People living in volcanic regions do not seem to fear the presence of these lofty peaks any more than people living in mountainous regions fear their overhanging ridges. One would think that the terrible and destructive eruptions of Vesuvius would leave that region depopulated, but no sooner have the earth’s tremblings ceased than the people flock again to their accustomed haunts, and the fertile fields once more respond to the efforts of the farmer and gardener. And so it is in Central America, where volcanic peaks abound and mild earthquakes are common. The volcanoes of Hawaii are larger, those of South America loftier, some in Italy and Java more destructive, but nowhere on the world is there such an unbroken line of volcanic peaks as along the Pacific coast of Central America. The Atlantic coast has but one distinct cone of any great height and that is the Congrehoy (8,040 ft.), which runs clear to the water’s edge. It is the only lofty peak in Honduras and has perhaps the sharpest and most clearly marked cone in that section of the world.

Little is known of the early history of the eruptions of these volcanoes and earthquake disturbances, called by the natives “temblors.” The early natives believed that earthquakes were caused by a god, Cabracan, who was in the habit of shaking the mountains. The stories of the Spanish conquerors are so mingled with devils and their work that they are incredible and convey no enlightening information. Their chroniclers tell an amusing instance of the attempt of a friar to draw up the lava, which had the appearance of molten gold, in an iron bucket from a crater. The bucket and chain as well melted as soon as it approached the seething lava.

History records the birth of the volcano, Izalco, in San Salvador in 1770. For several days strange subterranean noises accompanied by earthquake shocks had been heard in that vicinity and the people fled in terror. After a few days a lateral opening appeared in a field from which fire, smoke and lava belched forth. This was followed by sand and stones from which a cone has been gradually built up, until now it is higher than Vesuvius. It has been named the “lighthouse of Salvador” by the sailors, because it is nearly always visible at night.

I append an account of an ascent of Santa Maria made a few months after its destructive eruption of 1902, which appeared in the Scientific American:—

“I began the ascent of the volcano from the plantation of La Sabina, a favourite health resort famous for its springs of mineral water. Journeying from Palmar to La Sabina we passed two plantations whose buildings were ruined and fields devastated. We found the hotel of the town buried many feet beneath mud. I found the crater a huge pit some 500 feet in depth, from the bottom of which spouted a magnificent geyser. The steam issued with terrible force, roaring and crackling. Almost at my very feet arose another geyser, through the vapour of which there could be dimly seen a large pool formed by the condensed steam. Besides the large geysers, innumerable small jets of steam spouted from the edge of the crater in a vapourous fringe, sending forth little clouds toward the centre. At intervals a strong odour of sulphur assailed the nostrils. It is probable that when the volcano was in full eruption the entire crater was open, for the earth seemed to have fallen in and to have formed a kind of floor. Otherwise it would be impossible to account for the enormous mass of material ejected by the crater.”

The following table gives a list of the principal volcanic peaks in Guatemala, all of which are classed as “extinct,” or “quiescent,” except Santa Maria:—