Torrey's Narrative; or, The Life and Adventures of William TorreyTorrey, William
History
Torrey's Narrative; or, The Life and Adventures of William Torrey
Torrey, William
Marquesas Islands (French Polynesia); Seafaring life
The descent was as perilous as it had been represented,
but by proceeding with great caution, testing well
the safety of every step before committing our weight
to it, and often stopping to select the course which
seemed least hazardous, in the space of about twenty
minutes, by a zigzag way, we reached the bottom
without any accident of greater amount than a few
scratches on the hands from the sharpness and roughness
of the lava, by which we had occasionally been
obliged to support ourselves. When we were about half
way down we were encouraged to persevere in our undertaking,
by meeting a native who had descended on
the opposite side and passed over. It was only however
from the renewed assurance it gave of the practicability
of the attempt, for besides being greatly fatigued, he
was much cut and bruised from a fall; said the bottom
was "ino-ino loaka wahi O debelo!"—"excessively
bad the place of the devil!"—and could be prevailed
on to return with us only by the promise of a large reward.
It is difficult to say whether sensations of admiration
or of terror predominated, on reaching the bottom of
this tremendous spot. As I looked up at the gigantic
wall, which on every side rose to the very clouds, I felt
oppressed to a most unpleasant degree, by a sense of
confinement.
Either from the influence of imagination, or from the
actual effect of the immense power of a noonday sun
beating directly on us, in addition to the heated and[75]
sulphureous atmosphere of the volcano itself, I for some
moments experienced an agitation of spirits, and difficulty
of respiration, that made me cast a look of wishful
anxiety towards our little hut, which, at an elevation
of near fifteen hundred feet seemed only like a bird's
nest on the opposite cliff. These emotions, however,
soon passed off, and we began with great spirit and activity,
the enterprise before us. I can compare the general
aspect of the bottom of the crater, to nothing that
will give a livelier image of it to the mind than the appearance
of a lake would present, if the ice with which
it was covered in the winter was suddenly broken up
by a heavy storm, and as suddenly frozen again, while
large slabs and blocks were still toppling and dashing
and heaping against each other with the motion of the
waves. Just so rough and distorted was the black mass
under our feet, only a hundred fold more terrific, independently
of the innumerable cracks, fissures, deep
chasms and holes, from which sulphureous vapor, steam
and smoke were exhaled, with a degree of heat that
testified to the near vicinity of fire.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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