perfect resemblance of the plain which at that time formed the bottom of the great crater of Vesuvius.
As the morning advanced the light increased, and some time before sunrise we had completed the tour of the top of the great crater. Then followed that glorious sight—the sun when seen rising from the top of some lofty mountain.
I now began to speculate upon the means of getting a nearer view of the little miniature volcano in action at one corner of the gulf beneath us. We had brought ropes with us, and I had observed, in our tour round the crater, every dike of congealed lava by which the massive cone was split. These presented buttresses with frequent ledges or huge steps by which I hoped, with the aid of ropes, to descend into the Tartarus below.
Having consulted with our chief guide Salvatori, I found that he was unwilling to accompany us, and proposed remaining with the other guides on the upper edge of the crater. Upon the whole, I was not discontented with the arrangement, because it left a responsible person to keep the other guides in order, and also sufficient force to lift us up bodily by the ropes if that should become necessary.
The abruptness of the rocky buttresses compelled us to use ropes, but the attempt to traverse the steep inclines of light ashes and of fine sand would have been more dangerous from the risk of being engulfed in them.
Having well examined the several disadvantages of these rough-hewn irregular Titanic stairs, I selected one which seemed the most promising for facilitating our descent into the crater. I was encumbered with one of Troughton's heavy barometers, strapped to my back, looking much like Cupid's quiver, though probably rather heavier. In my pocket I had an excellent box sextant, and in a rough kind of basket
