thern half of the island of Maui.

The popular translation of the name Haleakala is "The House of the Sun";
literally the word means "The House Built by the Sun." The volcano is a
monster of more than ten thousand feet, which bears upon its summit a
crater of a size and beauty that make it one of the world's show-places.
This crater is seven and a half miles long by two and a third miles
wide. Only three known craters exceed Haleakala's in size. Aso san, the
monster crater of Japan, largest by far in the world, is fourteen miles
long by ten wide and contains many farms. Lago di Bolseno, in Italy,
next in size, measures eight and a half by seven and a half miles; and
Monte Albano, also in Italy, eight by seven miles.

Exchanging your automobile for a saddle-horse at the volcano's foot, you
spend the afternoon in the ascent. Wonderful indeed, looking back, is
the growing arc of plantation and sea, islands growing upon the horizon,
Mauna Kea and Mauna Loa lifting distant snow-tipped peaks. You spend the
night in a rest-house on the rim of the crater, but not until you have
seen the spectacle of sunset; and in the gray of the morning you are
summoned to the supreme spectacle of sunrise. Thousands have crossed
seas for Haleakala's sunrise.

That first view of the crater from the rim is one never to be forgotten.
Its floor lies two thousand feet below, an enormous rainless, rolling
plain from which rise thirteen volcanic cones, clean-cut, as regular in
form as carven things. Several of these are seven hundred feet in
height. "It must have been awe-inspiring," writes Castle, "when its
cones were spouting fire, and rivers of scarlet molten lava crawled
along the floor."

The stillness of this spot emphasizes its emotional effect. A word
spoken ordinarily loud is like a shout. You can hear the footsteps of
the goats far down upon the crater floor. Upon this floor grow plants
known nowhere else; they are famous under the name of Silver
Swords--yucca-like growths three or four feet high whose drooping
filaments of bloom gleam like polished silver stilettos.

When Mark Twain saw the crater, "vagrant white clouds came drifting
along, high over the sea and valley; then they came in couples and
groups; then in imposing squadrons; gradually joining their forces, they
banked themselves solidly together a thousand feet under us and totally
shut out land and ocean; not a vestige of anything was left in view, but
just a little of the