Upa attempts conversation with us in broken
English, and the others laugh and talk incessantly. My inkstand,
pen, and small handwriting amuse them very much. Miss K., the
typical American travelling lady, who is encountered everywhere from
the Andes to the Pyramids, tireless, with an indomitable energy,
Spartan endurance, and a genius for attaining everything, and
myself, a limp, ragged, shoeless wretch, complete the group, and our
heaps of saddles, blankets, spurs, and gear tell of real travelling,
past and future. It is a most picturesque sight by the light of the
flickering fire, and the fire which is unquenchable burns without.
About 300 yards off there is a sulphur steam vapour-bath, highly
recommended by the host as a panacea for the woeful aches, pains,
and stiffness produced by the six-mile scramble through the crater,
and I groaned and limped down to it: but it is a truly spasmodic
arrangement, singularly independent of human control, and I have not
the slightest doubt that the reason why Mr. Gilman obligingly
remained in the vicinity was, lest I should be scalded or blown to
atoms by a sudden freak of Kilauea, though I don't see that he was
capable of preventing either catastrophe! A slight grass shed has
been built over a sulphur steam crack, and within this there is a
deep box with a sliding lid and a hole for the throat, and the
victim is supposed to sit in this and be steamed.
Pages:
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117