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eruption to the very walls of the pit may be followed. There is something about this which is fascinating to a degree, whether it be followed in its wonderful colorings with the eye of the scientist or simply as on onlooker, sated with the grandeurs of Nature. To visit the Hawaiian Islands and not see this gaping wound in the crust of the mountain which bears the name of Halemaumau is to have failed in a mission.

"At night the pit with its acres of living fire, is an awe-inspiring spectacle. Here the red glows like a magnificent molten ruby and the quivering shafts of an inferno light up in gigantic respirations the whole floor of the crater. It seems as though some great creature were changing its hues in fearful colors, a chameleon of blood and black coiled about the bottom of an immense cauldron, and from among the coils, ever and anon, shoot forth the flamed tongues of a million ruddy serpents. From between the red and the black, the glow of the white hot liquid shines as the scales on some great burning salamander. Words are not expressive of one's thoughts as one's gaze is plunged into this seething abyss in which the world. reveals its inner workings, the workshop of the universe in miniature.

"There are ebullitions and the boiling

masses are thrown upward in heavy, sullen, lazy jets, falling back into the cauldron and cooling and heating into innumerable piles of red and yellow and white and black folds and masses. Except for the lack of noise, there is nothing to prevent the imagination from conjuring up the idea of a great smelting furnace for Jove; in which he fashioned the thunderbolts of the ages. Noise there is, but it is a hiss and roar and drop, without percussion.

"Sometimes the breath of Hell comes nearer the surface than at others, and then one feels the pulsing of the ribs of Mother Earth as she strains to hold in leash all the destructive elements that boil and travail within the thin crust upon which crawl and live the units of humanity. There is a feeling of insignificance, of utter powerlessness that comes to overcome even the most egotistical onlooker, and all depart impressed with the smallness of man, the limitations of his power, and the meagre knowledge he possesses of the globe he inhabits.

"The volcano must be seen in daylight in order to fully understand the wonders that have so dazed the imagination at night.

"By day the flow and the counterflow, the swish, swirl and ebullition, and the

great fire geysers, elements of the night spectacle, may be best understood. It is not that daylight spells away the mystery surrounding the night spectacle, but that some of the movements, at night, are simply Titanic pyrotechnics. The great crater of Kilauea is irregular, but nearly circular in form. It is something like three miles in length, in its longest diameter. Its walls rise approximately a thousand feet. The floor of this crater is a great black mass risen gradually from the sides toward the center where it is highest. "The highest point is rather to southeast of the center, and the elevation is perhaps two hundred feet more than the edges. It is in this highest spot that the pit of Halemaumau drops, when the volcano is inactive, to a depth of a thousand feet. The pit of Halemaumau is also an irregular circle, a miniature of the greater crater. Its diameter is estimated at from 1300 to 1800 feet. The walls rise almost vertically, and, in some parts, overhang the awful abyss. At the northeast, there is a part of the wall, which is broken, as though some giant upheaval had broken the rim of this great cup, filled with living, molten, white, red glow!

"At this time, the activity of the volcano has filled Halemaumau up to within 150 feet of the top, but this will recede when the present eruption ceases. Just think of this tremendous mass of liquid

molten matter. It is more than probable that, as I stand and look into the mass, I am standing over a great cone of fire, and that the base is much larger than the top, and that the cooling process has made this rim and that the whole of the mountain cap is undermined by this melted lava. The fresh supply of molten matter comes up so constantly in the center of the pit that it leads one to believe that the ebullition is not of new matter, and that the myriads of spouts and geysers are but the manifestations of boiling, just as in miniature the sides of a pot of mush will give evidence of boiling when the flame of the stove strikes but the center of the pan. The middle part of the pit, with its constant discharge, has been called 'Old Faithful.'

"It is reasonable to suppose from what may be seen that the source of supply, or the channel through which is blown up the lava, is of restricted area. In the center the supply is so constant, that, although it covers one-third of the surface of the pit, it is never wholly blackened, but always at red heat. The blackened spots are constantly changing and broken up and remelted into the fiery glow by the movement of the lava. Lava cools, blackens and hardens very rapidly. The drop of a very few degrees on the surface forms a black crust like a coating of ice. At this time the lake of liquid lava forms a gigantic figure eight, and around this central

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lake, in cooling, the lava has built a wall for itself. In the night, this may not be seen, but in daylight it is easily discernible. As I stand and look at it, it is probably fifteen feet, at least, above the level of the immediately surrounding lava. This lake of hottest lava may be compared to a great saucer with its center liquid and living, and the sides hard, black and barrier-like.

"This process of wall-building goes on until the sides are so high and so thin in places that the lateral pressure makes a break and then there is a stream of lava spreading out over the floor of the pit, that is usually dark. The whole thing seems as though the hand of a Titan were pressing, squeezing and forcing the very shell of the earth until it gives forth its fires and its liquids.

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"There are other manifestations of the seemingly squeezing process that are seen in the occasional spout or geysers-when great jets fly upward from unexpected sources, and fall back in graceful cascades of sparks and light.

"This is probably the escape of gas. Accompanying the phenomena is the roar and the swish and swirl of waters, the noise and hiss and the sputter of vapors and melting slag and rock. It is difficult to express in detail the magnificence of such a scene, as it seems almost impossible to segregate the various elements that go to make the most tremendous tableaux furnished by Nature for man's delectation.

tion and the portal which guards the way to this paradise of the Pacific seas.

From the deck of the ocean liner, Honolulu gives a glimpse of the spell it holds out to the sojourner. The spell of tropical splendor, tempered in heat of climate by its setting in a tranquil sea. From Punchbowl Hill the spectator is given his best view of the oceanic metropolis and the key city of the Pacific.

Here at an altitude of five hundred feet one looks down upon tree-lined streets, and flowery gardens, whose foliage half-conceals and yet reveals the homes of the people. Hidden beneath the draperies of foliage, in form and color SO different from that of Northern clime, are magnifi

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cent palaces, stately mansions and homelike, inviting cottages or bungalows. In the distance is Dimond Head, that retains its form and outlines from whatever point it is viewed. Beyond it are glimpses of lesser headlands and the glimmering of the sea. Across the throbbing waters, the eye sights dimly the speck in the distance, the island of Molokai, the home of the physical outcast, the leper. About are great areas of green waving cocoas and banana groves. Here and there a silvery shimmering tells of mirror-like lakelets and running streams. From out of the meshings of foliage the famous buildings of the city stand in relief. There is the Lunalilo Home for the Aged Hawaiians,

realities, is the advance guard of the mountainous range in the background, and within whose circling arms the city rests secure.

The mountain of the viewpoint is almost precipitous in its frontal wall, and the bowl-formed counter of its summit tells of it having been in the ages past a mighty factor in creation's toil. In the distance are distinctly outlined the cavities of earth from where came forth the molten flow to form these shores. Ver

dure, the hue of peace, adorns where steam hissed forth and lava lashed in anger and in fury of restraint. Active volcanoes still ebb and flow on these islands of world wonders lulled in temper, but

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