Sometimes The Whole Lake, Abandoning Its Usual Centripetal Motion, As If Impelled Southwards, Took The Form Of Mighty Waves, And Surging Heavily Against The Partial Barrier With A Sound Like The Pacific Surf, Lashed, Tore, Covered It, And Threw Itself Over It In Clots Of Living Fire.

It was all confusion, commotion, force, terror, glory, majesty, mystery, and even beauty.

And the colour! "Eye hath not seen" it! Molten metal has not that crimson gleam, nor blood that living light! Had I not seen this I should never have known that such a colour was possible.

The crust perpetually wrinkled, folded over, and cracked, and great pieces were drawn downwards to be again thrown up on the crests of waves. The eleven fountains of gory fire played the greater part of the time, dancing round the lake with a strength of joyousness which was absolute beauty. Indeed after the first half hour of terror had gone by, the beauty of these jets made a profound impression upon me, and the sight of them must always remain one of the most fascinating recollections of my life. During three hours, the bank of lava which almost divided the lakes rose considerably, owing to the cooling of the spray as it dashed over it, and a cavern of considerable size was formed within it, the roof of which was hung with fiery stalactites, more than a foot long. Nearly the whole time the surges of the further lake taking a southerly direction, broke with a tremendous noise on the bold craggy cliffs which are its southern boundary, throwing their gory spray to a height of fully forty feet.

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