across. Dashing against the cliffs on the opposite side, with a noise
like the roar of a stormy ocean, waves of blood-red, fiery, liquid
lava hurled their billows upon an iron-bound headland, and then rushed
up the face of the cliffs to toss their gory spray high in the air.
The restless, heaving lake boiled and bubbled, never remaining the
same for two minutes together. Its normal colour seemed to be a dull
dark red, covered with a thin grey scum, which every moment and in
every part swelled and cracked, and emitted fountains, cascades, and
whirlpools of yellow and red fire, while sometimes one big golden
river, sometimes four or five, flowed across it. There was an island
on one side of the lake, which the fiery waves seemed to attack
unceasingly with relentless fury, as if bent on hurling it from its
base. On the other side was a large cavern, into which the burning
mass rushed with a loud roar, breaking down in its impetuous headlong
career the gigantic stalactites that overhung the mouth of the cave,
and flinging up the liquid material for the formation of fresh ones.

It was all terribly grand, magnificently sublime; but no words could
adequately describe such a scene. The precipice on which we were
standing overhung the crater so much that it was impossible to see
what was going on immediately beneath; but from the columns of smoke
and vapour that arose, the flames and sparks that constantly drove us
back from the edge, it was easy to imagine that there must have been
two or three grand fiery fountains below. As the sun set, and darkness
enveloped the scene, it became more awful than ever. We retired a
little way from the brink, to breathe some fresh air, and to try and
eat the food we had brought with us; but this was an impossibility.
Every instant a fresh explosion or glare made us jump up to survey the
stupendous scene. The violent struggles of the lava to escape from its
fiery bed, and the loud and awful noises by which they were at times