A steamer was got ready; a number of sightseeing enthusiasts were
collected, and they set forth on the morning of the 26th of May. Among
these excursionists was our friend Captain David Roy--not that _he_ was
addicted to running about in search of "fun," but, being unavoidably
thrown idle at the time, and having a poetical turn of mind--derived
from his wife--he thought he could not do better than take a run to the
volcano and see how his son was getting along.

The party reached the scene of the eruption on the morning of the 27th,
having witnessed during the night several tolerably strong explosions,
which were accompanied by earthquake shocks. It was found that Krakatoa
and all the adjoining islands were covered with a fine white dust, like
snow, and that the trees on the northern part of the former island and
Varlaten had been to a great extent deprived of their leaves and
branches by falling pumice, while those on Lang Island and Polish Hat,
as well as those on the Peak of Rakata, had to a great extent
escaped--no doubt owing to the prevailing direction of the wind.

It was soon seen that Perboewatan on Krakatoa was the cone in active
eruption, and the steamer made for its neighbourhood, landing her party
within a short distance of its base. Explosions were occurring at
intervals of from five to ten minutes. Each explosion being accompanied
by an uncovering of the molten lava in the vent, the overhanging
steam-cloud was lighted up with a grand glow for a few seconds. Some of
the party, who seemed to be authorities on such matters, estimated that
the vapour-column rose to a height of nearly 10,000 feet, and that
fragments of pumice were shot upwards to a height of 600 feet.

"That's a sign that the violence of the eruption is diminished,"