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.
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