342 CAMPS IN THE CARIBBEES. 
snorts, like those of a high-pressure steamer, and vol- 
umes of vapor blown in our faces. Following this, I 
found an aperture in a mound of stones, sulphur-lined, 
only a few inches in diameter, through which was 
forced a column of steam with noises so loud that we 
could not hear each other speak. This aperture is in 
the center of a desolate area, having on its borders 
numerous openings, whence issue blasts of hot air 
that taint the atmosphere for many feet around. I 
peered into one, arched like an oven, and it was like 
a glimpse into the arcana of nature, — into the min- 
jature palace of a géxze, — for the whole interior was 
encrusted with sulphur crystals glistening like yellow 
topaz; and a small black passage led down into un- 
known depths, whence issued rumblings, groans, and 
grumblings. Up from this black throat came such 
blasts of old Vulcan’s fetid breath, that I was glad to 
‘escape with only a few crumbling crystals for my 
pains. Ravines seam the sides of the cone in every 
direction, some spanned by natural bridges of rock ; 
but that to which I constantly recrfrred was that cen- 
tral gorge, with its wicked-looking throat, from which 
there have been two eruptions recorded—one in 1797, 
the other in 1815. Doubtless it will again, at some 
future time, act as the vent for the internal ebullitions 
of mother earth. 
According to Humboldt, the summit is over five 
thousand feet above the sea, and the view afforded 
me, as an occasional rift occurred in the masses of 
mist, was grand beyond description. Climbing to an 
elevated rock, I obtained shelter from the terrific gale 
that nearly swept me off my feet, and awaited a break 
in the cloud of mist. It came: I looked upon a scene 
