Читать книгу The Story of Hawaii: History, Customs, Mythology, Geography & Archaeology - Fowke Gerard - Страница 32

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According to all the rules of school geographies a volcano ought to be situated on top of a mountain; it ought to throw out stones, and ashes, and molten lava; its crater should be in the shape of an inverted cone and should emit terrifying noises; periodically it should overwhelm a village or two. Kilauea conforms to none of these specifications. Although it probably started out to make a mountain of its own, it is actually 4,000 feet above sea level on the southeastern slope of Mauna Loa. It has thrown out neither stones nor ashes since it annihilated the army that was marching against Kamehameha, almost a hundred and fifty years ago. It retains its lava within its own crater, which is not shaped like an inverted cone. The walls, on the contrary, are vertical, and the fLoor, except that it rises toward the southern part, horizontal. The sides are from 100 to 700 feet high and 7.86 miles in circumference, and the floor covers 2,650 acres. The volcano seldom makes terrifying noises—at least, of the kind heard in imagination by a schoolboy. Thousands of people descend into the crater annually, and not one has ever been injured. In fact, it is excellently behaved, not being, like Vesuvius and Etna, one of the explosive class of volcanoes.

The Volcano House stands on the northern bank of the crater, with a wonderful view across it, in clear weather, to the sea; of the great snowy mass of Mauna Loa to the west, and of the peak of Mauna Kea above the forests away to the northward. Back of it are beautiful koa forests, and some of the best masses of tree ferns to be found anywhere. The only caution to be observed in the vicinity of the crater is to walk always where the ground is visible, never to take short cuts through clumps of ferns, since the country is intersected with cracks, and the warm steam issuing from them and keeping the ground moist, usually induces heavy growth. Some of these steam-cracks are large enough to fall into, and as they are very hot a few feet down such a fall might be a serious matter. Animals have been killed in this way. Just toward the mountain from the Volcano House steam issues from banks of red earth through myriads of tiny holes, and has encrusted the banks with sulfur, brilliant yellow and white against the red, in places formed into the most delicate crystals. The separate little orifices are too hot to touch with the bare hand, but the banks are safe to walk over.

Steam is brought from them in wooden pipes to a bath-house, where one can take the most refreshing of natural Turkish baths.

The main interest naturally centres in the trip to the crater. The old approach, still advisable for good walkers, is by a path down the side, which is here broken and wooded, directly in front of the hotel. During the descent one passes under low growing lehna trees, and by many sturdy little yellow-green leaved sandalwood trees that have made their slow growth since the time of the mad exportation of sandalwood in the early nineteenth century. The walk across the floor of the crater, about two and one-half miles, is over a hard lava bed, more or less up and down, since lava hardens quickly and remains as it flowed, in great ropes and ripples. A few yards from shore—one comes naturally to call the bank " shore "—a ragged crack is crossed by a wooden bridge. At the time this crack opened a large party was in the crater. They stayed long because they were delighted with the unusual activity of the lake and had no idea that this activity extended beyond the pit of fire until at last they started to go back to the hotel. It was night, and as they approached the northern bank of the crater their lanterns suddenly revealed a huge fissure directly across their path. Already molten lava was bubbling up at the bottom. They followed the edge of the crack, keenly conscious, undoubtedly, as they turned to keep parallel with the crater wall, that they were on the inner edge. At last they found a spot where the lava had split unevenly, leaving a projecting ledge on which it was possible to stand and so to jump to the other side. The whole experience, with the thought of sinking to the fires beneath, or of being overwhelmed by the lava slowly rising in the fissure, and the utter helplessness of their situation, was enough to test the most fearless.

As the trail winds across the uneven lava one is tempted again and again to turn aside to explore some curious cone or unusual formations, but always even more tempting is the sharp black line ahead that cuts across the lazy clouds of yellow smoke. Even the afternoon colours on the mountain, the wonder of the whole great, strange crater, fail to divert attention from that black rim. Curiosity as to what is back of it, below it, overcomes all other feelings. One reaches it suddenly. It is a rim, as it looked, the rim of a profounder pit, a crater within the crater. The cavity is perhaps 1,000 feet across, and its precipitous sides lead down to a lake of molten lava several acres in extent, sometimes higher, sometimes lower in the pit. This is Halemaumau, which is commonly translated the " house of everlasting fire," but which undoubtedly means the "home of the Maumau fern," this fern having a leaf which the twisted and curled lava strongly suggests. But whatever its name, Halemaumau is certainly the centre of volcanic activity, the house of the goddess Pele.