It is impossible to accent sufficiently the importance of the discovery of a measured swelling and slumping of a volcano throughout a lava crisis occupying fifteen years. It was so tremendous that critical engineers in Washington refused to believe Wilson’s results. However, his findings were verified by the contemporaneous lava measurement results, earthquake enumerations, and tilt meter results. These showed that earthquake frequency increased when Kilauea slumped and that a lava mountain had swelled until it was three feet higher at the summit in ten years and had contracted by a larger amount during the years of an explosive eruption period immediately thereafter. This all agrees with the excellent results in Omori’s volcanic and seismic events, obtained by Japanese army and navy engineers at several volcanoes and earthquakes. It also agrees with the positive facts of Vesuvius and the Canary Islands, starting with the controversy about “elevation craters” started by Leopold von Buch in the first half of the nineteenth century and carried forward by Mercalli on Vesuvius in 1894 when a lava hill was seen to swell up. There, too, others would not believe. The opposition always insisted that a volcano was built by heaped material, that it could not possibly swell. Wilson’s results are far-reaching, for the whole of geology depends on uplift of continents and downsinking of sedimentary basins. Most geologists account for these things by the theory of weighting and underflow at a thin crust (isostasy), refusing to grant that volcanic heat and tumefaction yield intrusive power everywhere through cracks in the deeper crust. I wish that I could describe adequately the high adventure of this fruitful time. We built a vehicle from a model T Ford with a Ruckstell axle, stripped of mudguards and equipped with balloon tires doubled at the rear, so as to travel and carry loads over the smooth pahoehoe of the Kilauea floor. We found that a powerful light rig of this type, with excessively low gear, could climb up on lava lobes one to two feet high. But this called for experienced driving and special methods. Sending a man on foot ahead to pick a way and to drag a crowbar which scratched a track, we could drive anywhere on the lava. And we used this rig to haul drums of water and drill apparatus. I once drove artillery officers out over the rough floor of the crater, and afterwards saw similar cars used by the army in the first World War as cross-country transportation for the doctors and wounded in No Man’s Land. Before a roadway encircled Kilauea Crater, Mr. Finch and I, carrying two-inch planks for bridging cracks, made the complete circuit of the crater by way of the rifted Kau Desert in our special vehicle, which has now been succeeded by the jeep, the most universal vehicle of World War II. Volcanology prospected the field of war in more ways than one, so I named my popular book “Volcanoes declare war.”