268 



HA WAIL 



[letter XXIX. 



kettle, and my dismay was softened by remembering that as 

 water boils up there at 192°, our tea would have been worth- 

 less. In spite of my objection to stimulants, and in defiance 

 of the law against giving liquor to natives, I made a great tin 

 of brandy toddy, of which all partook, along with tinned salmon 

 and dough-nuts. Then the men piled faggots on the fire and 

 began their everlasting chatter, and Mr. Green and I, huddled 

 up in blankets, sat on the outer ledge in solemn silence, to 

 devote ourselves to the volcano. 



The sun was just setting: the tooth-like peaks of Mauna 

 Kea, cold and snow slashed, which were blushing red, the next 

 minute turned ghastly against a chilly sky, and with the dis- 

 appearance of the sun it became severely cold ; yet we were 

 able to remain there till 9.30, the first people to whom such a 

 tiling has been possible, so supremely favoured were we by the 

 absence of wind. 



When the sun had set, and the brief, red glow of the tropics 

 had vanished, a new world came into being, and wonder after 

 wonder flashed forth from the previously lifeless crater. Every- 

 where through its vast expanse appeared glints of fire — fires 

 bright and_ steady, burning in rows like blast furnaces ; fires 

 lone and isolated, unwinking like planets, or twinkling like 

 stars ; rows of little fires marking the margin of the lowest 

 level of the crater ; fire molten in deep crevasses ; fire in wavy 

 lines ; fire, calm, stationary, and restful : an incandescent lake 

 two miles in length beneath a deceptive crust of darkness, and 

 Avhose depth one dare not fathom even in thought. Broad in 

 the glare, giving light enough to read by at a distance of three- 

 quarters of a mile, making the moon look as blue as an ordi- 

 nary English sky, its golden gleam changed to a vivid rose 

 colour, lighting up the whole of the vast precipices of that 

 part of the crater with a rosy red, bringing out every detail 

 here, throwing cliffs and heights into huge, black masses there, 

 rising, falling, never intermitting, leaping in lofty jets with 

 glorious shapes like wheatsheaves, coruscating, reddening, the 

 most glorious thing beneath the moon was the fire-fountain of 

 Mokuaweoweo. 



By day the cooled crust of the lake had looked black and 

 even sooty, with a fountain of molten gold playing upwards 

 from it ; by night it was all incandescent, with black blotches 

 of cooled scum upon it, which were perpetually being devoured. 

 The centre of the lake was at a white heat, and waves of white 

 hot lava appeared to be wallowing there as in a whirlpool, and 



