Abstract
THE following is a brief account of my third ascent of Asama Yama, an active volcano about 75 miles north-west from Tokio. My first ascent was made in the spring of 1877. The time we stayed on the summit, which is about 8800 feet above sea-level, was exceedingly short. The crater looked like a bottomless pit, with perpendicular sides. It was audibly roaring, and belching forth enormous volumes of sulphurous vapour, threatening suffocation to any living thing they might envelop. The drifting of these vapours across the snow, with which the upper part of the mountain was covered, had rendered it so bitter that we were unable to use it as a means of quenching our thirst. A quantity of this snow was carried to the bottom of the mountain in a handkerchief, where it was bottled, and carried to Tokio for chemical examination. The examination, however, only yielded pure water, from which it was concluded that the liquefaction of the snow had been accomplished by heating over a fire, and whatever it was that had given the snow its peculiarly bitter taste had been evaporated. My next visit to Asama was in the spring of 1886. One of the chief objects of this expedition was to satisfy a curiosity which had arisen with regard to the depth of the crater. Many visitors to the summit reported that at favourable moments, when the wind had blown the steam to one side, they had been able to see downwards to an enormous depth. One set of visitors, who had remarkable opportunities for making observations, were convinced that if the crater was not as deep as the mountain is high above the plain from which it rises (5800 feet), it must at least be from 1500 to 2000 feet in depth. Although I had provided myself with sufficient wire and rope to solve this problem, owing to the inclemency of the weather and the quantity of snow then lying on the mountain the expedition proved a failure. One of our number had to give up the attempt to reach the summit at about 6000 feet above sea-level, while I and my remaining companion only reached it with great difficulty. Our stay was very short. The wind, which was at times so strong that we were often compelled to lie down, rendered it impossible to approach the crater, and after a few minutes' rest we beat a retreat, worn out with fatigue, across the snow-fields, towards our starting-point.
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MILNE, J. Sounding a Crater . Nature 35, 152–153 (1886). https://doi.org/10.1038/035152a0
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DOI: https://doi.org/10.1038/035152a0