“Shortly after our arrival, a cold wind came up that struck us to the very bone. There was no shelter to be obtained, as the descent into the crater was impossible, and the excavations from which the Indians take sulphur were covered deep with ice and snow. The bald, naked peak presented but one point where it was possible to spend the night. A little below the lip of the crater, on the southern side, a little steam escapes through a bed of sand, and here the snow is melted off a spot about a rod square. Into this sand we scratched a hole, and, pulling our blankets over us, laid down. We had no eyes for the magnificent panorama which was spread out before us, or the sun, which was going down blood-red in the west; we were too utterly miserable and cold.
“I do not think any of us slept a wink all night. Our blankets froze stiff as boards, and all attempts to light a little spirit lamp and make coffee were fruitless. We could not even drink our wine, for it had turned to ice in the bottles. Thus hour after hour of the longest night I ever spent dragged by, and at length signs of day began to creep up slowly from the east. Almost too stupefied and stiff to move, we were only induced to crawl out from our holes by the stern realization of our desperate situation. The wind, too, now began to go down somewhat, and after moving about a little we felt better. Making our way up to the topmost pinnacle, we planted our flagstaff and unfurled our blood-red banner to the breeze.
THE CRATER OF THE ORIZABA.
“The crater of Orizaba, which is much smaller than that of Popocatapetl, is still an awful chasm, and is probably not far from two miles in circumference. We could not take measurements of it, as all the instruments were down the mountain with the other party. It shows no signs of life, and with the exception of the heated sand on which we passed the night, we failed to notice any evidences of volcanic action still going on. But what a contrast this awful stillness to the great convulsions of which this mountain has once been the center. We had a magnificent view, for about an hour after sunrise, and as far as the eye could reach, peak after peak of lesser magnitude told the story of its volcanic birth. By a queer coincidence, I had brought The Last Days of Pompeii with me to read in leisure moments, and as I looked out over the world at my feet, and thought of Bulwer’s vivid description of the last days of that doomed city, the thought suggested itself, ‘who knows how many Pompeiis are buried beneath these hoary hills, and what tales might these rocks repeat if they would?’”
XVI.
CORAL REEFS AND CAVES IN THE PACIFIC.
THE ISLANDS OF THE PACIFIC—HOW THEY HAVE BEEN FORMED—WHAT THE CORAL IS—THE WONDROUS ARCHITECTS OF THE SEA—WHAT A UNITED STATES STEAMER SAW—HOW THE CORAL IS FISHED FOR—ROMANTIC STORY OF A CAVERN—HOW IT WAS DISCOVERED—AN ELOPEMENT AND EXERCISE IN DIVING—LOVE AND TURTLES—A BATTLE IN THE WATER—KILLED BY SHARKS—A MAIDEN’S GRIEF—THE PERIL OF A LOVER—SURPRISING A FATHER-IN-LAW—END OF A SUBMARINE COURTSHIP.
The waters of the Pacific ocean contain thousands of islands far away from the coast. Their presence is recognized, long before they become visible, by clouds directly above them in the otherwise clear sky. The land absorbs the heat of the sun, and accumulates it faster than the water; soon an ascending current of warm air is formed, carrying up moisture into the colder regions of the atmosphere, where it is condensed and forms clouds. A similar phenomenon is observed in our western plains, where the sky is frequently clear enough in the morning, but by ten or eleven o’clock, enough heat has been accumulated to cause the formation of clouds.