A CAMP IN A CRATER. 



I 9 I 



The whole shore of the lake at the bottom of the 

 crater is incrusted with sulphur, a gray and yellow 

 rim lining the base of the cliffs that dip down, no 

 one knows how deep, into the water of the basin. 

 Around the shore are little caves, grottoes, and black 

 openings to the many ravines that seam the side of 

 the bowl. A little islet is formed on the eastern side 

 — the "new-crater" side — by a detached rock, or 

 water-worn pinnacle from a submerged rocky base. 

 In some of the ravines are scattered tree-ferns, stunted, 

 to be sure, yet possessing grace and beauty that the 

 fern, especially the tree-fern, never loses. 



But how shall I describe that sheet of water 

 slumbering in the bowels of the crater? It lies in the 

 bottom of the bowl at least twelve hundred feet be- 

 neath the brim, serene, unmoved, a lake beneath the 

 power of the elements to ruffle. Clouds of mist sail 

 over it, and are blown into the crater from the east- 

 ward, but the fiercest gusts, and they are strong and 

 frequent, cannot disturb that silent lake reposing 

 in its bosom. Its hue is almost indescribable : pearl- 

 green, creamy in hue yet with a decided greenish 

 tint, opalescent with a tinge of the faintest aqua 

 marine. Against gray cliffs, dark gorges and green 

 moss, as it lies with its circling rim of golden sul- 

 phur, it resembles a huge opal in setting of gold and 

 emerald. 



In the apex of the southern hill bordering the crater, 

 some one, long ago, hollowed out a place for shelter. 

 It is only about ten feet across and in depth, and it is 

 open on the northern side overlooking the lake, and, 

 excepting a slight hollow, at the top, also ; but it gives 

 shelter from the keen, mist-laden winds of the Atlan- 



