^ater they had 
found the night before. The path, which extended no far¬ 
ther than where canoes had been built, was now at an end ; 
and they were therefore obliged to make their way as well 
as they could; every now and then climbing up into the 
higheft trees, to explore the country round. At eleven 
o’clock, they came to a ridge of burnt ftones, from the top 
of which they faw the fnowy mountain, appearing to be 
about twelve or fourteen miles from them. 
It was here deliberated, whether they fhould proceed 
any further, or reft fatisfied with the view they now 
had of Mouna Roa. The road, ever fince the path ceafed, 
had become exceedingly fatiguing; and, every ftep they 
10 advanced, 
