great breaths of clear, sweet air.

After a short, steep climb, I reached the ridge, sharp as a knife,
that joins the two craters, and following it, I suddenly found myself
on the brink of the crater, from which I could overlook the great bowl,
800 metres wide. The inside walls fell vertically to the bottom, an
uncanny, spongy-looking mass of brownish lava, torn, and foaming,
and smoking in white or yellowish clouds. The opposite side rose
much higher, and the white cloud I had seen from below floated on
top. There was a smaller crater, the real opening, and through a gap
in it I had a glimpse inside, but failed to see much because of the
smoke. The general view was most imposing, the steep, naked walls,
the wild confusion in the crater, the red and yellow precipitates
here and there, the vicious-looking smoke from the slits, the steam
that floated over the opening, swayed mysteriously by an invisible
force, the compactness of the whole picture, in the gigantic frame
of the outer walls. There was no need of the oppressive odour,
the dull roaring and thundering and hissing, to call up a degree of
reverent admiration, even fear, and it required an effort of will
to stay and grow used to the tremendous sight. The first sensation
on seeing the crater is certainly terror, then curiosity awakens,
and one looks and wonders; yet the sight never becomes familiar, and
never loses its threatening aspect. Still, the inner crater may be
a disappointment. From a distance, we see the great manifestations,
the volcano in action, when its giant forces are in play and it looks
grand and monumental. From near by, we see it in repose, and the crater
looks quite insignificant. Instead of the fire we expected to see,
we find lava blocks and ashes, and instead of the clash of elemental
forces, we see a dark mass, that glows dully. We can hardly believe
that here is the origin of the explosions that shake the island,
and are inclined to consider the demon of the volcano rather as a
mischievous clown than a thundering, furious giant.

I went to the slope of the eastern crater to find a spot from which I
might be able to photograph an eruption, and returned to camp just as
the sun sank down in red fire, and the evening mists formed a white
belt around the two black mountains. The tops of the craters shone
red against a cool evening sky.

Suddenly an immense cloud shot up, white and sky-high. One side of it
shone orange in the last sunbeams,