"At night, everything is changed; and you can't conceive of the
lurid, demoniacal effect. Each slender column of smoke becomes
a pillar of fire that rolls upward, throbbing as it moves, and
spreads itself out above the crater like an immense canopy, all
ablaze.
"Ships a hundred miles from land see the glow, and we here, on the
precipice above, can read ordinary print by its lurid light.
"No wonder the natives worshiped the volcano. They thought it the
home of a goddess, whom they named Pele, and in times of unusual
activity believed her to be very angry with them. Then they came
in long processions, from the seashore villages, bringing pigs,
dogs, fowls, and sometimes human beings, for sacrifice. These they
threw into the crater, to appease her wrath.
"A small berry, called the ohelo, grows on the banks of the pit,
and of these the natives never dared to eat until Pele had first
had her share. Very polite, were they not? And if ever they
forgot their manners, I dare say she gave them a shaking up by an
earthquake, as a reminder.
Pages:
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68