ed the peak of Rakata, so that when
standing on the ledge they faced northward and were thus in full view of
all the craters between them and Perboewatan. These were in full blast
at the time, and, being so near, the heat, as well as the dust, molten
lava, and other missiles, instantly drove them back under the protection
of the passage from which they had emerged.

Here they found a small aperture which appeared to have been recently
formed--probably by a blow from a mass of falling rock--through which
they were able to obtain a glimpse of the pandemonium that lay seething
below them. They could not see much, however, owing to the smoke which
filled the air. The noise of the almost continuous explosions was so
loud, that it was impossible to converse save by placing the mouth to
the ear and shouting. Fortunately soon after their ascent the wind
shifted and blew smoke, fire, and dust away to the northward, enabling
them to get out on the ledge, where for a time they remained in
comparative safety.

"Look! look at your mirrors!" exclaimed Nigel suddenly, as his wandering
gaze happened to turn to the hermit's sun-guides.

And he might well exclaim, for not only was the glass of these ingenious
machines shivered and melted, but their iron frameworks were twisted up
into fantastic shapes.

"Lightning has been at work here," said Van der Kemp.

It did not at the moment occur to either of them that the position on
which they stood was peculiarly liable to attack by the subtle and
dangerous fluid which was darting and zigzagging everywhere among the
rolling clouds of smoke and steam.

A louder report than usual here drew their attention again to the
tremendous scene that was going on in front of them. The extreme summit
of Perboewatan had been blown into a thousand fragments, which were
hurtling upwards and crackling loudly as the smaller masses were
impelled against each other in their skyward progress. This crackling
has been described by those who heard it from neighbouring shores as a
"strange rustling sound." To our hermit and his friend, who were, so to
speak, in the very midst of it, the sound rather resembled the
continuous musketry of a battle-field, while the louder explosions might
be compared to the booming of artillery, though they necessarily lose by
the comparison, for no invention of man ever produced sounds equal to
those which thundered at that time from the womb of Krakatoa.

Immediately after