s
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
cl