Chapter VI: Part 6

This, which is the last of the Lipari isles, bears in every part the stamp of fire. It was the superstitious belief of the ancient inhabitants that Vulcan had here established his forges, there being constant fires during the night, and a thick smoke throughout the day. It consists of a mountain in the form of a truncated cone, which is, however, merely a case opening and exposing to view a second cone within, more exact than the other, and in which the mouth of the volcano is placed. The latter is thus enveloped on three sides by the ancient cone, and is open only on that side which is immediately washed by the sea.

The base of the interior cone is separated from the steep sides of the ancient crater by a circular valley, which terminates on one side at the junction of the two mountains, and on the other sinks into the sea. In this valley, light pumice-stones are blended with fragments of black, vitreous lava, and buried in ashes perfectly white. The blow of a hammer on these stones produces a loud hollow sound, which reëchoes in the neighboring caverns, and proves that the surface is nothing more than the arch of a vault covering an immense abyss. The sound varies according to the thickness of the crust, which must have considerable solidity to support the weight of the new mountain. This, according to Dolomieu, is higher and steeper than the cone which contains the crater of Etna, and its access still more difficult; its perpendicular hight, however, is not more than twenty-six hundred and forty feet, or half a mile. He represents the crater of Vulcano as the most magnificent he ever saw; and Spallanzani observes that, with the exception of that of Etna, he does not know of any more capacious and majestic. It exceeds a mile in circuit, has an oval mouth, and its greatest diameter is from the south-east to the west, while its depth is not more than a quarter of a mile. The bottom is flat, and from many places streams of smoke exhale, emitting a strong sulphureous vapor. This vast cavity is very regular, and as its entire contents are displayed to the eye, presents one of the grandest and most imposing spectacles in nature. On large stones being rolled down, the mountain reëchoes; and on their reaching the bottom, they appear to sink in fluid. Indeed, with the aid of a glass, two small lakes, supposed to be filled with melted sulphur, have been discovered. The declivity of the interior walls is so great, that, even when there is not any danger from fire, the descent is next to impossible. After considerable difficulty, however, this was accomplished by Spallanzani on the south-east side, the only one accessible. He found the bottom to be somewhat more than one-third of a mile in circumference, and of an oval form. The subterraneous noise was here much louder than on the summit, sounding like an impetuous river foaming beneath, or, rather, like a conflict of agitated waves meeting and clashing furiously together. The ground was likewise in some places perforated with apertures, from which hissing sounds issued, resembling those produced by the bellows of a furnace. It shook when pressed by the feet; and a large piece of lava, let fall five or six feet, produced a subterraneous echoing sound, which continued some time, and was loudest in the center. These circumstances, combined with its burning heat, and the strong stench of sulphur it emits, prove that the fires of the volcano are still active.

Its eruptions have been most considerable during the earthquakes which have desolated Sicily and a greater part of Italy. In the month of March, 1786, after subterraneous thunders and roarings, which were heard over all the islands, to the great terror of the inhabitants, and were accompanied by frequent concussions, the crater threw out a prodigious quantity of sand, mixed with immense volumes of smoke and fire. This eruption continued fifteen days, and so great was the quantity of sand ejected that the circumjacent places were entirely covered with it to a considerable hight. The lava did not flow at the time, at least over the edges of the crater; and indeed, such a current is not remembered by any living person.

THE HIMALAYA MOUNTAINS.
BETWEEN INDIA AND THIBET.

“The great Himalayan snowy range,” says Mr. Fraser, “is only the high elevated crest of the mountainous tract that divides the plains of Hindoostan from those of Thibet, or Lesser Tartary. Far as they predominate over, and precipitously as they rear themselves above the rest, all the hills that appear in distant ranges, when viewed from the plains, are indeed only the roots and branches of this great stem; and, however difficult to trace, the connection can always be detected between each inferior mountain and some particular member of its great origin.

“The horizontal depth of this mountainous tract, on that side which overlooks Hindoostan, is no doubt various; but, from the difficulty of the country, a traveler performs a journey of many days before he reaches the foot of the immediate snowy cliffs. The best observations and surveys do not authorize the allowance of more than an average depth of about sixty miles from the plains to the commencement of these, in that part of the country that forms the subject of this narrative. The breadth of the snowy zone itself in all probability varies still more; for huge masses advance in some places into the lower districts, and in others the crest recedes in long ravines, that are the beds of torrents, while behind they are clothed by a succession of the loftier cliffs. Every account we receive of a passage through them, (and this is no doubt found most commonly where the belt is narrowest,) gives a detail of many days’ journey through the deserts of snow and rocks; and it is to be inferred, that on the north-east side they advance to, and retreat from the low ground in an equally irregular manner. Indeed, some accounts would induce the belief, that long ranges, crowned with snow-clad peaks, project in various places from the great spine, and include habitable and milder districts; for, in all the routes of which we have accounts, that proceed, in various directions toward the Trans-Himalayan countries, hills covered with snow are occasionally mentioned as occurring, even after the great deserts are passed, and the grazing country entered. The breadth, then, of this crest of snow-clad rock itself, can not fairly be estimated at less than from seventy to eighty miles.

“The great snowy belt, although its loftiest crest is broken into numberless cliffs and ravines, nevertheless presents a barrier perfectly impracticable, except in those places where hollows that become the beds of rivers have in some degree intersected it, and facilitated approach to its more remote recesses, or courageous and attentive perseverance has here and there, discovered a dangerous and difficult path, by which a possibility exists of penetrating across the range. Few rivers hold their course wholly through it: indeed, in the upper part the Sutlej alone has been traced beyond this rocky barrier; and there is a path along its stream, from different parts of which roads diverge, that lead in various directions through the mountain. No reasonable doubt can now exist of the very long and extraordinary course which this river takes.

“Captain Webb of the Bengal establishment, was at one time employed on a survey of a province of Kumaoon. On the twenty-first day of June, his camp was eleven thousand, six hundred and eighty feet above Calcutta. The surface was covered with very rich vegetation as high as the knee; there were very extensive beds of strawberries in full flower; and plenty of currant-bushes in blossom all around, in a clear spot of rich black mold soil, surrounded by a noble forest of pine, oak and rhododendron. On the twenty-second of June he reached the top of Pilgoenta-Churhaee, (or ascent,) twelve thousand, six hundred and forty-two feet above Calcutta. He was prevented from distinguishing very distant objects by a dense fog; but there was not the smallest patch of snow near him; and the surface, a fat black mold through which the rock peeped, was covered with strawberry plants, (not yet in flower,) butter-cups, dandelions, and a profusion of other flowers. The shoulders of the hill above him, about four hundred and fifty feet more elevated, were covered with the same to the top; and above five hundred feet below was a forest of pine, rhododendron and birch. There was some snow seen below in deep hollows, but it dissolves in the course of the season. These facts led Captain Webb to infer, that the inferior limit of perpetual congelation on the Himalaya mountains is beyond thirteen thousand, five hundred feet, at least, above the level of Calcutta: and that the level of the table-land of Tartary, immediately bordering on their range, is very far elevated beyond eight thousand feet, the hight at which it has been estimated.

“On the night of the sixteenth of July, we slept at Bheemkeudar, near the source of the Coonoo and Bheem streams. There is no wood near this place, even in the very bottom of the valley, and we had left even the stunted birch at a considerable distance below; but there was a profusion of flowers, ferns, thistles, &c., and luxuriant pasturage. Captain Webb’s limit of wood is at least as high as twelve thousand to twelve thousand, three hundred feet. I would, therefore, presume the site of Bheemkeudar to be considerably above that level; say thirteen thousand to thirteen thousand, three hundred feet, above the level of Calcutta. From thence we ascended at first rather gradually, and then very rapidly, till we left all luxuriant vegetation, and entered the region of stripped and scattered and partially melting snow. From calculating the distance passed, and adverting to the elevation we had attained, I would presume that this was at least fifteen hundred feet above Bheemkeudar, or from fourteen thousand, five hundred, to fifteen thousand feet above Calcutta.

“We proceeded onward, ascending very rapidly, while vegetation decreased gradually to a mere green moss, with here and there a few snow-flowers starting through it; snow fast increasing, till at length we entered on what I presume was the perennial and unmelting snow, entirely beyond the line of vegetation, where the rock was bare even of lichens: and in this we ascended, as I think, about eight hundred feet; for, though Bamsooroo Ghat may not be so far above this line, we continued ascending, even after crossing that point, and I would incline to estimate this utmost extent of ascent at two thousand feet more, or nearly seventeen thousand feet above the level of Calcutta.

“Whilst proposing to consider the point of sixteen thousand to sixteen thousand, five hundred feet, as that of inferior congelation, I must observe that there was no feeling of _frost_ in the air, and the snow was moist, though hard, chiefly through the influence of a thick mist, which, in fact, amounted to a very small drizzling rain, which fell around: all which would seem to indicate, that the true line of congelation had not there been attained; but we were surrounded by snow which evidently never melted. To a great depth below it extended all over the hills, very little broken, while on the valleys from whence the Coonoo and Bheem streams issue, at full two thousand feet below, it lay covering them and the surrounding mountains in an unbroken mass, many hundred feet thick. Thus, though it may seem contradictory, the line of perpetual congelation, in fact seems fixable at even below the point I have ventured to indicate, and, I presume, might, on these grounds, be placed somewhere between fifteen and sixteen thousand feet above the level of Calcutta.

“The result of all the considerations that arise out of the foregoing remarks is a belief, that the loftiest peaks of the Himalaya range will be found to fall considerably short of the hight attributed to them by Mr. Colebrooke; and that their loftiest peaks do not more than range from eighteen thousand to twenty-two or twenty-three thousand feet above the level of the sea.

“Having reached the top of an ascent, we looked down upon a very deep and dark glen, called Palia Gadh, which is the outlet to the waters of one of the most terrific and gloomy valleys I have ever seen. But it would not be easy to convey by any description a just idea of the peculiarly rugged and gloomy wildness of this glen: it looks like the ruins of nature, and appears, as it is said to be, completely impracticable and impenetrable. Little is to be seen except dark rock: wood only fringes the lower parts and the waters’ edge: perhaps the spots and streaks of snow, contrasting with the general blackness of the scene, highten the appearance of desolation. No living thing is seen; no motion is visible but that of the waters; no sound is heard but their roar. Such a spot is suited to engender superstition, and here it is accordingly found in full growth. Many wild traditions are preserved, and many extravagant stories related of it.

“The glen above described, is by far the most gloomy, savage scene we have yet met with. I regret that the weather did not permit a sketch of it to be attempted. Beyond this we could see nothing in the course of the river but rocky banks. The opposite side is particularly precipitous; yet along its face a road is carried, which is frequented as much as this, and leads to villages still farther up. By the time we had reached the village, the clouds which had lowered around and sunk down on the hills, began to burst with loud thunder and heavy rain. The noise was fearfully reverberated among the hills; and during the night more than once the sound was heard of fragments from the brows of the mountains, crashing down to the depths below with a terrific din. Our quarters were good. I slept in a temple, neat, clean and secure from the weather.”

GUNGOTREE, THE SOURCE OF THE JUMNA, A BRANCH OF THE
GANGES, IN THE HIMALAYA MOUNTAINS.

Gungotree, the source of the Jumna, represented in the cut below, the most sacred branch of the Ganges, ought to hold, and does hold the first rank among its holy places. Here all is mythological ground. Here Mahadeo sits enthroned in clouds and mist, amid rocks that defy the approach of living thing, and snows that make desolation more awful. Gods, goddesses and saints here continually adore him at mysterious distance, and you traverse their familiar haunts. But, although Gungotree be the most sacred, it is not the most frequented shrine, access to it being far more difficult than to Buddrinauth; and consequently to this latter, pilgrims flock in crowds, appalled at the remoteness and danger of the former place of worship. This may pretty fully account for the superior riches and splendor of Buddrinauth. Here are temples of considerable extent, priests and officials in abundance, who preserve an imposing exterior, and an appearance venerable from power and comparative magnificence, and consequently procure rich and ample offerings to keep up their comfortable dignity.

The temple of Bhadrinath, is situated on the west bank of the Alackunda, in a valley four miles long, and one mile in its greatest breadth. The east bank rises considerably higher than the west bank, and is on a level with the top of the temple. The position of the sanctuary is considered equidistant from two lofty mountains, which are designated by the names of the Nar and the Narayena Purvatas. The former is to the east, the latter to the west, and completely covered with snow from the summit to the base.

The temple of Bhadri-Nath has more beneficed lands attached to it than any sacred Hindoo establishment in this part of India. It is said to possess seven hundred villages in different parts of Gurwhal and Kumaoon: many of them have been conferred by the government; others have been given in pledge for loans; and some few, purchased by individuals, have been presented as religious offerings.

The annual ceremony of carrying the images of their gods to wash in the sacred stream of the Jumna, is, it appears, one of much solemnity among the inhabitants of the neighborhood; and the concourse of people that here assemble, are busily engaged, and continue to be fully occupied in doing honor to it. They dance to the sound of strange music, and intoxicate themselves with a sort of vile spirit, brewed from grain and particular roots, sometimes, it is said, sharpened by pepper. The dance is most grotesque and savage; a multitude of men taking hands sometimes in a circle, sometimes in a line, beating time with their feet, bend with one accord, first nearly to the earth with their faces, then backward, and then sidewise, with various wild contortions. These, and their uncouth dress of black and gray blankets, give a peculiar air of brutal ferocity to the assemblage. The men dance all day, and in the evening they are joined by the women, who mix indiscriminately with them, and keep up dancing and intoxication till the night is far advanced. They continue this frantic kind of worship for several days; and, in truth, it is much in unison with their general manners and habits, savage and inconsistent. At a place so sacred, the residence of so many Brahmins, and the resort of so many pilgrims, we might expect to find a strict attention to the forms of religion, and a scrupulous observance of the privations and austerities enjoined by it. So far, however, is this from the truth, that much is met with, shocking even to those Hindoos who are less bigoted.

“There were several points to be arranged,” says Mr. Fraser, “before we could set off for Gungotree, the source of the Jumna. I did not deem it proper to go unarmed; but agreed that only five men should be accoutered to attend us, and that I should myself carry my gun. But all these weapons of war were to be put aside before we got within sight of the holy spot, and deposited in a cave near it, under a guard. I also pledged myself that no use should be made of these instruments, nor any life sacrificed for the purpose of food, either by myself or by any of my people, after leaving the village, until we returned; moreover, that I would not even carry meat of any sort, dead or alive, along with me, but eat only rice and bread. As to the putting off my shoes, they did not even propose it to me, and it could not have been done; but I volunteered to put them off, when entering into the precincts of the temple and holier places, which pleased them greatly. All the Hindoos, including the Ghoorkhas, went from the village barefoot.

“Just at the end of the bridge there is an overhanging rock, under which worship is performed to Bhyram, and a black stone partly painted red, is the image of the god; and here not only were prayers and worship performed, but every one was obliged to bathe and eat bread baked by the Brahmins, as preparatory to the great and effectual ablutions at the holier Gungotree. This occupied a considerable time, as the party was numerous: in the mean time I took a very imperfect sketch of the scene, after which I bathed myself at the proper place, which is the junction of the two streams, while the Brahmin prayed over me. Among the ceremonies performed, he made me hold a tuft of grass while he prayed, which at the conclusion he directed me to throw into the eddy occasioned by the meeting of the two waters.

“By an unpleasant path we reached a step, or level spot on the first stage of the mountain, where, in a thick grove of fir-trees, is placed a small temple to Bhyram, a plain white building, built by order of Umur Sing T’happa, who gave a sum of money to repair the road, and erect places of worship here, and at Gungotree. Having paid our respects to Byramjee, we proceeded along the side of the hill on the right bank, north of the river, gradually ascending by a path equally difficult and dangerous as the first part of our ascent, but more fearful, as the precipice to the river, which rolls below us, increases in hight, and exceedingly toilsome from the nature of the ground over which it passes, and which consists wholly of sharp fragments from the cliffs above, with fallen trunks and broken branches of trees.

“The path increases in difficulty from the very irregular nature of the ground, as well as the steepness of the hill face across which it leads, ascending and descending as the small, though deep water-courses furrow the mountain side, in loose soil, formed of small fragments fallen from above, and which slip down, threatening to carry the traveler to the gulf below. The shapeless blocks of rock now more completely obstruct the way, and for hundreds of yards, at times, the passenger must clamber over these masses, heaped as they are one upon another, in monstrous confusion, and so uncertain and unsteady, that, huge though they are, they shake and move even under the burden of a man’s weight. So painful indeed is this track, that it might be conceived as meant to serve as a penance to the unfortunate pilgrims with bare feet, thus to prepare them for the special and conclusive act of piety they have in view, as the object of their journey to these extreme wilds.

“The spot which bears the name of Gungotree, is concealed by the roughness of the ground, and the masses of fallen rock, so as not to be seen till the traveler comes close upon it. The temple is situated precisely on the sacred stone on which Bhagirutte used to worship Mahadeo, and is a small building of a square shape for about twelve feet high, and rounding in, in the usual form of pagodas, to the top. It is quite plain, painted white, with red moldings, and surmounted with the usual melon-shaped ornaments of these buildings. From the eastern face of the square, which is turned nearly to the sacred source, there is a small projection covered with a stone roof, in which is the entrance facing the east, and just opposite this there is a small pagoda-shaped temple to Bhyramjee. The whole is surrounded by a wall of unhewn stone and lime, and the space this contains is paved with flat stones. In this space too, there is a comfortable but small house for the residence of the Brahmins who come to officiate. Without the inclosure there are two or three sheds constructed of wood, called _dhurum sallahs_, built for the accommodation of pilgrims who resort here; and there are many caves around formed by overhanging stones, which yield a shelter to those who can not find accommodation in the sheds.

“The scene in which this holy place is situated, is worthy of the mysterious sanctity attributed to it, and the reverence with which it is regarded. We have not here the confined gloominess of Bhyram Gattee: the actual dread which can not but be inspired by the precipices and torrents, and perils of the place, here gives way to a sensation of awe, imposing but not embarrassing, that might be compared to the dark and dangerous pass to the center of the ruins of a former world; for, most truly, there is little here that recalls the recollection of that which we seem to have quitted. The bare and peaked cliffs which shoot to the skies, yield not in ruggedness or elevation to any we have seen; their ruins lie in wild chaotic masses at their feet, and scantier wood imperfectly relieves their nakedness: even the dark pine more rarely roots itself in the deep chasms which time has worn. Thus on all sides is the prospect closed, except in front to the eastward; where, from behind a mass of bare spires, four huge, lofty, snowy peaks arise: these are the peaks of Roodroo-Himala. There could be no finer finishing, no grander close to such a scene, as is visible in the engraving.

“We approach it through a labyrinth of enormous shapeless masses of granite, which during ages have fallen from the cliffs above, that frown over the very temple, and in all probability will some day themselves descend in ruins and crush it. Around the inclosure, and among these masses, for some distance up the mountain, a few fine old pine-trees throw a dark shade and form a magnificent foreground; while the river runs impetuously in its shingly bed, and the stifled but fearful sound of the stones which it rolls along with it, crushing together, mixes with the roar of its waters.

“It is easy to write of rocks and wilds, of torrents and precipices; it is easy to tell of the awe such scenes inspire: this style and these descriptions are common and hackneyed. But it is not so simple, to many surely not very possible, to convey an adequate idea of the stern and rugged majesty of some scenes; to paint their lonely desertness, or describe the undefinable sensation of reverence and dread that steals over the mind while contemplating the death-like, ghastly calm that is shed over them: and when at such a moment we remember our homes, our friends, our firesides, and all social intercourse with our fellows, and feel our present solitude, and far distance from all these dear ties, how vain it is to strive at description! Surely such a scene is Gungotree. [See cut, page 109.] Nor is it, independently of the nature of the surrounding scenery, a spot which lightly calls forth powerful feelings. We were now in the center of the stupendous Himalaya, the loftiest and perhaps most rugged range of mountains in the world. We were at the acknowledged source of that noble river, which is equally an object of veneration and a source of fertility, plenty and opulence to Hindoostan; and we had now reached the holiest shrine of Hindoo worship which these holy hills contain. These are surely striking considerations, combining with the solemn grandeur of the place, to move the feelings strongly.

“The fortuitous circumstance of being the first European that ever penetrated to this spot, was no matter of boast, for no great danger had been braved, no extraordinary fatigues undergone; the road is now open to any other who chooses to attempt it; but it was a matter of satisfaction to myself. The first object of inquiry that naturally occurs to the traveler, after casting a glance over the general landscape, is the source of the river. Here, as at Jumnotree, you are told that no mortal has gone, or can go further toward its extreme origin than this spot; and the difficulty is indeed very apparent. I made a trial to gain a point about two furlongs beyond the temple, both for the purpose of observing the course of the river, and of seeing Gungotree in another point of view. But having with considerable difficulty made my way over the unsteady fragments for some hundred yards, at the risk of being precipitated into the stream, I was forced to turn back.

“The source is not more than five miles’ horizontal distance from the temple, and in a direction south-east, eighty-five degrees nearly; and beyond this place it is in all probability chiefly supplied by the melting of the great bosom of snow which terminates the valley, and which lies between the peaks of the great mountain above mentioned.

“This mountain, which is considered to be the loftiest and greatest of the snowy range in this quarter, and probably yields to none in the whole Himalaya, obtains the name of Roodroo Himala, and is held to be the throne or residence of Mahadeo himself. It is also indiscriminately called Pauch Purbut, from its five peaks, and Soomeroo Purbot, which is not to be confounded with the mountain so called near Bunderbouch; and sometimes the general appellation of Kylas is given, which literally signifies any snowy hill, but is applied to this mountain by way of preëminence. It has five principal peaks, called Roodroo Himala, Burrumpooree, Bissenpooree, Oodgurre Kanta and Soorga Rounee. These form a sort of semicircular hollow of very considerable extent, filled with eternal snow, from the gradual dissolution of the lower parts of which the principal part of the stream is generated: probably there may be smaller hollows beyond the point to the right above Gungotree, which also supply a portion.

“Within the temple there are three images; one, that of Kali; and the elevated stone shelf on which they were placed was wet and soiled with the offerings made; there was a peculiar smell, but I know not whence it proceeded. The place, as usual, was lighted by a small lamp: no daylight had admittance. Just below the temple, on the river side, grew three poplar trees, and a few small larches; above there are the remains of a fine old silver fir-tree, which overshadows some of the caves and sheds. The whole people also bathed, and contributed something to the priesthood; and it was a matter of serious importance, as well as of great joy to every one, that we had thus happily reached a place of such supereminent sanctity: such, indeed, that the act of bathing here is supposed to cleanse from every sin heretofore committed, and the difficulty of which is so great, that few, except professional devotees, ever attempt reaching the holy place.

“It is customary that those who have lost their father and mother, or either of these, shall be shaved at this spot; and it was curious to observe the whimsical changes produced by the operation, which numbers underwent. It appears also, that one chief ordinance was the going frequently round the holy temple; and we particularly observed that those who were noted as the greatest rogues were most forward in this pious exercise: one man, in particular, who had been a notorious thief, was unwearied in his perseverance.

“Well, indeed, do they say, that Seeva has made these recesses which he inhabits, inaccessible to all but those whom true devotion leads to his shrine. That man must have been indeed strongly impelled by devotion, ambition, or curiosity, who first explored the way to Gungotree. It were unavailing to inquire, and perhaps of little use, if known, to which of these motives we owe the enterprise; but patience, perseverance, and courage, must have been strongly united with it to lead him safely and successfully through those awful cliffs, that would bar the way to most men. Another omen of favor pointed out was, the increase of the river after bathing, as at Jumnotree; and it is singular enough, that during the time we remained here, I remarked several increases and decreases of the water, without any obvious causes; but these may fairly be referred to the effects of sudden changes of temperature occurring frequently among the hills, and acting on the body of snow that feeds the river.”

ASIATIC VOLCANOES.

Among the Asiatic burning mountains, a brief account of which we introduce after the above interesting notice of the grand Himalaya chain, those of Japan are both remarkable and numerous. On the summit of a mountain in the province of Figo, is a large cavern, formerly the mouth of a volcano, but the flame of which has ceased, probably for want of combustible matter. In the same province, near a religious structure called the Temple of the Jealous God of Aso, a perpetual flame issues from the top of a mountain. In the province of Tsickusen is another burning mountain, where was formerly a coal-pit, which having been set on fire by the carelessness of the workmen, has been burning ever since. Sometimes a black smoke, accompanied by a very disagreeable stench, is observed to issue from the summit of a famous mountain called Fesi, in the province of Seruga. This mountain is said to be nearly as high as the peak of Teneriffe, but in shape and beauty is supposed not to have an equal. Its top is covered with perpetual snow. Belonging to the Japanese cluster, and not far from Piranda, is a small rocky island, which has been burning and trembling for many centuries; and in another small island, opposite to Santzuma, is a volcano which has been burning at different intervals for many ages.

Captain Gore, when leaving Japan, passed by great quantities of pumice-stone, several pieces of which were taken up, and found to weigh from one ounce to three pounds. It was conjectured that these stones had been thrown into the sea by eruptions at various times, as many of them were covered by barnacles (small shells) and others were quite bare.

VOLCANIC MOUNTAINS OF KAMTSCHATKA.

There are three burning mountains of Kamtschatka, which for many years have thrown out a considerable smoke, but do not often burst into a flame. One of these is situated in the vicinity of Awatska; and another, named the volcano of Tolbatchiek, on a neck of land between the river Kamtschatka and the Tolbatchiek. In the beginning of the year 1739, the flames issued with such violence from the crater, as to reduce to ashes the forests on the neighboring mountains. This was succeeded by a cloud of smoke, which overspread and darkened the whole country, until it was dissipated by a shower of cinders, which covered the ground to the distance of thirty miles. The third volcano is on the top of the particular mountain of Kamtschatka, which is described as by far the highest in the peninsula. It rises from two rows of hills, somewhat in the form of a sugar-loaf, to a very great hight. It usually throws out ashes twice or thrice a year, sometimes in such quantities, that for three hundred versts, (one hundred and sixty-five English miles,) the earth is covered with them. In the year 1737, at the latter end of September, a conflagration, which lasted for a week, was so violent and terrific, that the mountain appeared, to those who were fishing at sea, like one red-hot rock; and the flames which burst through several openings, with a dreadful noise, resembled rivers of fire. From the inside of the mountains were heard thunderings, crackings, and blasts like those of the strongest bellows, shaking all the neighboring territory. During the night it was most terrible; but at length the conflagration ended by the mountain’s casting forth a prodigious quantity of cinders and ashes, among which were porous stones, and glass of various colors. When Captain Clarke sailed out of the harbor of St. Peter and St. Paul, in June, 1778, to the northward, an eruption of the first of these volcanoes was observed. A rumbling noise, resembling distant hollow thunder, was heard before daylight; and when the day broke, the decks and sides of the ships were covered with a fine dust, resembling emery, nearly an inch thick, the air at the same time being charged with this substance to such a degree, that toward the mountain, which is situated to the north of the harbor, the surrounding objects were not to be distinguished. About twelve o’clock, and during the afternoon, the explosions became louder, and were followed by showers of cinders, which were in general about the size of peas, though many were picked up on the deck larger than a hazel-nut. Along with the cinders fell several small stones which had not undergone any change from the action of fire.

VOLCANIC MOUNTAIN OF ALBAY.

The following details of the dreadful eruption of the volcano of Albay, in the island of Luconia, one of the Philippines, on the first of February, 1814, are from an eye-witness of the dreadful scenes it presented.

“During thirteen years the volcano of Albay had preserved a profound silence. It was no longer viewed with that distrust and horror with which volcanoes usually inspire those who inhabit the vicinity. Its extensive and spacious brow had been converted into highly cultivated and beautiful gardens. On the first day of January last, no person reflected, in the slightest degree, upon the damages and losses which so bad a neighbor had once occasioned. Previously to the former eruptions there had been heard certain subterraneous sounds, which were presages of them. But upon the present occasion we remarked nothing, except that on the last day of January we perceived some slight shocks. In the night the shocks increased. At two in the morning one was felt more violent than those hitherto experienced. It was repeated at four, and from that time they were almost continual until the eruption commenced.

“The day broke, and I scarcely ever remarked in Camarines a more serene and pleasant morning. I observed, however, that the ridges nearest to the volcano were covered with mist, which I supposed to be the smoke of some house that might have been on fire in the night. But at eight o’clock the volcano began suddenly to emit a thick column of stones, sand, and ashes, which with the greatest velocity, was elevated into the highest regions of the atmosphere. At this sight we were filled with the utmost dread, especially when we observed that in an instant the brow of the volcano was quite covered. We had never seen a similar eruption, but were convinced that a river of fire was flowing toward us, and was about to consume us. The first thing which was done in my village was to secure some things esteemed sacred, and then we betook ourselves to flight. The swiftness with which the dreadful tide rolled toward us, did not give us time either for reflection or consultation. The frightful noise of the volcano caused great terror even in the stoutest hearts. We all ran, filled with dismay and consternation, endeavoring to reach the highest and most distant places, to preserve ourselves from so imminent a danger. The horizon began to darken, and our anxieties redoubled. The noise of the volcano continually increased, the darkness augmented, and we continued our flight. But, notwithstanding our swiftness, we were overtaken by a heavy shower of huge stones, by the violence of which many unfortunate persons were in a moment killed. This cruel circumstance obliged us to make a pause in our career, and to shelter ourselves under the houses; but the flames and burnt stones which fell from above, in a short time reduced them to ashes.

“The sky was now completely overcast, and we remained enveloped and immersed in a thick and palpable darkness. From that moment reflection was at an end. The mother abandoned her children, the husband his wife, and the children forgot their parents.

“In the houses we had no longer any shelter. It was necessary to abandon, or perish with them; yet, to go out uncovered, was to expose one’s self to a danger not less imminent, because many of the stones were of an enormous size; and they fell as thick as drops of rain. It was necessary to defend ourselves as well as we could. Some covered themselves with hides, others with tables and chairs, and others with boards and tea-trays. Many took refuge in the trunks of trees, others among the canes and hedges, and some hid themselves in a cave, where the brow of a mountain protected them.

“About ten o’clock the heavy stones ceased to fall, and a rain of thick sand succeeded. At half past one the noise of the volcano began to diminish, and the horizon to clear a little; and at two it became quite tranquil; and we now began to perceive the dreadful ravages which the darkness had hitherto concealed from us. The ground was covered with dead bodies, part of whom had been killed by the stones, and the others consumed by the fire. Two hundred perished in the church of Budiao, and thirty-five in a single house in that village. The joy the living felt at having preserved themselves, was in many converted into the extremity of sorrow at finding themselves deprived of their relations and friends. Fathers found their children dead, husbands their wives, and wives their husbands, in the village of Budiao, where there were very few who had not lost some of their nearest connections. In other places we found many persons extended upon the ground, wounded or bruised in a thousand ways. Some with their legs broken, some without arms, some with their skulls fractured, and others covered with wounds. Many died immediately, others on the following days, and the rest were abandoned to the most melancholy fate, without physicians, without medicines, and in want even of necessary food.

“Five populous towns were entirely destroyed by the eruption; more than twelve hundred of the inhabitants perished amidst the ruins; and twenty thousand who survived the awful catastrophe, were stripped of their possessions and reduced to beggary.

“The subsequent appearance of the volcanic mountain was most melancholy and terrific. Its side, formerly so well cultivated, and which afforded a prospect the most picturesque, is now become a barren sand. The stones, sand and ashes, which cover it, in some places exceed the depth of ten and twelve yards; and on the ground where lately stood the village of Budiao, there are spots in which the cocoa-trees are almost covered. In the ruined villages, and through the whole extent of the eruption, the ground remains buried in the sand to the depth of half a yard, and scarcely a single tree is left alive. The crater of the volcano has lowered more than one hundred and twenty feet; and the south side discovers a spacious and horrid mouth, which is frightful to the view. Three new ones have opened at a considerable distance from the principal crater, through which also smoke and ashes are incessantly emitted. In short, the most beautiful villages of Camarines, and the principal part of that fine province, are deeply covered with barren sand.”

ISLANDS WHICH HAVE RISEN FROM THE SEA.

Besides the convulsions of nature displayed in volcanoes, the most remarkable particulars of which we have given in our history of mountains, other operations are carried on below the fathomless depths of the sea, the nature of which can only be conjectured by the effects produced. Nor is it more astonishing that inflammable substances should be found beneath the bottom of the sea, than at similar depths on land, and that there also the impetuous force of fire should cause the imprisoned air and elastic gases to expand, and, by its mighty force, should drive the earth at the bottom of the sea above its surface. These marine volcanoes are perhaps more frequent, though they do not so often come within the reach of human observation, as those on land; and stupendous must be the operations carried on, when matter is thrown up to an extent which the ingenuity of man does not enable him to reach by fathoming.

Many instances have occurred, as well in ancient as in modern times, of islands having been formed in the midst of the sea; and their sudden appearance has constantly been preceded by violent agitations of the surrounding waters, accompanied by dreadful noises, and in some instances by fiery eruptions from the newly formed isles, which are composed of various substances, frequently intermixed with a considerable quantity of volcanic lava. Such islands remain for ages barren, but in a long course of time become abundantly fruitful. It is a matter of curious inquiry, whether springs are found on such newly created spots, when the convulsions which gave them birth have subsided; but on this point it would seem that we are not possessed of any certain information, as it does not appear that they have been visited by any naturalist with the express view of recording their properties.

Among the writers of antiquity who have transmitted accounts of islands which have thus started up to the view of the astonished spectator, Seneca asserts that, in his time, the island of Therasea, in the Egean sea, was seen to rise in this manner by several mariners, who were sailing near the point of its ascent. Pliny’s relation is still more extraordinary; for he says that in the Mediterranean, thirteen islands emerged at once from the sea, the cause of which he ascribes rather to the retiring of the waters, than to any subterraneous operation of nature: but he speaks at the same time of the island of Hiera, in the vicinity of Therasea, as having been formed by subterraneous explosions, and enumerates several others said to have been derived from a similar origin, in one of which he says, a great abundance of fishes were found, of which, however, all who ate, perished soon afterward.

It is to the Grecian archipelago, and the Azores, or Western isles, that we are to look for the grandest and most surprising instances of this phenomenon. We will select an example from each of these groups of islands, beginning with the latter.

In December, 1720, a violent earthquake was felt on the island of Tercera, one of the Azores. And on the following morning, a new island, which had sprung up in the night, made its appearance, and a huge column of smoke was seen rising from it. The pilot of a ship which attempted to approach it, sounded on one of these newly formed islands, with a line of sixty fathoms, but could not find a bottom. On the opposite side, the sea was deeply tinged with various colors, white, blue and green; and was very shallow. This island was larger on its first appearance than at some distance of time afterward; it at length sunk beneath the level of the sea, and is now no longer visible.

What can be more surprising than to see fire, not only force its way out of the bowels of the earth, but likewise make for itself a passage through the waters of the sea! What can be more extraordinary, or foreign to our common notions of things, than to observe the bottom of the sea rise up in a mountain above its surface, and become so firm an island as to be able to resist the violence of the greatest storms! We know that subterraneous fires, when pent up in a narrow passage, are able to elevate a mass of earth as large as an island; but that this should be done in so regular and precise a manner, that the water of the sea should not be able to penetrate and extinguish those fires; and that, after they should have exhausted themselves, the mass of earth should not fall down, or sink again with its own weight, but still remain in a manner suspended over the great arch below; this seems more surprising than any of the facts which have been related of Mount Etna, Vesuvius, or any other volcano.

In the first part of the Transactions of the Royal Society for the year 1812, Captain Tillard, of the British navy, has published a very interesting narrative of a similar phenomenon, which occurred in the same sea near the Azores. We give this narrative in his own words.

“Approaching the island of St. Michael’s, on Sunday, the twelfth of June, 1811, in his majesty’s sloop Sabrina, under my command, we occasionally observed, rising in the horizon, two or three columns of smoke, such as would have been occasioned by an action between two ships, to which cause we universally attributed its origin. This opinion was, however, in a very short time changed, from the smoke increasing and ascending in much larger bodies than could possibly have been produced by such an event; and having heard an account, prior to our sailing from Lisbon, that in the preceding January or February, a volcano had burst out within the sea near St. Michael’s, we immediately concluded that the smoke we saw proceeded from that cause, and, on our anchoring the next morning in the road of Ponta del Gada, we found this conjecture correct as to the cause, but not as to the time; the eruption of January having totally subsided, and the present one having only burst forth two days prior to our approach, and about three miles distant from the one before alluded to.

“Desirous of examining as minutely as possible a contention so extraordinary between two such powerful elements, I set off from the city of Ponta del Gada on the morning of the fourteenth, in company with Mr. Read, the consul-general of the Azores, and two other gentlemen. After riding about twenty miles across the north-west end of the island of St. Michael’s, we came to the edge of the cliff, whence the volcano burst suddenly upon our view in the most terrific and awful grandeur. [See cut, page 122.] It was only a short mile from the base of the cliff, which was nearly perpendicular, and formed the margin of the sea; this cliff being, as nearly as I could judge, from three to four hundred feet high. To give you an adequate idea of the scene by description, is far beyond my powers; but for your satisfaction, I shall attempt it.

“Imagine an immense body of smoke rising from the sea, the surface of which was marked by the slippery rippling of the waves, occasioned by the light and steady breezes incidental to these climates in summer. In a quiescent state, it had the appearance of a circular cloud revolving on the water like a horizontal wheel, in various and irregular involutions, expanding itself gradually on the lee side, when suddenly a column of the blackest cinders, ashes and stones would shoot up in the form of a spire, at an angle of from ten to twenty degrees from a perpendicular line, the angle of inclination being universally to windward; this was rapidly succeeded by a second, third and fourth shower, each acquiring greater velocity, and overtopping the other till they had attained an altitude as much above the level of our eye, as the sea was below it.

“As the impetus with which the columns were severally propelled diminished, and their ascending motion had nearly ceased, they broke into various branches resembling a group of pines; these again forming themselves into festoons of white feathery smoke, in the most fanciful manner imaginable, intermixed with the finest particles of falling ashes, which at one time assumed the appearance of innumerable plumes of black and white ostrich feathers, surmounting each other, and another, that of the light wavy branches of a weeping-willow.

“During these bursts, the most vivid flashes of lightning continually issued from the densest part of the volcano; and the cloud of smoke, now ascending to an altitude much above the highest point to which the ashes were projected, rolled off in large masses of fleecy clouds, gradually expanding themselves before the wind in a direction nearly horizontal, and drawing up to them a quantity of water-spouts, which formed a most beautiful and striking addition to the general appearance of the scene.

“That part of the sea where the volcano was situated, was upward of thirty fathoms deep, and at the time of our viewing it the volcano was only four days old. Soon after our arrival on the cliff, a peasant observed he could discern a peak above the water: we looked but could not see it; however, in less than half an hour it was plainly visible, and before we quitted the place, which was about three hours from the time of our arrival, a complete crater was formed above the water, not less than twenty feet high on the side where the greatest quantity of ashes fell; the diameter of the crater being apparently about four or five hundred feet.

“The great eruptions were generally attended with a noise like the continued firing of cannon and musketry intermixed, as also with slight shocks of earthquakes; several of which having been felt by my companions, but none by myself, I had become half skeptical, and thought their opinion arose merely from the force of imagination; but while we were sitting within five or six yards of the edge of the cliff, partaking of a slight repast which had been brought with us, and were all busily engaged, one of the most magnificent bursts took place which we had yet witnessed, accompanied by a very severe shock of an earthquake. The instantaneous and involuntary movement of each was to spring upon his feet; and I said, ‘This admits of no doubt.’ The words had scarcely passed my lips, before we observed a large portion of the face of the cliff, about fifty yards on our left, falling, which it did with a violent crash. So soon as our first consternation had a little subsided, we removed about ten or a dozen yards further from the edge of the cliff, and finished our dinner.