(※)1963年当時、ヴァルター・シュピースのアトリエに滞在していた、イギリスの旅行作家アンナ・マシューズが著書「The Night of Purnama」の中でアグン山の噴火について書いてます。お暇な時に…^^
It was at the point that I Gusti Lanang Putuh, head of our village, achieved the stroke which calmed everyone. Down towards the lava flowing in the river-bed he walked at a firm pace. Behind him came the village priest, and I Gusti Lanang Kebon, our carpenter, carrying the ceremonial kris in his right hand. Various other elders accompanied them, one of them carrying a small black chicken. The gong, drum and cymbals brought up the rear, with a group of women who brought hastily made but fairly elaborate offerings. Twenty yards from the lava, in spite of strong opposition from those who thought it should have been beheaded nearer, Kebon made the blood-sacrifice of the black chicken. The priest prayed. The elders seized the body and bore it right down to the flaming lip of the lava and cast it in. One by one, showing no signs of nervousness, the women walked down and laid their offerings before the lava. And the lava stopped. It stopped just there, beside the offerings. Early in the morning of the 19th, for the first time there was enough clear sky to see the mountain. The sight was incredible. Agung had changed its shape. The rim of the crater had collapsed and lost in height as much as five hundred feet.