Greatest wonders of the world, as seen and described by famous writers

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As for our boatswain, he was so accustomed to this spectacle, that, after asking if we needed anything and upon our reply in the negative, he retired between decks and neither the lightnings that illuminated the air nor the thunders that shook it had power to disturb his slumbers.

We stayed here until two o’clock; finally, overcome with fatigue and sleep, we decided to retire to our cabin. As for Milord, nothing would persuade him to do as we did and he stayed all night on deck, growling and barking at the volcano.

We woke in the morning at the first movement of the Speronare. With the return of daylight the mountain lost all its fantastic appearance.

We constantly heard the detonations; but the flame had become invisible; and that burning lava stream of the night was confused in the day with the reddish ashes over which it rolls.

Ten minutes more and we were again in port. This time we had no difficulty in entering. Pietro and Giovanni got off with us; they wished to accompany us on our ascent.

We entered, not an inn (there are none in Stromboli), but a house whose proprietors were related to our captain. As it would not have been prudent to have started on our way fasting, Giovanni asked permission of our hosts to make breakfast for us while Pietro went to hunt for guides,—a permission not only accorded to us with much grace but our host also went out and came back in a few moments with the most beautiful grapes and figs that he could find.

After we had finished our breakfast, Pietro arrived with two Stromboliotes who consented, in consideration of half a piastre each, to serve as guides. It was already nearly eight o’clock: to avoid a climb in the greatest heat of the day, we started off immediately.

The top of Stromboli is only twelve or fifteen hundred feet above the level of the sea; but its slope is so sharp that you cannot climb in a direct manner, but must zigzag eternally. At first, on leaving the village, the road was easy enough; it rose in the midst of those vines laden with grapes that make the commerce of the island and from which the fruit hangs in such great quantity that any one may help himself to all he wants without asking the permission of the owner; however, upon leaving the region of the vineyards, we found no more roads, and we had to walk at random, looking for the best ground and the easiest slopes. Despite all these precautions, there came a moment when we were obliged to scramble on all fours: there was nothing to do but climb up; but this place once passed, I vow that on turning around and seeing it, jutting almost perpendicularly over the sea, I asked in terror how we could ever descend; our guides then said that we would come down by another road: that pacified me a little. Those who like myself are unhappy enough to have vertigo when they see a chasm below their feet will understand my question and still more the importance I attached to it.

This break-neck spot passed, the ascent became easier for a quarter of an hour; but soon we came to a place which at the first glance seemed impassable; it was a perfectly sharp-pointed angle that formed the opening of the first volcano, and part of which was cut out perpendicularly upon the crater while the other fell with so sharp a slope to the sea that it seemed to me if I should fall perpendicularly on the other side I could not help rolling from top to bottom. Even Jadin, who ordinarily climbs like a chamois without ever troubling about the difficulties of the ground, stopped short when we came to this passage, asking if there was not some way to avoid it. As you may imagine, this was impossible.

The crater of Stromboli is formed like a vast funnel, from the bottom and the centre of which is an opening through which a man can enter a little way, and which communicates with the internal furnace of the mountain; it is through this opening, resembling the mouth of a canon, that the shower of projectiles darts forth, which, falling again into the crater, sweeps with it down the inclined slope of stones the cinders and lava that, rolling to the bottom, block up that funnel. Then the volcano seems to gather its forces together for several minutes, compressed as it is by the stoppage of its valve; but after a moment its smoke trembles like a breath; you hear a deep roaring run through the hollow sides of the mountain; then the cannonade bursts forth again, throwing up two hundred feet above the summit new stones and new lava, which, falling back and closing the orifice of the passage anew, prepare for a new outburst.