Bromo, the most
famous of the great volcanoes of Eastern Java, but as there is no
harbor, only a shallow, unprotected roadstead, it was necessary for
the _Negros_ to anchor nearly three miles offshore. So shallow is the
water, indeed, that it is a common sight at low tide to see the native
fishermen standing knee-deep in the sea a mile from land. Until quite
recently debarkation at Pasuruan was an extremely uncomfortable and
undignified proceeding, the passengers on the infrequent vessels which
touch there being carried ashore astride of a rail borne on the
shoulders of two natives. A coat of tar and feathers was all that was
needed to make the passenger feel that he was a victim of the Ku Klux
Klan. But a narrow channel has now been dredged through the sand-bar so
that row-boats and launches of shallow draught can make their way up
the squdgy creek to the custom house at high tide.

Until half a century ago Pasuruan was counted as one of the four great
cities of Java, but with the extension of the railway system throughout
the island and the development of the harbor at Surabaya, forty miles
away, its importance steadily diminished, though traces of its one-time
prosperity are still visible in its fine streets and beautiful houses,
most of which, however, are now occupied by Chinese. Perhaps the most
interesting feature of the place today is found in the costumes of the
native women, particularly the girls, who wear a kind of shirt and veil
combining all the colors of the rainbow.

From Pasuruan to Tosari, which is a celebrated hill-station and the
gateway to the volcanoes of eastern Java, is about twenty-five miles,
with an excellent motor road all the way. For the first ten miles the
road, here a wide avenue shaded by tamarinds and djati trees, runs
across a steaming plain, between fields of rice and cane, but after
Pasrepan the ascent of the mountains begins. The highway now becomes
extremely steep and narrow, with countless hairpin turns, though all
danger of collision is eliminated by the regulations which permit no
down-traffic in the morning and no up-traffic in the afternoon. During
the final fifteen miles, in which is made an ascent of more than six
thousand feet, one has the curious experience of passing, in a single
hour, from the torrid to the temperate zone. In the earlier stages of
the ascent the road zigzags upward through magnificent tropical
forests, where troops of huge gray apes chatter in the uppe