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Sept. 7, 1861.]
HER MAJESTY’S BIRTHDAY ON THE PEAK OF TENERIFFE.
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was difficult to believe it out of reach, while to the right and left lay immense blocks of rock in every conceivable form as far as the eye could reach.

After various rhapsodies had been indulged in, the horses again scrambled forward about half-a-mile, when the Estancia de la Sierra was reached, and an hour’s rest and refreshment taken by man and beast—temperature 38½°.

Several attempts were made to sketch the scene from this bivouac. The outline, indeed, of the noble peak was obtained, but the lunar rainbow, stratum of clouds, bright sky, wild and picturesque groups of men and horses round the fire, with the background of rugged rocks heaped into all sorts of fantastic shapes, proved too much for the artists, who were fain to carry off only an indelible impression on their minds.

About ten the cavalcade again proceeded and now found the road much better, leading over an extensive plain of pumice, which reaches quite to the base of the peak. This pumice has all the appearance of a light-coloured gravel, and is simply the congealed froth or foam of the volcano. It has probably been thrown down in a shower, and subsequently huge masses of slag have been sprinkled over it in every direction, the dark colour of which contrasts strongly with the reflected light of the pumice gravel upon which it rests.

Over these plains the horses made good progress, passing several patches of snow, and after resting a few minutes at the foot of the peak commenced the ascent of that “mountain on top of a mountain.” Scrambling, rolling and pitching, in a manner which rendered it difficult to keep the saddle, the party toiled upwards, and at length reached the “Estancia de los Ingleses” or resting-place of the English; much to the delight of the English, at least.

It was now eight minutes past midnight, and therefore the commencement of her Majesty’s natal day, the announcement of which was received in a truly British manner, although the cheers in that rarified atmosphere were by no means so resounding as they would have been in the foggy climate of dear old England. The preparations were soon completed for the display of fireworks, which were pronounced “magnifico!” by the muleteers and guide. Fortunately the clouds cleared away, and the shoulder of the peak, illuminated by various coloured fires, was seen and admired by the people 10,000 feet below, and for many miles round. The inhabitants of the quiet valley of Orotava will therefore most probably remember the day of the month on which her Majesty the Queen of England was born. At 2.30 the horses were again mounted and urged upwards, and after a nervous and most uncomfortable ride reached Alta Vista at a quarter past three. This small level spot, beyond which neither horses nor mules can go, was the site of Professor Smythe’s observatory, the walls of which are fast falling to decay; here every vestige of vegetation ceases, and the thermometer having reached freezing point, with