But it was the panorama spread out like a model beneath our feet which arrested attention and impressed one most. We stood on the edge of an enormous crater--the Teng'ger--with a circumference of fifteen miles. Where, in prehistoric times, flames and ashes and lava had boiled and belched, there was now a sea of yellow sand, out of which stood other three volcano peaks--the Battok, the Bromo, and the Widodarèn--showing purple in the morning light. The Battok is a perfect cone, the lava-covered sides standing out in clearly defined ridges like the buttresses of a Gothic structure. The Bromo is the only one of the three now active. As we gaze down, we are startled by a deep groaning noise, and out of the wide crater mouth there issues a mass of grey smoke and ashes laden and streaked with fire. Simultaneously, a huge mass of cloud, cruciform in shape, is shot up hundreds of feet into the air from the Semeroe. It rests a few seconds above the bare, ash-strewn cone, and then drifts heavily to westward, to make way for the next eruption.
[Illustration: SAND SEA, WITH BROMO AND SEMEROE.]
These indications of Nature's activity in the crucible at the earth's centre make one reflect on the possible consequences of the next great convulsion, and the fate that is in store for those intrepid villagers who have perched their primitive huts on the very edge of the Teng'ger crater. With these reflections, we turn away from one of the most solemn and impressive sights it has been our privilege to witness, silently mount our pony and retrace our steps for the snugly-situated Hotel at Tosari, no longer regretting, nay, rather thankful, that we had resolved and achieved our resolution to climb the Penandjaan Pass to see the sun rise.
Before going to Java, the tourist ought to make himself acquainted with the outlines of the history of the island since it came under European domination. Half the charm of European travel, if one is something more than a mere unreflective globetrotter, lies in the historic associations of the places visited, and it is the comparative absence of this quality which robs new countries of the interests they would otherwise possess for educated people. Scenery alone surfeits the appetite.