dangerous thing, but very beautiful. It stands tall and
pointed and graceful against a lovely sky. Its little cloud waves from
it like a plume. At night the mountain is swallowed by the dark. But
the red rivers down its slopes glare in the sky. It is beautiful and
terrible like a tiger. Thousands of people have loved it. They have
climbed it and looked down its crater. It is like looking into the heart
of the earth. One of these travelers wrote of his visit in 1793. He
said:

"For many days Vesuvius has been in action. I have watched it from
Naples. It is wonderfully beautiful and always changing. On one day huge
clouds poured out of the top. They hung in the sky far above, white as
snow. Suddenly a cloud of smoke rushed out of another mouth. It was as
black as ink. The black column rose tall and curling beside the snowy
clouds. That was a picture in black and white. But at another time I saw
one in bright colors.

"On a certain night there were towers and curls and waves and spires of
flames leaping from the top of the mountain. Millions of red-hot stones
were shot into the sky. They sailed upward for hundreds of feet, then
curved and fell like skyrockets. I looked through my telescope and saw
liquid lava boiling and bubbling over the crater's edge. I could see it
splash upon the rocks and glide slowly down the sides of the cone. The
whole top of the mountain was red with melted rock. And above it waved
the changing flames of red, orange, yellow, blue.

"On another night, as I was getting into bed, I felt an earthquake. I
looked out of my window toward Vesuvius. All the top was glowing with
red-hot matter. A terrible roaring came from the mountain. In an instant
fire shot high into the air. The red column curved and showered the
whole cone. In half a minute came another earthquake shock. My doors and
windows rattled. Things were shaken from my table to the floor. Then
came the thunder of an explosion from the mountain and another shower
of fire. After a few seconds there were noises like the trampling of
horses' hoofs. It was, of course, the noise of the shot-out stones
falling upon the rocks of the mountainsides eight miles away.

"I decided to ascend the volcano and see the crater from which all these
interesting things came. A few friends went with me. For most of the way
we traveled on horses. After two or three hours we reached the bottom of
the cone of rocks and ashes. From there we had to go on foot. We went