It was blown into the air in 1680, and this island, with the few islets I have pointed out, is all that remains of it! Now, cast your eye down the centre of the island on which we stand; you see several cones of various sizes.

These are ancient vents, supposed to be extinct--" "But one of them, the one furthest away," interrupted Nigel, steadying his telescope on the branch of a tree, "seems to be anything but extinct, for I see a thin column of white smoke or steam rising from it." "That is just what I was going to point out.

They call that Perboewatan.
It is the lowest peak on the island, about 400 feet high, and stands, I should say, in the very centre of the ancient crater, where are the two fissures I have mentioned.

For two hundred years Perboewatan has not smoked like that, and, slight though it is at present, I cannot help thinking that it indicates an impending eruption, especially when I consider that earthquakes have become more numerous of late years, and there was one in 1880 which was so violent as to damage seriously the lighthouse on Java's First Point." "Then you have resided here for some time ?" said Nigel.
"Yes, for many years," replied the hermit, in a low, sad tone.
"But is it wise in you to stay if you think an explosion so likely?
Don't you needlessly run considerable risk ?" "I do not fear to die." Nigel looked at his new friend in surprise, but there was not a shadow of boastfulness or affectation either in his look or tone.
"Besides," he continued, "the explosion may be but slight, and Perboewatan is, as you see, about four miles off.

People in the neighbourhood of the straits and passing ships are so accustomed to volcanic explosions on a more or less grand scale that they will never notice this little cloud hanging over Krakatoa.