422 
FOREST AND STREAM 
[May 30, 1903. 
Climbing a Burning Mountain. 
(The interesting facts and experiences recorded under the above 
caption were taken from the letters and Consular reports of the 
late Major Albert Woodcock, and were indicted by him in the 
month of May, 1886, at the United States Consulate, Catania, 
Italy.) 
Sicily is one of the insular possessions of Italy. 
Catania, a beautiful city of 105,000 inhabitants, is a 
thriving seaport town of the island. It is situated at 
the foot of Mt. yEtna on the seashore. It has several 
very fine streets. One is named "Via Lincoln," for our 
loved and lamented President. These streets are paved 
with lava, and are as smooth as a parlor floor. The 
houses are built of lava. The walls are veneered with 
white limestone or marble. The lava of the past cen- 
turies is like granite, and is susceptible of a fine polish. 
Catania has over 100 churches and some 80 old con- 
vents. It is a quaint old town. It was founded 729 
years before Christ. The old town is buried in lava. 
The present city rests upon it. The old Greek theater 
has been partially excavated, also the amphitheater. 
The latter was capable of seating 2,500 people. The 
city has a beautiful park called Villa Bellini. It is a 
lovely gem. In it flourish tropical plants and trees 
and the choicest of flowers bloom there the entire 
year. 
The climate is admirable. The summers are no hot- 
ter than those of Illinois. The heat, however, is long 
and continued, without rain, and the sun is intensely 
glaring. Such continuous heat, with but little mois- 
ture in the air, is debilitating. Most of the Sicilians 
take an afternoon sleep of two or three hours. The 
winters are very mild, frost is seldom known, "the 
beautiful snow" never visits us, but we can always see 
it glimmering in the sunlight upon Mt. ^tna. The 
Catanese never have fires in winter. I find an occa- 
sional fire necessary for comfort. 
During the past centuries Catania has several times 
been shaken to the ground bj' earthquakes. It has been 
scalded and scarred by lava streams. In fact, as stated 
above, the old town is buried in lava. Mt. ^'Etna is 
the prominent feature of the landscape. It rises grad- 
ually from the sea, piercing the sky with its cone to a 
height of over two miles. 
On the 17th of this month we had an earthquake 
shock. yEtna commenced to growl and roar in the 
distance like some infuriated monster. Occasionally 
sharp peals, as of distant thunder or the discharge of 
artillery, were heard, great, black clouds of smoke from 
the main crater were seen shooting upward thousands 
of feet in the heavens, soon great volumes of flame 
burst forth from the side of the volcano at the alti- 
tude of a mile, half-way up the mountain, and the ex- 
cited cry of "An eruption! An eruption!! An erup- 
tion!!!" arose from all parts of the city, and a shower 
of fine cinders came sifting down upon us, making it 
unpleasant to walk in the streets. 
At 5 P. M. of the following day, a party of five, in 
two cabs, left Catania to visit the scene of the erup- 
tion. The party consisted of two Italians, two Eng- 
lishmen and an American. One of the Englishmen was 
Charley Worthington, a gentleman of fine education 
and heart-culture. The eruption is distant from Catania 
about 18 miles. Our way wound upward through 
groves of orange, lemon and olive. The bright green 
foliage of the orange and lemon interspersed with the 
sober gray of the olive and fig makes the sides of 
jEtna very beautiful to the height of 700 or 800 feet. 
Myriads of flowers of every hue were by the wayside. 
The sweet breath of these, mingled with the perfume 
of the pearly blossoms of the orange, filled the air 
with their fragrance. The scene about us was one of 
enchantment, but higher up in the distance was one 
of terrific grandeur. There a huge column of black 
smoke from the main crater, and the fierce column 
from the burning one, united thousands of feet up in 
the heavens, formed a perfect arch of wonderful sym- 
metry that darkened and glowed alternately. The apex 
of the arch floated away in a great river of billows to- 
ward the setting sun. The sun looked wan and lurid 
'midst the sulphurous smoke as it descended behind 
the mountains. There was not a cloud in the heavens 
save those from the burning mountain, which were be- 
ing driven westward by the wind. The full moon rose 
clear and bright above the Calabrian range, silvering 
its peaks. Far beyond us the' grand old Mediterranean 
Sea stretched away to the horizon in perfect tran- 
quillity. Its beautiful bosom wimpered and shimmered 
with the silver glitter of the moon. Our ride up the 
mountain was a most delightful experience. 
We left our cabs at Nicolosi, and hired mules and 
guides. It was still 8 miles further up to the erup- 
tion. Mounting the mules, we began to climb in 
earnest. When within 3 miles of the scene our mules 
could advance no farther. We then continued our 
climb on foot to within a mile of the eruption, where 
we halted for a rest and lunch. The scene before us 
was terrific. We ate our bread, cheese, and meat, well- 
seasoned with scoria, a heavy shower of which was 
raining down upon us from the volcano. After a rest 
of thirty minutes the order was to advance. Our 
guides, the two Italians and one other, refused to 
obey, declaring it was dangerous. Worthington and the 
American moved forward alone. A mountain, called 
Mont Grasso, loomed up in front, and a short distance 
south of the conflagration. To reach this we had to 
pass over the old lava bed of 1766. There was not a 
vestige of a path. We had a wild scramble over lava 
rocks that were like sea-tossed billows suddenly trans- 
formed to stone. They Avere rugged, sharp, contorted 
and twisted into every conceivable shape. Great seams 
and fissures yawned in every direction. To fall into 
one of these would be death. We moved slowly and 
cautiously till we reached the valley between the moun- 
tain and the fiery monster. In threading this valley we 
were nearly blinded by the smoke, and almost suff^o- 
-cated by the sulphurous gases. 
When we reached the extreme end of Mont Grasso 
(the nearest point to the eruption) we climbed up its 
precipitous side about 100 feet and seated ourselves. 
Before us (no obstacle intervening) was one of the 
grandest exhibitions nature ever produced; tongue can- 
not tell it, or pen describe it. There were three monster 
cones side by side. Each was spouting flame thousands 
of feet into the heavens. Every few moments there 
seemed to be great internal throes of nature, when 
with a report as of a hundred cannon, there would be 
whirled into the sky, in gyrations, floods of liquid lava 
and red glistening lava rocks. These would fall again 
into the craters or just outside of their rims. Clustered 
about were other smaller craters, all shooting upward 
livid flames, or spouting red-hot lava jets, some of 
them resembling fiery fountains, and there seemed to 
be a rivalry among them as to which could spout the 
highest. The incessant roar was deafening. It re- 
minded me of the battle of Chickamauga with its con- 
tinuous discharge of cannon and thousands of rifles. 
From the craters a river of lava came rushing down, 
bearing upon its surface great, black, unmelted boul- 
ders. It poured over a precipice in fiery sheets, form- 
ing a wonderful cascade. It then branched off into 
three different streams that wound along like monster 
fiery serpents. A little above the fall there seemed 
to be beneath the red hot river's bed some gigantic 
power imprisoned and struggling to be released. I 
told my companion it must be old Vulcan who, the 
classics allege, lives and works in ^Etna, forging thun- 
derbolts for Jupiter. It would puff, puff, puff like a 
mammoth high-pressure steam engine, and then, all of 
a sudden, with a burst of thunder, would hurl the river 
bed with its superincumbent lava gyrating into the 
heavens. A seething, boiling whirlpool would nistant- 
ly set in, which,, in a few seconds, would again be 
flooded by the advancing tide. Again the puffiiig would 
be resumed, and in a few minutes there would be a 
repetition of the terrific scene. The heat was scorch- 
ing. A strong breeze blew from the east, driving away 
the sulphurous vapors, else we could not have kept 
our position for a moment. 
While gazing with awe and bated breath at the won- 
derful scene, the ground suddenly opened within a 
stone's throw of us, and up shot a large number of 
great, redhot blocks that glowed with white heat. 
They fell back in the same spot, the ground closing 
over them. Many long flickering, beautiful tongues of 
orange, red, blue and green flame shot upward from 
the place. Soon again there was a sharp detonation 
of thunder, and from the same spot, higher up, still 
went another great shower of glowmg blocks, of which 
some fragments fell uncomfortably near us. You ought 
to have seen an Englishman and an American climb! 
We went up that steep mountainside with the agility of 
squirrels, and throwing ourselves down upon the nar- 
row crest of the mountain, continued to gaze and 
wonder. The mountain upon which we were shook 
and trembled beneath us, as if it had an ague fit. We 
had experienced the quaking when seated near its 
base, but on the crest the sickening motion was in- 
tensified and it seemed to rock to and fro. At first 
we felt like clinging to the rocks lest we might be 
shaken off, but a sailor gets used to a storm, and a 
soldier to battle, so we, after awhile, got used to the 
oscillating trembling motion. When scorise rattled 
down upon us like hail, we had all we could do to 
protect our hands and faces. That mountain to-day 
(May 30) cannot be ascended. It is surrounded by 
lava, and at times has been covered with fire. The 
spot that so suddenly opened up its battery and fright- 
ened us from our perch, afterward became a burning 
crater. 
We dared not descend where we climbed up. After 
an hour or two spent upon the crest watching this most 
majestic exhibition of nature, we threaded our way on 
the mountain top to its south end, the most distant 
from the eruption, and there descended. Then came 
the slow, tedious struggle over the old lava bed. When 
we had recrossed it Mr. Worthington's hands were 
worn through and bleeding, and the writer's light buck- 
skin gloves were torn to shreds. When we reached 
the place where we had left the mules we found that 
guides, companions and mules had left us, and we 
crawled back to Nicolosi on foot. Entering our cab 
we noted that the sun was gilding with golden light 
the eastern mountain tops, and that the sea was blush- 
ing a beautiful rose color beneath his ardent glances, 
but we were too tired and sleepy to return his glorious 
smile. We fell asleep in our cab, and were awakened 
at the door of the Consulate, in Catania, at the hour of 
9 A. M. 
Our streets are black with cinders. The ashes have 
fallen upon southern Italy. An English captain com- 
plained to me that his beautiful ship was begrimed 
and blackened by the storm of scoria while yet far dis- 
tant upon the sea. The three great craters described 
have since consolidated into one. The latest news is 
that Nicolosi is a doomed city, that a fiery stream of 
lava 500 feet wide and 45 feet thick is slowly advanc- 
ing upon it. Bprello and Bellpasso are threatened. 
Every movable thing has been taken from Nicolosi. 
The water of the cisterns has been pumped out to pre- 
vent explosions that would be caused by the hot lava 
sealing them up and converting the water into steam. 
The gates of that city are closed, and it is surrounded 
by a cordon of soldiers to prevent anyone from enter- 
ing. A bulletin this moment received announces that 
the eruption within the last 24 hours has greatly de- 
creased; that the lava flood is within 1,000 feet of the 
town, but it is hoped that the town may yet escape. 
Burning lava, when exposed to the air cools and 
thickens and moves slowly, but irresistibly. The fresh 
warm lava continues to pour along on top of the cooler 
strata. This forms great ridges and spreads over 
much space, and when at a distance from the erupting 
crater makes slow progress. The ridge is constantly 
cracking, and throwing off on either side great masses 
of burning matter. Vineyards are being destroyed, 
trees are burning, and everything is laid waste that 
the fell destroyer reaches. It will take centuries to 
deface the track of the fiery demon, and render the 
ground again arable, should there not be another visi- 
tation of ^Etna's wrath. Albert Woodcock, 
(Edited by his son, Dr. A. J. Woodcock.) 
RivRRSiDE Fakm, Byron, IH, 
A Visit to Pitcairn's Island. 
In Three Parts— Part Three. 
As we went on our way to see the village, whenever 
we would pass a house, one of the Avomen or girls 
would run out and drag me in to see where they lived. 
They had a lot of questions to ask about men who 
had left here, some of them years ago, and seemed to be 
surprised that I did not know them; they had gone to 
the United States; it was useless to explain that both 
the absent Pitcairn Islanders and I might be in the 
United States and still be 3,000 miles apart; they have 
no idea at all of distances or the extent of any coun- 
try. 
In about an hour we had got up to the chapel again 
and found the governor there ringing his bell to call 
the children to Sunday school. He called us in and 
said, "Mr. Robinson tells me that you could teach my 
boys about everything that is taught in your schools 
at home. Now teach them to-day. It will give me a 
rest; I generally teach them." Then giving Robin- 
son, who was here, too, the girls to teach, he turned 
his hour glass and left us. 
I had about twenty-five boys, of all ages, from 6 to 
18, but the youngest of them could read quite well. 
Their lesson was the third chanter of St. Matthew, 
about John the Baptist in the Wilderness. They had 
about six Testaments among them; a boy would read 
a verse, and then pass his book to the next boy. 
They told me that John the Baptist was the patron 
saint of about half of them here; about every second 
boy was named John. I told them that they could 
have him, but I claimed the other John, the evangelist, 
as mine. I was not a Baptist myself. Then turning 
over to St. John's Gospel, I told them about him, how 
he was Christ's youngest disciple, and that he had lived 
to be nearly one huudred years old. Then we turned 
to his book of Revelations, and I told them how he 
came to write them. 
They wanted to know about my country, the people 
in it and the animals we had. In telling them about 
the animals I had to keep in mind the fact that these 
boys had never seen an aniinal larger than a goat. 
One of them had seen the picture of an elephant, and 
asked about him. I told them where the elephants 
came from, what they used them for there, and what 
we used them for. 
Another boy had read about the buffalo. I told them 
about him and how we shot them and how the Indians 
•shot them with bows and arrows. Then I told them 
who the Indians were. They wanted to know what a 
horse was like. What he ate and if he would bite them. 
At the end of an hour the old governor came in, 
turning his hour glass again, put me and the boys over 
on the side the girls were on. Then going out he rang 
his bell, and everj' one on the island came in, all taking 
seats on our side of the chapel. The governor going 
to his reading desk, announced: "I expect the captain 
and his crew here this afternoon. When they come 
let every man and boy stand up; the women and girls 
need not rise." Then he began to read out a hymn; 
but in a moment stopped and held up his hand, and we 
all got on our feet. 
I looked over my shoulder and saw that the captain 
had brought three of his mates, all the white crew and 
all but an anchor watch of the natives. He had just 
landed the crew and marched them up here. The stew- 
ard and several others who were Catholics, had come 
of their own accord; he had not compelled them to 
come. The governor seated the crew, then led the 
captain up to his reading desk, and then took his seat 
along with us. 
The captain gave out the hymn, "Come, let us join 
our friends above," and these natives sang it about as 
well as a congregation on shore would do, though few 
of them had hymn books. Then the captain read the 
lesson, a chapter out of the Bible, and then made an 
address. After church, Mr. Robinson, who had been 
ashore all day, took the crew on board, while the cap- 
tain and his mates remained ashore. 
Early next morning the small boats began to come 
off, bringing fresh meat and vegetables, and they kept 
on bringing them until the captain told them to stop. 
They wanted no money; they had no use for it at that 
lime; but the captain gave the men and large boys 
shirts and cloths out of the "slop chest"; the value of 
these would be charged to the company as pay for fresh 
meat. The women did not fare as well. A whale ship 
does not carry any dry goods, but I got them a few 
later on. 
The first boat to come off was the governor's, and 
he had John for a passenger. I took the boy down to 
breakfast with me. The first thing that caught his 
eye was "the big lot of white bread that we had," this 
mess of ours was called the second cabin mess; we al- 
ways had fresh biscuit. 
] offered it to John, but he wanted the hard bread. 
"Let him have it," said the steward. "When he has 
eaten it as long as we have he won't want it quite so 
bad." 
After breakfast, taking John with me, I went below 
to help to get the stores we meant to give them. We 
gave t'lem a part of nearly everything we had — flour, 
sugar, coffee and vinegar — were what they wanted the 
worst. I showed John all over the ship. A little 
dumpy engine that stood forward to work the windlass 
and capstan claimed the most of his attention; he 
wanted to see it go, but we had no steam up. I took 
him everywhere except to the captain's cabin, that, 1 
told him, I would find an excuse to get into some time 
during tlie day. I left the cook's galley until the last, 
I wanted to see what the boy would do when he first * 
saw a negro. The cook was a full negro, who 
weighed about 300 pounds, and was nearly as broad as 
he was long. We called him Baltimore; his name was 
Collins. He was very good-natured, and when not busy 
cooking or telling his Kanaka help how to cook (they 
did the most of it), he would be either singing h>mns 
or playing the banjo. That banjo was kept going from 
morning to night; when he did not have it I did. 
Baltimore was sharpening a. knife on a steel and sing- 
ing "On Jordan's atormy banks I stand" at the top 
