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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