The guide would not venture on the outside ledge,
but Mr. Green, in his scientific zeal, crossed the crack, telling me
not to follow him, but presently, in his absorption with what he
saw, called to me to come, and I jumped across, and this remained
our perilous standpoint. {388}
Burned, singed, stifled, blinded, only able to stand on one foot at
a time, jumping back across the fissure every two or three minutes
to escape an unendurable whiff of heat and sulphurous stench, or
when splitting sounds below threatened the disruption of the ledge:
lured as often back by the fascination of the horrors below; so we
spent three hours.
There was every circumstance of awfulness to make the impression of
the sight indelible. Sometimes dense volumes of smoke hid
everything, and yet, upwards, from out "their sulphurous canopy"
fearful sounds rose, crashings, thunderings, detonations, and we
never knew then whether the spray of some hugely uplifted wave might
not dash up to where we stood. At other times the smoke partially
lifting, but still swirling in strong eddies, revealed a central
whirlpool of fire, wallowing at unknown depths, to which the lava,
from all parts of the lake, slid centrewards and downwards as into a
vortex, where it mingled its waves with indescribable noise and
fury, and then, breaking upwards, dashed itself to a great height in
fierce, gory, gouts and clots, while hell itself seemed opening at
our feet.
Pages:
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459