These results are all consistent except that from Caggiano, which I have every reason to think, is misplaced by about quarter of a mile, upon Zannoni's map.
Salvitello is now before me (Fig. 290), after a descent for two miles, perched upon a very blunt conoid of limestone. At less than half a mile distance, I scan it with the telescope, but except numerous fissures, do not observe much damage. One large mass of wall of rubble, has fallen, and the roof of a tower, and those of several houses have fallen in. These, and the directions of the fissures, indicate steep emergence of the wave: I can get no idea of its path, however. The people at the Taberna below the colline, tell me two houses only are prostrate, and that it is a generally well-built town. This Taberna Vigiliano is completely gutted by the shock, however, and the floors and roofs generally, indicate an angle of emergence, from about the S.E. of not less than 48° to 50°.
The long, straight, narrow valley of the Landro, stretches out before me to the S.S.E., coming down from above St. Angelo delle Fratti for more than seven miles in length, before the river falls into the Bianco, after turning about a mile and a half towards the westward. This valley has every look of a deep cleft filled with clays and loose material, and from its great length and depth, must have exercised a powerful influence in cutting off the effects of the shock, in its way eastward, if it indeed be, on the line of a deep dislocation.
We have crossed the Landro to its right bank, and still mounting, and passing along the south slope of Le Malde, about two miles from Vietri, I see Caggiano, perched high up about three miles distant to the south. With the telescope
