EFFECT OF THE ERUPTION

During the next day a quantity of lava flowed down the Val del Bove, branching off so that one stream advanced to the foot of Monte Finocchio, and the other to Monte Calanna. Afterwards it flowed towards Zaffarana, and devastated a large tract of wooded region. Four days later a second crater was formed near the first, from which lava was emitted, together with sand and scoriae, which caused cones to arise around the craters. The lava moved but slowly, and towards the end of August it came to a stand, only a quarter of a mile from Zaffarana.

On the second of September, Gemellaro ascended Monte Finocchio in the Val del Bove in order to witness the outburst. He states that the hill was violently agitated, like a ship at sea. The surface of the Val del Bove appeared like a molten lake; scoriae were thrown up from the craters to a great height, and loud explosions were heard at frequent intervals. The eruption continued to increase in violence. On October 6 two new mouths opened in the Val del Bove, emitting lava which flowed towards the valley of Calanna, and fell over the Salto della Giumenta, a precipice nearly 200 feet deep. The noise which it produced was like that of a clash of metallic masses. The eruption continued with abated violence during the early months of 1853, and it did not finally cease till May 27. The entire mass of lava ejected is estimated to have been equal to an area six miles long by two miles broad, with an average depth of about twelve feet.

This eruption was one of the grandest of all the known eruptions of Etna. During its outflow more than 2,000,000,000 cubic feet of molten lava was spread out over a space of three square miles. There have been several eruptions since its date, but none of marked prominence, though the mountain is rarely quiescent for any lengthened period.

THE LIPARI VOLCANOES

South-eastward of Ischia, between Calabria and Sicily, the Lipari Islands arrest attention for the volcanic phenomena they present. On one of these is Mount Vulcano, or Volcano, from which all this class of mountains is named. At present the best known of the Lipari volcanoes is Stromboli, which consists of a single mountain, having a very obtuse conical form. It has on one side of it several small craters, of which only one is at present in a state of activity.

The total height of the mountain is about 2000 feet, and the principal crater is situated at about two-thirds of the height. Stromboli is one of the most active volcanoes in the world. It is mentioned as being in a state of activity by several writers before the Christian era, and the commencement of its operations extends into the past beyond the limits of tradition. Since history began its action has never wholly ceased, although it may have varied in intensity from time to time.

It has been observed that the violence of its eruptive force has a certain dependence on the weather—being always most intense when the barometer is lowest. From the position of the crater, it is possible to ascend the mountain and look down upon it from above. Even when viewed in this manner, it presents a very striking appearance. While there is an uninterrupted continuance of small explosions, there is a frequent succession of more violent eruptions, at intervals varying in length from seven to fifteen minutes.

HOFFMAN AT STROMBOLI

Several eminent observers have approached quite close to the crater, and examined it narrowly. One of these was M. Hoffman, who visited it in 1828.

This eminent geologist, while having his legs held by his companions, stretched his head over the precipice, and, looking right down into the mouth of one of the vents of the crater immediately under him, watched the play of liquid lava within it. Its surface resembled molten silver, and was constantly rising and falling at regular intervals. A bubble of white vapor rose and escaped, with a decrepitating noise, at each ascent of the lava—tossing up red-hot fragments of scoria, which continued dancing up and down with a sort of rhythmic play upon the surface. At intervals of fifteen minutes or so, there was a pause in these movements. Then followed a loud report, while the ground trembled, and there rose to the surface of the lava an immense bubble of vapor. This, bursting with a crackling noise, threw out to the height of about 1200 feet large quantities of red-hot stones and scoriae, which, describing parabolic curves, fell in a fiery, shower all around. After another brief repose, the more moderate action was resumed as before.

Lipari, a neighboring volcano, was formerly more active than Stromboli, though for centuries past it has been in a state of complete quiescence. The Island of Volcano lies south of Lipari. Its crater was active before the Christian era, and still emits sulphurous and other vapors. At present its main office is to serve as a sulphur mine. Thus the peak which gives title to all fire-breathing mountains has become a servant to man. So are the mighty fallen!



CHAPTER XXIII.

Skaptar Jokull and Hecla, the Great Icelandic Volcanoes.

The far-northern island of Iceland, on the verge of the frozen Arctic realm, is one of the most volcanic countries in the world, whether we regard the number of volcanoes concentrated in so small a space, or the extraordinary violence of their eruptions. Of volcanic mountains there are no less than twenty which have been active during historical times. Skaptar in the north, and Hecla in the south, being much the best known. In all, twenty-three eruptions are on record.

Iceland's volcanoes rival Mount Aetna in height and magnitude, their action has been more continuous and intense, and the range of volcanic products is far greater than in Sicily. The latter island, indeed, is not one-tenth of volcanic origin, while the whole of Iceland is due to the work of subterranean forces. It is entirely made up of volcanic rocks, and has seemingly been built up during the ages from the depths of the seas. It is reported, indeed, that a new island, the work of volcanic forces, appeared opposite Mount Hecla in 1563; but this statement is open to doubt.

VOLCANOES IN ICELAND

The eruptions of the volcanoes in Iceland have been amongst the most terrible of those carefully recorded. The cold climate of the island and the height of the mountains produce vast quantities of snow and ice, which cover the volcanoes and fill up the cracks and valleys in their sides. When, therefore, an eruption commences, the intense heat of the boiling lava, and of the steam which rushes forth from the crater, makes the whole mountain hot, and vast masses of ice, great fields of snow, and deluges of water roll down the hill-sides into the plains. The lava pours from the top and from cracks in the side of the mountain, or is ejected hundreds of feet, to fall amongst the ice and snow; and the great masses of red-hot stone cast forth, accompanied by cinders and fine ashes, splash into the roaring torrent, which tears up rocks in its course and devastates the surrounding country for miles.

DREADFUL FLOODS

An eruption of Kotlugja, in 1860, was accompanied by dreadful floods. It began with a number of earthquakes, which shook the surrounding country. Then a dark columnar cloud of vapor was seen to rise by day from the mountain, and by night balls of fire (volcanic bombs) and red-hot cinders to the height of 24,000 feet (nearly five miles), which were seen at a distance of 180 miles. Deluges of water rushed from the heights, bearing along whole fields of ice and rocky fragments of every size, some vomited from the volcano, but in great part torn from the flanks of the mountain itself and carried to the sea, there to add considerably to the coastline after devastating the intervening country. The fountain of volcanic bombs consisted of masses of lava, containing gases which exploded and produced a loud sound, which was said to have been heard at a distance of 100 miles. The size of the bombs, and the height to which they must have reached, were very great. But the most remarkable of the historical eruptions in Iceland were those of Skaptar Jokull in 1783, and of Hecla in 1845. Of these an extended description is worthy of being given.

Of these two memorable eruptions, that of Skaptar Jokull began on the 11th of June, 1783. It was preceded by a long series of earthquakes, which had become exceedingly violent immediately before the eruption. On the 8th, volcanic vapors were emitted from the summit of the mountain, and on the 11th immense torrents of lava began to be poured forth from numerous mouths. These torrents united to form a large stream, which, flowing down into the river Skapta, not only dried it up, but completely filled the vast gorge through which the river had held its course. This gorge, 200 feet in breadth, and from 400 to 600 feet in depth, the lava filled so entirely as to overflow to a considerable extent the fields on either side. On issuing from this ravine, the lava flowed into a deep lake which lay in the course of the river. Here it was arrested for a while; but it ultimately filled the bed of the lake altogether—either drying up its waters, or chasing them before it into the lower part of the river's course. Still forced onward by the accumulation of molten lava from behind, the stream resumed its advance, till it reached some ancient volcanic rocks which were full of caverns. Into these it entered, and where it could not eat its way by melting the old rock, it forced a passage by shivering the solid mass and throwing its broken fragments into the air to a height of 150 feet.

A TORRENT OF LAVA

On the 18th of June there opened above the first mouth a second of large dimensions, whence poured another immense torrent of lava, which flowed with great rapidity over the solidified surface of the first stream, and ultimately combined with it to form a more formidable main current. When this fresh stream reached the fiery lake, which had filled the lower portion of the valley of the Skapta, a portion of it was forced up the channel of that river towards the foot of the hill whence it takes its rise. After pursuing its course for several days, the main body of this stream reached the edge of a great waterfall called Stapafoss, which plunged into a deep abyss. Displacing the water, the lava here leaped over the precipice, and formed a great cataract of fire. After this, it filled the channel of the river, though extending itself in breadth far beyond it, and followed it until it reached the sea.

ENORMOUS QUANTITY OF LAVA

The 3rd of August brought fresh accessions to the flood of lava still pouring from the mountain. There being no room in the channel, now filled by the former lurid stream, which had pursued a northwesterly course, the fresh lava was forced to take a new direction towards the southeast, where it entered the bed of another river with a barbaric name. Here it pursued a course similar to that which flowed through the channel of the Skapta, filling up the deep gorges, and then spreading itself out into great fiery lakes over the plains.

The eruptions of lava from the mountain continued, with some short intervals, for two years, and so enormous was the quantity poured forth during this period that, according to a careful estimate which has been made, the whole together would form a mass equal to that of Mont Blanc. Of the two streams, the greater was fifty, the less forty, miles in length. The Skapta branch attained on the plains a breadth varying from twelve to fifteen miles—that of the other was only about half as much. Each of the currents had an average depth of 100 feet, but in the deep gorges it was no less than 600 feet. Even as late as 1794 vapors continued to rise from these great streams, and the water contained in the numerous fissures formed in their crust was hot.

The devastation directly wrought by the lava currents themselves was not the whole of the evils they brought upon unfortunate Iceland and its inhabitants. Partly owing to the sudden melting of the snows and glaciers of the mountain, partly owing to the stoppage of the river courses, immense floods of water deluged the country in the neighborhood, destroying many villages and a large amount of agricultural and other property. Twenty villages were overwhelmed by the lava currents, while the ashes thrown out during the eruption covered the whole island and the surface of the sea for miles around its shores. On several occasions the ashes were drifted by the winds over considerable parts of the European continent, obscuring the sun and giving the sky a gray and gloomy aspect. In certain respects they reproduced the phenomena of the explosion of Mount Krakatoa, which, singularly, occurred just a century later, in 1883. The strange red sunset phenomena of the latter were reproduced by this Icelandic event of the eighteenth century.

Out of the 50,000 persons who then inhabited Iceland, 9,336 perished, together with 11,460 head of cattle, 190,480 sheep and 28,000 horses. This dreadful destruction of life was caused partly by the direct action of the lava currents, partly by the noxious vapors they emitted, partly by the floods of water, partly by the destruction of the herbage by the falling ashes, and lastly in consequence of the desertion of the coasts by the fish, which formed a large portion of the food of the people.

ERUPTION OF MOUNT HECLA

After this frightful eruption, no serious volcanic disturbance took place in Iceland until 1845, when Mount Hecla again became disastrously active. Mount Hecla has been the most frequent in its eruptions of any of the Icelandic volcanoes. Previous to 1845 there had been twenty-two recorded eruptions of this mountain, since the discovery of Iceland in the ninth century; while from all the other volcanoes in the island there had been only twenty during the same period. Hecla has more than once remained in activity for six years at a time—a circumstance that has rendered it the best known of the volcanoes of this region.

LATER OUTBREAKS

After enjoying a long rest of seventy-nine years, this volcano burst again into violent activity in the beginning of September, 1845. The first inkling of this eruption was conveyed to the British Islands by a fall of volcanic ashes in the Orkneys, which occurred on the night of September 2nd during a violent storm. This palpable hint was soon confirmed by direct intelligence from Copenhagen. On the 1st of September a severe earthquake, followed the same night by fearful subterranean noises, alarmed the inhabitants and gave warning of what was to come. About noon the next day, with a dreadful crash, there opened in the sides of the volcano two new mouths, whence two great streams of glowing lava poured forth. They fortunately flowed down the northern and northwestern sides of the mountain, where the low grounds are mere barren heaths, affording a scanty pasture for a few sheep. These were driven before the fiery stream, but several of them were burnt before they could escape. The whole mountain was enveloped in clouds of volcanic ashes and vapors. The rivers near the lava currents became so hot as to kill the fish, and to be impassable even on horseback.

About a fortnight later there was a fresh eruption, of greater violence, which lasted twenty-two hours, and was accompanied by detonations so loud as to be heard over the whole island. Two new craters were formed, one on the southern, the other on the eastern slope of the cone. The lava issuing from these craters flowed to a distance of more than twenty-two miles. At about two miles from its source the fiery stream was a mile wide, and from 40 to 50 feet deep. It destroyed a large extent of fine pasture and many cattle. Nearly a month later, on the 15th of October, a fresh flood of lava burst from the southern crater, and soon heaped up a mass at the foot of the mountain from 40 to 60 feet in height, three great columns of vapor, dust and ashes rising at the same time from the three new craters of the volcano. The mountain continued in a state of greater or less activity during most of the next year; and even as late as the month of October, 1846, after a brief pause, it began again with renewed vehemence. The volumes of dust, ashes and vapor, thrown up from the craters, and brightly illuminated by the glowing lava beneath, assumed the appearance of flames, and ascended to an immense height.

ELECTRIC PHENOMENA

Among the stones tossed out of the craters was one large mass of pumice weighing nearly half a ton, which was carried to a distance of between four and five miles. The rivers were flooded by the melting of ice and snow which had accumulated on the mountain. The greatest mischief wrought by these successive eruptions was the destruction of the pasturages, which were for the most part covered with volcanic ashes. Even where left exposed, the herbage acquired a poisonous taint which proved fatal to the cattle, inducing among them a peculiar murrain. Fortunately, owing to the nature of the district through which the lava passed, there was on this occasion no loss of human life.

The Icelandic volcanoes are remarkable for the electric phenomena which they produce in the atmosphere. Violent thunder-storms, with showers of rain and hail, are frequent accompaniments of volcanic eruptions everywhere; but owing to the coldness and dryness of the air into which the vapors from the Icelandic volcanoes ascend, their condensation is so sudden and violent that great quantities of electricity are developed. Thunder-storms accompanied by the most vivid lightnings are the result. Humboldt mentions in his "Cosmos" that, during an eruption of Kotlugja, one of the southern Icelandic volcanoes, the lightning from the cloud of volcanic vapor killed eleven horses and two men (Cosmos i. 223). Great displays of the aurora borealis usually accompany the volcanic eruptions of this island—doubtless resulting from the quantity of electricity imparted to the higher atmosphere by the condensation of the ascending vapors. On the 18th of August, 1783, while the great eruption of Skaptar Jokull was in progress, an immense fire-ball passed over England and the European continent as far as Rome. This ball which was estimated to have had a diameter exceeding half a mile, is supposed to have been of electrical origin, and due to the high state of electric tension in the atmosphere over Iceland at that time.



CHAPTER XXIV.

Volcanoes of the Philippines and Other Pacific Islands.

We cannot do better than open this chapter with an account of the work of volcanoes in the mountain-girdled East Indian island of Java. This large and fertile tropical island has a large native population, and many European settlers are employed in cultivating spices, coffee and woods. The island is rather more than 600 miles long, and it is not 150 miles broad in any part; and this narrow shape is produced by a chain of volcanoes which runs along it. There is scarcely any other region in the world where volcanoes are so numerous, even in the East, where the volcano is a very common product of nature. Some of the volcanoes of Java are constantly in eruption, while others are inactive.

One of their number, Galung Gung, was previous to 1822 covered from top to bottom with a dense forest; around it were populous villages. The mountain was high; there was a slight hollow on its top—a basin-like valley, carpeted with the softest sward; brooks rippled down the hillside through the forests, and, joining their silvery streams, flowed on through beautiful valleys into the distant sea. In the month of July, 1822, there were signs of an approaching disturbance; this tranquil peacefulness was at an end; one of the rivers became muddy, and its waters grew hot.

In October, without any warning, a most terrific eruption occurred. A loud explosion was heard; the earth shook, and immense columns of hot water, boiling mud mixed with burning brimstone, ashes and stones, were hurled upwards from the mountain top like a waterspout, and with such wonderful force that large quantities fell at a distance of forty miles. Every valley near the mountain became filled with burning torrents; the rivers, swollen with hot water and mud, overflowed their banks, and swept away the escaping villagers; and the bodies of cattle, wild beasts, and birds were carried down the flooded stream.

ERUPTION OF GALUNG GUNG

A space of twenty-four miles between the mountain and a river forty miles distant was covered to such a depth with blue mud, that people were buried in their houses, and not a trace of the numerous villages and plantations was visible. The boiling mud and cinders were cast forth with such violence from the crater, that while many distant villages were utterly destroyed and buried, others much nearer the volcano were scarcely injured; and all this was done in five short hours.

Four days afterwards a second eruption occurred more violent than the first, and hot water and mud were cast forth with masses of slag like the rock called basalt some of which fell seven miles off. A violent earthquake shook the whole district, and the top of the mountain fell in, and so did one of its sides, leaving a gaping chasm. Hills appeared where there had been level land before, and the rivers changed their courses, drowning in one night 2,000 people. At some distance from the mountain a river runs through a large town, and the first intimation the inhabitants had of all this horrible destruction was the news that the bodies of men and the carcases of stags, rhinoceroses, tigers, and other animals, were rushing along to the sea. No less than 114 villages were destroyed, and above 4,000 persons were killed by this terrible catastrophe.

Fifty years before this eruption, Mount Papandayang, one of the highest burning mountains of Java, was constantly throwing out steam and smoke, but as no harm was done, the natives continued to live on its sides. Suddenly this enormous mountain fell in, and left a gap fifteen miles long and six broad. Forty villages were destroyed, some being carried down and others overwhelmed by mud and burning lava. No less than 2,957 people perished, with vast numbers of cattle; moreover, most of the coffee plantations in the neighboring districts were destroyed.

Even more terrible was the eruption of Mount Salek, another of the volcanoes of Java. The burning of the mountain was seen 100 miles away, while the thunders of its convulsions and the tremblings of the earth reached the same distance. Seven hills, at whose base ran a river—crowded with dead buffaloes, deer, apes, tigers, and crocodiles—slipped down and became a level plain. River-courses were changed, forests were burnt up, and the whole face of the country was completely altered.

Later volcanic eruptions in Java include that of 1843, when Mount Guntur flung out sand and ashes estimated at the vast total of thirty million tons, and those of 1849 and 1872 when Mount Merapi, a very active volcano, covered a great extent of country with stones and ashes, and ruined the coffee plantations of the neighboring districts.

We have said nothing concerning the most terrible explosion of all, that of the volcanic island of Krakatoa, off the Javan coast. This event was so phenomenal as to deserve a chapter of its own, for which we reserve it.

The United States, as one result of its recent acquisition of island dominions, has added largely to its wealth in volcanic mountains. The famous Hawaiian craters, far the greatest in the world, now belong to our national estate, and the Philippine Islands contain various others, of less importance, yet some of which have proved very destructive. A description of those of the Island of Luzon, which are the most active in the archipelago, is here sub-joined.

THE LUZON VOLCANOES.

Volcanoes have played an important part in the formation of the Philippine Islands and have left traces of their former activity in all directions. Most of them, however, have long been dead and silent, only a few of the once numerous group being now active. Of these there are three of importance in the southern region of Luzon—Taal, Bulusan and Mayon or Albay.

The last named of these is the largest and most active of the existing volcanoes. In form it is of marvellous grace and beauty, forming a perfect cone, about fifty miles in circuit at base and rising to a height of 8,900 feet. It is one of the most prominent landmarks to navigators in the island. From its crater streams upward a constant smoke, accompanied at times by flame, while from its depths issue subterranean sounds, often heard at a distance of many leagues. The whole surrounding country is marked by evidences of old eruptions.

This mountain, in 1767, sent up a cone of flame of forty feet in diameter at base, for ten days, and for two months a wide stream of lava poured from its crater. A month later there gushed forth great floods of water, which filled the rivers to overflow, doing widespread damage to the neighboring plantations. But its greatest and most destructive eruption took place in 1812, the year of the great eruption of the St. Vincent volcano. On this fatal occasion several towns were destroyed and no less than 12,000 people lost their lives. The debris flung forth from the crater were so abundant that deposits deep enough to bury the tallest trees were formed near the mountain. In 1867 another disastrous explosion took place, and still another in 1888. A disaster different in kind and cause occurred in 1876, when a terrible tropical storm burst upon the mountain. The floods of rain swept from its sides the loose volcanic material, and brought destruction to the neighboring country, more than six thousand houses being ruined by the rushing flood.

BULUSAN AND TAAL

Bulusan, a volcano on the southern extremity of the island, resembles Vesuvius in shape. For many years it remained dormant, but in 1852 smoke began to issue from its crater. In some respects the most interesting of these three volcanoes is that of Taal, which lies almost due south of Manila and about forty-five miles distant, on a small island in the middle of a large lake, known as Bombom or Bongbong. A remarkable feature of this volcanic mountain is that it is probably the lowest in the world, its height being only 850 feet above sea level. There are doubtful traditions that Lake Bombom, a hundred square miles in extent, was formed by a terrible eruption in 1700, by which a lofty mountain 8000 or 9000 feet high, was destroyed. The vast deposits of porous tufa in the surrounding country are certainly evidences of former great eruptions from Mount Taal.

The crater of this volcano is an immense, cup-shaped depression, a mile or more in diameter and about 800 feet deep. When recently visited by Professor Worcester, during his travels in these islands, he found it to contain three boiling lakelets of strangely-colored water, one being of a dirty brown hue, a second intensely yellow in tint, and the third of a brilliant emerald green. The mountain still steams and fumes, as if too actively at work below to be at rest above. In past times it has shown the forces at play in its depths by breaking at times into frightful activity. Of the various explosions on record, the three most violent were those of 1716, 1749, and 1754. In the last-named year the earth for miles round quaked with the convulsive throes of the deeply disturbed mountain, and vast quantities of volcanic dust were hurled high into the air, sufficient to make it dark at midday for many leagues around. The roofs of distant Manila were covered with volcanic dust and ashes. Molten lava also poured from the crater and flowed into the lake, which boiled with the intense heat, while great showers of stones and ashes fell into its waters.

VOLCANOES IN THE SOUTHERN ISLANDS

Extinct volcanoes are numerous in Luzon, and there are smoking cones in the north, and also in the Babuyanes Islands still farther north. Volcanoes also exist in several of the other islands. On Negros is the active peak of Malaspina, and on Camiguin, an island about ninety miles to the southeast, a new volcano broke out in 1876. The large island of Mindanao has three volcanoes, of which Cottabato was in eruption in 1856 and is still active at intervals. Apo, the largest of the three, estimated to be 10,312 feet high, has three summits, within which lies the great crater, now extinct and filled with water.

In evidence of former volcanic activity are the abundant deposits of sulphur on the island of Leyte, the hot springs in various localities, and the earthquakes which occasionally bring death and destruction. Of the many of these on record, the most destructive was in 1863, when 400 people were killed and 2,000 injured, while many buildings were wrecked. Another in 1880 wrought great destruction in Manila and elsewhere, though without loss of life. An earthquake in Mindanao in 1675 opened a passage to the sea, and a vast plain emerged. These convulsions of the earth affect the form and elevation of buildings, which are rarely more than two stories high and lightly built, while translucent sea-shells replace glass in their windows.

While Java is the most prolific in volcanoes of the islands of the Malayan Archipelago, other islands of the group possess active cones, including Sumatra, Bali, Amboyna, Banda and others. In Sanguir, an island north of Celebes, is a volcanic mountain from which there was a destructive eruption in 1856. The country was devastated with lava, stones and volcanic ashes, ruining a wide district and killing nearly 3,000 of the inhabitants. Mount Madrian in one of the Spice Islands, was rent in twain by a fierce eruption in 1646, and since then has remained two distinct mountains. It became active again in 1862, after two centuries of repose, and caused great loss of life and property. Sorea, a small island of the same group, forming but a single volcanic mountain, had an eruption in 1693, the cone crumbling gradually till a vast crater was formed, filled with liquid lava and occupying nearly half the island. This lake of fire increased in size by the same process till in the end it took possession of the island and forced all the inhabitants to flee to more hospitable shores.

THE GREAT ERUPTION OF TOMBORO

But of the East Indian Islands Sumbawa, lying east of Java, contains the most formidable volcano—one indeed scarcely without a rival in the world. This is named Tomboro. Of its various eruptions the most furious on record was that of 1815. This, as we are told by Sir Stamford Raffles, far exceeded in force and duration any of the known outbreaks of Etna or Vesuvius. The ground trembled and the echoes of its roar were heard through an area of 1,000 miles around the volcano, and to a distance of 300 miles its effects were astounding.

In Java, 300 miles away, ashes filled the air so thickly that the solar rays could not penetrate them, and fell to the depth of several inches. The detonations were so similar to the reports of artillery as to be mistaken for them. The Rajah of Sang'ir, who was an eye-witness of the eruption, thus described it to Sir Stamford:

"About 7 P. M. on the 10th of April, three distinct columns of flame burst forth near the top of the Tomboro mountain (all of them apparently within the verge of the crater), and, after ascending separately to a very great height, their tops united in the air in a troubled, confused manner. In short time the whole mountain next Sang'ir appeared like a body of liquid fire, extending itself in every direction. The fire and columns of flame continued to rage with unabated fury, until the darkness caused by the quantity of falling matter obscured them, at about 8 P. M. Stones at this time fell very thick at Sang'ir—some of them as large as two fists, but generally not larger than walnuts. Between 9 and 10 P. M. ashes began to fall, and soon after a violent whirlwind ensued, which blew down nearly every house in the village of Sang'ir—carrying the roofs and light parts away with it. In the port of Sang'ir, adjoining Tomboro, its effects were much more violent—tearing up by the roots the largest trees, and carrying them into the air, together with men, horses, cattle, and whatever else came within its influence. This will account for the immense number of floating trees seen at sea. The sea rose nearly twelve feet higher than it had ever been known to do before, and completely spoiled the only spots of rice-land in Sang'ir—sweeping away houses and everything within its reach. The whirlwind lasted about an hour. No explosions were heard till the whirlwind had ceased, at about 11 P.M. From midnight till the evening of the 11th, they continued without intermission. After that time their violence moderated, and they were heard only at intervals; but the explosions did not cease entirely until the 15th of July. Of all the villages of Tomboro, Tempo, containing about forty inhabitants, is the only one remaining. In Pekate no vestige of a house is left; twenty-six of the people, who were at Sumbawa at the time, are the whole of the population who have escaped. From the most particular inquiries I have been able to make, there were certainly no fewer than 12,000 individuals in Tomboro and Pekate at the time of the eruption, of whom only five or six survive. The trees and herbage of every description, along the whole of the north and west sides of the peninsula, have been completely destroyed, with the exception of those on a high point of land, near the spot where the village of Tomboro stood."

Tomboro village was not only invaded by the sea on this occasion, but its site permanently subsided; so that there is now eighteen feet of water where there was formerly dry land.

THE VOLCANOES OF JAPAN

The Japanese archipelago, as stated in an earlier chapter, is abundantly supplied with volcanoes, a number of them being active. Of these the best known to travelers is Asamayama, a mountain 8,500 feet high, of which there are several recorded eruptions. The first of these was in 1650; after which the volcano remained feebly active till 1783, when it broke out in a very severe eruption. In 1870 there was another of some severity, accompanied by violent shocks of earthquake felt at Yokohama. The crater is very deep, with irregular rocky walls of a sulphurous character.

Far the most famous of all the Japanese mountains, however, is that named Fuji-san, but commonly termed in English Fujiyama or Fusiyama. It is in the vicinity of the capital, and is the most prominent object in the landscape for many miles around. The apex is shaped somewhat like an eight-petaled lotus flower, and offers to view from different directions from three to five peaks.

Though now apparently extinct, it was formerly an active volcano, and is credited in history with several very disastrous eruptions. The last of these was in 1707, at which time the whole summit burst into flames. Rocks were split and shattered by the heat, and stones fell to the depth of several inches in Yeddo (now Tokyo), sixty miles away. At present there are in its crater, which has a depth of 700 or 800 feet, neither sulphurous exhalations nor steam. According to Japanese tradition this great peak was upheaved in a single night from the bottom of the sea, more than twenty-one hundred years ago.

Nothing can be more majestic than this volcano, extinct though it be, rising in an immense cone from the plain to the height of over twelve thousand feet, truncated at the top, and with its peak almost always snow-covered. Its ascent is not difficult to an expert climber, and has frequently been made. From its summit is unfolded a panorama beyond the power of words to describe, and probably the most remarkable on the globe. Mountains, valleys, lakes, forests and the villages of thirteen counties may be seen. As we gaze upon its beautifully shaped and lofty mass, visible even from Yokohama and a hundred miles at sea, one does not wonder that it should be regarded as a holy mountain, and that it should form a conspicuous object in every Japanese work of art. It is to the natives of Japan as Mont Blanc is to Europeans, the "monarch of mountains."

In summer pilgrimages are made around the base of the summit elevation, and there are on the upward path a number of Buddhist temples and shrines, made of blocks of stone, for devotion, shelter and the storage of food for pilgrims. Hakone Lake is three thousand feet above the sea, and probably lies in the crater of an extinct volcano. Its waters are very deep; it is several miles long and wide, and is surrounded by high hills which abound in fine scenery, solfataras and mineral springs.

HOT SPRINGS NEAR HAKONE LAKE

At this place the mountain seems to be smouldering, as sulphur fumes and steam issue at many points, and the ground is covered with a friable white alkaline substance. In many a hollow the water bubbles with clouds of vapor and sulphuretted hydrogen; here the soil is hot and evidently underlaid by active fires. It is not safe to go very near, as the crust is thin and crumbling. The water running down the hills has a refreshing sound and a tempting clearness, but the thirsty tongue at once detects it to be a very strong solution of alum. The whole aspect of the place is infernal, and naturally suggests the name given its principal geyser, O-gigoko (Big Hell).

Fujiyama is almost a perfect cone, with, as above said, a truncated top, in which is the crater. It is, however, less steep than Mayon. Its upper part is comparatively steep, even to thirty-five degrees, but below this portion the inclination gradually lessens, till its elegant outlines are lost in the plain from which it rises. The curves of the sides depend partly on the nature, size and shape of the ejected material, the fine uniform pieces remaining on comparatively steep slopes, while the larger and rounder ones roll farther down, resting on the inclination that afterward becomes curved from the subsidence of the central mass.

The most recent and one of the most destructive of volcanic eruptions recorded in Japan was that of Bandaisan or Baldaisan. For ages this mountain had been peaceful, and there was scarcely an indication of its volcanic character or of the terrific forces which lay dormant deep within its heart. On its flanks lay some small deposits of scoriae, indications of far-past eruptions, and there were some hot springs at its base, while steam arose from a fissure. Yet there was nothing to warn the people of the vicinity that deadly peril lay under their feet.

BANDAISAN'S WORK OF TERROR

This sense of security was fatally dissipated on a day in July, 1888, when the mountain suddenly broke into eruption and flung 1,600 million cubic yards of its summit material so high into the air that many of the falling fragments, in their fall, struck the ground with such velocity as to be buried far out of sight. The steam and dust were driven to a height of 13,000 feet, where they spread into a canopy of much greater elevation, causing pitchy darkness beneath. There were from fifteen to twenty violent explosions, and a great landslide devastated about thirty square miles and buried many villages in the Nagase Valley.

Mr. Norman, a traveler who visited the spot shortly afterward, thus describes the scene of ruin. After a journey through the forests which clothed the slopes of the volcanic mountain and prevented any distant view, the travelers at last found themselves "standing upon the ragged edge of what was left of the mountain of Bandaisan, after two-thirds of it, including, of course, the summit, had been literally blown away and spread over the face of the country.

"The original cone of the mountain," he continues, "had been truncated at an acute angle to its axis. From our very feet a precipitous mud slope falls away for half a mile or more till it reaches the level. At our right, still below us, rises a mud wall a mile long, also sloping down to the level, and behind it is evidently the crater; but before us, for five miles in a straight line, and on each side nearly as far, is a sea of congealed mud, broken up into ripples and waves and great billows, and bearing upon its bosom a thousand huge boulders, weighing hundreds of tons apiece."

On reaching the crater he found it to resemble a gigantic cauldron, fully a mile in width, and enclosed with precipitous walls of indurated mud. From several orifices volumes of steam rose into the air, and when the vapor cleared away for a moment glimpses of a mass of boiling mud were obtained. Before the eruption the mountain top had terminated in three peaks. Of these the highest had an elevation of about 5,800 feet. The peak destroyed was the middle one, which was rather smaller than the other two.

"The explosion was caused by steam; there was neither fire nor lava of any kind. It was, in fact, nothing more nor less than a gigantic boiler explosion. The whole top and one side of Sho-Bandai-san had been blown into the air in a lateral direction, and the earth of the mountain was converted by the escaping steam, at the moment of the explosion, into boiling mud, part of which was projected into the air to fall at a long distance, and then take the form of an overflowing river, which rushed with vast rapidity and covered the country to a depth of from 20 to 150 feet. Thirty square miles of country were thus devastated."

In the devastated lowlands and buried villages below and on the slopes of the mountain many lives were lost. From the survivors Mr. Norman gathered some information, enabling him to describe the main features of the catastrophe. We append a brief outline of his narrative:

MR. NORMAN'S NARRATIVE

"At a few minutes past 8 o'clock in the morning a frightful noise was heard by the inhabitants of a village ten miles distant from the crater. Some of them instinctively took to flight, but before they could run much more than a hundred yards the light of day was suddenly changed into a darkness more intense than that of midnight; a shower of blinding hot ashes and sand poured down upon them; the ground was shaken with earthquakes, and explosion followed explosion, the last being the most violent of all. Many fugitives, as well as people in the houses, were overwhelmed by the deluge of mud, none of the fugitives, when overtaken by death, being more than two hundred yards from the village." From the statements made by those fortunate enough to escape with their lives, and from a personal examination of the ground, Mr. Norman inferred that the mud must have been flung fully six miles through the air and then have poured in a torrent along the ground for four miles further. All this was done in less than five minutes, so that "millions of tons of boiling mud were hurled over the country at the rate of two miles a minute."

The velocity of the mud torrent may perhaps be overestimated, but in its awful suddenness this catastrophe was evidently one with few equals. The cone destroyed may have been largely composed of rather fine ashes and scoriae, which was almost instantaneously converted into mud by the condensing steam and the boiling water ejected. The quantity of water thus discharged must have been enormous.

Of the remaining volcanic regions of the Pacific, the New Zealand islands present some of the most striking examples of activity. All the central parts, indeed, of the northern island of the group are of a highly volcanic character. There is here a mountain named Tongariro, on whose snow-clad summit is a deep crater, from which volcanic vapors are seen to issue, and which exhibits other indications of having been in a state of greater activity at a not very remote period of time. There is also, at no great distance from this mountain, a region containing numerous funnel-shaped chasms, emitting hot water, or steam, or sulphurous vapors, or boiling mud. The earthquakes in New Zealand had probably their origin in this volcanic focus.

THE NEW ZEALAND VOLCANOES

Tongariro has a height of about 6,500 feet, while Egmont, 8,270 feet in height, is a perfect cone with a perpetual cap of snow. There are many other volcanic mountains, and also great numbers of mud volcanoes, hot springs and geysers. It is for the latter that the island is best known to geologists. Their waters are at or near the boiling point and contain silica in abundance.

At a place called Rotomahana, in the vicinity of Mount Tarawera, there was formerly a lake of about one hundred and twenty acres in area, which was in its way one of the most remarkable bodies of water upon the earth. Formerly, we say, for this lake no longer exists, it having been destroyed by the very forces to which it owed its fame. Its waters were maintained nearly at the boiling point by the continual accession of boiling water from numerous springs. The most abundant of those sources was situated at the height of about 100 feet above the level of the lake. It kept continually filled an oval basin about 250 feet in circumference—the margins of which were fringed all round with beautiful pure white stalactites, formed by deposits of silica, with which the hot water was strongly impregnated. At various stages below the principal spring were several others, that contributed to feed the lake at the bottom, in the centre of which was a small island. Minute bubbles continually escaped from the surface of the water with a hissing sound, and the sand all round the lake was at a high temperature. If a stick was thrust into it, very hot vapors would ascend from the hole. Not far from this lake were several small basins filled with tepid water, which was very clear, and of a blue color.

The conditions here were of a kind with those to which are due the great geysers of Iceland and the Yellowstone Park, but different in the fact that instead of being intermittent and throwing up jets at intervals, the springs allowed the water to flow from them in a continuous stream.

THE PINK AND WHITE TERRACES

The silicious incrustations left by the overflow from the large pool had made a series of terraces, two to six feet high, with the appearance of being hewn from white or pink marble; each of the basins containing a similar azure water. These terraces covered an area of about three acres, and looked like a series of cataracts changed into stone, each edge being fringed with a festoon of delicate stalactites. The water contained about eighty-five per cent. of silica, with one or two per cent of iron alumina, and a little alkali.

There were no more beautiful products of nature upon the earth than those "pink and white terraces," as they were called. The hot springs of the Yellowstone have produced formations resembling them, but not their equal in fairy-like charm. One series of these terraced pools and cascades was of the purest white tint, the other of the most delicate pink, the waters topping over the edge of each pool and falling in a miniature cascade to the one next below, thus keeping the edges built up by a continual renewal of the silicious incrustation. But all their beauty could not save them from utter and irremediable destruction by the forces below the earth's surface.

On June 9, 1886, a great volcanic disturbance began in the Auckland Lake region with a tremendous earthquake, followed during the night by many others. At seven the next morning a lead-covered cloud of pumice sand, advancing from the south, burst and discharged showers of fine dust. The range of Mount Tarawera seemed to be in full volcanic activity, including some craters supposed to be extinct, and embracing an area of one hundred and twenty miles by twenty.

The showers of dust were so thick as to turn day into night for nearly two days. Some lives were lost, and several villages were destroyed, these being covered ten feet deep with ashes, dust and clayey mud. The volcanic phenomena were of the most violent character, and the whole island appears to have been more or less convulsed. Mount Tarawera is said to be five hundred feet higher than before the eruption; glowing masses were thrown up into the air, and tongues of fiery hue, gases or illuminated vapors, five hundred feet wide, towered up one thousand feet high. The mountain was 2,700 feet in height.

TARAWERA IN ERUPTION

This eruption presented a spectacle of rarely-equalled grandeur. To travelers and strangers the greatest resultant loss will be the destruction of those world-famous curiosities, the white and pink terraces, in the vicinity of Lake Rotomahana and the region of the famous geysers. The natives have a superstition that the eruption of the extinct Tarawera was caused by the profanation of foreign footsteps. It was to them a sacred place, and its crater a repository for their dead. The first earthquake occurred in this region. One side of the mountain fell in, and then the eruption began. The basin of the lake was broken up and disappeared, but again reappeared as a boiling mud cauldron; craters burst out in various places, and the beautiful terraces were no more. After the first day the violence gradually diminished, and in a week had ceased. Very possibly another lake will be formed, and in time other terraces; but it is hardly within the range of probability that the beauty of the lost terraces will ever be paralleled.

In this eruption, as usual, we find the earthquake preceding the volcanic outburst. New Zealand, like the Philippines, Java and the Japanese Islands, is situated over a great earth-fissure or line of weakness. Subsidence or dislocation from tensile strain of the crust took place, and the influx of water to new regions of heated strata may have developed the explosive force. The earthquake and the volcano worked together here, as they frequently do, unfortunately in this case destroying one of the most beautiful scenes on the surface of the globe.

THE ANTARCTIC VOLCANOES

Much further south, on the frozen shore of Victoria Land in the Antarctic regions, Sir James Ross, in 1841, sailing in his discovery ships the Erebus and Terror, discovered two great volcanic mountains, which he named after those two vessels. Mount Erebus is continually covered, from top to bottom, with snow and glaciers. The mountain is about 12,000 feet high, and although the snow reaches to the very edge of the crater, there rise continually from the summit immense volumes of volcanic fumes, illuminated by the glare of glowing lava beneath them. The vapors ascend to an estimated height of 2,200 feet above the top of the mountain.



CHAPTER XXV.

The Wonderful Hawaiian Craters and Kilauea's Lake of Fire.

In the central region of the North Pacific Ocean lies the archipelago formerly known as the Sandwich Islands, now collectively designated as Hawaii. The people of the United States should be specially interested in this island group, for it has become one of our possessions, an outlying Territory of our growing Republic, and in making it part of our national domain we have not alone extended our dominion far over the seas, but have added to the many marvels of nature within our land one of the chief wonders of the world, the stupendous Hawaiian volcanoes, before whose grandeur many of more ancient fame sink into insignificance.

THE ISLAND OF HAWAII

The Island of Hawaii, the principal island of the group, we may safely say contains the most enormous volcano of the earth. Indeed, the whole island, which is 4000 square miles in extent, may be regarded as of volcanic origin. It contains four volcanic mountains—Kohola, Hualalia, Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa. The two last named are the chief, the former being 13,800 feet, the latter 13,600 feet, above the sea-level. Although their height is so vast, the ascent to their summits is so gradual that their circumference at the base is enormous. The bulk of each of them is reckoned to be equal to two and a half times that of Etna. Some of the streams of lava which have emanated from them are twenty-six miles in length by two miles in breadth.

On the adjoining island of Maui is a still larger volcano, the mighty Haleakala, long since extinct, but memorable as possessing the most stupendous crater on the face of the earth. The mountain itself is over 10,000 feet high, and forms a great dome-like mass of 90 miles circumference at base. The crater on its summit has a length of 7 1/2 and a width of 2 1/4 miles, with a total area of about sixteen square miles. The only approach in dimensions to this enormous opening exists in the still living crater of Kilauea, on the flank of Mauna Loa.

A VOLCANIC ISLAND GROUP

The peaks named are the most apparent remnants of a world-rending volcanic activity in the remote past, by whose force this whole Hawaiian island group was lifted up from the depths of the ocean, here descending some three and a half miles below the surface level. The coral reefs which abound around the islands are of comparatively recent formation, and rest upon a substratum of lava probably ages older, which forms the base of the archipelago. The islands are volcanic peaks and ridges that have been pushed up above the surrounding seas by the profound action of the interior forces of the earth.

It must not be supposed that this action was a violent perpendicular thrust upward over a very limited locality, for the mountains continue to slope at about the same angle under the sea and for great distances on every side, so that the islands are really the crests of an extensive elevation, estimated to cover an area of about 2000 miles in one direction by 150 or 200 miles in the other. The process was probably a gradual one of up-building, by means of which the sea receded as the land steadily rose. Some idea of the mighty forces that have been at work beneath the sea and above it can be gained by considering the enormous mass of material now above the sea-level. Thus, the bulk of the island of Hawaii, the largest of the group, has been estimated by the Hawaiian Surveyor General as containing 3,600 cubic miles of lava rock above sea-level. Taking the area of England at 50,000 square miles, this mass of volcanic matter would cover that entire country to a depth of 274 feet. We must remember, however, that what is above sea-level is only a small fraction of the total amount, since it sweeps down below the waves hundreds of miles on every side.

CRATER OF HALEAKALA

Of the lava openings on these islands, the extinct one of Haleakala, as stated, with its twenty-seven miles circumference, is far the most stupendous. It is easy of access, the mountain sides leading to it presenting a gentle slope; while the walls of the crater, in places perpendicular, in others are so sloping that man and horse can descend them. The pit varies from 1500 to 2000 feet in depth, its bottom being very irregular from the old lava flows and the many cinder cones, these still looking as fresh as though their fires had just gone out. Some of these cones are over 500 feet high. There is a tradition among the natives that the vast lava streams which in the past flowed from the crater to the sea continued to do so in the period of their remote ancestors. They still, indeed, appear as if recent, though there are to-day no signs of volcanic activity anywhere on this island.

In fact, the only volcano now active in the Hawaiian Islands is Mauna Loa, in the southern section of the Island of Hawaii. A striking feature of this is that it has two distinct and widely disconnected craters, one on its summit, the other on its flank, at a much lower level. The latter is the vast crater of Kilauea, the largest active crater known on the face of the globe.

MISS BIRD IN THE CRATER OF KILAUEA

We cannot offer a better description of the aspect of this lava abyss than to give Miss Bird's eloquent description of her adventurous descent into it:

"The abyss, which really is at a height of four thousand feet on the flank of Mauna Loa, has the appearance of a pit on a rolling plain. But such a pit! It is quite nine miles in circumference, and at its lowest area—which not long ago fell about three hundred feet, just as the ice on a pond falls when the water below is withdrawn—covers six square miles. The depth of the crater varies from eight hundred to one thousand feet, according as the molten sea below is at flood or ebb. Signs of volcanic activity are present more or less throughout its whole depth and for some distance along its margin, in the form of steam-cracks, jets of sulphurous vapor, blowing cones, accumulating deposits of acicular crystals of sulphur, etc., and the pit itself is constantly rent and shaken by earthquakes. Great eruptions occur with circumstances of indescribable terror and dignity; but Kilauea does not limit its activity to these outbursts, but has exhibited its marvellous phenomena through all known time in a lake or lakes on the southern part of the crater three miles from this side.

"This lake—the Hale-mau-mau, or 'House of everlasting Fire', of the Hawaiian mythology, the abode of the dreaded goddess Pele—is approachable with safety, except during an eruption. The spectacle, however, varies almost daily; and at times the level of the lava in the pit within a pit is so low, and the suffocating gases are evolved in such enormous quantities, that travellers are unable to see anything.

"At the time of our visit there had been no news from it for a week; and as nothing was to be seen but a very faint bluish vapor hanging round its margin, the prospect was not encouraging. After more than an hour of very difficult climbing, we reached the lowest level of the crater, pretty nearly a mile across, presenting from above the appearance of a sea at rest; but on crossing it, we found it to be an expanse of waves and convolutions of ashy-colored lava, with huge cracks filled up with black iridescent rolls of lava only a few weeks old. Parts of it are very rough and ridgy, jammed together like field-ice, or compacted by rolls of lava, which may have swelled up from beneath; but the largest part of the area presents the appearance of huge coiled hawsers, the ropy formation of the lava rendering the illusion almost perfect. These are riven by deep cracks, which emit hot sulphurous vapors.

"As we ascended, the flow became hotter under our feet, as well as more porous and glistening. It was so hot that a shower of rain hissed as it fell upon it. The crust became increasingly insecure, and necessitated our walking in single file with the guide in front, to test the security of the footing. I fell through several times, and always into holes full of sulphurous steam so malignantly acid that my strong dogskin gloves were burned through as I raised myself on my hands.

"We had followed the lava-flow for thirty miles up to the crater's brink, and now we had toiled over recent lava for three hours, and, by all calculations, were close to the pit; yet there was no smoke or sign of fire, and I felt sure that the volcano had died out for once for my special disappointment.

"Suddenly, just above and in front of us, gory drops were tossed in the air, and springing forwards, we stood on the brink of Hale-mau-mau, which was about thirty-five feet below us. I think we all screamed. I know we all wept; but we were speechless, for a new glory and terror had been added to the earth. It is the most unutterable of wonderful things. The words of common speech are quite useless. It is unimaginable, indescribable; a sight to remember forever; a sight which at once took possession of every faculty of sense and soul, removing one altogether out of the range of ordinary life. Here was the real 'bottomless pit', 'the fire which is not quenched', 'the place of Hell', 'the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone', 'the everlasting burnings', 'the fiery sea whose waves are never weary'. Perhaps those Scripture phrases were suggested by the sight of some volcano in eruption. There were groanings, rumblings, and detonations; rushings, hissings, splashings, and the crashing sound of breakers on the coast; but it was the surging of fiery waves upon a fiery shore. But what can I write? Such words as jets, fountains, waves, spray, convey some idea of order and regularity, but here there are none.

"The inner lake, while we stood there, formed a sort of crater within itself; the whole lava sea rose about three feet; a blowing cone about eight feet high was formed; it was never the same two minutes together. And what we saw had no existence a month before, and probably will be changed in every essential feature a month from hence. The prominent object was fire in motion; but the surface of the double lake was continually skimming over for a second or two with a cool crust of lustrous grey-white, like frost-silver, broken by jagged cracks of a bright rose-color. The movement was nearly always from the sides to the centre; but the movement of the centre itself appeared independent, and always took a southerly direction. Before each outburst of agitation there was much hissing and throbbing, with internal roaring as of imprisoned gases. Now it seemed furious, demoniacal, as if no power on earth could bind it, then playful and sportive; then for a second languid, but only because it was accumulating fresh force. Sometimes the whole lake took the form of mighty waves, and, surging heavily against the partial barrier with a sound like the Pacific surf, lashed, tore, covered it, and threw itself over it in clots of living fire. It was all confusion, commotion, forces, terror, glory, majesty, mystery, and even beauty. And the color, 'eye hath not seen' it! Molten metal hath not that crimson gleam, nor blood that living light."

To this description we may add that of Mr. Ellis, a former missionary to these islands, and one of the number who have descended to the shores of Kilauea's abyss of fire. He says, after describing his difficult descent and progress over the lava-strewn pit:

MR. ELLIS VISITS THE LAKE OF LAVA

"Immediately before us yawned an immense gulf, in the form of a crescent, about two miles in length, from northeast to southwest; nearly a mile in width, and apparently 800 feet deep. The bottom was covered with lava, and the southwestern and northern parts of it were one vast flood of burning matter in a state of terrific ebullition, rolling to and fro its 'fiery surges' and flaming billows. Fifty-one conical islands, of varied form and size, containing as many craters, rose either round the edge or from the surface of the burning lake; twenty-two constantly emitted columns of gray smoke or pyramids of brilliant flame, and several of these at the same time vomited from their ignited mouths streams of lava, which rolled in blazing torrents down their black indented sides into the boiling mass below.

"The existence of these conical craters led us to conclude that the boiling cauldron of lava before us did not form the focus of the volcano; that this mass of melted lava was comparatively shallow, and that the basin in which it was contained was separated by a stratum of solid matter from the great volcanic abyss, which constantly poured out its melted contents through these numerous craters into this upper reservoir. The sides of the gulf before us, although composed of different strata of ancient lava, were perpendicular for about 400 feet, and rose from a wide horizontal ledge of solid black lava of irregular breadth, but extending completely round. Beneath this ledge the sides sloped gradually towards the burning lake, which was, as nearly as we could judge, 300 or 400 feet lower.

"It was evident that the large crater had been recently filled with liquid lava up to this black ledge, and had, by some subterraneous canal, emptied itself into the sea or spread under the low land on the shore. The gray and in some places apparently calcined sides of the great crater before us, the fissures which intersected the surface of the plain on which we were standing, the long banks of sulphur on the opposite side of the abyss, the vigorous action of the numerous small craters on its borders, the dense columns of vapor and smoke that rose at the north and west end of the plain, together with the ridge of steep rocks by which it was surrounded, rising probably in some places 300 or 400 feet in perpendicular height, presented an immense volcanic panorama, the effect of which was greatly augmented by the constant roaring of the vast furnaces below."

MAUNA LOA IN ERUPTION

Of the two great craters of Mauna Loa, the summit one has frequently in modern times overflowed its crest and poured its molten streams in glowing rivers over the land. This has rarely been the case with the lower and incessantly active crater of Kilauea, whose lava, when in excess, appears to escape by subterranean channels to the sea. We append descriptions of some of the more recent examples of Mauna Loa's eruptive energy. The lava from this crater does not alone flow over the crater's lip, but at times makes its way through fissures far below, the immense pressure causing it to spout in great flashing fountains high into the air. In 1852 the fiery fountains reached a height of 500 feet. In some later eruptions they have leaped 1,000 feet high. The lava is white hot as it ascends, but it assumes a blood-red tint in its fall, and strikes the ground with a frightful noise.

The quantities of lava ejected in some of the recent eruptions have been enormous. The river-like flow of 1855 was remarkable for its extent, being from two to eight miles wide, with a depth of from three to three hundred feet, and extending in a winding course for a distance of sixty miles. The Apostle of Hawaiian volcanoes, the Rev. Titus Coan, who ventured to the source of this flow while it was in supreme action, thus describes it:—

"We ascended our rugged pathway amidst steam and smoke and heat which almost blinded and scathed us. We came to open orifices down which we looked into the fiery river which rushed madly under our feet. These fiery vents were frequent, some of them measuring ten, twenty, fifty or one hundred feet in diameter. In one place we saw the river of lava uncovered for thirty rods and rushing down a declivity of from ten to twenty-five degrees. The scene was awful, the momentum incredible, the fusion perfect (white heat), and the velocity forty miles an hour. The banks on each side of the stream were red-hot, jagged and overhanging. As we viewed it rushing out from under its ebon counterpane, and in the twinkling of an eye diving again into its fiery den, it seemed to say, 'Stand off! Scan me not! I am God's messenger. A work to do. Away!'"

Later he wrote again:—"The great summit fountain is still playing with fearful energy, and the devouring stream rushes madly down toward us. It is now about ten miles distant, and heading directly for our bay. In a few days we may be called to announce the painful fact that our beauteous Hilo is no more,—that our lovely, our inimitable landscape, our emerald bowers, our crescent strand and our silver bay are blotted out. A fiery sword hangs over us. A flood of burning ruin approaches us. Devouring fires are near us. With sure and solemn progress the glowing fusion advances through the dark forest and the dense jungle in our rear, cutting down ancient trees of enormous growth and sweeping away all vegetable life. For months the great summit furnace on Mauna Loa has been in awful blast. Floods of burning destruction have swept wildly and widely over the top and down the sides of the mountain. The wrathful stream has overcome every obstacle, winding its fiery way from its high source to the bases of the everlasting hills, spreading in a molten sea over the plains, penetrating the ancient forests, driving the bellowing herds, the wild goats and the affrighted birds before its lurid glare, leaving nothing but ebon blackness and smoldering ruin in its track."

His anticipation of the burial of Hilo under the mighty flow was happily not realized. It came to an abrupt halt while seven miles distant, the checked stream standing in a threatening and rugged ridge, with rigid, beetling front.

THE ERUPTIONS OF 1859 AND 1865

In January, 1859, Mauna Loa was again at its fire-play, throwing up lava fountains from 800 to 1,000 feet in height. From this great fiery fountain the lava flowed down in numerous streams, spreading over a width of five or six miles. One stream, probably formed by the junction of several smaller, attained a height of from twenty to twenty-five feet, and a breadth of about an eighth of a mile. Great stones were thrown up along with the jet of lava, and the volume of seeming smoke, composed probably of fine volcanic dust, is said to have risen to the height of 10,000 feet.

An eruption of still greater violence took place in 1865, characterized by similar phenomena, particularly the throwing up of jets of lava. This fiery fountain continued to play without intermission for twenty days and nights, varying only as respects the height to which the jet arose, which is said to have ranged between 100 and 1,000 feet, the mean diameter of the jet being about 100 feet. This eruption was accompanied by explosions so loud as to have been heard at a distance of forty miles.

A cone of about 300 feet in height, and about a mile in circumference, was accumulated round the orifice whence the jet ascended. It was composed of solid matters ejected with the lava, and it continued to glow like a furnace, notwithstanding its exposure to the air. The current of lava on this occasion flowed to a distance of thirty-five miles, burning its way through the forests, and filling the air with smoke and flames from the ignited timber. The glare from the glowing lava and the burning trees together was discernible by night at a distance of 200 miles from the island.

THE LAVA FLOW OF 1880

A succeeding great lava flow was that which began on November 6, 1880. Mr. David Hitchcock, who was camping on Mauna Kea at the time of this outbreak, saw a spectacle that few human eyes have ever beheld. "We stood," writes he, "on the very edge of that flowing river of rock. Oh, what a sight it was! Not twenty feet from us was this immense bed of rock slowly moving forward with irresistible force, bearing on its surface huge rocks and immense boulders of tons' weight as water would carry a toy-boat. The whole front edge was one bright red mass of solid rock incessantly breaking off from the towering mass and rolling down to the foot of it, to be again covered by another avalanche of white-hot rocks and sand. The whole mass at its front edge was from twelve to thirty feet in height. Along the entire line of its advance it was one crash of rolling, sliding, tumbling red-hot rock. We could hear no explosions while we were near the flow, only a tremendous roaring like ten thousand blast furnaces all at work at once."

This was the most extensive flow of recent years, and its progress from the interior plain through the dense forests above Hilo and out on to the open levels close to the town was startling and menacing enough. Through the woods especially it was a turbulent, seething mass that hurled down mammoth trees, and licked up streams of water, and day and night kept up an unintermitting cannonade of explosions. The steam and imprisoned gases would burst the congealing surface with loud detonations that could be heard for many miles. It was not an infrequent thing for parties to camp out close to the flow over night. Ordinarily a lava-flow moves sluggishly and congeals rapidly, so that what seems like hardihood in the narrating is in reality calm judgment, for it is perfectly safe to be in the close vicinity of a lava-stream, and even to walk on its surface as soon as one would be inclined to walk on cooling iron in a foundry. This notable flow finally ceased within half a mile of Hilo, where its black form is a perpetual reminder of a marvellous deliverance from destruction.

KILAUEA IN 1840

Kilauea seems never, in historic times, to have filled and overflowed its vast crater. To do so would need an almost inconceivable volume of liquid rock material. But it approached this culmination in 1840, when it became, through its whole extent, a raging sea of fire. The boiling lava rose in the mighty mountain-cup to a height of from 500 to 600 feet. Then it forced a passage through a subterranean cavity twenty-seven miles long, and reached the sea forty miles distant, in two days. The stream where it fell into the sea was half a mile wide, and the flow kept up for three weeks, heating the ocean twenty miles from land. An eye-witness of this extraordinary flow thus describes it:

"When the torrent of fire precipitated itself into the ocean, the scene assumed a character of terrific and indescribable grandeur. The magnificence of destruction was never more perceptibly displayed than when these antagonistic elements met in deadly strife. The mightiest of earth's magazines of fire poured forth its burning billows to meet the mightiest of oceans. For two score miles it came rolling, tumbling, swelling forward, an awful agent of death. Rocks melted like wax in its path; forests crackled and blazed before its fervent heat; the works of man were to it but as a scroll in the flames. Imagine Niagara's stream, above the brink of the Falls, with its dashing, whirling, madly-raging waters hurrying on to their plunge, instantaneously converted into fire; a gory-hued river of fused minerals; volumes of hissing steam arising; some curling upward from ten thousand vents, which give utterance to as many deep-toned mutterings, and sullen, confined clamorings; gases detonating and shrieking as they burst from their hot prison-house; the heavens lurid with flame; the atmosphere dark and oppressive; the horizon murky with vapors and gleaming with the reflected contest!

"Such was the scene as the fiery cataract, leaping a precipice of fifty feet, poured its flood upon the ocean. The old line of coast, a mass of compact, indurated lava, whitened, cracked and fell. The waters recoiled, and sent forth a tempest of spray; they foamed and dashed around and over the melted rock, they boiled with the heat, and the roar of the conflicting agencies grew fiercer and louder. The reports of the exploding gases were distinctly heard twenty-five miles distant, and were likened to a whole broadside of heavy artillery. Streaks of the intensest light glanced like lightning in all directions; the outskirts of the burning lava as it fell, cooled by the shock, were shivered into millions of fragments, and scattered by the strong wind in sparkling showers far into the country. For three successive weeks the volcano disgorged an uninterrupted burning tide, with scarcely any diminution, into the ocean. On either side, for twenty miles, the sea became heated, with such rapidity that, on the second day of the junction of the lava with the ocean, fishes came ashore dead in great numbers, at a point fifteen miles distant. Six weeks later, at the base of the hills, the water continued scalding hot, and sent forth steam at every wash of the waves."

THE SINKING OF KILAUEA'S FIRE-LAKE

In 1866 the great crater of Kilauea presented a new and unlooked-for spectacle in the sinking and vanishing of its great lava lake. In March of that year the fires in the ancient cauldron totally disappeared, and the surrounding lava rock sank to a depth of nearly 600 feet. Mr. Thrum, in a pamphlet on "The Suspended Activity of Kilauea," says of it:

"Distant rumbling noises were heard, accompanied by a series of earthquakes, forty-three in number. With the fourth shock the brilliancy of New Lake disappeared, and towards 3 A. M. the fires in Halemaumau disappeared also, leaving the whole crater in darkness.

"With the dawn the shocks and noises ceased, and revealed the changes which Kilauea had undergone in the night. All the high cliffs surrounding Halemaumau and New Lake, which had become a prominent feature in the crater, had vanished entirely, and the molten lava of both lakes had disappeared by some subterranean passage from the bottom of Halemaumau. There was no material change in the sunken portion of the crater except a continual falling in of rocks and debris from its banks as the contraction from its former intense heat loosened their compactness and sent them hurling some 200 or 300 feet below, giving forth at times a boom as of distant thunder, followed by clouds of cinders and ashes shooting up into the air 100 to 300 feet, proportionate, doubtless, to the size of the newly fallen mass.

"This remarkable recession of the liquid lava in Halemaumau was probably due to the opening of some deep subterranean passage through which the lake of lava made its way unseen to the ocean's depths. The Rev. Mr. Baker, probably the most adventuresome explorer of Hawaiian volcanoes, actually descended into that crumbling pit to a point within what he judged to be fifty feet of the bottom. But Halemaumau had only taken an intermission, for in two short months signs of returning life became frequent and unmistakable, and, in June, culminated in the sudden outbreak of a lake that has since then steadily increased in activity."

THE GODDESS PELE

We cannot close this chapter without some reference to the Goddess Pele, to whom the Hawaiians long imputed the wonder-work of their volcanic mountains. When there is unusual commotion in Kilauea myriads of thread-like filaments float in the air and fall upon the cliffs, making deposits much resembling matted hair. A single filament over fifteen inches long was picked up on a Hilo veranda, having sailed in the air a distance of fifty miles. This is the famous Pele's Hair, being the glass-like product of volcanic fires. It resembles Prince Rupert's Drops, and the tradition is that whenever the volcano becomes active it is because Pele, the Goddess of the crater, emerges from her fiery furnace and shakes her vitreous locks in anger.

This fabled being, according to Emerson, in a paper on "The Lesser Hawaiian Gods," "could at times assume the appearance of a handsome young woman, as when Kamapauaa, to his cost, was smitten with her charms when first he saw her with her sisters at Kilauea." Kamapauaa was a gigantic hog, who "could appear as a handsome young man, a hog, a fish or a tree." "At other times the innate character of the fury showed itself, and Pele appeared in her usual form as an ugly and hateful old hag, with tattered and fire-burnt garments, scarcely concealing the filth and nakedness of her person. Her bloodshot eyes and fiendish countenance paralyzed the beholder, and her touch turned him to stone. She was a jealous and vindictive monster, delighting in cruelty, and at the slightest provocation overwhelming the unoffending victims of her rage in widespread ruin."

The superstition regarding the Goddess Pele was thought to have received a death blow in 1825, when Kapiolani, an Hawaiian princess and a Christian convert, ascended, with numerous attendants, to the crater of Kilauea, where she publicly defied the power and wrath of the goddess. No response came to her defiance, she descended in safety, and faith in Pele's power was widely shaken.

Yet as late as 1887 the old superstition revived and claimed an exalted victim, for in that year the Princess Like Like, the youngest sister of the king, starved herself to death to appease the anger of the Goddess Pele, supposed to be manifested in Mauna Loa's eruption of that year, and to be quieted only by the sacrifice of a victim of royal blood. Thus slowly do the old superstitions die away.



CHAPTER XXVI.

Popocatapetl and Other Volcanoes of Mexico and Central America.

Mexico is very largely a vast table-land, rising through much of its extent to an elevation of from 7,000 to 8,000 feet above sea-level, and bounded east and west by wide strips of torrid lowlands adjoining the oceans. It is crossed at about 19 degrees north latitude by a range of volcanic mountains, running in almost a straight line east and west, upon which are several extinct volcanic cones, and five active or quiescent volcanoes. The highest of these is Popocatapetl, south of the city of Mexico and nearly midway between the Atlantic and Pacific.

East of this mountain lies Orizabo, little below it in height, and San Martin or Tuxtla, 9,700 feet high, on the coast south of Vera Cruz. West of it is Jorullo, 4,000 feet, and Colima, 12,800, near the Pacific coast. The volcanic energy continues southward toward the Isthmus, but decreases north of this volcanic range. These mountains have shown little signs of activity in recent times. Popocatapetl emits smoke, but there is no record of an eruption since 1540. Orizabo has been quiet since 1566. Tuxtla had a violent eruption in 1793, but since then has remained quiescent. Colima is the only one now active. For ten years past it has been emitting ashes and smoke. The most remarkable of these volcanoes is Jorullo, which closely resembled Monte Nuovo, described in Chapter XIII., in its mode of origin.

Popocatapetl, the hill that smokes, in the Mexican language, the huge mountain clothed in eternal snows, and regarded by the idolaters of old as a god, towers up nearly 18,000 feet above the level of the sea, and in the days of the conquest of Mexico was a volcano in a state of fierce activity. It was looked upon by the natives with a strange dread, and they told the white strangers with awe that no man could attempt to ascend its slopes and yet live; but, from a feeling of vanity, or the love of adventure, the Spaniards laughed at these fears, and accordingly a party of ten of the followers of Cortes commenced the ascent, accompanied by a few Indians. But these latter, after ascending about 13,000 feet to where the last remains of stunted vegetation existed, became alarmed at the subterranean bellowings of the volcano, and returned, while the Spaniards still painfully toiled on through the rarefied atmosphere, their feet crushing over the scoriae and black-glazed volcanic sand, until they stood in the region of perpetual snow, amidst the glittering, treacherous glaciers and crevasses, with vast slippery-pathed precipices yawning round.

Still they toiled on in this wild and wondrous region. A few hours before they were in a land of perpetual summer; here all was snow. They suffered the usual distress awarded to those who dare to ascend to these solitudes of nature but it was not given to them to achieve the summit, for suddenly, at a higher elevation, after listening to various ominous threatenings from the interior of the volcano, they encountered so fierce a storm of smoke, cinders, and sparks, that they were driven back half suffocated to the lower portions of the mountain.

Some time after another attempt was made; and upon this occasion with a definite object. The invaders had nearly exhausted their stock of gunpowder, and Cortes organized a party to ascend to the crater of the volcano, to seek and bring down sulphur for the manufacture of this necessary of warfare. This time the party numbered but five, led by one Francisco Montano; and they experienced no very great difficulty in winning their way upwards. The region of verdure gave place to the wild, lava-strewn slope, which was succeeded in its turn by the treacherous glaciers; and at last the gallant little band stood at the very edge of the crater, a vast depression of over a league in circumference, and 1,000 feet in depth.

SULPHUR FROM THE CRATER

Flame was issuing from the hideous abysses, and the stoutest man's heart must have quailed as he peered down into the dim, mysterious cavity to where the sloping sides were crusted with bright yellow sulphur, and listened to the mutterings which warned him of the pent-up wrath and power of the mighty volcano. They knew that at any moment flame and stifling sulphurous vapor might be belched forth, but now no cowardice was shown. They had come provided with ropes and baskets, and it only remained to see who should descend. Lots were therefore drawn, and it fell to Montano, who was accordingly lowered by his followers in a basket 400 feet into the treacherous region of eternal fires.

The basket swayed and the rope quivered and vibrated, but the brave cavalier sturdily held to his task, disdaining to show fear before his humble companions. The lurid light from beneath flashed upon his tanned features, and a sulphurous steam rose slowly and condensed upon the sides; but, whatever were his thoughts, the Spaniard collected as much sulphur as he could take up with him, breaking off the bright incrustations, and even dallying with his task as if in contempt of the danger, till he had leisurely filed his basket, when the signal was given and he was drawn up. The basket was emptied, and then he once more descended into the lurid crater, collected another store and was again drawn up; but far from shrinking from his task, he descended again several times, till a sufficiency had been obtained, with which the party descended to the plain.

THE VOLCANO JORULLO

No further back than the middle of the eighteenth century the site of Jorullo was a level plain, including several highly-cultivated fields, which formed the farm of Don Pedro di Jorullo. The plain was watered by two small rivers, called Cuitimba and San Pedro, and was bounded by mountains composed of basalt—the only indications of former volcanic action. These fields were well irrigated, and among the most fertile in the country, producing abundant crops of sugar-cane and indigo.

In the month of June, 1759, the cultivators of the farm began to be disturbed by strange subterranean noises of an alarming kind, accompanied by frequent shocks of earthquake, which continued for nearly a couple of months; but they afterward entirely ceased, so that the inhabitants of the place were lulled into security. On the night between the 28th and 29th of September, however, the subterranean noises were renewed with greater loudness than before, and the ground shook severely. The Indian servants living on the place started from their beds in terror, and fled to the neighboring mountains. Thence gazing upon their master's farm they beheld it, along with a tract of ground measuring between three and four square miles, in the midst of which it stood, rise up bodily, as if it had been inflated from beneath like a bladder. At the edges this tract was uplifted only about 39 feet above the original surface, but so great was its convexity that toward the middle it attained a height of no less than 524 feet.

The Indians who beheld this strange phenomenon declared that they saw flames issuing from several parts of this elevated tract, that the entire surface became agitated like a stormy sea, that great clouds of ashes, illuminated by volcanic fires glowing beneath them, rose at several points, and that white-hot stones were thrown to an immense height. Vast chasms were at the same time opened in the ground, and into these the two small rivers above mentioned plunged. Their waters, instead of extinguishing the subterranean conflagration, seemed only to add to its intensity. Quantities of mud, enveloping balls of basalt, were then thrown up, and the surface of the elevated ground became studded with small cones, from which volumes of dense vapor, chiefly steam, were emitted, some of the jets rising from 20 to 30 feet in height.

These cones the Indians called ovens, and in many of them was long heard a subterranean noise resembling that of water briskly boiling. Out of a great chasm in the midst of those ovens there were thrown up six larger elevations, the highest being 1,640 feet above the level of the plain, 4,315 above sea level, and now constituting the principal volcano of Jorullo. The smallest of the six was 300 feet in height; the others of intermediate elevation. The highest of these hills had on its summit a regular volcanic crater, whence there have been thrown up great quantities of dross and lava, containing fragments of older rocks. The ashes were transported to immense distances, some of them having fallen on the houses at Queretaro, more than forty-eight leagues from Jorullo. The volcano continued in this energetic state of activity for about four months; in the following years its eruptions became less frequent, but it still continues to emit volumes of vapor from the principal crater, as well as from many of the ovens in the upheaved ground.

EFFECT ON THE RIVERS

The two rivers, which disappeared on the first night of this great eruption, now pursue an underground course for about a mile and a quarter, and then reappear as hot springs, with a temperature of 126 degrees F.

This wonderful volcanic upheaval is all the more remarkable, from the inland situation of the plain on which it occurred, it being no less than 120 miles distant from the nearest ocean, while there is no other volcano nearer to it than 80 miles. The activity of the ovens has now ceased, and portions of the upheaved plain on which they are situated have again been brought under cultivation, and the volcano is in a state of quiescence.

The crater of Popocatapetl, which towers to a height of 17,000 feet, is a vast circular basin, whose nearly vertical walls are in some parts of a pale rose tint, in others quite black. The bottom contains several small fuming cones, whence arise vapors of changeable color, being successively red, yellow and white. All round them are large deposits of sulphur, which are worked for mercantile purposes.

Orizaba has a little less lofty snow-clad peak. This mountain was in brisk volcanic activity from 1545 to 1560, but has since then relapsed into a prolonged repose. It was climbed, in 1856, by Baron Muller, to whose mind the crater appeared like the entrance to a lower world of horrible darkness. He was struck with astonishment on contemplating the tremendous forces required to elevate and rend such enormous masses—to melt them, and then pile them up like towers, until by cooling they became consolidated into their present forms. The internal walls of the crater are in many places coated with sulphur, and at the bottom are several small volcanic craters. At the time of his visit the summit was wholly covered with snow, but the Indians affirmed that hot vapors occasionally ascend from fissures in the rocks. Since then others have reached its summit, among them Angelo Heilprin, the first to gaze into the crater of Mont Pelee after its eruption.

ERUPTIONS IN NICARAGUA

On the 14th of November, 1867, there commenced an eruption from a mountain about eight leagues to the eastward of the city of Leon, in Nicaragua. This mountain does not appear to have been previously recognized as an active volcano, but it is situated in a very volcanic country. The outburst had probably some connection with the earthquake at St. Thomas, which took place on the 18th of November following. The mountain continued in a state of activity for about sixteen days. There was thrown out an immense quantity of black sand, which was carried as far as to the coast of the Pacific, fifty miles distant. Glowing stones were projected from the crater to an estimated height of three thousand feet.

Central America is more prolific of volcanoes than Mexico, and the State of Guatemala in particular. One authority credits this State with fifteen or sixteen and another with more than thirty volcanic cones. Of these at least five are decidedly active. Tajumalco, which was in eruption at the time of the great earthquake of 1863, yields great quantities of sulphur, as also does Quesaltenango. The most famous is the Volcan de Agua (Water Volcano), so called from its overwhelming the old city of Guatemala with a torrent of water in 1541.

Nicaragua is also rich in volcanoes, being traversed its entire length by a remarkable chain of isolated volcanic cones, several of which are to some extent active. We have already told the story of the tremendous eruption of Coseguina in 1835, one of the most violent of modern times. The latest important eruption here was that of Ometepec, a volcanic mount on an island of the same name in Lake Nicaragua. This broke a long period of repose on June 19, 1883, with a severe eruption, in which the lava, pouring from a new crater, in seven days overflowed the whole island and drove off its population. Incessant rumblings and earthquake shocks accompanied the eruption, and mud, ashes, stones and lava covered the mountain slopes, which had been cultivated for many centuries. These were the most recent strong displays of volcanic energy in Central America, though former great outflows of lava are indicated by great fields of barren rock, which extend for miles.



CHAPTER XXVII.

The Terrible Eruption of Krakatoa.

The most destructive volcanic explosion of recent times, one perhaps unequalled in violence in all times, was that of the small mountain island of Krakatoa, in the East Indian Archipelago, in 1883. This made its effects felt round the entire globe, and excited such wide attention that we feel called upon to give it a chapter of its own.

The island of Krakatoa lies in the Straits of Sunda, between Java and Sumatra. In size it is insignificant, and had been silent so long that its volcanic character was almost lost sight of. Of its early history we know nothing. At some remote time in the past it may have appeared as a large cone, of some twenty-five miles in circumference at base and not less than 10,000 feet high. Then, still in unknown times, its cone was blown away by internal forces, leaving only a shattered and irregular crater ring. This crater was two or three miles in diameter, while the highest part of its walls rose only a few hundred feet above the sea. Later volcanic work built up a number of small cones within the crater, and still later a new cone, called Rakata, rose on the edge of the old one to a height of 2,623 feet.

The first known event in the history of the island volcano was an eruption in the year 1680. After that it lay in repose, forming a group of islands, one much larger than the others. Some of the smaller islands indicated the rim of the old crater, much of which was buried under the sea. Its state of quiescence continued for two centuries, a tropical vegetation richly mantled the island, and to all appearance it had sunk permanently to rest.

Indications of a coming change appeared in 1880, in the form of earthquakes, which shook all the region around. These continued at intervals for more that two years. Then, on May 20, 1883, there were heard at Batavia, a hundred miles away, "booming sounds like the firing of artillery." Next day the captain of a vessel passing through the Straits saw that Krakatoa was in eruption, sending up clouds of smoke and showers of dust and pumice. The smoke was estimated to reach a height of seven miles, while the volcanic dust drifted to localities 300 miles away.

AWFUL PREMONITIONS

The mountain continued to play for about fourteen weeks with varying activity, several parties meanwhile visiting it and making observations. Such an eruption, in ordinary cases, would have ultimately died away, with no marked change other than perhaps the ejection of a stream of lava. But such was not now the case. The sequel was at once unexpected and terrible. As the island was uninhabited, no one actually saw what took place, those nearest to the scene of the eruption having enough to do to save their own lives, while the dense clouds of vapor and dust baffled observation.

The phase of greatest violence set in on Sunday, August 26th. Soon after midday sailors on passing ships saw that the island had vanished behind a dense cloud of black vapor, the height of which was estimated at not less than seventeen miles. At intervals frightful detonations resounded, and after a time a rain of pumice began to fall at places ten miles distant. For miles round fierce flashes of lightning rent the vapor, and at a distance of fully forty miles ghostly corposants gleamed on the rigging of a vessel.

These phenomena grew more and more alarming until August 27th, when four explosions of fearful intensity shook earth and sea and air, the third being "far the most violent and productive of the most widespread results." It was, in fact, perhaps the most tremendous volcanic outburst, in its intensity, known in human history. It seemed to overcome the obstruction to the energy of the internal forces, for the eruption now declined, and in a day or two practically died away, though one or two comparatively insignificant outbursts took place later.

FAR-REACHING DESTRUCTION

The eruption spread ruin and death over many surrounding leagues. At Krakotoa itself, when men once more reached its shores, everything was found to be changed. About two-thirds of the main island were blown completely away. The marginal cone was cut nearly in half vertically, the new cliff falling precipitously toward the centre of the crater. Where land had been before now sea existed, in some places more than one hundred feet deep. But the part of the island that remained had been somewhat increased in size by ejected materials.