Then comes another curious physical feature--a deep, green, and wooded basin of altogether unique scenic beauty and fertility, formed by the system of numerous small rivers which rise in the western part of the country around the feet of the volcano Santa Ana, falling finally into the sea near Sonsonate. This formation is in the shape of a triangle, the base resting on the sea, and the apex defined by the volcano. A second and even a larger basin is that of the River San Miguel, lying transversely to the valley of the River Lempa, in the eastern division of the State, and separated only by a number of smaller detached mountains from the Bay of Fonseca.
Approaching the Salvadorean coast upon any of the steamers which run there, one is confronted with no fewer than eleven great volcanoes, which literally bristle along the east of the plateau which has been mentioned as intervening between the valley of the Lempa and the sea. As a boy and a keen philatelist, I always wondered why Salvador postage-stamps had a group of three active and terrible-looking volcanoes upon their faces. When I visited that country for the first time I understood. The long row of sentinels, grim, yet extraordinarily beautiful, form a right line from north-west to south-east, accurately coinciding with the great line of volcanic action which is clearly defined from Mexico to Peru. Commencing on the side of Guatemala their order is as follows: Apaneca, Santa Ana, Izalco, San Salvador, San Vicente, Usulután, Tecapa, Zacatecoluca, Chinameca, San Miguel, and Conchagua. There are others of lesser note, besides a family of extinct volcanoes, whose craters are sometimes filled with water, as well as numerous volcanic vents or "blow-holes," which the natives not inaptly call _infiernillos_, _i.e._, "little hells!" Even the apparently harmless and beautiful island of Tigre, which occupies the centre of the Bay of Fonseca, and a veritable picture of scenic grandeur, is a slumbering volcano, and has a history at once interesting and terrifying. The memorable Cosieguina, El Viejo, Felica, and Momotombo, in Nicaragua, face El Tigre on the other side.
The most beautiful of the Republic's many volcanic lakes is that of Ilopango, on the borders of which is situated the village of the same name, with a scattered population of between 1,400 and 1,500 people. The lake is some 6·85 miles long from west to east, about 5·11 miles wide, with an area of 25·1 square miles and a developed shore-line of 28·8 miles. The late President of the Republic, General Fernando Figueroa, was kind enough to place a steam-launch at my disposal, which enabled me to see the lake under the most favourable auspices, and in company with his nephew, Señor Angulo, I spent several interesting hours upon its calm, deep green surface. This lake has been the scene of numerous remarkable volcanic phenomena, the most recent of which took place a few weeks after my visit, and resulted in the centre islands, which were one of its most charming features, completely disappearing beneath the surface of its waters.