My host at Heiku provided me with a horse and native
attendant, and I rode over the evening before to the house of his
brother, Mr. J. Alexander, who accompanied me, and his intelligent
and cultured society was one of the pleasures of the day.
People usually go up in the afternoon, camp near the summit, light a
fire, are devoured by fleas, roast and freeze alternately till
morning, and get up to see the grand spectacle of the sunrise, but I
think our plan preferable, of leaving at two in the morning. The
moon had set. It was densely dark, and it was raining on one side
of the road, though quite fine on the other. By the lamplight which
streamed from our early breakfast table, I only saw wet mules and
horses, laden with gear for a mountain ascent, a trim little
Japanese, who darted about helping, my native, who was picturesquely
dressed in a Mexican poncho, Mr. Alexander, who wore something which
made him unrecognisable; and myself, a tatterdemalion figure,
wearing a much-worn green topcoat of his over my riding suit, and a
tartan shawl arranged so as to fall nearly to my feet. Then we went
forth into the darkness. The road soon degenerated into a wood
road, then into a bridle track, then into a mere trail ascending all
the way; and at dawn, when the rain was over, we found ourselves
more than half-way up the mountain, amidst rocks, scoriae, tussocks,
ohelos, a few common compositae, and a few coarse ferns and woody
plants, which became coarser and scantier the higher we went up, but
never wholly ceased; for, at the very summit, 10,200 feet high,
there are some tufts of grass, and stunted specimens of a common
asplenium in clefts.
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