156 Report of a Journey Around the World. 



Falstaff and his bit of bread in an ocean of wine, and wondered 

 whether my kind host of the Papandajan had recognized in my 

 rather glum personality any trace of the jolly old knight. 



After this temperate repast ( I opened only one bottle of 

 "American Mineral Water", and carried the rest back to the hotel 

 where Mr. Wilson and I enjoyed the ale at dinner that night) both 

 my wind and my locomotive powers were so much improved that 

 I gaily followed the little guide to the steam blowhole, whose noise 

 I had heard for a mile or more, and to the very pretty sulphur 

 cones. We were 2600 m. above the sea, and had entered the crater 

 through the rent left by the only known great eruption of August 

 12, 1772, when forty villages were destroyed and 3000 people lost 

 their lives. The walls before and on either side 270 m. high, from 

 which descends the little stream that flows, almost boiling, through 

 the crater. The crust we went over was the usual solfataric crust 

 of decomposing lava, the latter not in the least like the basalt of 

 the Hawaiian volcanoes, but showing every shade of light gray, 

 and even purples, and red ochre. We crossed the very respectable 

 stream of hot water running over pebbles covered with a dark green 

 algae, by a bridge whose timbers showed the decomposing action 

 of the sulphur fumes. Here and there were little spluttering pools 

 of mud or clear water, and these were scattered over a consider- 

 able area. The quantity of steam was great, and at the principal 

 vent issued with a force apparently equal to the blow-off of a large 

 ocean steamer; the pressure at the holes in the sulphur bank was 

 much less. As we turned to go back the steam jet also veered, 

 and we had to wait a minute for it to turn again, and then hastened 

 on out of its path, for I knew the treacherous way of these natural 

 steam jets in volcanic regions. The walls of the crater seemed to 

 be indurated ash, and huge fragments of a more homogeneous 

 trachytic rock were scattered about, not bombs, but real fragments, 

 such as we saw frequently in the rice fields a long way from any 

 vent. A few specimens gathered, and I retraced my steps, a much 

 more difficult work than the ascent, and before I regained my little 

 paard I passed half a dozen native women and later some men go- 

 ing into the crater. It was pleasant to mount again and turn down 

 the mountain path. Many more beauties of the vegetation opened 

 upon me with the strengthening sun. Flowers had opened and 



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