be afraid of father seeing thee so smart?"

We soon perceived that he and mother, whilst adhering to their rule of life, did

From The Leisure Hour.

THE KRAKATOA ERUPTION.

CHAPLAIN AT BATAVIA.

IV.

LEAVING Bantam Bay-a spot more beautiful than healthy-behind us, we retraced our steps to the little town of Serang. It was a long, dark drive, and we were very thankful when our tired ponies brought us back once more to the

not obtrude it on their visitor. They BY THE REV. PHILIP NEALE, LATE BRITISH offered her the best that their house con. tained, and in her honor gave little entertainments to "worldly people" of their acquaintance. At a farewell party we did not admire a tall, thin lady introduced to our sober family circle as aunt's travelling companion to London, with mincing ways and sentimental drawl, in a gauzy transparent costume, but approved of aunt, a stately lady in rich silk gown and elabo-friendly shelter of the hotel from which rate turban of gold tissue; being still more impressed by mother's calm selfpossession, and the quiet grace with which she maintained in her brown camlet and white muslin cap her peculiarities as a Friend her soft silk gowns of neutral tints were carefully folded away on the shelves of her wardrobe, for father disapproved of silk.

In the following November a great event occurred, a baby sister was born, and called Emma. We had hitherto been two sisters, now we were three. Our astonishment and delight over the sweet, blue-eyed little creature was unbounded. Eighteen months quietly passed away, and again fresh surprises awaited us. One First-day at the close of afternoon meeting our parents were mysteriously summoned from the meeting-house door to visit father's old half-brother, Joseph, who, being a confirmed invalid for many years, we had never seen. An hour later, we two children were fetched from home, and taken for the first time into a large, gloomy house, along mysterious passages, into a dimly lighted chamber. Our par ents were sitting there in solemn silence on either side of an armchair, in which reclined a large-limbed but fearfully emaciated, pallid old man. We were taken up to him, he spoke to us in a feeble, husky voice, then, like an aged patriarch, placed a trembling hand on each of our heads and blessed us. We were then quietly led away, our parents remaining with him.

The next morning we were told that Uncle Joseph had died in the night; a few mornings later that a little brother had been born to us the preceding night. And amidst the amazement and yet undeveloped joy involuntarily arose the question, Will our parents like it? for we had the impression that they did not approve of boys. The doubt speedily vanished; their infant son, who was named Charles, was evidently their peculiar pride and delight.

we had started in the afternoon, and which we had then arranged should be our resting-place for the night. The Dutch have a fancy for dining late in the evening generally about eight or half past and so there was plenty of time to wait before dinner was announced. When at length it came we had the novelty of dining off Bantam fowls, reared in their own native district. It did not take us long to come to the conclusion that, whatever their merits for breeding purposes may be, Bantam fowls are no better on a din ner table than any other, and to hungry travellers like ourselves they certainly had the serious drawback of being very diminutive in size.

Knowing that a hard day's work awaited us on the morrow, combined with a very early start, we were soon glad to creep into our mosquito-curtained beds, and get a good night's rest. The thermometer was at its normal height of nocturnal heat (about 80°). It naturally sounds rather too hot to be pleasant, but it is surprising how very soon one gets accustomed to sleeping in such a high temperature, espe cially considering the moist, clammy heat which prevails in all parts of Java. It may be that this is owing to the even range of the thermometer throughout the year, which never alters in either summer or winter if tropical seasons can be so designated or it may be owing to the lofty and well-ventilated character of the sleeping apartments; but certain it is that good, sound, refreshing sleep can be had in Java far more regularly than one would expect. At any rate, on this occasion we found the night far too short, for it was scarcely four o'clock when we were sum. moned to prepare for our second day of exploration.

By the light of a kerosene lamp we sat down — long before daybreak — to a wretched breakfast. It consisted of bread and butter, cold eggs, which had been cooked over night, and a trifle stale as well,

while, instead of tea or coffee, the only beverage provided was soda-water, calied by the natives, on account of its effervescing nature, ayer blanda, or fire-water. With such untempting viands before us we did not linger long over our morning meal, and it was still quite dark when we made our start. The first part of our journey lay along the main post-road once more, and so our travelling carriage of the previous day was again brought into use. Our Batavian driver was still on the box, but the ponies and runners were proIvided fresh for each stage. A little awkwardness occurred here with one of the ponies. The Serang stables had pro duced an animal notorious for jibbingone which, as the driver told us, would rather be cut to pieces than make the journey to Kramat-watoe and it was only after some trouble and delay that a start was effected. However, when once our team was off there was no cause for complaint, and the next halting-stage was reached in less than half an hour.

Whilst the choice of a suitable conveyance was being made we had been waiting in the hotel at Tji-legon, a building which bore serious traces of the damage caused by the eruption. This hotel, in its management, brings a remarkable Java custom to light. It is kept up at the expense of the Dutch government, and is under the direction of an official appointed by them. In this and other remote districts of the island, where there are not sufficient travellers to make it worth a man's while to become an hotel-keeper, the government undertakes the management of the estab lishment, and bears whatever annual loss there may be. Owing to this piece of forethought, the traveller in Java frequently meets with some of the best accommodation in the most unlikely districts. The official in charge showed us the marks, both inside and outside the building, which the eruption had caused. The pillars in the front portico were injured considerably, and the heavy ash rain had left some ugly stains on many parts of the whitewashed walls and outside verandahs. The darkness on the two days of the outburst had been intense, and we were told that the abject terror of the natives in the village and neighborhood had been piteous to see.

On my way to Merak I had for my companion in the ka har a young man from Anjer - one of the few who escaped on the fatal morning. He had been directed to meet us at Serang on the previ ous afternoon, and now acted as our guide for the day. The narrative of his escape was full of interest, and some parts of it, I think, are worth being repeated.

It was now almost light, so rapidly does the sun seem to rise in the tropics. From total darkness to perfect daylight there is only an interval of three-quarters of an hour. And there is just the same rapid change in the evening after sunset, there being scarcely any twilight. At Tji-legon, at the end of the second stage from Serang, we came to the last of our posting. We could go no farther, for the best of all reasons, "because there was no road," as a Dutch official naïvely informed us, and on further inquiry we learnt that on the two remaining stages so much damage had been done as to render posting quite out of the question. We therefore had "On the Monday morning on which once more to exchange our comfortable Anjer was destroyed," he said, "I had a travelling carriage for the inconvenient suspicion that something dreadful was conveyance to which I have before re likely to happen. Of course I had no ferred the native ka-har. The vehicles clear idea on the subject, and never for a in this district presented a most dilapi- moment supposed that it would be a great dated and broken down appearance, with wave that would do all the mischief. ponies to match; but of course Krakatoa had heard the deafening reports from Krais not to be saddled with the blame of katoa on Sunday afternoon, and had seen this. Broken springs, rotten harness, and later on the dense black smoke and the worn-out ponies gave one the impression glare of fiery light resting upon the sumthat they had fared very badly in the re-mit of the volcano. Still we all hoped for cent eruption, but one of the owners the best. But on the following morning, regretfully assured us that such was not the case, or else he should have had a heavy claim for compensation from the Relief Committee. Aided by the mandoer (or head waiter) of the hotel, we made a bargain for the best two vehicles in the place, and prepared to start off in the direction of one of the ruined towns called Merak.

I

when the darkness remained instead of light, and the shower of ashes increased, I grew more alarmed. It seemed to me that if matters got worse we should be completely buried by falling lava, as some of the places in olden times were, and that a dreadful death awaited us if we remained in the town. I therefore thought it best to get as far away from

side our three miles' drive in the ka-har | The road had completely disappeared, and seemed quickly over. And now at a turn there was no track or footpath in its place. in the road the scene of destruction sud- Fallen trees lay everywhere, and every denly came in view. Descending a little few yards they had to be scrambled over. hill, we came into level country, and saw By many a détour we tried to avoid the at a glance the terrible havoc which the masses of fallen débris, and frequently inundation had caused. First came the these too had to be scaled, or else all destroyed roadway. The well-made road further progress would have been stopped. from Batavia to Merak - on which we Mile after mile we slowly picked our had thus far travelled -now came to an way amid these melancholy surroundabrupt ending. Its metalled track had ings. Here and there we found ourselves suddenly disappeared, partly washed away hemmed in by pools of water, left in the at first, and a little farther on completely hollows after the wave had receded. swept away. A ruined bridge was all that Whenever possible we waded through remained to show where once the road these, or if too deep for fording a long had been. Our ka-har could now proceed circuit had to be made. no farther, and the rest of our exploration had to be performed on foot. We were still several miles from the coast, but all the land between us was perfectly bare of timber. A few weeks before, the whole of the country we were gazing on was one dense forest of cocoanut palms, and be neath the shelter of tropical vegetation scores of native kampongs nestled, inhabited by many thousands of busy people. And now this immense district-fifteen miles long and four or five in width was so completely ruined as to be nothing more or less than a huge cemetery. What a change had come over that thriving district on the western shore of Java in so short a period! The palm-trees were all thrown down without a single exception torn up by the roots, lying in endless confusion one above another. The native houses made of their frail materials of bamboo and leaves were now on the ground, just as the receding waters had left them. Beneath the fallen débris lay all kinds of smashed furniture, broken utensils, doors wrenched from their hinges, and every article of native costume in one great indescribable mass.

A more awful sight could scarcely be imagined. One great matter for thankfulness, as the fierce rays of a tropical sun beat down upon us, was that nearly all the bodies had been recovered and buried. It was well for us that our visit had not been made earlier, or else the sight would have been a still more terrible one. Now and again we detected decomposing matter near us, and the Malays who were accompanying us said that probably many a body still lay concealed beneath the immense fallen masses which lay on each side of us, and which they had not yet had time to examine. Closely following our guides, we made our way very slowly through the ruined district. A rougher piece of walking I never experienced. VOL. LI, 2652

LIVING AGE.

But one of the most remarkable facts concerning the inundation remains to be told. As we walked or scrambled along we were much surprised to find great masses of white coral rock lying at the side of our path in every direction. Some of these were of immense size, and had been cast up more than two or three miles from the seashore. It was evident, as they were of coral formation, that these immense blocks of solid rock had been torn up from their ocean bed in the midst of the Soenda Straits, borne inland by the gigantic wave, and finally left on the land several miles from the shore. Any one who had not seen the sight would scarcely credit the story. The feat seems an al most impossible one. How these great masses could have been carried so far into the interior is a mystery, and bears out what I have said in previous papers as to the height of this terrible wave. Many of these rocks were from twenty to thirty tons in weight, and some of the largest must have been nearly double. Lloyd's agent, who was with me, agreed in think ing that we could not be mistaken if we put down the largest block of coral rock that we passed, as weighing not less than fifty tons.

It seems very hard to imagine what a great volume of water would be required to carry such heavy masses so far into the adjacent country. The force with which they had met obstructions was very noticeable in several instances. In one case a bridge had been ruined by being thus struck. The keystone of the arch carrying the road over a little stream had been struck by a piece of rock some twenty tons in weight, and this mass had split the brickwork right through the cen tre just like a wedge, and lay finally jammed in half across the road. It is not at all probable that some of the larger of these coral blocks will ever be moved

from the spots where the receding waters | vast majority of the bourgeoisie whom he have left them, and they will thus remain and his companions devoted to destruca standing memorial of the Krakatoa disaster in August, 1883. To scientific men they will naturally be objects of no little interest, as being an index, to some extent, of the power which water has as an element of destruction, and also as gauging the immense height of the unparalleled volcanic wave.