ones, and vents, and safety-valves--from Perboewatan
southward, except the peak of Rakata--let the sea rush in upon its
infernal fires. This result, ordinary people think, produced a gush of
steam which caused the grand terminal explosions. Vulcanologists think
otherwise, and with reason--which is more than can be said of ordinary
people, who little know the power of the forces at work below the crust
of our earth! The steam thus produced, although on so stupendous a
scale, was free to expand and therefore went upwards, no doubt in a
sufficiently effective gust and cloud. But nothing worthy of being named
a blow-up was there.

The effect of the in-rushing water was to cool the upper surface of the
boiling lava and convert it into a thick hard solid crust at the mouth
of the great vent. In this condition the volcano resembled a boiler with
all points of egress closed and the safety-valve shut down! Oceans of
molten lava creating expansive gases below; no outlet possible
underneath, and the neck of the bottle corked with tons of solid rock!
One of two things must happen in such circumstances: the cork must go or
the bottle must burst! Both events happened on that terrible night. All
night long the corks were going, and at last--Krakatoa burst!

In the hurly-burly of confusion, smoke, and noise, no eye could note
the precise moment when the island was shattered, but there were on the
morning of the 27th four supreme explosions, which rang loud and high
above the horrible average din. These occurred--according to the careful
investigations made, at the instance of the Dutch Indian Government, by
the eminent geologist, Mr. R.D.M. Verbeek--at the hours of 5.30, 6.44,
10.2, and 10.52 in the morning. Of these the third, about 10, was by far
the worst for violence and for the wide-spread devastation which it
produced.

At each of these explosions a tremendous sea-wave was created by the
volcano, which swept like a watery ring from Krakatoa as a centre to the
surrounding shores. It was at the second of these explosions--that of
6.44--that the fall of the mighty cliff took place which was seen by the
hermit and his friends as they fled from the island, and, on the crest
of the resulting wave, were carried along they scarce knew whither.

As the previous wave--that of 5.30--had given the brig a tremendous
heave upwards, the captain, on hearing the second, ran down below for a
moment to tell Kathleen there would soon be another w