Page:Once a Week Volume 8.djvu/694

 686 Placesplaces [sic] a mile in width. The fatal stream had occupied eight days in passing from the mountain to the sea, yet still it rolled on, hot to redness, and irresistible in power. The first intimation that the unfortunate inhabitants had received was about midnight, when the tumultuous roaring of the fire first warned them of their fate. Many were surrounded, and perished in the liquid rocks, before they had time to escape, and all who survived saw not only their habitations but their means of living taken from them. The burning stream came steadily on. The village disappeared. The largest trees fell prostrate, and were lost before the all-devouring torrent, till at last, plunging forward with terrible force, it leaped over the last precipice, the very rocks melting before it, and rolled into the sea. The waters yielded, clouds of spray shot up, and steam and vapour filled the atmosphere, myriads of explosions shook the earth, and, with the hissing and struggling of the waters, made known the furious contest between these two opposing elements. Soon the little bay, that had been so short a time before a scene of industry and profit to many, became one sea of liquid lava. The ocean delivered up vast numbers of fish that had perished in the boiling surge, and even for many weeks afterwards, as we heard, the waters remained in a state of insufferable heat. The scene was grand, but most fearful. The complete, the utter desolation; the warring struggle between fire and water, the thundering tumult; the murky, deathly atmosphere,—all combined to produce an effect which only those who have witnessed such a spectacle can contemplate.

We remained in the neighbourhood of Wainanalii only one day, and then returned to the mountain. By the 8th of February the eruption had become less formidable, and, with a strong party of natives, we prepared to ascend to the crater. This destination we reached on the second day, the first part of our journey having been rendered tedious by a want of water. Early on the morning of the 10th we found ourselves in close proximity to the active craters, and from our station, somewhat above them, had a fine view of the locality. The fount of fiery lava had now ceased; but, with a crashing, surging noise, vast volumes of ashes, stones, and solid rock were being hurled from the interior of the volcano in a cloud of smoke and steam. Pouring from the lips of the craters were streams of red-hot molten lava, which waved and rolled and leaped with fiery spray down the mountain sides; and only half a mile away, vast fields of ice and snow contrasted strangely with the burning sea beneath. We noticed three craters, two of considerable extent, and one smaller, besides numberless holes through which steam and sulphureous gases were violently spouting forth, deadening all other sounds, and poisoning the atmosphere around. In various places, too, were pools of liquid silver, bubbling and foaming with a dull jingling sound, as though slowly and sullenly coming to repose after the mighty conflict.

We descended, following, as nearly as our safety would allow, the course of one of the principal streams of lava. At first it was bright white, flowing as water, and passing down with immense velocity, bounding over the rocks and lashing against opposing obstacles like the waves of the sea, now thundering on with unimpeded violence, now mounting up in molten spray, to fall in fiery showers into the stream again. As we got lower down the mountain, it lost much of its fluidity. Instead of a gleaming white, it now assumed a rosy tint, soon to pass on into a brilliant crimson. A thin flaky solidity now appeared upon the surface, and as this became thicker the current seemed stayed; but if the crust were broken the delusion disappeared, and through the aperture was seen the molten torrent hurrying onward with unaltered progress.

We now hastened downwards, and returned home on the day after our descent, with feelings very different to any we had before experienced, and which, if any would properly appreciate, they must pay a visit in the wild island of the Pacific—to the truly magnificent Mauna Loa. L. E. E.

Logan Braes, by shores of Dee,

There lived three sisters fair to see:—

The first had locks of raven hair,

And smile to make a seraph swear!

The next had eyes of bonny blue,

Like chinks to let the sunlight through;—

But oh, the third,—the third was such,

I thrilled and throbbed beneath her touch!

The first was false for golden shame,

She married a miser old and lame;

The second she sinned with Lord Clanrone,

And now she lieth in churchyard lone;

The other lives on, but better, ’tis said,

For the weal of her soul if she were dead.

O Kate, my hinny, how fares’t wi’ thee?

Are thy children bonny and blythe to see?

Ah well, good lack! no child, I ween,

In this lone house has e’er been seen.

And thou, poor Marion, foolish lass,

How fares’t with thee in the churchyard grass?

Is this thy dwelling, so cold and dim?

’Tis Death has taken thee home with him!

Ah, many a cottager’s hut, I wis,

Were a happier home for thee than this.

Think of it, lord! and rend thy hair;

Thy crime has wrought this child’s despair

Had’st thou been true to love’s dear debt,

This grass—this grave were empty yet!

Of three fair sisters, two survive;

Yet both, God wot, have sins to shrive:

The one has bartered her peace for pelf,

The other for shame has sold herself.

Of all the three it were better to be

The corpse beneath the Churchyard Tree!