[Note: this transcription was produced by an automatic OCR engine]

AMBRYM 2 I 7

the zenith, its foot still in the red glare. Slowly
the fire dies out, the cloud parts, and it is dark
night again, with the silver of the moon brooding
everywhere.

But the charm is broken by this warning from
the primitive powers that counterbalance each other
behind the peace of the tropic night. By and by, one
grows accustomed to the uncanny neighbourhood of
the volcano, and only the more formidable eruptions
attract notice. Sometimes, while at work, I hear
one of the boys exclaim, “Huh, huh!” to call my
attention to the fact that a particularly violent out-
break haS» taken place; and, indeed, half the sky is
a dirty red, the smoke rises behind the trees as if
from a gigantic bonfire, and the dull detonations
resound. The glowing lava flies high in the air, and
comes down in a great curve. One of these perform-
ances lasted several hours, presaging a wonderful
spectacle for my visit to the volcano, which was set
for the next day.

Several natives joined my party, evidently thinking
it safer to go to see the “fire” in my company than
alone. Yet the Ambrymese in general show remark-
ably little fear of the volcano, and regard it as a
powerful but somewhat clumsy and rather harmless
neighbour, whereas on other islands legend places
the entrance to hell in the craters.

Quite a company of us marched through the
forest, accompanied by the cannonading of the
volcano; we felt as if we were going to battle. We
traversed the plain and mounted the foot-hills; half-