166 KAMSGHATKA. [chap. 



last rays of the sun and flushed a pale pink, while at the lip of the 

 crater a fleecy puff' of smoke hovered for an instant as if in doubt, 

 and then floated out a long thin streamer to the east. Around his 

 shoulders hung a thick belt of cloud, gathering rapidly with the 

 fast-approaching night, and beneath, slope after slope rose steadily 

 up to meet the pyramid above. Kojerevska showed here and there 

 a patch of glistening snow through rifts in the dense veil that hid 

 him from our sight, and on the lake-like surface of the river below 

 our little fleet of boats paddled merrily homewards to the rough 

 and mournful cadences of a Kamschatkan love-song. Suddenly 

 the flame of the first salute shot out from the other raft, the signal 

 for a general fusillade. It was answered by a flash and a report 

 from the tillage ; and a little later we stepped ashore at Kluchi, 

 and were welcomed heartily by the head-man and a little crowd of 

 the inhabitants. 



The morning of September 13th broke with hardly a cloud; 

 and the view of the mountains, which now lay nearly due south 

 of us, was so magnificent that I did not hesitate to devote one of 

 my last plates to it. We crossed the river in a dug-out, and 

 landed on a sand-bank near the ojjposite side. The stream is here 

 six hundred yards in breadth, and forms a fitting foreground to the 

 picture. Behind the village, whose weather-worn huts line the 

 banks for nearly a quarter of a mile, — for Kluchi may be regarded 

 almost as a city in this part of the world, — the. even slopes of 

 ruddy vegetation rise smoothly upwards, till, at the height of two 

 or three thousand feet, the snow is reached. The outline of the 

 mighty volcano was as perfect here as before, and its exquisitely 

 graceful slope as unbroken. N"ear the summit, on the side immedi- 

 ately facing us, a deep furrow, as yet untouched by the rays of the 

 morning sun, showed the remains of some past eruption — a huge 

 scar which the snows of many winters had done their best to 

 obliterate. From the crater light puffs of smoke drifted slowly 

 away to the east, far whiter than the snow which lay below, for on 

 all sides, and especially near the summit, a sprinkling of ashes had 



