Then began a cry throughout the village of "Tana goyang！ tana goyang！ "(Earthquake！ earthquake！) Everybody rushed out of their houses--women screamed and children cried--and I thought it prudent to go out too. On getting up， I found my head giddy and my steps unsteady， and could hardly walk without falling. The shock continued about a minute， during which time I felt as if Ihad been turned round and round， and was almost seasick. Going into the house again， I found a lamp and a bottle of arrack upset. The tumbler which formed the lamp had been thrown out of the saucer in which it had stood. The shock appeared to be nearly vertical， rapid， vibratory， and jerking. It was sufficient， Ihave no doubt， to have thrown down brick， chimneys， walls， and church towers； but as the houses here are all low， and strongly framed of timber， it is impossible for them to be much injured， except by a shock that would utterly destroy a European city. The people told me it was ten years since they had had a stronger shock than this， at which time many houses were thrown down and some people killed.
At intervals of ten minutes to half an hour， slight shocks and tremors were felt， sometimes strong enough to send us all out again. There was a strange mixture of the terrible and the ludicrous in our situation. We might at any moment have a much stronger shock， which would bring down the house over us， or--what I feared more--cause a landslip， and send us down into the deep ravine on the very edge of which the village is built； yet Icould not help laughing each time we ran out at a slight shock， and then in a few moments ran in again. The sublime and the ridiculous were here literally but a step apart. On the one hand， the most terrible and destructive of natural phenomena was in action around us--the rocks， the mountains， the solid earth were trembling and convulsed， and we were utterly impotent to guard against the danger that might at any moment overwhelm us. On the other hand was the spectacle of a number of men， women， and children running in and out of their houses， on what each time proved a very unnecessary alarm， as each shock ceased just as it became strong enough to frighten us. It seemed really very much like "playing at earthquakes，" and made many of the people join me in a hearty laugh， even while reminding each other that it really might be no laughing matter.
At length the evening got very cold， and I became very sleepy， and determined to turn in； leaving orders to my boys， who slept nearer the door， to wake me in case the house was in danger of falling. But I miscalculated my apathy， for I could not sleep much. The shocks continued at intervals of half an hour or an hour all night， just strong enough to wake me thoroughly each time and keep me on the alert， ready to jump up in case of danger.
I was therefore very glad when morning came. Most of the inhabitants had not been to bed at all， and some had stayed out of doors all night. For the next two days and nights shocks still continued at short intervals， and several times a day for a week， showing that there was some very extensive disturbance beneath our portion of the earth's crust. How vast the forces at work really are can only be properly appreciated when， after feeling their effects， we look abroad over the wide expanse of hill and valley， plain and mountain， and thus realize in a slight degree the immense mass of matter heaved and shaken. The sensation produced by an earthquake is never to be forgotten. We feel ourselves in the grasp of a power to which the wildest fury of the winds and waves are as nothing； yet the effect is more a thrill of awe than the terror which the more boisterous war of the elements produces. There is a mystery and an uncertainty as to the amount of danger we incur， which gives greater play to the imagination， and to the influences of hope and fear. These remarks apply only to a moderate earthquake. A severe one is the most destructive and the most horrible catastrophe to which human beings can be exposed.
A few days after the earthquake I took a walk to Tondano， a large village of about 7，000 inhabitants， situated at the lower end of the lake of the same name. I dined with the Controlleur， Mr. Bensneider， who had been my guide to Tomohon. He had a fine large house， in which he often received visitors； and his garden was the best for flowers which I had seen in the tropics， although there was no great variety. It was he who introduced the rose hedges which give such a charming appearance to the villages； and to him is chiefly due the general neatness and good order that everywhere prevail. I consulted him about a fresh locality， as Ifound Rurúkan too much in the clouds， dreadfully damp and gloomy， and with a general stagnation of bird and insect life. He recommended me a village some distance beyond the lake， near which was a large forest， where he thought I should find plenty of birds. As he was going himself in a few days， I decided to accompany him.
After dinner I asked him for a guide to the celebrated waterfall on the outlet stream of the lake. It is situated about a mile and half below the village， where a slight rising ground closes in the basin， and evidently once formed， the shore of the lake. Here the river enters a gorge， very narrow and tortuous， along which it rushes furiously for a short distance and then plunges into a great chasm， forming the head of a large valley. Just above the fall the channel is not more than ten feet wide， and here a few planks are thrown across， whence， half hid by luxuriant vegetation， the mad waters may be seen rushing beneath， and a few feet farther plunge into the abyss. Both sight and sound are grand and impressive. It was here that， four years before my visit， the Governor-General of the Netherland Indies committed suicide， by leaping into the torrent. This at least is the general opinion， as he suffered from a painful disease which was supposed to have made him weary of his life. His body was found next day in the stream below.
