the night looked brilliant but rather
terrible. The full moon made it as light as day, and illuminated the
fountains of spray blown from the waves by which we were surrounded.
Without her heavy jibboom, and with her canvas well reefed down, the
'Sunbeam' rode through it all, dipping her head into the sea,
shivering from stem to stern, and then giving herself a shake,
preparatory to a fresh start, just like a playful water-bird emerging
from a prolonged dive.

At midnight a tremendous sea struck her, and for a minute you could
not see the yacht at all, as she was completely enveloped in spray and
foam. Tom said it was just like being behind the falls of Niagara,
with the water coming over you from every quarter at once. It was only
loose stuff, however, for not a green sea did she take on board the
whole night through. Our old engineer, who has been with us so long,
made up his mind that we had struck on a rock, and woke up all the
servants and told them to go on deck. I never felt anything like it
before, and the shock sent half of us out of our beds.

_Monday, January 29th_.--At four o'clock I was called to go on deck to
see the burning mountain. The wind was still blowing hard, but we were
among the islands, and in comparatively smooth water. The full moon
still rode high in the heavens, her light being reflected in rainbow
hues from the spray and foam that drifted along the surface of the
water. On every side were islands and rocks, among which the sea
boiled, and seethed, and swirled, while the roaring breakers dashed
against the higher cliffs, casting great columns of spray into the
air, and falling back in heavy rollers and surf. Just before us rose
the island of Vries, with its cone-shaped volcano, 2,600 feet high,
emitting volumes of smoke and flame. It was overhung by a cloud of
white vapour, on the under side of which shone the lurid glare of the
fires of the crater. Sometimes this cloud simply floated over the top
of the mountain, from which it was quite detached; then there would be
a fresh eruption; and after a few moments' quiet, great tongues of
flame would shoot up and pierce through the overhanging cloud to the
heavens above, while the molten lava rose like a fountain for a short
distance, and then ran down the sides of the mountain. It was
wondrously beautiful; and, as a defence against the intense cold, we
wrapped ourselves in furs, and stayed on deck watching the scene,
until the sun rose glorious