There were sundry false alarms of a start, as the horses arrived by ones and twos from the neighbouring villages, accompanied by their respective owners.  By two o’clock all our steeds, twelve in number, had assembled, and in another quarter of an hour we were leaving the town by a steep stony path, bordered by low walls.  There was no moon, and for the first two hours it was very dark.  At the end of that time we could see the first glimmer of dawn, and were shortly afterwards able to distinguish each other and to observe the beautiful view which lay below us as we wended our way up and up between small patches of cultivation.  Soon we climbed above the clouds, which presented a most curious appearance as we looked down upon them.  The strata through which we had passed was so dense and so white, that it looked exactly like an enormous glacier, covered with fresh fallen snow, extending for miles and miles; while the projecting tops of the other Canary Islands appeared only like great solitary rocks.

The sun had already become very oppressive, and at half-past seven we stopped to breakfast and to water the horses.  Half-past eight found us in the saddle again, and we commenced to traverse a dreary plain of yellowish white pumice-stone, interspersed with huge blocks of obsidian, thrown from the mouth of the volcano.  At first the monotony of the scene was relieved by large bushes of yellow broom in full flower, and still larger bushes of the beautiful Retama blanca, quite covered with lovely white bloom, scenting the air with its delicious fragrance, and resembling huge tufts of feathers, eight or nine feet high.  As we proceeded, however, we left all traces of vegetation behind us.  It was like the Great Sahara.  On every side a vast expanse of yellow pumice-stone sand spread around us, an occasional block of rock sticking up here and there, and looking as if it had indeed been fused in a mighty furnace.  By half-past ten we had reached the ‘Estancia de los Ingleses,’ 9,639 feet above the level of the sea, where the baggage and some of the horses had to be left behind, the saddles being transferred to mules for the very steep climb before us.  After a drink of water all round, we started again, and commenced the ascent of the almost perpendicular stream of lava and stone, which forms the only practicable route to the top.  Our poor beasts were only able to go a few paces at a time without stopping to regain their breath.  The loose ashes and lava fortunately gave them a good foothold, or it would have been quite impossible for them to get along at all.  One was only encouraged to proceed by the sight of one’s friends above, looking like flies clinging to the face of a wall.  The road, if such it can be called, ran in zigzags, each of which was about the length of two horses, so that we were in turns one above another.  There were a few slips and slides and tumbles, but no important casualties; and in about an hour and a half we had reached the ‘Alta Vista,’ a tiny plateau, where the horses were to be left.