TIME AND CHANGE 



writhing dragons, with horrid, gaping mouths and 

 vicious claws. The lava crunched beneath the 

 horses feet like shelly and brittle ice. At one point 

 we passed over a wide, jagged crack on a bridge. 

 As we neared the crater, the rocks grew warm, and 

 sulphur and other fumes streaked the air. 



When a half-mile from the crater we dismounted, 

 and, leaving our horses in charge of the guide, pro 

 ceeded on foot over the cracked and heated lava 

 rocks toward the brink of this veritable devil s 

 caldron. The sulphur fumes are so suffocating that 

 it can be approached only on the windward side. 

 The first glance into that fearful pit is all that your 

 imagination can picture it. You look upon the tra 

 ditional lake of brimstone and fire, and if devils 

 were to appear skipping about over the surface with 

 pitchforks, turning their victims as the cook turns 

 her frying crullers in the sputtering fat, it would 

 not much astonish you. This liquid is rather thick 

 and viscid, but it is boiling furiously. Great masses 

 of it are thrown up forty or fifty feet, and fall with 

 a crash like that of the surf upon the shore. Livid 

 jets are thrown up many feet high against the sides 

 and drip back, cooling quickly as the lava descends. 

 We sat or stood upon the brink, at times almost let 

 ting our feet hang over the sides, and shielding our 

 faces from the intense heat with paper masks and 

 veils. It is probably the only place in the world 

 where you can come face to face with the heart of 

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