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Updated: May 31, 2025
The main interest of Tosari centres round the stupendous Bromo, possessing the largest crater in the world, a fathomless cavity three miles in diameter, veiled in Stygian darkness, and suggesting the yawning mouth of hell.
It is well to cross the Sand Sea as soon after daybreak as possible, for by mid-morning the heat is like a blast from an open furnace-door. It is a four mile ride across the Sand Sea to the lower slopes of Bromo, but the sand is firm and hard and we let the ponies break into a gallop an exhilarating change from the tedious crawl necessary in the mountains.
We landed at Pasuruan because it is the port nearest to 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.
I wonder if I'll live through the Morning." That Day he lived on Bromo and Ice, and the only Satisfaction this Life offered was the Fact that he was a Reformed Man. On the Second Day he could look at Solid Food without having a Spasm. His Hair stopped pulling and he began to speak to the People he met.
I'm too short for my other things to fit you." "Oh, I can get along. What's good for a headache? I'm nearly crazy with it." "Wine?" "Yes." "Wait a minute." Ida, with bedroom slippers clattering, hurried back to her room, returned with a bottle of bromo seltzer and in the bathroom fixed Susan a dose. "You'll feel all right in half an hour or so. Gee, but you're swell with your own bathroom."
He intended to ascend the volcano of Pelian Bromo, whose fiery crater, seen from a distance at sea, had excited his lively curiosity; he wished to visit the ruins of old temples, vestiges of Javan civilisation a thousand years ago, and to gaze at the cataracts which dash, from a height of three hundred feet, down the rocky sides of Mount Arjuna. But he was doomed to disappointment.
I got out my Graflex and caught several pictures of this flash-light of flame, but none that will be as vivid, as lurid, or as lasting as the flash-light that was etched into the film of my memory. The next flash-light of flame came bursting out of midnight darkness on the island of Java. We were bound for old Bromo, that giant volcano of Java.
They are incredibly strong and tireless, the two men who carried Hawkinson's heavy motion-picture outfit to the summit of Bromo making the round trip of forty miles in a single day over some of the steepest trails I have ever seen. Growing on the mountainsides about Tosari are many bushes of thorn apple, called Datara alba, their white, funnel-shaped flowers being sometimes twelve inches long.
Fresh craters formed in the vast depths of sand and molten metal; the three new volcanoes Bromo, Battok, and Widodaren casting themselves up from the blazing crucibles hidden beneath the fire-charged earth. We stand on the thin and crumbling crust of the globe's most friable surface, a mere veil concealing fountains of eternal fire, foaming solfataras, and smoking fumaroles.
And finally the trail of smoke for fifty miles along the horizon became a trail of golden smoke. This was a Flash-Light that literally burned its way into our memories to remain forever. There is another Flash-Light Physical which has to do with another volcano which I mentioned in the preceding chapter. Bromo is its name.
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