MIDDLE AND VALLEY LAKE CRATERS, MOUNT GAMBIER, SOUTH AUSTRALIA.

CHAPTER VI.
VOLCANOES.

Volcanic Mountains—Extinct and Active Craters—Their Size—Dangerous Crater-explorations—Dr. Judd in the Kilauea Pit—Extinct Craters—Their Beauty—The Crater of Mount Vultur in Apulia—Volcanoes still constantly forming—Jorullo and Isalco—Submarine Volcanoes—Sabrina and Graham’s Island—Santorin—Number of Volcanoes—Their Distribution—Volcanoes in a constant state of eruption—Stromboli—Fumaroles—The Lava Lakes in Kilauea—Volcanic Paroxysms—Column of Smoke and Ashes—Detonations—Explosion of Cones—Disastrous Effects of Showers of Ashes and Lapilli—Mud Streams—Fish disgorged from Volcanic Caverns—Eruption of Lava—Parasitic Cones—Phenomena attending the Flow of a Lava Stream—Baron Papalardo—Meeting of Lava and Water—Scoriæ—Lava and Ice—Vast Dimensions of several Lava Streams—Scenes of Desolation—Volcanoes considered as safety-valves—Probable Causes of Volcanoes.

Volcanoes are vents which either have communicated, or still communicate, by one or several chimney-like canals or shafts, with a focus of subterranean fire, emitting, or having once emitted, heated matter in a solid, semi-liquid, or gaseous state. The first eruption of a volcano necessarily leaves a mound of scoriæ and lava, while numerous eruptions at length raise mountains, which are frequently of an amazing extent and height. These mountains, which are generally called volcanoes, though in reality they are but an effect of volcanic action situated far beneath their base, are called extinct when for many centuries they have exhibited no signs of combustion—active, when, either perpetually or from time to time, eruptions or exhalations of lava, scoriæ, or gases take place from their summits, or from vents in their sides. Their shape is generally that of a more or less truncated cone; but while some, like Cotopaxi or the Peak of Teneriffe, rise with abrupt declivities in the shape of a sugar-loaf, others, like Mauna Loa in the island of Hawaii, gradually, and almost imperceptibly, ascend from a vast base embracing many miles in circuit.

Their heights also vary greatly. While some, like Madana in Santa Cruz, or Djebel Teir on the coast of the Red Sea, scarcely raise their summits a few hundred feet above the level of the ocean, others, like Chuquibamba (21,000 feet), or Aconcagua (22,434 feet), hold a conspicuous rank among mountains of the first class.

The summit of a volcano generally terminates in a central cavity or crater, where the eruptive channel finds its vent. Craters are sometimes regularly funnel-shaped, descending with slanting sides to the eruptive mouth, but more commonly they are surrounded with high precipitous rock-walls, while their bottom forms a plain, which is frequently completely horizontal, and sometimes of a considerable extent. Its surface is rough and uneven, from the mounds of volcanic sand, of scoriæ, or of hardened lava with which it is covered, and generally exhibits a scene of dreadful desolation, rendered still more impressive by the steam and smoke, which, as long as the volcano continues in an active state, issue from its crevices.

Within this plain, the eruptive orifice or mouth of the volcano is almost universally surrounded by an elevation, composed of ejected fragments of scoriæ thrown from the vent. Such cones are forming constantly at Vesuvius, one being no sooner destroyed by any great eruption, before another begins to take shape and is enlarged, till often it reaches a height of several hundred feet.

Thus the crater of an active volcano is the scene of perpetual change—of a continual construction and re-construction, and the sands of the sea do not afford a more striking image of inconstancy.

The various craters are of very different dimensions. While the chief crater of Stromboli has a diameter of only fifty feet, that of Gunong Tenger, in Java, measures four miles from end to end; and, though the depth of a crater rarely exceeds 1,000 or 1,500 feet, the spectator, standing on the brink of the great crater of Popocatepetl, looks down into a gulf of 8,000 feet.

From the colossal dimensions of the larger craters, it may well be imagined that their aspect exhibits some of the sublimest though most gloomy scenery in nature—the picture of old Chaos with all its horrors.