was exhausted in describing Kilauea.

Suddenly, just above, and in front of us, gory drops were tossed in
air, and springing forwards we stood on the brink of Hale-mau-mau,
which was about 35 feet below us. I think we all screamed, I know
we all wept, but we were speechless, for a new glory and terror had
been added to the earth. It is the most unutterable of wonderful
things. The words of common speech are quite useless. It is
unimaginable, indescribable, a sight to remember for ever, a sight
which at once took possession of every faculty of sense and soul,
removing one altogether out of the range of ordinary life. Here was
the real "bottomless pit"--the "fire which is not quenched"--"the
place of hell"--"the lake which burneth with fire and brimstone"--
the "everlasting burnings"--the fiery sea whose waves are never
weary. There were groanings, rumblings, and detonations, rushings,
hissings, and splashings, and the crashing sound of breakers on the
coast, but it was the surging of fiery waves upon a fiery shore.
But what can I write! Such words as jets, fountains, waves, spray,
convey some idea of order and regularity, but here there was none.
The inner lake, while we stood there, formed a sort of crater within
itself, the whole lava sea rose about three feet, a blowing cone
about eight feet high was formed, it was never the same two minutes
together. And what we saw had no existence a month ago, and
probably will be changed in every essential feature a month hence.

What we did see was one irregularly-shaped lake, possibly 500 feet
wide at its narrowest part and nearly half a mile at its broadest,
almost divided into two by a low bank of lava, which extended nearly
across it where it was narrowest, and which was raised visibly
before our eyes. The sides of the nearest part of the lake were