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Fire Island

by George Manville Fenn · English · Gutenberg #21307 · 659,870 chars · public domain (US)

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Title: Fire Island

Author: George Manville Fenn


        
Release date: May 4, 2007 [eBook #21307]

Language: English

Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/21307

Credits: Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FIRE ISLAND ***




Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England





Fire Island, by George Manville Fenn.

________________________________________________________________________

This is good vintage Fenn, with dreadful situation following dreadful
situation, and the heroes (mostly) managing to get out of it somehow.
Right up to the last chapter the reader never knows how the problems
that throw themselves upon a little group of naturalists and the sailors
that brought them to the island on which all these frightening events
occur, will be solved.  NH

___________________________________________________________

FIRE ISLAND, BY GEORGE MANVILLE FENN.



CHAPTER ONE.

WILD TIMES.

"Do I think it would be wise to put on a life-belt, Mr Lane?"

"Yes."

The words were shouted into the ear of one of the speakers, and yelled
back as, like others about the vessel, they clung to the side, now to be
raised high, now to be plunged down again, as the _Planet_, with only a
rag or two of storm canvas set, rode over a huge wave and seemed as if
turned into some new and ponderous kind of diving apparatus about to
seek the wonders at the bottom of the eastern seas.  But after her
tremendous plunge right into a hollow she rose again, shook off the
water which deluged the deck and staggered on.

Just then a dimly seen figure sidled up to the two speakers, held on
tightly, and shouted--

"I say, Mr Rimmer, isn't that man steering very wildly?"

"Who's to steer tamely, sir, in a sea like this?  Man has enough to do
to keep from being washed overboard."

The newcomer nodded and took a fresh grip of the top of the bulwark as a
sea came over the bows again, and swept along the deck, leaving them
breathless and panting, with the water streaming from oilskin and
mackintosh.

"Don't you want to put on a life-belt, too?" shouted the first speaker,
as in the darkness of that terrible night his words seemed to be
snatched away as soon as uttered.

"Yes; it would be safer; where are they?"

"Bah!  Nonsense!  Look down there.  Suppose you had on a life-belt, what
could you do in such a sea?  You'd both be knocked to pieces or have the
breath choked out of you in five minutes.  Stick to the ship while you
can.  That's good advice."

"Is there any danger?" shouted the young man who was nearest the last
speaker.

"Of course there is.  No one could be in such a tornado without being in
danger."

"But shall we be wrecked?" asked the fresh-comer.

"Heaven only knows, sir.  We're all amongst the islands and reefs, and
if one of them is in our way nothing can save us."

No words were spoken then for some time, and every man on board the
_Planet_ brig, which after a short stay at Singapore was off on a voyage
of discovery along the coast of New Guinea, clung to bulwark, shroud and
stay, or sheltered himself the best way he could from the waves which,
like the wind, seemed ready to pluck them from their hold.

Everything possible in the way of navigation had been done when the
frightful storm came on, after scant warning in the way of a falling
barometer.  Then nothing was left for the unfortunates on board but to
hold on and wait for the end of the hurricane as they were swept along
swiftly in its course.

Three days before, they had been sailing gently within sight of the
towering volcanoes of Java.  Now, as Mr Rimmer, the chief mate, said,
they were "anywhere," the wind having veered round as if blowing in a
vast circle, and all government of the brig being pretty well at an end.

Matters had been bad enough while it was daylight.  When darkness came
on the little hope which had remained was pretty well quenched; and
Oliver Lane began to think of the home in England that he might never
see again, and of how different the reality of the expedition was from
all that he had pictured in his rather vivid imagination.

When the trip was planned, and he obtained permission to join it through
the influence of his father, a famous naturalist, he saw himself sailing
amid glorious islands, with gorgeous tropical foliage hanging over seas
of intense blue, glittering like precious stones in the burning
sunshine; coral reefs seen through transparent water with their groves
of wondrous seaweeds, and fish of brilliant tints flashing their scale
armour as they swam here and there.  Then, too, his thoughts had run
riot over the shore trips among lands where the birds were dazzling in
colour, and the insects painted by nature's hand with hues impossible to
describe; but, instead of these delights to one of eager temperament,
they had encountered this fearful storm.  The captain and man after man
had been disabled, and for the rest as they tore onward through the
spray, mist and darkness, grim death seemed to be just ahead, for a
touch upon one of the many reefs which studded those seas meant instant
destruction, since no boat could have been lowered to live.

"Never say die," shouted Ezra Rimmer, the mate, in his ear.  "We may
ride it out."

Oliver Lane made no reply.  He was half stunned by the deafening roar,
and his mind after the many hours of suffering had grown confused; but
as the last comer twisted a line about his waist and secured it to the
belaying-pins close at hand, the mate went on shouting a few words from
time to time as he tried to make out their unfortunate companions.

"These storms end suddenly," he shouted.  "Don't understand 'em--
electricity or something to do with the volcanoes.  Keep a stout heart,
sir.  If we do have to die, I don't think it will be very bad.  Hold
tight whatever you do.  As aforesaid, `Never say die.'"

Oliver Lane turned his head to him and tried to make out the expression
on the face of a man who could speak so coolly about death.  But it was
too dark, and turning back to the companion who had joined them, he
reached his arm farther round the shroud he was clinging to and touched
him.

The young man raised his drooping head.

"Where's Drew?" shouted Oliver Lane; but the wind bore away his words,
and he yelled out his question again.

"Cabin!" came back in a temporary cessation of the turmoil of roaring
wind, hissing spray, and creaking and groaning of the vessel's timbers.

Oliver Lane tried to ask another question, but the wind caught him full
in the face with such force that for a few moments he could only gasp
and try to recover his breath, while directly after the vessel gave so
tremendous a pitch and roll, he was jerked from his footing and hung by
his hands with the sensation of having his arms jerked from their
sockets.

But the young Englishman had been engaged in similar struggles for
hours, and recovering himself he shouted, "Panton?"

"Hullo!"

"Is Drew hurt?"

"Yes.  So am I."

"So we are all, Mr Panton," yelled the mate.  "If we get through this
we shall all be covered with bruises, let alone broken ribs and other
bones--Yah!--Hold on."

The advice was not needed, for the two young men with him had suddenly
seen something grey loom up in front, and taught by experience that it
was a mass of foaming water, they clung for dear life, sheltering
themselves as well as they could beneath the bulwark as the wave curled
over and thundered along the deck with a hideous crashing din that
literally stunned them.  When it had passed over Oliver Lane shook his
head and tried with his smarting eyes to get rid of the water and make
out whether his companions were safe.

To his horror Arthur Panton was hanging from the belaying pin to which
he had lashed himself, with his head down and his hands close to his
feet, apparently lifeless, while the mate was gone.

It is good medicine for the mind to see others in peril, for it rouses
to action the best feelings in our nature and subdues the love of self.

In an instant Oliver had forgotten his own sufferings, and, holding on
by one hand, he tried to raise his companion to his old position, but
for a few moments in vain.  Then the reaction came, and the young man
made a brave effort to assist, and soon after he was upright and
clinging with his arms over the bulwark, gasping heavily to recover his
breath.

Oliver Lane's next movement was to help the mate, whom he could dimly
see lying across the deck half buried and wedged in amongst ropes,
gratings, and the smashed-up wreck of one of the boats, which had been
torn from the davits by the weight of the water.

He had to crawl to him, and then dragged away a great tangle of rope and
several pieces of broken woodwork before the mate moved.  Then he began
to struggle, dragged himself out by the help of Oliver Lane's hands, and
crawled back with him to the side, where he crouched down under the
bulwark.

"Nice lark this, sir," he groaned.

"Much hurt?" shouted Oliver Lane.

"Tidy," came back.  "Don't know yet, sir.  Hah!  Don't think I could
stand much more of it, nor the old _Planet_, neither."

These words were uttered during a temporary lull.  Then the wind came
along with a fiercer rush than ever, bearing with it a perfect deluge of
spray in great stinging, blinding drops torn from the surface of the
waves, and forcing all on board to shelter their faces from its
violence.

There was no more possibility of making one another heard for the
furious blast.  Every nerve and muscle had to be devoted to the task of
holding on, and in this way hour after hour of that awful night slowly
passed away till one and all of the crew strained their eyes, though
vainly, for the coming of the day.

"At last!" shouted the mate.

Oliver Lane looked up in his direction, so thoroughly exhausted and weak
that he could not comprehend the meaning of his companion's words.  Then
by slow degrees he began to realise that the wind was falling fast,
though the vessel was labouring as much as ever.

Then he managed to grasp the fact that it was some time since the deck
had been flooded by a wave, and with a faint gleam of hope crossing the
darkness which had enshrouded them, he said with an effort--

"Lulling a little?"

"Lulling?" cried the mate.  "You couldn't have talked to me like that a
couple of hours ago."

"Then we have escaped?"

"I don't know yet.  All that I know is that we are getting through the
storm, and the sooner it is daylight the better I shall be pleased."

Some hours passed.  The wind had died out and the sea was rapidly going
down, but a strange feeling of uneasiness had come upon the occupants of
the little vessel.  Visit after visit had been paid to the cabins, and
the watches which had been consulted and doubted were now acknowledged
to be trusty and truth-telling, for the chronometers supported their
evidence and announced that it was well on toward noon of the next day.
Though to all appearance it was midnight of the blackest, dense clouds
shutting out the sky, while the long-continued darkness had a singularly
depressing effect upon men worn out by their struggle with the storm.

Arthur Panton, the mineralogist of the little expedition, had pretty
well recovered from the battering he had received, and he at once gave
his opinion as to the cause of the darkness.

"I cannot speak learnedly upon the subject," he said, "but these
terrible storms, as Mr Rimmer says, do appear to be somehow connected
with electric disturbances, and often enough these latter seem to be
related to volcanic eruptions."

"And you think there is a volcanic eruption somewhere near?" asked Lane.

"I do not say somewhere near, for the wind may have brought this dense
blackness from hundreds of miles distant but certainly I should say that
one of the many volcanoes in this region is in eruption."

"If it were, sir, we should be having fine ashes coming down upon us,"
said the mate, gruffly, "and--"

"What's that?" cried Panton, holding up his hand.

"Thunder," said the mate, as a deep, apparently distant concussion was
heard.

"No, the explosion from some crater," said Panton.  "Hark!"

Another deep muttering report was heard, and soon after another and
another.

"Only a bad thunderstorm," cried the mate.  "There, let's go and get
some food, gentlemen, and see how our friends are.  I daresay we shall
be having a deluge of rain before long, and then the sun will come out
and I can take an observation."

He led the way to the cabin, where the steward had prepared a meal and
retrimmed the lamps, going about with a scared look on his countenance,
and turning his eyes appealingly from one to the other as the
thunderlike reports kept on; but, getting no sympathy from those to whom
he appealed silently, for they were as nervous as himself, he sought his
opportunity and, following Oliver Lane into a corner, he began,--

"Oh, sir, the destruction's awful."

"But the ship is sound yet, and making no water."

"I mean my china and glass, sir," said the man, "I shan't have a whole
thing left."

"Never mind that if our lives are saved."

"No, sir, I don't; but will they be saved?"

"Oh, yes, I hope so."

"But it's so dark, sir.  Oh, why did I leave London with its safety and
its gas?  Why am I here, sir?  I want to know why I am here?"

"Because you were not a coward," said Lane.

"Eh?  You're not joking me, sir."

"No, I am serious."

"Then thank you, sir.  You're quite right.  That's it, I'm not a coward,
and I won't say another word."

The man nodded and smiled and went about his work, while Lane turned to
a young man of seven or eight and twenty, who sat evidently suffering
and looking pale and strange in the sickly light.

"I say, Lane," he said, "is this the end of the world?"

"Not to-day, Mr Drew," cried the mate: "Is no end to the world, it's
round."

"To-day!  It's noon, and as black as night."

"Mr Rimmer thinks we are going to have a tremendous rain storm now,"
said Oliver Lane, wincing with pain as he sat down.

"Then it is going to be a rain of black ink."

"Oh, no, sir, heavy thunderstorm and then the light will come.  The
clouds look almost solid."

"But surely that cannot be thunder," cried Oliver Lane, excitedly.
"Hark!"

"No need to, sir," said the mate, smiling.  "It makes itself heard
plainly enough.  By George!"

He sprang from the table and hurried out on deck, for a roar like that
of some terrific explosion close at hand was heard, and Lane and Panton
followed, expecting to see the lurid light of a fire or the flash of
lightning forerunning the next roar.

But all was blacker than ever, and the sailing lights and a ship's
lantern or two swung to and fro as the vessel rose and fell on the
unquiet sea.

"What do you make of it, Smith?" cried the mate to one of the watch.

"Can't make nothing on it at all, sir," said the man, taking off his cap
and scratching his head, while his face, like those of his companions'
had a peculiar scared aspect.  "'Tar'nt like a thunderstorm, cause there
ar'n't a drop o' lightning."

"_Bit_, matey," said one of the man's comrades.

"Get out," growled the first man, "how can it be a bit, Billy Wriggs,
when yer can't touch it?  I said a drop and I mean it."

"Don't argue," said the mate, sharply.  "Do you mean to say, all of you,
that you saw no flash?"

"Not a sign o' none, sir," said the first man.  "There?"

Another fearful detonation came with startling violence to their ears,
and as they stood upon the deck the report seemed to jar them all in a
dull, heavy way.

"Warn't no flash o' lightning there, sir."

"No, I saw no flash," said Oliver Lane, uneasily.

"No, there aren't been none, sir.  Lightning allus flickers and blinks
like, 'fore you hear any thunder at all."

"These dense black clouds might hide the flashes," said Lane.

"No," said Panton.  "I should say that a flash of lightning would pass
through any cloud.  I don't think it's thunder."

"What, then, a naval action going on?"

"No war," said the mate, "it must be thunder."

Another detonation, louder than any they had heard before, made the ship
literally quiver, and the men pressed together and turned their startled
faces towards the mate as if for help and protection.

"World's coming to a hend," muttered one of the men.

"If I was skipper here," said another, "I'd just 'bout ship and run for
it."

"Where to?" said Wriggs.

"Can't run your ship out o' the world, matey," grumbled the first sailor
who had spoken, while the mate and the cabin passengers stood gazing in
the direction from which the detonations seemed to come, and tried to
pierce the dense blackness ahead.  "Sims to me as there's something
wrong in the works somewhere.  I never see anything like this afore."

"Nor you can't see nothing like it behind, matey," said Wriggs.  "It's
like playing at Blind Man's Buff shut up in a water tank."

Another awful roar, ten times as deafening as that of the loudest peal
of thunder, now struck them heavily--short, quick--sudden, but there was
no echoing reverberation or rolling sound as with thunder, and now
convinced that it could not be the effects of a thunderstorm, the mate
turned to his companion, and said,--

"It's a big volcano hard at it somewhere, gentlemen, and these are not
rain clouds shutting us in, but smoke."

"But what volcano can it be?" said Lane, as a peculiar nervous tremor
attacked him.

"You tell me whereabouts we are, and I'll tell you what burning mountain
that is.  If you can't tell me, I can't tell you.  Wait till the clouds
open, and I'll get an observation.  First thing, though, is to make sail
and get away."

He knew the folly of his remark as he spoke, for the wind had completely
dropped now, and it was noted as strange that no rush of air came after
each explosion.  There was the heavy concussion and then a terrible
stillness, the air being perfectly motionless, and this appearing the
more strange after the frightful tornado through which they had passed.
Silence absolute, and a darkness as thick as that of the great plague of
Egypt--a darkness that could be felt.  And now, making no headway
whatever, the vessel rolled heavily in the tossing waves, which boiled
round them as it were, as if there were some violent disturbance going
on far beneath the keel.

"I never see nought like this," whispered the first sailor Smith, as if
he were afraid of his words being heard.  "Ship's going it like a
dumpling in a pot."

"And I never felt anything like it, gentlemen," said the mate in a low
awe-stricken tone.  "But we mustn't show any white feathers, eh, Mr
Lane?  Ah, Mr Drew, come to give us your opinion?"

This to the gentleman they had left in the cabin.

"I have come to bring terrible news, Mr Rimmer," said the fresh-comer,
gravely.  "A few minutes after you had left the cabin, Captain White
rose suddenly upon his elbow.  `Fetch Mr Rimmer,' he said; `no: don't
leave me.  He can do no good.  It's all getting dark.  Tell Mr Rimmer
to do his best but I know he will.  Stay with me to the last, Mr Drew.'
I should have run and called for help, but it was all too plain, Mr
Rimmer.  He was dying, and directly after he sank back on his pillow,
gave me one sad look as if to say good-bye, and all was over."

The terrible silence seemed to be more profound at this announcement,
which came like a chill upon the little group already sufficiently
unnerved.

The silence was broken by the mate, who said, softly,--

"God be merciful to him, and take him unto His rest!  We've lost a good
captain, gentlemen, and I a very faithful old friend."

Another deafening roar came from ahead.  Away to the east it appeared to
be one minute--to the west, south, north, the next, for the needle of
the compass was all on the quiver, and appeared as if it followed a
wandering magnetic attraction in the air.

Silence again, all but the hissing and splashing of the troubled sea,
and the creaking of the beams as the brig rolled slowly from side to
side.

The crew were all grouped together close by the mate, who had succeeded
to the command of the little vessel, and as he stood there gazing over
the side, thoughtfully, the three young men glanced at each other, and
then at the man who had their lives in charge.

At last the mate turned, and the light of one of the lanterns shone full
upon his haggard countenance.

"There's no doubt about it, gentlemen," he said, "we're near some
volcano in a terrible state of eruption, and there is nothing to be done
but wait.  I am perfectly helpless till we get light and a breath of
air.  Ah, here's a change.  There's no doubt now.  I was wrong; we have
got something to do."

For as he spoke the thick darkness suddenly became blacker; inasmuch as
before it was all overhead, now it appeared to have gradually settled
down upon the sea and obscured the light of the lanterns.  For plainly
enough there was the convincing proof of their being in the
neighbourhood of some volcanic disturbance in the mighty band which runs
through the Eastern Archipelago.  The air became suddenly full of a
thick, fine ash falling softly upon the deck, and to such an extent that
the gangways were thrown open and the crew were set to work to sweep the
powder off into the sea.

Here too, a strange effect was produced, for the ship gradually began to
roll less violently, the soft fine ash which fell being sufficiently
buoyant to float, and it became so thick that the rough waters were
quieted, and the surface was rapidly covered with a thick coating of
floating ash.

At first this dust settled softly down upon the deck, then it came down
more thickly, lodging on the yards and sails, every rope and stay, too,
taking its load till it was filled up so that it could bear no more, end
consequently every now and then avalanches of ash were started from on
high and came down with a soft rush and a heavy thud upon the deck.

This rapidly accumulated, and the men had to work harder and harder
shovelling it to the gangways where others threw it overboard, where it
fell silently and without a splash.

"Work away, everyone," cried the mate.  "It will soon be all down, and
then we shall get light."

But the fearsome detonations continued, and it was evident that at every
discharge fresh clouds of the volcanic dust were formed, and the
darkness remained as profound as ever.

"This can't go on," said Oliver Lane, in a husky whisper to his nearest
companion as they both paused breathless, dropping with perspiration,
choked, and blinded by the volcanic dust.

"I hope not," was the reply.  "It seems to fall more quickly than we
shovel it off."

"What's that?" cried Lane excitedly, and a low murmur full of horror and
despair, arose from the ship as men threw down shovel and broom and made
for the boats, for following close upon another of the awful explosions
there was a sudden rushing noise, evidently in the opposite direction,
and the vessel quivered from stem to stern as if it had suddenly, and
without warning, struck upon a rock.

So startling was the concussion that the immediate conclusion was that
she was going down, and it was not until a couple of similar concussions
had been suffered that it was realised that the blows were shocks
communicated through the water, which was once more in a fearful state
of disturbance.

"We're in for it now, gentlemen," said the mate, in awe-stricken tones.
"Look out!" he roared, directly after.

"Hold on everyone, rope and stays."

His words were hardly heard, for there was once more a deafening roar
apparently somewhere ahead, and almost simultaneously a heavy sea struck
them astern, making the vessel heel over as the wave swept the deck, and
as she recovered herself another and another deluged her, and for the
moment it seemed as if she must sink.

But the buoyant vessel rose again as the falling ashes were succeeded by
cinders which came rattling and crashing down, literally bombarding the
deck, while to add to the horror the black darkness began to give place
to a blood-red lurid glare.  Toward this they were now being drawn,
slowly at first, then faster and faster: as, after the three waves that
had struck the vessel, another came towering on astern, threatening to
engulf them, but plunging beneath the stern, lifting and bearing them
along upon its tremendous crest with a rush and deafening hissing roar.
Faster and faster, and on and toward the deep glow now right ahead.

Oliver Lane was clinging to the fore shrouds and awake to the fact that
his two friends, Panton and Drew, were at his side, for their faces
loomed out of the black darkness, lit up by the blood-red glow from
which now came a perceptible sense of heat.  The next moment they were
joined by the mate, who yelled to them, his voice plainly heard over the
hiss and roar,--

"Earthquake wave!  It's all over now."

He said no more, and they all clung there, with the vessel still
balanced accurately upon the huge crest and borne on at almost express
speed.

In his agony of despair and horror Lane now glanced to right and left to
see by the blood-red glow the rolling hill of water upon which he rode
spreading out to right and left, while from the clouds above it was as
if the whole of the firmament were casting down its stars in one great
shower of light as the fiery stones came rushing, hissing into the sea
and many of them crashing upon the doomed ship.

Death was upon them in its most awful form, and as the young man was
conscious of two hands gripping his arms, a voice close to his ear
shouted,--

"The end of all things, my lad; we can never live through this!"



CHAPTER TWO.

A BIT OF BLUE.

As if to endorse these words there was once more a deafening explosion,
the blood-red glow toward which they were being driven suddenly flashed
out into a burst of light so dazzling that all present covered their
blinded eyes; a spurt of fiery blocks of incandescent stone curved over
and fell into the boiling sea, and as the occupants of the deck were
driven prostrate by the shock which followed, silence and darkness once
more reigned.

"Much hurt, sir?"

Oliver Lane heard those words quite plainly, and lay wondering who it
was that was hurt, and why he did not answer so kindly an inquiry.

Then, as a hand was laid upon his shoulder, he grasped the fact that it
was the mate who was speaking, and that he was the object of the
sailor's solicitude.

"I--I don't know," he said, making an effort to sit up, and succeeding.
"Whatever is the matter?  My head aches a good deal."

"No wonder, my lad, seeing how you were pitched against the mast.  But
you won't hurt now.  I doctored it as well as I could.  It bled pretty
freely, and that will keep the wound wholesome."

"Bled?" said the young fellow wonderingly, as he raised his hand, and
found that a thick bandage was round his forehead.

"Yes; we were all thrown down when she struck, but you got the worst of
it."

"She struck?--the ship?  Then we have all been wrecked?"

"Well, yes," said the mate, giving his head a vicious kind of rub; "I
suppose we must call it a wreck.  Anyhow, we're ashore."

"And it isn't so dark?" said Oliver, rising to his feet and feeling so
giddy that he caught at the nearest rope to save himself from falling.

"No, it isn't so dark, for the clouds are passing away.  We shall have
daylight directly."

"Morning?"

"No; it's quite late to-morrow afternoon," said the mate grimly.

"But I don't hear that thundering now?"

"No; it's all over seemingly, thank goodness," said the mate, as his
injured companion looked wonderingly up at the thick, blackened clouds
still hanging overhead, and listened quite expectant for the next
terrible detonation.  "I began to think we were going to be carried
along full speed into some awful fiery hole on the top of that wave, and
that when we struck the water was going on to put out the fire, and I
suppose it did."

"What?" cried Lane, looking round him, and then at the mate, to see if
he were in his right senses.

"Yes, you may look, Mr Lane," he said.  "I'm all right, only a bit
scared; I know what I'm saying, and as soon as it get's light enough
you'll see."

"But I don't understand."

"No, nor anybody else, sir, but Nature, who's been having a regular turn
up.  I s'pose you know that we were in for a great eruption?"

"Yes, of course."

"And somehow mixed up with the storm, there was an earthquake?"

"No, I did not grasp that, only that we were being carried toward a
burning mountain; but I don't see any glow from the volcano now."

"No; it's all out, and I ought to have said a sea-quake.  It seems to me
it was like this: a great place opened somewhere, out of which the flame
and smoke and thunderings came, till it had half spent its strength, and
then the sea mastered it, and ran into the great hole and put out the
fire, but it took all the sea to do it."

"I say, Mr Rimmer," exclaimed Oliver Lane, staring hard at the mate,
"did you get a heavy blow on the head when we came ashore?"

"No; I had all my trouble before the shock came that sent you down, I
mean when we struck I'm as clear as a bell now, sir, and know what I'm
saying."

"But the sea--I don't hear any waves now.  There are no breakers, the
deck is not flooded, and yet you say we are ashore?"

"You can't see any breakers, and they can't," said the mate, pointing to
a group dimly seen through the gloom clustered together and looking over
the vessel's side, "because it's as I tell you, the earth opened with
that eruption, and the seas all ran down the hole."

"Mr Rimmer!"

"That's right, sir.  We're ashore, but it's on the bottom of the sea."

"Nonsense!" cried Oliver Lane.

"Oh, very well, look over the side, then.  Where's the water?  I've been
looking and listening, and there isn't a drop to be heard; it's too dark
to see anything yet.  Now, listen again."

"I can hear nothing," said Oliver.

"No, not a splash, and the great volcano is put out.  That isn't smoke
which makes it so dark, but steam rising from the big hole in the
earth."

"Oh, impossible!" cried Lane.

"All right, sir, then make it possible by explaining it some other way.
But, as far as I can make out, our voyage is over, and we've got to walk
all the way home, and carry our traps."

"Wait till it gets light," said Lane confidently, "and you'll see that
you are wrong.  Who's that, Drew?"

"Yes.  Are you better?"

"Oh, yes, only a little giddy.  Where's Panton?"

"Over yonder.  I say, what do you think of this?  Isn't it awful!  You
know we are ashore."

"Mr Rimmer says we're on the bottom of the sea, with all the water run
out."

"Well, it does seem like it, but that's impossible, of course.  We're
not in a lake."

"I don't know where we are gentlemen," said the mate, "only that I feel
like a fish out of water, and I'm quite in the dark."

"Wherever we are," said Drew, "we have been in the midst of an awful
natural convulsion, and if we can escape with life, I shall feel glad to
have been a witness of such a scene."

"I'm thinking about our poor ship, sir," said the mate.  "She's of more
consequence to me than Nature in convulsions.  Oh, if these clouds would
only rise and the light come so that we could see!"

"It is coming," cried Lane.  "It is certainly clearer over yonder.  How
still everything is!"

_Scree-auh_!

A long-drawn, piercing, and harsh cry from a distance.

"What's that?" cried Drew.

"Fish," said the mate, drily.  "Found there's no more water, and it's
going to die."

"Mr Rimmer," cried Lane, "what nonsense!"

"Nonsense?  Why, I've many a time heard fish sing out when they've been
dragged on board."

"That was a bird," said Lane, as he shaded his eyes to try and pierce
the gloom around them.  "There it goes again."

For the cry was repeated, and then answered from behind them, and
followed directly after by a piping whistle and a chirp.

"We're ashore with birds all about us," said Oliver Lane decisively.  We
were carried right in by that earthquake wave, and the water has retired
and left us stranded.

"Have it your own way, gentlemen," said the mate.  "It's all the same to
me whether my ship's left stranded at the bottom of a dry sea or right
away on land.  She's no use now--that's plain enough."

Just then the darkness closed in again, and save for the murmur of
voices in the obscurity, the stillness was terrible.  So utterly dark
did it become that anything a yard away was quite invisible, and once
more, suffering one and all from a sensation of dread against which it
was impossible to fight, the occupants of the deck stood waiting to
encounter whatever was next to come.

Oliver Lane was at the age when a youth begins to feel that he is about
to step into a fresh arena--that of manhood, but with a good deal that
is boyish to hold him back.  And in those moments, oppressed and
overcome as he was by the long-continued darkness, he felt a strong
disposition to search out a hand so as to cling to whoever was nearest,
but he mastered the desire, and then uttered a sigh of satisfaction, for
Drew, his companion, suddenly thrust a hand beneath his arm and pressed
towards him.

"Company's good," he whispered, "even if you're going to be hanged, they
say; let's keep together, Lane, for I'm not ashamed to say I'm in a
regular stew."

"So's everybody," said the mate frankly.  "I've been through a good deal
at sea, gentlemen, but this is about the most awful thing I ever did
encounter.  I wouldn't care if we were only able to see what was to
happen next."

A cheer broke out from the crew at that moment, for right overhead the
blackness opened, and a clear, bright ray of light shot down upon the
deck, quivered, faded, shot out again, and then rapidly grew broader and
broader.

"Blue sky!" yelled one of the sailors frantically as a patch appeared;
and in his intense excitement he dashed off into the rapid steps of a
hornpipe.

"Bravo, my lads!" cried the mate, who was as excited as the men.  "Cheer
again.  Three cheers for the bit of blue!"

The men shouted till they were hoarse, paused, and then cheered again,
while Panton turned now to where his friends were standing with the
mate, and with the tears welling in his eyes, began to shake hands with
first one and then another, all reciprocating and beginning in their
hysterical delight to repeat the performance double-handed now, as the
light grew broader and clearer.  A soft, warm mellow glow, which grew
and grew till the huge dense steam clouds were seen to be rolling slowly
away in three directions, in the fourth--the north evidently, from the
direction of the golden rays of light--there was one vast bank of
vapour, at first black, then purple, and by degrees growing brighter,
till the men burst forth cheering wildly again at the mass of splendour
before them.  For far as eye could reach all was purple, orange, gold
and crimson of the most dazzling sheen, then darkness once more; for the
sun, of which they had a momentary glimpse, was blotted out by the
rolling masses of cloud which were floating away.

But it was the darkness of an evening in the tropics.  The light had
been, and sent hope and rest into their breasts, giving them the
knowledge of their position as they lay stranded upon an open plain with
the terrible convulsion of nature apparently at an end.



CHAPTER THREE.

"JUST NOWHERE!"

"One must eat and one must sleep," said Oliver Lane, "even if a fellow
has been knocked on the head and nearly killed."

Every one was of the same opinion; but though there were a few attempts
at jocularity, the mirth was forced, and all knew that they were trying
to hide the deep feelings of thankfulness in their hearts for their
safety, after passing through as terrible an ordeal as could fall to the
lot of man.

There was another reason, too, for the solemnity which soon prevailed;
the captain lay dead in the cabin--the man who not many hours before was
in full possession of health, and now sleeping calmly there, beyond
sharing the hopes and fears of those whom he had left behind.
Consequently, men went to and fro as if afraid of their steps being
heard, and for the most part conversed in whispers for some time, till
the question arose about keeping watch.

"There's only one thing to keep a watch for to-night," said the mate to
Oliver,--"savages."

"If there are savages here, would they not have been drowned, Mr
Rimmer?"

"Perhaps--or burned to death.  Then there's nothing to watch for."

"Not for the wave that may come and carry us back to sea?"

"No; that would be too long a watch, sir.  Such an eruption as we have
encountered only comes once in a man's lifetime.  I'm in command now,
and I shall let every poor fellow have ten or a dozen hours' good sleep,
and I am so utterly done up that I shall take the same amount myself."

The consequence was that all through that natural darkness of night dead
silence reigned.

But not for ten or a dozen hours.  Before eight of them were passed,
Oliver Lane was awake and on deck, eager and excited with all a
naturalist's love of the wild world, to see what their novel
surroundings would be like.

The sun was shining brilliantly; low down in the east the sky was
golden, and as he raised his head above the hatchway, it was to gaze
over the bulwarks at a glorious vista of green waving trees, on many of
which were masses of scarlet and yellow blossom; birds were flying in
flocks, screaming and shrieking; while from the trees came melodious
pipings, and the trills of finches, mingled with deep-toned, organ-like
notes, and the listener felt his heart swell with thankfulness, and a
mist came before his eyes, as he felt how gloriously beautiful the world
seemed, after the black darkness and horrors through which he had
passed.

Then everything was matter-of-fact and ordinary again, for a voice
said,--"Hullo! you up?  Thought I was first."

"You, Drew?  I say, look here."  Sylvester Drew, botanist of the little
expedition, shaded his eyes from the horizontal sunbeams, and looked
round over the hatchway as he stood beside his companion, and kept on
uttering disconnected words,--"Beautiful--grand--Paradise--thank God!"
By one impulse they stepped on deck and went to the bulwarks, to stand
there and look around, astounded at the change.

From where they had obtained their first glimpse of their surroundings
they only saw the higher ground; now they were looking upon the level--a
scene of devastation.

For they were both gazing upon the track of the earthquake wave, and all
around them trees were lying torn-up by the roots, battered and stripped
of their leafage, some piled in inextricable confusion, others half
buried in mud.  Some again had soft white coral sand heaped over them.
Here, the surface had been swept bare to the dark rock which formed the
base of the island or continent upon which they had been cast; there,
mud lay in slimy waves, some of which were being disturbed at the
surface by something living writhing its way through the liquid soil.

"Might have given a fellow a call," said a voice, and Panton came up to
them.  "You fellows are as bad as schoolboys; must have first turn."

"Never thought of calling you," said Drew.

"Not surprised at you," said Panton to Oliver Lane, "you are only a
schoolboy yet; but you might have called me, Drew."

"Don't take any notice, Oliver, lad," said Drew.  "Panton always goes
badly till he has been oiled by his breakfast."

"My word!" cried Panton, as he grasped the scene around them.  "Look
here, Drew!  Look at the earth bared to its very bones.  Volcanic.  Look
at the tufa.  That's basalt there, and look where the great blocks of
coral are lying.  Why, they must have been swept in by the wave."

"Don't bother," said Drew.  "I want to make out what those trees are in
blossom.  They must be--"

"Oh, bother your trees and flowers!  Here, Oliver, lad, look at the
great pieces of scoria and pumice.  Why, that piece is smoking still.
These must be some of the fragments we saw falling yesterday."

"Can't look," said Oliver, "I want to know what those birds are, and
there's a great fish in that muddy pool yonder, and, if I'm not greatly
mistaken, that's a snake.  Here, quick!  Look amongst those trees.
There's a man--no, a boy--no.  I see now; it's alive, and--yes--it's
some kind of ape."

"Well, we can't go on fighting against each other, with every man for
his own particular subject," said Drew, "we must take our turns.  We've
been cast on a perfect naturalist's paradise, with the world turned
upside down, as if for our special advantage."

"Yes," said Panton; "we could not possibly have hit upon a place more
full of tempting objects."

"But what about our exploration in New Guinea?" said Oliver.

"This may be the western end of that island," said Panton.  "But where's
the volcano that has caused all this mischief?"

"Yonder," said Oliver, pointing, "behind the cloud."

The others looked at a dense curtain of mist which rose from the earth,
apparently to the skies, and hid everything in that quarter, the
desolation extending apparently for a couple of miles in the direction
of the curtain, beyond that the ground rose in a glorious slope of
uninjured verdure, and then came the great cloud of mist or smoke
shutting off the mountain, or whatever was beyond.

"But where is the sea?" said Oliver.

"All run down through a big hole into the earth, I say," said a deep
voice.  "Well, gentlemen, how are you?"

"Ah, Mr Rimmer, good morning," cried Oliver, shaking hands.  "How are
your hurts?"

"Oh, better my lad, and yours?"

"Only a bit stiff and achy.  But who's to think of injuries in such a
glorious place?"

"Glorious!" said the mate, screwing up his face.  "Look about you.
Everything's destroyed."

"Oh, yes," said Drew; "but in a month it will be all green again and as
beautiful as ever!"

"Except my poor brig," said the mate.  "Why, she's regularly planted
here in the mud and sand, and, unless she strikes root and grows young
vessels, she's done for."

"But where is the sea?" cried Oliver.

The mate looked round him and then pointed south-west.

"Yonder, if there is any," he said.

"How do you know?"

"Trees all standing in the other direction, and yes, there are others
out that way," he said, pointing.  "It's plain enough, the wave swept
right across this low level.  You can see how the trunks lie and how the
rocks and the shells have been borne along.  Far as I can make out the
wave has cleared a track about a dozen miles wide.  May be twenty.  Why,
you gentlemen seemed to be quite pleased."

"Why not?" cried Oliver.  "It's grand.  Look at the work cut out for us.
We want all the British Museum staff to help."

"Better have my crew, then, for there's nothing for us to do.  The
brig's fast settled down on an even keel.  I say, Mr Panton, kick me or
pinch me, please."

"What for?"

"Because I must be asleep and all this a dream.  No, it's real enough,"
he said, sadly; "wait till I get a glass."

He went back to the cabin and returned directly with a telescope.

"I'll go up to the main-top," he said, "and have a look round."

The three naturalists were too much taken up by the endless objects of
interest spread around them to pay much heed to his words, so that he
had mounted to the main-top and then to the topgallant masthead before
his words took their attention again, just too, as plainly enough they
could make a huge animal of the crocodile kind slowly crawling along the
edge of a pool about a quarter of a mile away.

"Here you are, gentlemen," the mate shouted.

"Yes, what is it?" cried Oliver, in answer to his hail.

"You can trace it all from here with the glass.  There is some sea
left."

"So I suppose," said Panton drily.

"Lies about four miles away to the east-'ard, and the land's swept right
up to us, and then away north-west for a dozen miles, I should say, to
the sea on that side."

"Can you make out the mountain?"

"No; there's nothing but cloud to the norrard.  I expect it's there, and
not very far away."

"And how far-off is the nearest sea?" asked Oliver.

"'Bout four miles."

"And what do you make this out to be--an island?"

"Can't say, sir.  Island or peninsula.  Can't be mainland.  But I shall
be able to settle that before long."

He reached the deck just as the men were coming up from the forecastle,
and they were soon at work swabbing the planks, squaring yards, shaking
out the sails to dry, and getting the vessel in order just as if she
were at sea, while the cook and steward attended to their work as coolly
as if nothing had happened.

At mid-day the mate had taken his observations and marked down their
position on the chart just where the map showed a broad blank in the
Arafura Sea.

"But are you right?" said Oliver, as he followed the mate's pointing
finger.

"As right as my knowledge of navigation will let me be, sir," said the
mate quietly.  "That's where we are."

"But where is that?"

"Just nowhere, sir."

"But--"

"We're very cunning, sir, and think we know the whole world and
everything there is; but now and then we find out that we are not so
clever as we thought, and that there is just a little more to learn.  I
said that we were nowhere just now, which isn't quite correct, because
we are here; but it strikes me that we're in a spot where no civilised
vessel ever was before."

"What, right on shore?" said Oliver, smiling.

"No, sir, I didn't mean that.  I meant no vessel ever touched here
before, or it would have been marked down in the chart.  Savages have
been, perhaps.  Maybe they're here still, but they have been frightened
into their holes by the eruption."

Oliver looked out of the open cabin window as if expecting to see a
party of the people coming, but he only made out something living in one
of the pools left by the flood wave.

"I'm very sorry, gentlemen, the captain and I undertook to cruise with
you along the New Guinea coast; but man proposes and--you know the rest.
Here we shall have to stay till some vessel comes in sight to take us
off, and to that end I propose that to-morrow morning we begin to make
expeditions to the coast, and set up a spar here and there with a bit of
bunting showing for a signal of distress."

"No, don't--that is--not yet," said Oliver, excitedly.  "No place that
you could have found would have equalled this."

"If we have no more eruptions," said Drew.

"And earthquake waves," added Panton.

"I think we have been most fortunate," cried Oliver.

"Oh, well, if you're satisfied, gentlemen," said the mate, "I'm sure I
am.  You mean to begin looking for your bits of stone and butterflies
then, here?"

"Of course," cried Oliver; "and we can live on board just as if we were
at sea."

"Oh, yes," said the mate drily; "and you'll always be able to find the
brig.  She won't stir just yet, and there's no need to lower down an
anchor.  Very well, then, gentlemen, so be it; and now, if you please,
we'll go down and make our way across yonder where those trees are
standing, and do our duty by our poor dead friend."

Silence fell upon the group at this, and an hour later the whole of the
crew were standing upon an eminence about a couple of miles from the
ship, where the earthquake wave had passed on, leaving the beautiful
trees and undergrowth uninjured, and save at the edge they had escaped
the storm.

Here in the wonderful solitude, where the sun's rays fell in silver rain
upon the newly turned black earth, the dead captain was laid to take his
long last sleep; and sad, but still lightened in heart, the party
returned to the _Planet_ to talk over their plans for the morrow, when
the first exploration of the unknown land was to commence.

Still weary from the shock and exertions of the past days, bed was
sought in pretty good time, and Oliver Lane lay in his berth close to
the open cabin window for some time in a half dreamy fashion, inhaling
the soft warm air, and fancying now and then that a puff of hot
sulphurous steam was wafted in through the window.  Then he listened to
a dull low singing and murmuring noise, quite plain now in the distance
as if steam was rising from the ground.  Anon came a loud splashing and
wallowing as of some large beast making its way through water, and this
was followed by a series of heavy blows apparently struck on the land or
liquid sand.  Gasping sighs, the smacking of lips, and then again hisses
and noises, which made the listener ask himself whether there could be
dangerous beasts about, and whether it was wise for the mate to have a
couple of stout planks laid from the gangway down to the sand in which
the brig was bedded.

But somehow these things ceased to trouble him.  The noises were
undoubtedly caused by fishes or crocodiles, which would not come on
board, and he dropped off to sleep, and then awoke, as if directly, to
lie staring at the dim cabin lamp against the roof, and wonder what was
the meaning of the heavy feeling of oppression from which he suffered.

"Was it a nightmare?" he asked himself.  Certainly there was something
upon his chest, and it was moving.  He could feel it plainly stirring
all over him, and he was about to give himself a violent wrench when
something passed between his eyes and the cabin lantern--something so
horrible that it froze all his faculties into a state of inaction.  For
he saw distinctly the glistening of burnished scales, and a serpent's
head at the end of an undulating neck, and directly after a forked
flickering tongue touched and played about his face.



CHAPTER FOUR.

SNAKES.

"It's only a dream-nightmare; but how horribly real," said Oliver Lane
to himself, as a feeling of resignation came over him, and he lay there
waiting for his imagination to be darkened over by a deeper sleep.

For there was an utter cessation of all sense of fear, and in quite a
philosophical fashion, he began to think of how clear it all was, and
how his mind could occupy mentally the position of a spectator, and look
on at the vivid picture in which his body was playing so important a
part.

"I know how it is," he thought; "I asked myself this afternoon whether
the writhing creatures I saw moving about in the mud were sea-snakes,
and directly after I began looking away among the trees, and wondering
whether there were any big boas among their branches.  One generally can
trace one's dreams."

And all the time the weight upon his chest increased, and the pressure
grew more suffocating, while the serpent's head played about his lips,
touching them from time to time with its moist, cool tongue.

He felt then that, in accordance with all he had read, the monster would
now begin to cover him with what the wild beast showman call "its
serlimer," and then proceed to swallow him slowly, till he lay like a
great knot somewhere down its distended body, while the reptile went to
sleep for a month.

"And that wouldn't do for me," thought Oliver, as he felt quite amused
at the thought.  "I want to be up and doing; so, as all these horrible
nightmare dreams come to an end, and as writers say, just at the most
intense moment--then I awoke, I think I've had enough of this, and that
it's time I did wake up."

At that moment a shudder ran through him, and he turned cold.  A deathly
dank perspiration broke from every pore, and he lay absolutely
paralysed.

He was awake.  He knew it well enough now.  No nightmare could be so
vivid, and in no dream was it possible for him who had it to, as it
were, stand aside from the sufferer, as he had imagined.  Yes, he was
wide awake, and this great reptile had nestled to him for the sake of
heat, after being half drowned by the flood.  For after undulating its
neck for a few moments longer, it lowered its crest, and in place of
seizing him with its widely distending jaws, let its head sink down upon
his throat and then lay as if enjoying the warmth from his body, and
about to settle off to sleep.

What to do?

It was plain enough; so long as he lay perfectly still there was nothing
to fear, for the reptile's visit was neither inimical nor in search of
food.  It had evidently glided up the plank slope and through the
gangway to escape from the chilling wet ground, then made its way into
the cabin and found the young man's berth pleasantly attractive.  But
Oliver felt that the slightest movement on his part might incense the
creature and rouse within it a feeling that it was being attacked and a
desire to crush its aggressor.

He knew well enough how wonderfully rapid the motions of a reptile were,
and that in all probability if he stirred he would the next moment, be
wrapped with lightning speed within its folds, and crushed to death.

The muscular strength of these creatures was, he knew, prodigious; even
an eel of two or three feet long could twine itself up in a knot that
was hard to master, hence a serpent of fifteen or twenty feet in length
would, he felt, crush him in an instant.

Oliver Lane lay sick with horror.  The weight upon his chest grew
unbearable, and the desire to cast it off stronger minute by minute, as
he lay motionless, with his oppressor quite invisible now.

Panton was in the berth above him, Drew upon the other side of the
cabin, and along the beams there were guns and rifles hanging ready for
use, while a faintly heard tread overhead told him that the watch was on
the alert.  But though help and means of defence were so near and ready,
they seemed to be too far-off to avail him much, and hence he still did
not stir.

Twenty or thirty feet he felt the creature must be, and of enormous
thickness.  They could not, then, be upon an isle, he thought, for such
a creature must be an inhabitant of the mainland.  But what could he do,
with the weight increasing now?  He could not possibly bear it much
longer, for the reptile must be far longer than he had first imagined--
forty feet at least.

At last, after vainly hoping that the serpent might grow restless and
leave him, he felt that he must make some effort, and determined to call
to his comrades for help.

But he hesitated, for what would be the consequences?  The monster would
be aroused by the noise and the first movement he made; and if it did
not attack him, it would seize Drew or Panton, who would wake up in
complete ignorance of the danger at hand.  They could not use their guns
there, in the narrow cabin, and the serpent would be master of the
field.

No; he dare not call for them to help him, nor speak till some one came
into the cabin, for in all probability Mr Rimmer was on deck and would
come down soon.

A hundred wild thoughts flocked through Oliver Lane's brain, as he lay
there half-suffocated, and felt how hard it was to have escaped from the
terrible dangers of the volcanic eruption to find his end in the embrace
of a loathsome serpent.

At last his mind was made up to what seemed to be the only way of
escape.  He determined to try and collect his energies, and then, after
drawing a long deep breath, suddenly heave the monster off him on to the
cabin floor.  This he knew--if he were successful--would enrage it, but
at the same time it might make for the companion-way and escape on to
the deck--to attack the watch!

He hesitated at this for a few moments, but self-preservation is the
first law of nature, and the watch would hear the alarm and be able to
ascend the rigging, out of the creature's reach.

"I must do it," thought Oliver, "before I become too weak, for he's
sixty feet long if an inch," and beginning softly to draw in a deep
breath, he felt, to his horror, a slight gliding motion on the part of
the reptile, as if the heaving up were making it uncomfortable.

Oliver Lane lay motionless again, gathering force for his great effort.
His mind was now wonderfully active, and the serpent had grown to fully
a hundred feet long.  Feeling that it was sheer cowardice to be passive,
he was about to make a desperate effort to throw off his incubus, when
there was a shout on deck, answered by Mr Rimmer's voice, evidently in
a great state of excitement, but what was said could not be made out in
the cabin.  In fact, Oliver had his own business to mind, for at the
first sound from the deck the serpent raised its head, and he could see
its tongue quivering and gleaming in the light, and the neck wavering,
while the whole of its great length began to glide over him in different
directions, as if every fold was in motion.

The noise on deck increased; there was the sound of yells and shouts;
then came a crack, as if someone had struck the bulwark a heavy blow,
which was followed by the quick trampling of feet and the mate's voice
giving directions.

By this time the serpent's head had been lowered, and as the movement of
its body increased, Oliver knew that the reptile was gliding down from
the berth on to the cabin floor and to endorse this came the feeling of
the weight passing off from his chest.

"What is it?  What's the matter?" cried Panton, waking up, and, directly
after, Drew asked what was "up."

"Don't know," cried Panton.  "Where's Lane?  Hi!  Lane, old chap, wake
up!  There's something wrong on deck."

He made a movement to swing his legs out on to the floor and Oliver
tried hard to utter a word of warning, but he could not.  His tongue was
tied--the power to speak utterly gone; and he could only lie there,
feeling the last folds of the serpent glide out of his berth as his
friend lowered his bare feet, and then uttered a yell of horror, and
dragged them back again, just as, consequent upon his action, a quick
rustling sound was heard.

"What is it?" cried Drew, excitedly.

"Snake--serpent!" groaned Panton.  "I put my feet right upon its back."

"Ugh!" grunted Drew, drawing back his own feet as the quick rustling
sound went on.  "Look!  There it goes out of the door.  A monster.
Where's Lane?"

"Here!" sighed the young man in a voice which he did not know for his
own.

"Look out!  Big snake!"

"I know it," panted Oliver.  "Woke up--on my chest."

"Here, get a gun, someone," cried Panton; "the brute must be in the
companion-way in ambush."

But no one stirred.

"I say, Lane, can't you reach a gun without getting out of bed?" said
Panton, in a piteous tone of voice.  "They're over on your side."

"Yes; as soon as I can get my breath," replied Oliver.  "I'm rather
giddy and stupid yet."

"I don't know about giddy," grumbled Drew.

"Then you think I am the other thing?" said Oliver, rather huskily.
"All right; but if you had had that great brute upon your chest this
last hour, you would be stupid."

"Oh, I beg your pardon, old fellow!" cried Drew hastily.  "I really
didn't know.  But, I say, what is going on upon deck?"

The answer came at once from Mr Rimmer, who hurried into the cabin.

"Here, gentlemen, for goodness' sake come on deck!" he cried, as he
snatched down a double gun.  "We've got a visitor there."

"Yes, I know--a great serpent," said Oliver.

"Eh!--how did you know?" cried the mate, as he examined the piece to see
if it was loaded.

"Lane has had it in bed with him."

"What!  That's nice!  Look sharp, gentlemen; bring your guns and I can
promise you some nice shooting, though it's rather dark.  The brute has
taken possession of the deck, and we've been hitting at it with
hand-spikes, but every crack only made him wag his tail and hiss at us.
There; hark at them; they must have got him into a corner."

For the shouts and the sound of blows came again, louder than ever.

"There, I'm off; but make haste; and mind how you shoot, for it's rather
dark--only starlight."

The young men hurriedly slipped on their trousers, and each took a
double gun and proceeded to load.

"Swan shot?" suggested Oliver.  "It's a huge brute."

"Never fired at a snake in my life," said Panton; "but I owe this brute
something for scaring me.  Ready?"

"Yes, ready," was the response; and they all stepped up on deck to go
cautiously forward with their pieces at full cock to where the noise and
confusion were still going on.

"Hi!  Look out!" cried Oliver, as they advanced, and, raising his piece,
he fired at something shadowy which he made out by the light of the
stars gliding slowly along beneath the bulwarks.

The gun flashed, and the report was followed by a loud hissing, and a
violent blow, as if some enormous whip had been lashed at the three, who
were thrown to the deck, their legs being swept from under them.

"Hi!--this way," cried the mate from forward.  "We've got him here."

They sprang up and hurried forward, Oliver recharging his piece with a
fresh cartridge as they went, but only in time to hear another report,
for the mate fired, and the men uttered a shout as a more violent
scuffling noise arose.

"That's settled him," cried the mate.  "Here, get the lanterns down;
we'll soon have him out of that.  Big one, isn't he?"

This to Oliver, who looked down at the deck to see, heaving and
throbbing as if there were plenty of life in it still, about seven or
eight feet of the tail part of a great serpent, the rest of the reptile
being down in the forecastle, into which it was making its way when the
mate gave it a shot.

"Yes, the brute!" cried Oliver excitedly.  "It woke me by crawling into
my berth."

"Well, he won't do that again.  Smith had a cut at him with an axe, and
I a shot.  Now, then, lay hold, some of you, and let's haul the beggar
out."

The men hesitated, but the mate ejaculated and seized the tail, which
immediately twitched and threw him off, making everyone laugh.

"Oh, that's nothing," said the mate, taking a fresh grip.  "I know I
gave it a death wound.  Come along, lay hold, you're not afraid of a
snake?"

Two of the men came up rather unwillingly, and, seizing hold together,
they gave a sharp drag and drew it out, writhing and twining still, and
beating its bleeding head upon the white deck.

"Shall I give it another shot?" cried Oliver excitedly.

"Waste of a good cartridge, sir," said the mate.  "It is nearly dead
now.  Muscular contractions, that's all."

"Ahoy!  Hi!  Look out!"

"Oh, murder!" shouted someone.

"Why didn't you speak sooner, mate?" cried another from where he lay
close up under the bulwarks.  For the wounded serpent had suddenly
lashed out with its tail, and flogged two of the men over with its
violent blows.

"I say, sir," said the first man, "hadn't I better cut his muscular
contractions off with a haxe afore he clears the deck?"

"No, no, Smith, don't do that," cried Oliver, "you would spoil its
skin."

"Well, sir, but if he don't, he'll spoil our'n," said the sitting man.

"That's a true word, Billy Wriggs," said Smith, in a grumbling tone, as
he began to rub himself.  "If I'd my way, I'd chuck the beggar
overboard."

"What's the good o' that, matey, when there arn't no water?  You can't
drown sarpents in dry earth."

"Hi!  Look out!" shouted the men in a chorus, for the reptile began to
beat the deck again, as it twisted and twined and flogged about with its
muscular tail, which quivered and waved here and there, sending the men
flying.  One minute the creature was tied up in a knot, the next gliding
here and there, as if seeking a way to escape.

Gun after gun was raised to give it a shot, but its movements were so
eccentric, that the best marksman would have found it a difficult task
by daylight; there in the shadowy darkness it would have been
impossible.

No one present had any hesitation about giving the brute a wide berth,
and at the end of a minute or two it uncoiled itself and lay in
undulations, showing its length pretty plainly.

"That was its flurry," said the mate, advancing now, and the men came
down from the shrouds, the top of the galley, and out of the boats where
they had taken refuge; "but perhaps we had better pitch it over the side
till morning."

A low murmur arose from the men.

"What's that?" cried the mate sharply.  "Are you afraid of the thing?"

"Well, sir, not exactly afraid," said Smith respectfully, "only you see
it arn't like handling a rope."

"Yah!"

A tremendous shout or rather yell from away aft, and the sailor who had
taken refuge in that direction, now came running forward.

"What's the matter, Wriggs?" cried the mate.

"Seen his ghost, sir," groaned the man, who looked ghastly by the light
of the lanterns.

"What?" cried the mate, as the three naturalists headed the shout of
laughter which rose from the crew.

"Ah, you may laugh," grumbled the man, wiping the perspiration from his
face, "but there it is all twissen up by the wheel and it made a snap at
me as I got close up."

"You're a duffer," roared the mate.  "Look here, my lads, he has seen
the big hawser."

"No, sir," cried Wriggs, striking one hand heavily into the other, as a
burst of laughter arose.  "I see that there sarpent's sperrit twissen up
round the wheel and the binnacle, and if you don't believe me, go and
see.  Ah!  Look out: here it comes."

The man made a dash to get right forward out of the way, but, in his
excitement, tripped over the body of the serpent lying gently heaving
upon the deck, went headlong, yelling in his fear, and rolled over and
over to the side.

But little attention was paid to him, the men thinking of nothing else
but retreating, for from out of the gloom aft, and making a strange
rustling in its serpentine course, a reptile, largely magnified by dread
and the gloom, came gliding towards them with its crest raised about
eight inches from the planks.

For a moment or two, as the men hurried away, the little party from the
cabin stood staring in wonder.

"Run, gentlemen, run," shouted Smith.  "He'll be orfle savage.  T'ain't
a ghost, it's t'other half.  I knowed I cut him in two when I let go
with the haxe."

"I know," cried Oliver, excitedly.

"Yes, sir.  It's t'other half, sir," yelled Smith, who had swung himself
up on one of the stays, where he clung like a monkey.  "Shoot, sir,
shoot, or it'll grow out a noo head and tail and be worse and more
savager than ever."

"Yes," said Oliver to himself, "I'll shoot," and he fired both barrels
of his piece as soon as he had a chance.

The effect was instantaneous.  One moment the monster was writhing
itself into a knot, the next it had rapidly untwined, and was gliding
over the bulwarks, the later part rolling over rapidly, like a huge
piece of cable, dimly seen, as it was carried down by an anchor.

"That's him," cried Smith; "but you didn't kill him, sir, or he wouldn't
have got over the side like that.  It was best half on him.  My: what a
whopper!"

Oliver ran to the side, followed by his friends, but they could see
nothing below in the darkness, only hear the rustling noise of the beast
writhing farther and farther away, the sound ceasing at the end of a
minute, when they turned inboard.

"You didn't kill the other half," said Mr Rimmer, laughing.

"No, I wish I had," cried Oliver.  "That was the beast that startled me.
These things go in pairs, and the one you killed there was the second
one come in search of its mate.  Is it dead?" he continued, giving the
long lithe body of the reptile upon the deck a thrust with his foot.

The answer came from the serpent itself, for it began to glide along
under the bulwarks once more, making now, blindly enough, for the
gangway, and as no one seemed disposed to stop it, the creature
disappeared through the side and down the sloping planks to the earth.

"Look at that!" said Smith to one of his mates, as he lightly dropped on
deck, "young Mr Lane thinks that's another sarpent, but we knows
better, eh, lad?  I chopped that there beggar clean in half, and one bit
went forrard and t'other went aft."

"Yes, that's it," said Billy Wriggs, "and it was the head half as went
aft."

"Nay, it was the tail," said Smith.  "This here was the head bit."

"Now, what's the good o' bein' so orbstinit, mate," said Wriggs,
reproachfully.  "Think I don't know?  I tell yer it was the head bit as
went and twissened itsen round the binnacle and wheel, a-lying in wait
for us poor sailors to go there and take our trick, when he meant to
gobble us up.  Don't matter how long a sarpent is, he can't bite you
with his tail end."

"No; but he could sting with it; couldn't he?" said another man.

"Well, yes," said Smith, thoughtfully, "he might do summat o' that sort.
If so be as we finds him lying dead.  But I doubts it.  Them sort o'
beasts, mates, is full o' bad habits, and I shouldn't a bit wonder if
this here critter crawls right away into the woods and lay hisself
neatly together to make a fit, and then waits till it all grows together
again, like graftin'."

"Think so, mate?" said Wriggs.

"Ay, that I do.  Nat'ral hist'ry's the rummiest thing as I knows on, and
that there young Mr Lane, as is a nat'ralist by purfession, knows a
wonderful lot about it.  Talk about conjuring; why, that's nowhere.  I
see him one day take a drop out of a bucket o' water on a slip o' glass
and sets it on the cabin table."

"Why, you don't live in the cabin," growled one of the men.

"Yes, I do, mate, when he asts me to carry him in a bucket o' water, so
now then!  Well, matey, he goes then to a little m'ogany box and he
takes out a tool like a young spy-glass, and sets the slip under it, and
shoves his eye to one end and screws it about a bit, and then he says,
says he, `Now then Smith, would you like a peep into another world?'
`Yes, sir,' I says, `I should.'  `Then just clap yer hye here,' he says,
and I did, and there you could see right into a big sea, with a whacking
great brute lying in the bottom, like a sugar hogshead, with a lot o'
borcome structures got their heads in, and their long tails all waving
about outside.  He said it was a fusorior or something o' that kind, and
all in that drop o' water, as looked as clear as cryschal when he took
it out o' the bucket.  Ah, he can show you something, he can."

"I know," said Billy Wriggs, "it was a mykreescope."

"Dessay it was," said Smith.  "It might ha' been anything.  It's
wonderful what there is in nat're, my lads.  Pity though as a man's
hands and legs and arms don't grow again, as some things does."

"Tchah!  They don't," said Billy Wriggs.

"What?  Why, they do, lots of 'em.  Don't lobsters' claws grow again,
and lizards tails, and starfishes arms?  What yer got to say to that?
Mr Lane tells me that there's some kinds o' worms as when you cuts
their heads off they grows again, and their tails too.  There we are,
though--to-morrow morning."

The man was right, for day was breaking, and, after the manner of the
tropics, where there is scarcely any dawn, the sun soon rose to light up
the desolation around the ship, where the earthquake wave had swept
along, piling up sand and rock with heaps formed of torn-up trees, lying
near the pools of water which remained in the depressions of the sand.

"Swabs," cried Mr Rimmer, coming forward, and buckets of water being
fetched, the unpleasant stains left by the wounded serpents were soon
moved, though the shot marks remained.

While the men were cleansing the deck and removing the traces left by
the storm, a little party of three, all well armed, set off to try and
trace the serpents and to get a truthful knowledge of their size, the
darkness having given rather an exaggerated idea of their dimensions.
In addition, if found dead, it was proposed to skin them for specimens,
and to this end Smith accompanied them, declaring his willingness to
master his fear of the reptiles and help in any way.

Before leaving the ship they took a good look round, at what promised to
be a beautiful resting-place, as soon as the vegetation began to spring
again, as it was certain to do in that moist tropical heat.  Then taking
it for granted that the serpents would make for cover, the steps of the
little party were directed towards the nearest trees, a clump upon a
broad elevated spot which had escaped the devastations caused by the
wave and not many hundred yards from the ship.

"Seems rum, gentlemen," said Smith as they shouldered their guns, and
strode off with a wonderful feeling of elasticity and freedom, after
their long cooping up on board ship.

"What does?" said Oliver.

"The brig, sir.  Ups and downs in life we see.  Here was she built
ashore, launched and then goes on her voyages, and then all at once she
is launched again t'other way on, as you may say, and run up on land to
stay till she dies."

"Unless we dig a canal back to the sea and float her, Smith," said
Oliver.

"Zackly so, sir, but you'd want ten hundred thousand niggers to do the
work."

"And the weekly wages bill would be rather big," said Drew.

"Look out," said Oliver, who was bending down and carefully examining
the ground.

"What for?" asked Panton, cocking his piece.

"The serpents.  Here is some dried blood."

"And here's a mark, sir," added Smith excitedly.  "One of the bits come
along here."

"Yes.  I can see another mark," cried Panton.  "Look."  He pointed to
what resembled the impression that would have been made by a large yard
laid in a patch of half-dried mud in a depression, for either going or
coming, a serpent had evidently passed along there.

The trees were close at hand now, and covered a far greater space than
they had imagined.  The spot was rugged too, with great masses of stone,
which showed amongst the trunks and undergrowths, while opposite to them
there was a black cavernous rift, as if the rock had been suddenly split
open, all of which had been previously hidden by the dense growth.

"This is going to prove a lovely place," said Oliver eagerly.

"Ah!  Too late.  Did you see it?"

For a bird had suddenly hopped into view over the top of a bush, and,
before the young naturalist could bring his gun to bear, darted out of
sight among the foliage, giving those who saw it the impression of a
vivid flash of fiery scarlet passing rapidly before their eyes.

"You're all right now," said Panton.  "There are plenty of birds."

"Yes, and so are you two," replied Oliver.  "Look at the rocks and
trees."

"Hi!  Gents, look out," cried the sailor.  "Here we are."

The gun-locks clicked as the man started back after pointing before him
at the narrow opening in the rocks, and upon Oliver carefully advancing,
there lay just visible some dozen feet within the gloomy rift, about ten
or a dozen inches of a serpent's tail, the reptile having taken refuge
in the cavernous place.

"Here's one of them evidently," said Oliver, holding his gun ready.

"Yes, sir, tail end of him."

Oliver laughed.

"Have it your own way.  But come along, Smith.  Here's a chance to
distinguish yourself.  Step forward and lay hold of the end, and pull
the thing out.  We'll cover you with our guns."

"You don't mean it, sir, do you?"

"Indeed, but I do."

"Well, sir, begging your pardon, as a man as wants to do his duty, it
ar'nt to be done."

"All right, I'm not your captain, but if you will not, I must!"

"No, no, you'd better not," cried Panton.

"Pooh, the brute's dead, or nearly so.  Will you go, Drew?"

"What, and pull that thing out of its hole?  No.  If it was a strange
plant."

"Yes, or some wonderful mineral, but a huge snake.  Ugh!"

"Hold my gun, Smith," said Oliver.  "I mean to have that fellow's skin,
but I expect he will be pretty heavy."

He handed his gun to the sailor, and stepped cautiously forward,
separating the tangle of creepers, which hung down from above, and
clambering over loose fragments of lava-like rock, found that he was at
the entrance of what was evidently a rift penetrating far into the
bowels of the earth, while a strange feeling of awe came over him, as he
now became aware of low hissing and muttering sounds, evidently from
somewhere far below.

"Quick's the word!" said the young man to himself, and stepping boldly
in he seized hold of the serpent's tail with both hands, and at his
touch galvanised it into life, for it gave a violent jerk, which dragged
him off his feet.  At the same moment, the loose blocks of stone beneath
him gave way, and to the horror of his companions, there was a rustling
sound as of an avalanche being set in motion, Oliver uttered a loud cry
as he disappeared; then came a hollow booming roar, a whispering echo,
and all was still.



CHAPTER FIVE.

LANE'S ESCAPE.

"Lane!" shouted Panton, hurrying forward toward where his friend had
disappeared.

"Mind! take care!" yelled Drew.  "Here, you Smith, run back to the ship
for ropes and help."

"And leave him like that, sir?" cried the sailor.  "Not me; I'm a-going
after him, that's my job now."

The man stepped quickly forward to where Panton had paused, holding on
by a mass of lava, and peering into the huge rift.

"Hold on a moment, sir," cried the man, who had now set aside his dread
of the serpents, and placing his hand to his mouth, he sent forth a
tremendous "Mr Lane, ahoy!"

His voice echoed right away into the depths, and set some fragments of
stone falling with a low whispering sound but there was no reply.

"Mind!" cried Panton, excitedly, and seizing the sailor's arm, he jerked
him away so roughly, that the man caught his heel and fell backwards
over and over among the stones and creeping growth at the mouth of the
rift, while Panton himself beat a rapid retreat.

"I see him," grumbled Smith, "but I warn't going to him now," and he
rose to his knees, as the wounded serpent so rudely seized by Oliver
Lane glided by him, hissing loudly; "I say, never mind that thing now,
gents.  Come and help Mr Lane."

A couple of reports came close upon his words, for Drew had fired at the
escaping serpent, which now writhed in amongst the bushes, evidently in
its death throes.

"Why, here's t'other bit under me," said Smith, as he rose to his feet
and looked down at where, half hidden, the other serpent had crawled
back to its lair to die.  In fact the man had fallen upon it, and its
soft body had saved him from a severe contusion.

But somehow the horror of the reptile was gone in one far greater, and,
trembling with eager excitement, Smith began to make his way cautiously
inward again, stepping carefully on till a stone gave way, and fell
rattling down what was evidently a very steep slope.

"I shall have to go down," muttered the man, "I can't leave the poor lad
there.  Ah, that's right!" he cried as Panton's voice rang out,--"Ropes.
Bring ropes."

"Yes, I may as well have a rope round me," muttered Smith.  Then loudly,
"Mr Lane, ahoy!"

There was no answer, and he called again and again without avail.  Then
a thought striking him, he got out his matchbox, struck a light, lit
several, waited till the splints were well ablaze, and let them fall
down burning brightly, but revealing nothing.

"I can't stand this here," he muttered, and feeling his way cautiously,
he lowered himself down till he could get good foothold, and was in the
act of descending farther, when steps approached, and the mate's voice
was heard in company with Panton's.

"Here, one of you, run back for a lantern," cried the mate as he hurried
to the mouth of the chasm.  "Ahoy there, Mr Lane; Smith!"

"Ahoy it is, sir," came from below.

"Hold hard, my lad, and make this rope fast around you.  Know where Mr
Lane is?"

The man made no answer for a minute, as he caught and secured the rope
about him.

"No, sir, I can't make out, but I'm a-going to see," he muttered between
his teeth--"I mean feel, for we're having nothing but darkness this
voyage."

"I'll send a lantern down after you directly, my lad.  Ready?"

"Ay, ay, sir.  Lower away."

"No, better wait for the light.  It is like pitch down there."

"Ay, 'tis, sir, but that poor lad's waiting for help."

"Yes, I know, my man, but you must try to see where he is.  Hi! anybody
coming with that light?"

"Yes, the man's coming," cried Drew.

"What's that?" said the mate, sharply, as he leaned over the yawning
hollow, rope in hand; "that peculiar odour?"

"What, that smell, sir?" said Smith.  "I dunno, sir, it's like as if
someone had been burning loocifers.  Why, of course, I struck some and
let 'em fall."

"Ah, that's better!" cried the mate, as a lantern was handed to him by
Panton; and, passing the free end of the rope through the handle, he ran
it along till it was all through, and he could let the light glide down
to the sailor.

"That's all right, sir.  Now, then, shall I climb or will you lower me
down?"

"Try both, we'll keep a good hold.  Heaven help him, I hope he has not
gone far.  Take hold here.  No, Mr Panton, let the men.  They are
better used to handling a rope.  Now, then lower away."

Smith began to descend with the lantern, and, as the mate and Panton
gazed down, they could dimly make out that below them was a wide jagged
crack, descending right away; while in front, a portion of the crack
through the stone ran forward at a gradual slope, forming a cavern.

"Keep a sharp look out, my lad.  Ah! mind! don't kick the stones down."

"Can't help it, sir.  It's all a big slope here, with the stones waiting
to go down with a jump."

Proof of this came directly, a touch sending pieces bounding and rushing
down in a way that must have been fatal to anyone below.

The mate uttered a low ejaculation, and Panton drew in his breath with a
peculiar hiss, as they heard the fragments go on bounding and rebounding
below in the awful darkness, while the peculiar odour which the mate had
noticed came up more strongly now.

"See him?" cried Mr Rimmer.

"No, sir.  Lower away."

"Lower away, my lads.  Here, you Tomlin, run back and get a couple more
lengths.  Quick."

The man darted off, and his comrades lowered away, while Panton and Drew
stood with their heads bent and eyes strained to catch a glimpse of
their friend in the dim light cast by the lantern now far below.

"It's all one slope, sir, right away down," cried Smith.

"Yes, can you make out the bottom?"

"No, sir.  Don't seem to be none.  Lower away."

"Ahoy.  Help!"

The cry was faint, but it sent a thrill through all gathered at the
mouth of the chasm.

"Ahoy!" roared Smith, as he violently agitated the rope.  "All right, my
lad, coming.  Aloft there with the line.  No, no, no, don't lower; haul.
I'm too low down now."

The men gave a cheer, and began to haul up till the mate checked them.

"That right?" he cried to the sailor.

"Little higher, sir.  Couple o' fathom.  He's on a bit of a shelf,
'cross a hole, and I shall have to swing to him."

"That do?" cried the mate in the midst of the breathless excitement.

"Yes, that's about it, sir.  Now, then, make fast.  I'm going to swing."

"Right!"

Then the lantern began to pass to and fro, like a pendulum, and at every
thrust given with his feet by the swinging man, the loose blocks of lava
and pumice went rumbling and crashing down, sending up whispering echoes
and telling of a depth that was absolutely profound.

"Can you manage?" shouted the mate.

"Yes, sir.  That was nearly it," came from below.  "This time does it."

They saw the light swing again a couple of hundred feet beneath them.
Then it was stationary, and every man's breath came with a catch, for
all at once the stones began to glide again; increasing their rush till
it grew tremendous, and the watchers felt that all was over, for the
light disappeared and the odour that ascended was stifling.

"Haul!  Haul!" came from below, sending a spasm of energy through all at
the mouth as they pulled in the rope.

"Steady, steady, my lads," cried the mate.  "Got him?" he shouted.

"Ay, ay!  Haul quick!" came in a stifled voice, and the mate and his
companions felt a chill run through them as they grasped the fact that
Smith was either exhausted or being overcome by the foul gas set at
liberty by the falling stones.

"Haul steady, my lads, and quick," said the mate, as he went down on one
knee.  "No; walk away with the rope."

His order was obeyed, and the next minute he was reaching down as the
dimly seen lantern came nearer and nearer, revealing Smith's ghastly
upturned face and the strange-looking figure he held.  Then, almost flat
upon his chest, the mate made a clutch, which was seconded by Drew,
Panton aiding, and Oliver Lane was lifted out of the chasm and borne
into the open sunshine, slowly followed by Smith, as the men cheered
about the peculiar-looking figure--for clothes, face, hair, Lane was
covered with finely-powdered sulphur, in a bed of which he had been
lying.

"Better get him back to the brig," said the mate.

"No, no!" cried Oliver, rousing himself.  "I shall be better directly; I
struck my head against a block of stone, or one of them struck me.  It
was so sudden.  They gave way all at once, and it was hardly a fall, but
a slide down.  I was stunned though for a few moments."

"A few moments!" cried the mate with a grim laugh.  "Why, my lad, we
were ever so long before we could make you answer."

Oliver looked at him wonderingly, and then turned and held out his hand
to Smith.

"Thank you," he said.  "It was very plucky of you to come down and fetch
me up."

"Oh, I dunno, sir," said the sailor in a half-abashed way.  "Course I
come down; anyone on us would.  But it arn't a nice place, is it?"

"Nice place!" cried Panton, who was full of eager interest as he
examined the fine sulphur clinging to his companion's clothes.  "Why it
must be one of the old vents of the mountain.  You can smell the gases
here."

"You could smell 'em there, sir," said Smith gruffly.  "'Scaping orful.
Thought they'd be too much for me.  Felt as if I must let go."

"I'm better now," said Oliver, rising and drawing a long breath.  "I
say, Mr Rimmer, I'm very sorry to have given you all this trouble."

"Don't say a word about it, sir; but don't go tumbling into any more of
these holes."

"Not if I can help it," said Oliver, smiling.  "But the serpent--what
became of it?"

The mate laughed and shrugged his shoulders.

"We've got them both out here," said Drew.

"Both bits, sir?" asked Smith eagerly.

"Both nonsense, my man: both serpents!  There were two.  Here they are,
pretty well dead now."

Oliver forgot all about the sickening blow he had received, and his
narrow escape, in his eagerness to examine the reptiles which had caused
so much alarm, and his first steps were to ask the men to put a noose
around each, and draw them out into the open.

There was a little hesitation, but the men obeyed, and the two long
tapering creatures were soon after lying in the sun.

"Hadn't you better come and lie down for a bit?" said the mate.

"Oh, nonsense!" cried Oliver good-humouredly.  "Just for a crack on the
head?  I'm right enough, and I want to take the measurement of these
things before they are skinned."

"As you like," said the mate.  "Then we may go back."

"That looks as if I were very ungrateful," cried Oliver, "and I'm not,
Mr Rimmer, believe me."

"Believe you?  Why, of course I do, my lad," cried the mate, clapping
him warmly on the shoulder.

"And you don't want me to lie up for a thing like that, do you?"

"I want you to take care of yourself; that's all, sir.  There, don't
give us another fright.  I daresay you'll find plenty of other dangerous
places.  But what did you say, Mr Panton--that great hole was a vent of
the mountain?"

"Yes, undoubtedly."

"What mountain, sir?"

"The one that was in eruption."

"Yes, but we don't see one!"

"We see its effects," said Panton, "and I daresay we shall see it as
soon as that line of vapour begins to clear away."

He pointed to the long misty bank in the distance, which completely shut
off the view beyond the stretch of forest to the northward.

"Well then, gentlemen, as I have a great deal to do on board, I suppose
I may leave you?"

"Unless you'd like to stop and help skin Lane's snakes?"

"Not I," said the mate merrily.  "There, don't get into any more
trouble, please."

"We'll try not," said Panton; and after the men had neatly coiled up the
lines, they went back with the mate, all but Billy Wriggs, who offered
to stop and help skin the snakes.

"You don't mean it, do you, Billy?" whispered Smith.  "Thought you was
too skeered?"

"So I am, mate; but I want to be long o' you to see their games.  It's
unnatural like to be doin' dooty aboard a wessel as ain't in the water."

"But you won't touch one of they sarpents?"

"Well, I don't want to, mate; but it's all in yer day's work, yer know.
I thought you said it was only one in two halves?"

"So I did, mate--so I did--and so it ought to ha' been, 'cording to my
ideas, and the way I let go at it with a haxe.  But there, one never
knows, and it was in the dark now, warn't it?"

"Seventeen feet, five inches," said Oliver, just then, as he wound up
his measuring tape, "and sixteen feet, four--extreme lengths," as Panton
entered the sizes in Oliver's notebook for him.

"Hark at that now!" said Billy Wriggs in a hoarse whisper.  "Why, I
should ha' said as they was a hundred foot long apiece at least."

"And, arter all, they ain't much bigger than a couple o' worms."

Five minutes later the two men were hard at work skinning the reptiles;
the example set by Oliver in handling them shaming both into mastering
the repugnance they felt, and first one skin and then the other was
stretched over the limb of a tree to dry; while the bodies were dragged
to the cavernous chasm, and tossed down "to cook," as Smith put it.

Meanwhile Drew had been busy examining the trees and plants around; and
Panton had been fascinated, as it were, by the place, picking up
fragments of stone and sulphur-incrusted lava--when he was not listening
to a low hissing, gurgling sound, which told plainly enough that
volcanic action was still in progress, somewhere in the depths below.

"There!" cried Oliver.  "I'm ready.  Where next?"

"Are you fit to go on?" asked Drew.

"Fit?  Yes.  Let's get to a pool and have a wash, and then I'm ready for
anything."

"Some water over yonder, sir," said Smith, pointing to where the sun
flashed from a spot beyond the trees.

"Then let's get to it," said Oliver.  "What do you say to exploring
onward toward the mist bank?"

"I say yes, and let's go through it," cried Panton.  "I want to look at
the mountain.  What's the matter, Smith?  See anything?"

The man held up his hand.

"Hinjun, sir," he whispered.

"Eh!  Where?" cried Drew, cocking his piece.

"Just yonder, sir, past that lot of blocks like an old stone yard; I see
one o' their heads peeping over, and they've got a fire, cooking
something, I should say, for--phew! they can't want it to warm
themselves, for it's hot enough without."

They looked in the direction pointed out, and there, plainly enough, was
the light, fine, corkscrew-like wreath of a pale blue smoke, rising
slowly up beyond quite a wilderness of coral rock, swept there by the
earthquake wave.



CHAPTER SIX.

HOT SPRINGS.

"Tommy Smith, old matey," whispered Wriggs, "why warn't you and me born
different?"

"That 'ere's a question for your godfathers and godmothers, Billy, as
stood sponsors for you when you was born.  But what d'yer mean?"

"Why, so as to be like these here gents and have plenty o' money to
spend in tools o' all kinds."

"Ay, 'twould ha' been nicer, I dessay, matey."

"Course it would.  You see they allus has the right tackle for
everything, and a proper pocket or case to keep it in.  Look at Mr
Panton there, with that there young double-barrelled spy-glass of
his'n."

"Ay, they've each got one-sidy sort o' little barnacle things as they
looks through to make bits o' stone and hinsecks seem big."

"Now, we wants to wash our hands, don't us?"

"Ay, we do, matey," said Smith, raising his to his nose.

"Mine smell a bit snakey and sarpentine, I must say."

"Steam or smoke?" said Drew.

"Both, I think," replied Panton, closing his glass.

"Then the savages has got the pot on and it's cooking," whispered Smith.
"I hope it don't mean a mate."

"Whatcher talking in that there Irish Paddy way?" grumbled Wriggs.
"Can't you say meat?"

"Course I can, old mighty clever, when I wants to.  I said mate."

"I know you did, Tommy, and it's Irish when you means cooking meat."

"Which I didn't mean nothing o' the sort, old lad, but mate.  I meant, I
hoped the savages hadn't got hold of one of our messmates and was
cooking he."

"What!  Canniballs?" whispered Wriggs, looking aghast.  "Why not?
There's plenty on 'em out in these 'ere parts, where the missionaries
ain't put a stopper on their little games, and made 'em eat short pig
i'stead o' long."

"Come, my lads, forward!" said Oliver, who seemed to have quite got over
his adventure.

"Beg pardon, sir," said Smith, "we ain't got no weepons 'cept our
jack-knives; had we better scummage up to 'em?"

"Skirmish?  Oh, no; there is nothing to mind."

"That's what the farmer said to the man about his big dog, sir, but the
dog took a bit out of the man's leg."

"But that wasn't a dog, Smith, it was a cat."

"What, out here, sir, 'long o' the savages?  Think o' their keeping
cats!"

"No, no, you don't understand.  There are no savages here."

"Why, a-mussy me, sir, I see one looking over the stones yonder with my
own eyes."

"You saw a big, cat-like creature, with its round, dark head.  It must
have been a panther, or leopard, or something of that kind."

The sailor looked at him and scratched his ear.

"Mean it, sir?" he said.

"Of course I do.  Come along."

Oliver went on after his two companions, and the sailors followed.

"How about the canniballs, Tommy?" asked Billy Wriggs with a chuckle.

"Here, don't you spoil your figger-head by making them faces," said
Smith, shortly.  "I was right enough, so own up like a man."

"You says, says you, that it was canniballs as had got a pot on over a
fire, and that they was cooking one of our mates."

"Loin! how I do hate a man as 'zaggerates!  I only said I hoped it
warn't.  It's you as put the pot on."

"I didn't!"

"Yes, you did, old lad, and I dessay I was right arter all, 'cept as it
was only one canniball, and he'd got four legs 'stead o' two."

Billy Wriggs chuckled again, and then smelt his hands, looked disgusted,
and scooped up a little moist earth to rub them with.

"Look sharp, they're close up," said Smith, "and I want to see about
what fire there is, and how it come."

"I know; it's one o' they red hot stones as come down and it's set fire
to something."

A minute later they were within fifty yards of the rising vapours, when
Wriggs roared,--"Look out!" and began to run.

For there was a peculiar rushing noise close overhead, followed by a
duet of hoarse cries, and they had a glimpse of a couple of great,
heavily-billed birds, passing close to them in the direction of their
leaders.

Oliver took a quick shot at one and missed, the smoke hiding the second
bird, and they passed on unharmed.

"Hornbills!" he cried, excitedly.  "Come, we shall be able to collect
here."

"Hear that, mate?" whispered Smith, "hornbills, and can't they blow 'em
too?"

They stepped in among the stones and found the cat-like creature's lair
just beneath one of them, and plenty of proofs of how it lived, for
close around lay many of the brightly-coloured feathers it had stripped
from different birds.

"Evidently preyed upon these," said Oliver, eagerly, picking up some of
the feathers to examine.

"Hear that, Tommy?"

"Yes."

"Ain't it gammon?"

"No; nat'ral histry's all true, lad."

"But I never heard o' cats being religious.  I've heard o' their being
wicked and mischievous enough for anything."

"'Ligious!  Why, what have you got hold of now?"

"Nothing.  You heard him too.  He said as the cat prayed on them
feathers."

"Get out.  Don't be a hignoramus.  Wild cats is beasts o' prey."

"He said beasts as pray, and I don't believe it."

"And I don't believe your head's properly stuffed, mate.  Yes, sir," he
continued, as Oliver spoke.  "You call?"

"I said if you want to wash your snakey hands, here's a good chance."

The sailor stepped down into a hollow, above which a little cloud of
vapour hung over a basin of beautifully blue water, enclosed by a fine
drab-coloured stone.  It was not above a foot deep, save in the centre,
where there was a little well-like hole, and a dozen feet across, while
at one side it brimmed over and rippled down and away in a tiny stream,
overhung by beautifully green ferns and water-plants, which were of the
most luxuriant growth.

"Looks good enough for a bath, gentlemen, when you've done," said Smith.

"Try your hands first," said Oliver.  "But wait a moment," and he took a
little case from his pocket, and from it a glass tube with a mercury
bulb.

"Look at that!" whispered Billy Wriggs.  "Tools for everything, mate.
What's he going to do--taste it first?"

"I dunno," said Smith, watching Oliver Lane attentively, as the young
man plunged the mercury bulb in the water, and held it there for a few
moments, and then drew it out.

"Go on, my lads," he said.  "Like some soap?"

As he spoke he took a small metal box out of his pocket, and opened it
to display a neatly fitting cake of soap.

"Look at him," whispered Smith to his companion--"ay, tools for
everything.  Thank-ye, sir," he added as he took the soap, stepped down
close to the edge of the basin, and plunged in his hands, to withdraw
them with a shout of excitement.

"What's the matter?" said Drew, laughing.

"It's hot, sir.  Water's hot!"

"Well, my lad, it is a hot spring.  There's nothing surprising in that.
We're in a volcanic land."

"Are we, sir?" said the man, staring at him.  "And is this volcanic
water?"

"Of course."

"But where does it get hot, sir?"

"Down below."

"What! is there a fire underneath where we are standing?"

"Yes; deep down."

"Then where's the chimney, sir?"

"Out beyond that smoke and steam, I expect.  There, wash your hands.
It's not hot enough to scald your hard skin."

"No, sir; take a deal hotter water than that; but if you'll excuse me,
gents, I'll get away from here, please.  It don't feel safe."

"Give me the soap," said Lane, handing his gun to Panton.

"There, Smith, my lad, a man who comes to such a place as this mustn't
be frightened at everything fresh he sees."

"Oh, I'm not frightened, sir, not a bit," said the man.  "Am I, Billy?"

Wriggs grunted, and this might have meant anything.

"Only you see, sir," continued Smith, "it seems to me as it's a man's
dooty to try and take care of hisself."

"Of course," said Oliver Lane, as he laved his hands.  "What beautiful
soft, silky hot water.  We must come here and have a regular bathe.  It
is nicely shut in."

This to his companions, while Smith stood looking on in horror, and
turned to his messmate.

"Look at him, Billy!  Ain't it just awful?  Come away 'fore we gets let
through, and are boiled to rags."

"Hold yer tongue," growled Wriggs.  "You'll have the gents hear yer.
Ask 'em to let us go back."

"You'll have to analyse this water, Panton," said Lane, as he went on
with his washing.  "There must be a deal of alkali as well as carbonate
of lime in solution."

"Strikes me, mate, as it won't have us in slooshum?" whispered Smith.
"Don't ketch me slooshing myself in it."

The water assumed another shade of blue where Oliver Lane was washing,
while Panton chipped off the petrification formed round the basin, and
Drew examined some peculiar water-plants which grew just where the hot
water issued to form the little stream.

"Be a fortune for anyone if he had it upon his own land in England,"
said Panton.  "Can you see where the spring rises?"

"Yes, down here in the middle, there's quite a pipe.  This must be
similar to what we read about, connected with the geysers?" said Oliver.
"Here, you two, don't be so cowardly.  Come and wash.  Catch!"

He threw the soap to Wriggs, who caught it, let it slip from his
fingers, and it went down into the beautiful blue basin of water with a
splash.

"There, fetch it out!"

Accustomed to obey, Billy Wriggs stepped forward, plunged in his hands,
caught the soap, and kept his fingers beneath the surface.  "Why, it's
lovely, matey!" he cried reproachfully to Smith.  "Here, come on."

"Oh, very well," was the reply, and the sailor approached the basin.
"What's good for you's good for me, mate.  Who's afraid?  Well, I am!"

He was now kneeling, and was in the act of plunging in his hands, when
there was a low gurgling noise, and, as if by magic, the water in the
basin was sucked rapidly down the round central hole that had been
almost invisible, leaving the basin perfectly empty.

"Nearly lost the soap," said Billy Wriggs.

"And I ain't got the wash," cried Smith, in an ill-used tone.

"Beg pardon, sir, what time'll it be high water again?"

_Bang!  Roosh_!

"Murder!" yelled Smith, throwing himself backward and rolling over, for
with an explosion like that of steam, the water gushed up from the
central hole, playing some twenty feet up in the air, filling the basin
and deluging Wriggs before he could escape, and then dragging him back
towards the central hole, down which it began to run, while the man
roared lustily for help.



CHAPTER SEVEN.

A CROCODILE.

As soon as he could get upon his feet Smith ran as he supposed for his
life, but his messmate's call drew him back and he ran as quickly to his
help.  Too late though to render any assistance, for Drew, who was
nearest, leaned forward and caught Wriggs' hand, stopping his progress
toward the centre for the moment, and then his feet glided from beneath
him on the smooth, sloping tufa and he too went down, and had to be
aided by Oliver and Panton, who drew both out just as Smith reached the
edge of the basin.

"Why don't yer mind!" roared the latter, excitedly.  "Want to lie down
there in the hot water and drowned yerself?"

"No, matey, can't say as I do," growled Wriggs, shaking himself as he
edged farther and farther away.  "But this here's about the dangerousest
place as I was ever in as I knows on.  Been dowsed a good many times in
my life, but not like this here.  Got yourselves very wet, gentlemen?"

"Oh, no, only splashed," said Oliver.  "Here, you two had better get
back to the brig."

Smith looked at his messmate.

"Feared, mate?" he said.

"Eh?" replied Wriggs, rubbing his ear well.  "I dunno 'bout feared now.
I'm werry wet."

"Then go back and change your things," said Oliver.

Wriggs scratched his head now and hesitated.

"Beg pardon, sir, I couldn't help letting go, 'cause I thought we was
all going to be sucked down that hole, and yer couldn't tell whether yer
was coming up again; and though I'm a tidy swimmer, I never tried hot
water; but if so be as you don't mind, me and my mate'd rayther go on
along with you."

"But you're so wet, my lad."

"Well, sir, that'll only be a job for the sun to dry us, and it's been a
good wash for us and our duds too."

"Oh, if you don't mind," said Oliver; "I don't think it will hurt you.
What do you say, Wriggs?"

"I didn't say nothing, sir; I was only squeezing the hot water out o' my
trowges."

"But do you mind being wet?"

"No, sir.  I was born aboard a canal boat, and often tumbled in and had
to be fished out by my father with the spitcher.  I rayther like it."

"That's right, Billy.  You don't want to go back, do you?"

"No, matey, I want to continue on my travels, and see this here cur'us
land; only if we air to have another adventer I should like it to be a
dry 'un, if it's all the same to the gents."

"Then come along," said Oliver, "you'll soon get dry."

"Oh, yes, sir," said Smith; "but if it's all the same to you, sir, I
should like to know how that there thing works."

"Ah! that's more than I can tell you," replied Oliver, looking at the
basin, which was once more clear blue, and as smooth as if it had never
been disturbed.  "It's a geyser, of course."

"Yes, sir," said Smith, as Oliver looked at him as if expecting he would
speak; "I thought it was some'at o' that sort."

"And such things are not uncommon in volcanic countries."

"Arn't they though, sir?" said Smith, with a puzzled expression.  "But
it warn't byling hot."

"Oh, no, not within some seventy degrees."

"Then how come it to byle over, sir?  Ain't that rather cur'us?"

"Yes, very curious indeed."

"Yes, sir, and this seems to be a rather cur'us place."

"Yes, Smith, and very grand and wonderful.  We have been extremely
fortunate to get ashore in such a naturalist's paradise."

"Paradise, sir?" said Smith, with rather a curious look.  "Well, sir, I
shouldn't have called it that."

"Look here," cried Oliver to his two companions, "shall we wait and see
if the geyser plays again?"

"Oh, no," said Drew, "I want to get forward.  We shall have plenty more
opportunities, and this forest ahead looks grand."

"Yes, come along," cried Panton, rising from chipping a piece of rock.
"Look here, this is evidently volcanic and full of iron.  The mountain
must be tremendous.  Do you think it is always shut in by those clouds?"

"No," said Drew; "depend upon it they are caused by the late eruption.
That tremendous roar was the end, and I fancy it was caused by the water
rushing in from the sea.  This is only the steam rising.  Here, Lane,
you have fallen into the right place and can fill the British Museum if
you are industrious."

They were now coming to the end of the barren tract made by the
earthquake wave sweeping the rock in places bare, in others covering the
surface with _debris_ of coral sand, rolled pebble and shell from the
sea; but before reaching the band of verdure which stood at the top of a
slope, they had to pass two or three depressions in which mud and water
still lay, and upon reaching one of these they found to their surprise
that it was _far_ more extensive than they had anticipated.  For there
before them stretched acres upon acres of a muddy lagoon, dotted with
islands, and evidently alive with fish swept in from the sea.

"Hi! look-ye there, Billy Wriggs!" cried Smith, excitedly.  "See that?"

"Course I can, matey; it's water."

"Well, I know that, stoopid, but look what's in it.  Over yonder on that
bank--there close alongside o' that lump o' white rock."

"What of it?" said Wriggs.  "Only a trunk of an old tree."

"Ay, four-legged 'un, with a head and tail, having a nap in the
sunshine.  Why, it's one o' them eft things as we used to ketch with a
worm in the ponds when we was boys."

"Get out!  You go and play tricks with some 'un else, matey," said
Wriggs, contemptuously.  "Think I don't know no better than that?"

"You are a clever one, Billy, and no mistake," growled Smith.  "I never
did see a chap more ready not to believe the truth.  If you hadn't been
born a Christian, mate, nobody wouldn't never have converted you, and
you'd ha' been a regular heathen savage all your days."

"Go it, matey!  Much more on it?  Let's have it all while you're about
it."

"You shall, Billy, because a good talking to'll do you good, and knock
some o' the wanity out of you.  You see, you don't know everything."

"And you do, eh, Tommy?"

"Nay, not quite," said Smith, giving his head a roll; "but I do know as
that's one o' the same sort o' things as I used to see lying in the mud
as I was once going up to Calcutta.  That's a halligator, matey, on'y
some folks calls the big uns crockydiles, and the niggers out there
muggers, 'cause they've got such ugly mugs."

"What! do you mean to tell me as that log o' wood with the rough bark on
it's alive?"

"Yes, all alive O!"

"Get out," cried Wriggs, scrutinising the brute searchingly as it lay
about fifty yards away.  "That there's a trunk of a tree with all the
branches rubbed off.  Well, I never did!"

For at that moment the reptile crawled a little further from the water,
raised its head, and looked to right and left, and then subsided again
in the hot sunshine, sinking partially into the mud.

"Rummy sort o' tree that, eh, Billy?" said Smith.

"Sort o' tree!" cried Wriggs, in a tone of thorough disgust.  "Why, I
call it a himposition.  What does a thing mean by going on like that?  I
could ha' sweered as it warn't alive."

"Hold your row, the gents is a-going to shoot."

They stood watching, for Drew had been busy changing one of the
cartridges in his gun for another containing a ball.

"It's of no use to shoot it," said Oliver, "and I don't think you could
hit it in a vital place."

"I'm going to try," said Drew quietly, as Panton followed his example.

"Yes," said the latter, "if we are to stay in this island or whatever it
is, we can't afford to share the place with a creature like that.  These
things are very dangerous."

"Hist!  Tommy," whispered Wriggs, excitedly, "he can hear what they
says, and he don't believe they can hit him and hurt him.  Did yer see
him smile?"

"Well, I call it a laugh, matey.  Yes, they've got a nice open sort o'
countenance, them crockydiles.  What a time it must take'm to clean
their teeth of a morning!"

"Ay, and to pick 'em after dinner.  Would one o' them tackle a man?"

"Yes, or a cow either.  They've got a way of--I say, just look at him."

Wriggs was all attention, and the three naturalists as well; for, after
opening its mouth and displaying its tremendous gape, the reptile slowly
turned round so as to face toward the water from which it had crawled,
and then subsided, lying so close and still in the sand and mud that it
more than ever resembled the trunk of some old tree.

The position now for a shot was not so satisfactory, as it in all
probability meant the disappearance of the reptile at its first plunge;
but all the same Drew raised his piece and gave his companions a sharp
look, Panton raising his double gun as well for the next shot.

But Oliver held up his hand.

"Don't shoot," he whispered.  "I want to watch the brute for a few
minutes.  Let's see."

He had a reason for speaking; naturalist-like, he never lost an
opportunity for observing the habits of the different creatures he came
across, and he had noticed a couple of crane-like birds coming stalking
along from the far side of the bank on their long stilt-shaped legs.
Like everything the wrecked party had encountered, the birds seemed to
know no fear of man, acting as if they had never seen such a being
before.  Hence they were coming straight over to the side opposite to
the little party.

Oliver's little double glass was out in a moment, focussed and fixed
upon the objects, while, with all a naturalist's love of the beautiful,
he feasted upon the bright eyes, drooping crests, and lovely grey and
white plumage of the two birds which showed in every way their wonderful
adaptability for the life they led.

"Look here," said Panton, "we want to shoot that loathsome reptile."

"And I want to look at the cranes.  If you fire you'll scare them."

"Shoot them, then," said Drew.

"No, no, don't, or you'll startle the crocodile.  I don't want to shoot
them," said Oliver; "I want to study their habits a bit, and they'll go
into the water here close to us."

Just then the second crane, which was stalking gravely behind its
companion, stopped short, and uttered a warning cry.  It was too late.
Simultaneously, the crocodile, which had been cunningly watching the
bird; made a scythe-like blow with its tail, and swept the foremost,
broken and helpless, into the lagoon.  Then, springing up as the second
bird took flight, the reptile was making a rush for the water, when
Drew's gun spoke out, and Panton's followed with such good effect, that
the crocodile's progress was checked, and it swung itself round to lie
with its tail in the water, thrashing about, and raising a muddy spray,
which spread for far enough, spattering upon the water like so much
dirty rain.

"Just sarves you right, my smiling beauty," cried Smith, excitedly.
"Strikes me you won't break no more birds' legs for some time to come.
Hit him again, sir."

Drew's second barrel was fired as he spoke, for the reptile was
gradually working round, as if to plunge into the water, but the bullet
it now received in the side of the head checked it, and a fourth from
Panton made it sink down almost motionless, save that it made a few
feeble snaps with its jaws.

"And I'm precious glad on it," said Billy Wriggs, who had taken the most
intense interest in the affair.  "Like me to walk in and fetch out that
there bird, sir?" he continued, pointing to where the crane floated upon
the surface of the lagoon.

"I should like the bird," said Oliver, "but I don't think it would be
safe for you to wade in, Wriggs.  Perhaps it will float ashore."

"I'm so wet, sir, a drop more water won't hurt me."

"I was not thinking about your getting wet," replied Oliver, who was
intently watching the bird, which was apparently quite dead, "but of the
risk of your encountering another crocodile."

"What, in there, sir--in the water?"

"Yes, I daresay there are several about."

"Oh," said Wriggs, softly, "I didn't think of that," and he stood
scratching his head, and wrinkled up his face, as he looked at the
prostrate reptile.

"Didn't yer know as they was amphibilious animals, Bill," said Smith, in
a low voice.

"What's amphibilious animals?" growled Wriggs.

"Things as gets their living in the waters, and sleeps outside."

"Oh, that's it, is it?" said the sailor, thoughtfully.  "And what would
one o' they chaps do, if he was to meet my legs?  He couldn't hit out
with his tail in the water."

"No lad, he'd hoperate with his head."

"Then I don't think, Tommy, as we'll come here when we wants a swim,
eh?"

"No lad.  Strikes me that--I say; look ye there!"

The appeal was needless, for every one was looking toward where the
light breeze and the spreading rings caused by the lashing of the
crocodile's tail had carried the dead crane, which Oliver was longing to
get as a specimen of bird life unknown, he believed, to science, for all
at once, there was a faint, rippling movement visible close to it, then
a violent agitation.  A long, lithe creature suddenly made a dart partly
out of the water, and quick as lightning, they saw its yellowish folds
wrapped round the bird, which was directly after borne down out of
sight.

"Sea-snake, I think," said Oliver, eagerly, in answer to his companions'
questioning looks.

"Hear that, Billy?" whispered Smith, giving his friend a nudge.

"Oh, yes, I hear," growled Wriggs; "says he thinks it's a snake, but it
warn't.  I see it, and it was a heel.  Didn't yer see how it tied itself
up in a knot round the long-legged bird?  I say, I mean to set a
night-line, and ketch that gentleman.  Heels is about the best fish to
eat as swims."

"But aren't you going to wade across and fetch the crocodile over,
Billy?"

"No, matey, I aren't.  'Cause why?  It's much safer ashore."



CHAPTER EIGHT.

INTO THE MIST.

The lagoon was skirted, and after rather a toilsome ascent among rocks
half smothered in creepers, the edge of the forest was reached, and a
halt called under the shade of a great fig-tree, among whose small, ripe
fruits a flock of brilliant little scarlet and green lories were
feeding; and here, seated about on the great, projecting roots, the
party partook of a delicious meal, feasting their eyes at the same time
upon the prospect around.  For, from the elevation at which they now
were, they were able to look right over the low land that had been swept
by the vast wave, to where there was another slight elevation clothed
with trees.

As far as they could see, the low ground was spread with scattered
blocks of coral and lava, while here and there, little bright patches
told of shells that had been ground and polished thin by the action of
the waves, and now showed their glistening, pearly material.

Another look to the left across blocks of white coral, and over pools
slowly evaporating in the hot sunshine, showed the course the ship had
taken from where the sea beat against the reef-girdled shore.  It was
all plain enough; that was the edge of the land, with a belt of calm,
blue water, and beyond that, as far as eye could reach to right and
left, a barrier reef of coral, upon which the great billows curved over,
flashing in the sun, and crested with their soft, white foam.

"It seems beyond belief," said Oliver at last.  "Who could imagine that
our vessel could be borne right inland here and set down upon an even
keel almost uninjured?"

"And without the smallest chance of ever sailing the sea again," said
Panton, quietly.

"I say, look here, you two, we're not going to settle down here like so
many Robinson Crusoes, are we!" cried Drew.

"Only just so long, I say, as it will take us to make complete
collections of the natural history of the place," said Oliver, "for I
begin to be in hopes that the land is quite new, and that no one has
ever set foot upon it before."

"Then you think it is an island?" said Drew, who was eating with one
hand, collecting specimens of plants with the other.

"If he doesn't, I do," cried Panton, taking out a little bright steel
hammer and beginning to chip at a block of stone held fast by one of the
roots of the big tree under whose branches they were seated.  "Look at
this--slag.  I say that we are on a volcanic island, formed by a
mountain rising out of the sea and pouring out its streams of lava, and
throwing up its blocks and stones and cinders."

"What about the coral, then?  The place is covered with scattered
blocks."

"Oh, those were carried in by the great wave," continued Panton.  "Once
an island like this is thrust up from the bottom of the sea, the coral
insects soon begin to be busy and build all round it.  Look at the reef
yonder."

"Then you think the volcano is in the middle of the island?" said Drew,
taking out his pocket lens to examine a tiny blossom.

"That doesn't follow," said Panton, oracularly, as he chipped off a
fragment of lava, which fresh fracture glistened brightly.  "The
mountain may be just at the edge of the island, possibly on a cape.  I
should say this one is, and cut off from sight by that wall of mist,
which seems to be rising from a gulf extending right across.  What are
you men muttering there about tools?"

"Beg pardon, sir," said Smith, "I only said to my mate as you gents
seemed to have tools for everything."

"There," cried Oliver, "time's getting on, and I want to reach that
mist, get through, and see what the place is like on the other side.
Ready?"

For answer the others sprang up, all being eager to see more of the
country upon which they had been so singularly cast, and for the next
hour they were fighting their way through the dense forest, every cut
and slash they made with their pocket-knives to rid themselves of
creeper and thorn, destroying growth which was of intense interest to
Drew, while Panton damaged his shins over blocks of stone he longed to
chip, while dislodging insects and scaring birds and quadrupeds, of
which Oliver got but a glance.

They were constantly stopping to mop their faces, for the heat was
tremendous, and their progress very slow, but still they got on, some
open patch caused by the falling of a great tree rotted away by age, or
strangled by some creeper, giving them light and a breath of the soft
sea air overhead.

Everything here was beautifully green and fresh, the eruption having
left it unharmed, till, at the end of another tedious hour's work over
gradually rising ground full of jagged rifts and tumbled together
stones, which told of a convulsion of nature far back in some distant
age, when, in place of towering forest trees all must have been
absolutely bare and level.  Smith, who was in front, cutting and
slashing with his jack-knife, uttered a shout.

"Land ho!" he cried, for they were evidently nearly through the sea of
verdure, the sky showing beneath the huge branches.

"At last!" cried Oliver, who was panting with the exertion, while his
companions' faces were torn and bleeding.  "We must get Mr Rimmer to
let the men cut a way through here."

"Now then!" shouted Wriggs from somewhere ahead just then.  "None o'
them tricks.  D'yer hear?"

"Come, come, my man," said Drew, sternly, "keep to your work.  This is
no time for playing."

"All right, sir, but please speak to Tommy Smith.  Man don't want big
nuts chucked at his head."

"Who's a-chucking nuts?" cried Smith, indignantly, and he began to force
his way back into sight of his companions.

"Why, you did, and hit me just now."

"Sweer I didn't!" cried Smith.  "Here, hullo!  Drop that, will you?  Who
was that?"

A great nut, half as big as a man's head, had struck the speaker on the
shoulder.

"Why, there's someone up in that tree throwing at us!" said Drew.

"Yes, I see him," cried Wriggs, "that big tree, just where it's getting
light.  Here, I see you: leave off will yer?"

"It's the natives, sir," said Smith, in a warning voice.  "Get your guns
ready, they'll be shooting pysoned arrows directly."

"I see him plain, now, sir.  He's only a little black chap.  Yes,
there's two on 'em.  Well, upon my word, if they aren't two monkeys!"

Another big nut came with a crash through the branches and, before
Oliver could check him, Drew raised his gun and sent a shower of shot
peppering through the leaves over the heads of the two occupants of the
great tree, with the result that two large apes went swinging from bough
to bough, chattering indignantly, and disappearing at once.

"You shouldn't have done that," cried Oliver.  "I wanted to have a look
at the creatures."

"I daresay you'll have plenty more chances, for, if this proves to be an
island, they can't get away."

"But the fact of there being large creatures here, proves that it is not
an island," said Oliver.

"Not a bit of it," said Panton, oracularly.  "There are plenty of
islands peopled with animals, because they were occupants of continents
now submerged.  Look at Trinidad, for instance.  That was once the
north-east corner of North America, and all her flora and fauna are
continental."

"Oh, I say, don't be so horribly scientific," cried Oliver, "let's get
out into the open where we can breathe.  Look at the butterflies in that
sunshiny patch.  Really we have dropped into a land of wonders."

"And stinging insects and thorns," said Panton.  "I say, what was that
rustling away through the leaves?"

"Snake, sir, big 'un.  I see his tail wiggle," cried Smith.

"Better be careful," said Oliver, gravely, "there may be poisonous
snakes about the edge of the forest.  Ha!  What a relief!"

For he had suddenly stepped out through a dense curtain of a creeping
plant into the bright sunshine, to find that for some distance in front
the earth was clothed with a low, bush-like growth; then there was a
broad, blackish grey stretch of land, and again beyond that the veil of
vapour rising right across their way to right and left.

The little party stood out for a few minutes looking round, with the
portion of the island or peninsula they had left cut off now by the
forest which rose right behind them like a huge green ridge of verdure.
Then, full of excitement, they began to advance through the low bushes
toward the long line of white vapour slowly curling like a bank of
clouds, for the one desire now among all was to stand face to face with
the mountain which had partially burned up the face of the beautiful
tropic land.

It soon became evident that they were traversing a stretch of newly
springing up trees, for everything was of a young and tender green, but
after a time there was a parched, dried-up aspect; then they came upon
withered patches, and by degrees the vivid green gave place to a dull
parched-up drab and grey, every leaf and blade of grass being burned up
or scorched by heat and some destructive gas.

They hurried across this desolate band, for the wall of mist was but a
short distance in advance, and a curious feeling of eagerness attacked
the party, even to the two sailors.  For beyond that curtain was
evidently the centre of the mysterious volcanic force which had been
answerable for their presence there, and doubtless upon passing through
the vapour behind which it was hid, they would be able to grasp their
fate; whether a certain amount of journeying would bring them to the
habitations of men, or show them that they were shut up in some unknown
isle.

"Come along," said Drew, "and let's know the worst."

"The worst!" cried Oliver.  "You mean the best?"

"Well, we might be worse off," said Panton, laughing; "but be careful,
all of you.  This steam, or whatever it is, may be rising from some
great gulf, and mists are rather confusing.  Shall I lead?"

"By all means," said the others, and he stepped out for a few yards, and
then, to the surprise of Oliver, who was next, it was as if they had
entered the mist unconsciously, though it was thin to a degree, and the
only effect was to make Panton look magnified, so that twenty yards
farther on he had grown as it were into a giant.

Oliver looked back and saw that those who followed had the same aspect.

"Don't see any rift or chasm," said Panton; "but come cautiously, for
the ground feels soft and spongy."

His voice sounded distant and strange to Oliver, who said loudly,--

"Is it bog, or are we getting on volcanic soil?  I say, take care, the
ground's quite hot here."  For he was conscious now of a peculiar
reeking as of steam, but his voice sounded as if it had been thrown back
in his face, and, growing slightly uneasy, he turned round and called to
those behind him,--"Take care how you come."

He stopped short, for there was no one in sight, and, turning sharply,
the dim, giant-like figure which had represented Panton was invisible.

"Hi!  Panton, where are you?" he cried, in doubt now whether he had
turned completely round, and in his excitement he made a fresh step or
two, then, feeling that he might have gone wrong, he tried to return,
but only to become confused as he was conscious of the heat growing
stifling, of a strange ringing in his ears, and either of a peculiar
dimness of vision or the sudden thickening of the mist.

Then, with his heart beating heavily, he tried to raise his voice as he
shouted with all his might,--

"Panton!--Drew!  Where are you?"

There was a low hissing sound apparently rising from somewhere by his
feet, otherwise all was silent as the grave.



CHAPTER NINE.

BEYOND THE CURTAIN.

Oliver Lane's sensations were for the moment horrible.  He knew now that
the steamy vapour into which they had penetrated must be full of gas
perilous to human life--that the emanations from the volcanic soil were
asphyxiating, and he completely lost his head, and tottered feebly here
and there.

But in a few moments this passed off, for he made a desperate effort to
command himself, knowing full well that if he did not act his case was
hopeless.  His only chance was, he knew, to rush out through the mist
into pure air.  But which way?  He had lost all idea of the direction by
which he had come; he dare not stoop down, and try to trace his
foot-prints, because of the vapour being certainly more dense and
dangerous closer to the surface, and all that was feasible was to make a
rush, chancing whether it was forward into greater danger, to right or
left, hoping only that his instinct would lead him back by the way he
came.

Strong now in his intention, he drew a hot stifling breath, set his
teeth and ran for a few yards; then staggered a few more, growing blind,
and feeling that his senses were fast leaving him.  Then his brain
throbbed, a peculiar trembling weakness came over him, and, almost
unconsciously, he tottered along a few steps more, reeled, and fell
heavily upon the ground.

His senses did not quite leave him, for he knew that he was trying to
crawl through what seemed to him to be something like soft liquid opal,
with its wonderfully bright tints before his eyes, bluish, golden,
creamy, fiery, and pale, then there was a darkening around them as if he
were crawling into shadow; and again, directly after, as it appeared, he
could see a bright glow, toward which he involuntarily struggled, for it
was an instinctive effort now to preserve his life.  And as he crawled
onward, the glow grew brighter, he could breathe more freely, and the
light gradually assumed the hue of bright sunshine, where he fell
passive beneath the dense foliage of a huge tree.

Everything was very dreamy now for a time.  His head throbbed and felt
confused, and a sickly, deathly sensation made his brain reel.  By
degrees this passed away, and he lay gazing at the strange opalescent
something through which he felt that he had passed, and by degrees he
realised that he was watching the great curtain of mist made glorious by
the sunshine, and easily understood now why, in his strange
semi-insensibility, this had seemed to be a liquid through which he had
crawled while breathing the strange mephitic air.

"Then I did go in the right direction," was his next thought, as he
still lay feeble and languid, and as if regaining his senses after
taking some powerful opiate.

He felt a kind of satisfaction at this, and luxuriously drew in great
draughts of soft warm air.  For it was a delight to breathe freely, and
lie there without making any exertion.  The trees were so green and
bright, and the flowers of such delicious tints, especially those he
could see climbing up and up, and spreading their wealth of blossoms in
one spot, till that was one lovely sheet of colour.

"It doesn't matter."

These words pretty well expressed Oliver Lane's thoughts for some time
before he attempted to move.  The past, save and except the dim memory
of his having been in some trouble in a mist and losing his way, had no
existence for him, and the young man lay there in a state of the most
intense egotism, utterly prostrate, but supremely content.

Then all at once there was a change.

He felt a sensation of discomfort, and his hand began to stray about
him, and he found that his double-barrelled gun, slung by a strap across
his shoulders, was beneath his back, and the lock was pressing against
his ribs.

He changed his position so as to lay the gun beside him, and the
movement shot an acute pain through his head.

It did more; it sent a pang of mental agony through his brain; and he
scrambled up to his knees, to bend down, pressing his hands to the sides
of his head as if to keep it from splitting apart as he recalled all
now, and stared wildly about him in search of his companions.

The sensation of selfish enjoyment had all passed away, and he was in
full possession of his faculties.

He had found his way back, then, out of the mist, but where were they?

No; he was wrong; he had not found his way back as he fancied at first,
for where they entered the land around was burned up and bare; here
everything was glorious with tropic growth; there were lovely
butterflies, inches across the wing, and metallic in tint; brightly
plumaged birds, too, were darting past his eyes.  He must have passed
right through the mist to the farther side and reached the place they
sought.

He involuntarily turned, and there, about a couple of miles away
apparently, and rising far up in the clear blue sky, with a huge
ball-like cloud suspended above the conical top, was the great volcano,
bare, stern, and repellent, without a scrap of verdure to relieve the
eye.  It stood up tremendous in height, and in his rapid glance Oliver
Lane could see how all round had been blackened, or charred into a
greyish ash-colour, save in two places, where broad blackish bands
reached from a chasm near the top of the crater, right down the sides,
till they were hidden by the tall trees still standing, and apparently
spreading from the gentle eminence upon which he knelt for about a mile.

Where, then, were his friends, he asked himself, and recovering his feet
now, he had to seize the nearest bough and hold on, for a sudden
giddiness assailed him, and he nearly fell.  But this passed off in a
few moments, and he stood looking round to see if they too had passed
through.

But as far as he could see, he was alone in an open jungly spot, teeming
with all that was bright and beautiful in nature, and shut off from his
companions by the curtain of mist they had set out to pierce.

He hailed and hailed again as loudly as he could, and a faint cry
answered him, but a few repetitions made him aware of the fact that it
was only his own voice, echoed back from the mountain-side, and a
strange sense of loneliness and despair attacked him now.

For as he recalled his own adventure, it was evident to him that he had
had a very narrow escape from suffocation, the mist being evidently a
volcanic exhalation, rising from the earth in a long low portion
extending for miles in a curve, perhaps being the extent to which the
mountain had reached in some far-off time; in fact, there might have
been an old crater here only a little raised above the sea.

But he shook off the despondency, and fought back the idea that his
companions might have been overcome by the escaping gases, and forced
himself to believe that if they were not somewhere on his side hidden
from him by the trees, they had safely made their way back to the side
from which they had started.

He knew he had no grounds for all this, as they must necessarily have
been as much confused and overcome as he, but he came to the conclusion
which he wished to be true, and after mounting to the highest bit of
ground in his immediate neighbourhood, he hailed again and again,
listening patiently in the intervals for some reply.

There was a musical piping whistle twice, and once he was aware of a
curious grunting sound from some trees away to his right, and this was
repeated on his hailing again.  Then all was silent once more, and he
stood, now looking round, now watching the line of mist from which he
hoped to see his companions emerge.

There were moments when he felt convinced that they had reached the same
side as he, and he set to work hurrying here and there as fast as the
tangled growth of the pathless forest would allow, hailing from time to
time, but all in vain, and at last, dripping with perspiration, panting
and exhausted, he leaned against a tree.

He had something else to combat now besides weariness, a terrible
feeling of depression, for the thought would keep on coming with
constant recurrence that his friends had perished in the mist.

He mastered this thought as the feeling of exhaustion passed away, and
was ready to laugh at the sense of dread caused by his loneliness.  For,
as he told himself, it was probably all imagination respecting his
friends, and there was nothing to mind.  He was only separated from the
vessel by a comparatively short distance, and sooner or later an effort
would be made to reach him.  It might not be possible to pass through
the foul gases, but surely the long line of mist could be circumvented;
and he climbed to the highest point he could then find to try and see
its ends.

There was nothing to fear, for he had his gun, plenty of ammunition, and
a little provision left.  The place was wonderfully beautiful, and
offered a tempting number of objects to a naturalist, as soon as he
could make himself sufficiently calm to begin to investigate.

And it was in the above spirit, feeling quite certain that sooner or
later he would see a party coming in search of him, he began to examine,
turning his attention first towards the huge volcano, which rose up grim
and forbidding away to the north, with the globular cloud poised over
its highest part, which seemed as if cut right across in a slope.

Once he could turn his thoughts from the idea of peril, he began to be
interested and eager; for he was in the position so dear to a lover of
nature, there in a land surrounded by bird and insect forms for the most
part entirely fresh to him.

But there were other things to think of first.  Principally, there was
that important discovery to make whether they were surrounded by the
sea, and to try and find this out he sought a higher point than any he
had yet mounted, and, taking out his little glass, followed the face of
the mist till it reached the glittering waters of the sea, and then
tried to trace the coastline towards the volcano.

This he was able to do with pretty good success, but as his glass was
directed to the lower and eastern slope of the mountain, he found that
he was as wise as ever, for the base of the mighty cone completely shut
off all view in that direction.

Turning to the mist again, he followed its edge to the west as far as he
could reach, but the inequalities in the surface baulked him here, and
he could not make out the sea in that direction.

He closed his little glass and turned to the mist curtain, that
mysterious dim line glistening with opalescent colours, and determined
as a last resource to walk quietly as close to it as he could, before
the gases began to affect him, then to draw back a few yards, take a few
deep inspirations, so as to fully inflate his lungs, and then rush
straight through; for he argued to himself, if he could pass through
once unprepared and taken by surprise, he could certainly reverse the
action.

In this spirit, and so as to get a little encouragement and inspiriting
for another task--in other words, so as to enjoy the feeling that a way
of retreat was open to him--he walked back toward the depression along
which the vapour rose, examining every step of the way, and noticing
that by degrees all growth ceased as he approached, and that the ground
gradually grew softer and then spongy to the tread, as if he were
walking over a bog.

The air remained very clear and good to breathe as he went on nearer and
nearer, seeing now that the fumes rose softly all along one jagged line
such as might have been formed by the earth opening right before him.
But there was no opening.  As far as he could penetrate the dim mist,
the earth looked perfectly level, but the vapour rose from it as it does
or appears to do from a swampy meadow on a fine autumn evening; and it
was evident to him that he might try and dash through without fear of
running headlong into some chasm.

Just then, as he stood gazing down at the bottom of the curtain, the
idea struck him that perhaps there had been a wide rift right across to
right and left; that it had been filled up by volcanic matter, and the
vapour was caused by this lava or hot liquid mud slowly cooling down.

Convinced that this must be so, he had full endorsement of the
correctness of his theory, for on lifting one foot to go on, he found
that the other was sinking slowly, and a little further investigation
showed him that a faint thread of vapour was rising from the spot where
his heel had been.

The meaning of this barren space, and the reason for the earth feeling
spongy, was plain enough now, and he knew that he was walking over so
much half-fluid volcanic pitch, whose surface was slightly hardened and
formed the elastic springy band.

If it gave way!

The thought was enough to make the stoutest shudder, and feeling now
that his safety lay in movement, he took a few more steps towards the
vapour, finding himself, before he was aware of the fact, and without
the slightest mistiness being visible, within its influence.

He started away in alarm, for he was suffering from a slight attack of
vertigo, which did not pass off for a minute or two, and he walked, or
rather staggered, back, with the tough elastic film over which he walked
now rising and falling with an undulatory motion beneath his feet.

"Only as a last resource," he muttered, as he breathed freely once more;
and he could not repress a shudder as he stepped once more on solid
ground, plainly enough marked by the abounding growth, and grasping
fully how horrible a quagmire of hot slime was hidden by the partially
hardened crust over which he had passed.

Turning his face now toward the mountain, he hesitated for a few
moments, and then determined, as the distance seemed so short, to try
and do something now he was there; and in the intent of climbing a few
hundred feet up its side so as to get a view beyond, he marked out what
seemed to be the most open way, and started for the foot of the great
slope.



CHAPTER TEN.

A NIGHT IN THE FOREST.

It required no little steady determination to attack that ascent.
Oliver's nerves had been terribly shaken by that which he had gone
through.  The heat was intense beneath the trees, where hardly a breath
of air reached him, and it was impossible to keep off the sense of
loneliness and awe brought on by the knowledge that he was in the home
of Nature's most terrible forces, and that the huge mountain in front,
now looking so calm and majestic, might at any moment begin to belch
forth showers of white-hot stones and glowing scoria, as it poured
rivers of liquid lava down its sides.  At any moment too he knew that he
might step into some bottomless rift, or be overcome by gases, without
calculating such minor chances as losing his way in the pathless
wilderness through which he was struggling, or coming in contact with
some dangerous beast.

But he set his teeth and toiled on, dragging thorny creepers aside,
climbing over half-rotten tree-trunks, whose mouldering bark gave way,
and set at liberty myriads of virulent ants.  Once or twice he grasped
leaves which were worse than the home-growing nettle.  But he struggled
on, though, with the feeling growing stronger, that if he got through
the patch of forest before dark, it would be as much as he could manage,
for the difficulties increased at every step.

Suddenly he stopped short, and caught at the nearest tree-trunk to save
himself from falling, for the giddiness returned, and he stood panting,
trying to master the horrible sensation by drawing a deeper breath.
Then he clung more tightly to the tree, and knew what this sense of
vertigo meant; for it was no vapour that had overcome him, but the
sensation of the earth heaving beneath his feet, with a strange
quivering, as if some vast force were passing, and a dull muttering, as
of subterranean thunder, made the tree quiver in his grasp.

A few seconds later, as he waited for a repetition of the earth-tremor,
knowing now full well that he had for the first time experienced a
couple of earthquake shocks, there came from away in front a deep heavy
boom, following a strange rushing sound, evidently from the summit of
the volcano--the huge safety-valve from which the pent-up forces of the
earth escaped to the open air.

Oliver struggled forward a few yards into a clearer spot, where he could
just catch a glimpse of the crater of the mountain, and, as he had
expected, there was the great globe-like cloud riven into rags of
vapour, while dark-looking bodies were falling in various directions
about the summit.

As he gazed, the rain of falling fragments ceased, and the torn-up
flecks of cloud seemed to be drawn slowly together again by the currents
of air on high, first one and then another coalescing, as the tiny
globules of spilt mercury glide one into another, till all are taken up.
And it was so here, the mysterious attraction blended the flying
vapours into one great whole, which floated above the mouth of the
burning mountain.

"And I might have been somewhere on the slope, when that burst of stones
was falling," thought Oliver.  "Still, I might climb up a hundred times,
and no eruption occur.  I'm getting cowardly, instead of being
accustomed to the place."

He smiled to himself as he marked the top of the mountain, and aimed as
straight as he could for its side, before plunging again into the
bewildering maze of trees, whose wide-spreading foliage made all beneath
a subdued shade.

But a dozen steps had not been taken before he stopped short, with his
heart beating, and listened eagerly, for a distant shout had fallen upon
his ear, coming as he felt sure from behind him, and to the right.

Then there was utter silence for a few seconds, before a second shout
arose, to be heard plainly enough, but away to his left.

His heart sank again, and the hope died out.  That was no cry uttered by
one of his companions, but came from a savage, or some wild beast, which
he could not say, but he suspected that it must be from one of the apes
of which they had seen specimens that morning.

There it was again, rather a human cry, such as a boy might give vent to
in a wood, when calling to his fellows, and a few moments afterwards the
sound was repeated.

Whatever animals they were who called, they were answering each other,
and certainly coming nearer.

The remembrance of the strange-looking face he had seen peering through
the leaves directly after the great nut had struck Wriggs, came back to
Oliver as he resumed his arduous journey, now finding the way easier
where the bigger trees grew, now more toilsome where there was an
opening caused by the fall of some forest monarch, which had rent a
passage for the sunshine, with the consequence that a dense mass of
lower growth had sprung up.

In these openings, in spite of heat and weariness, the young naturalist
forgot all his troubles for a few brief moments in his wonder and
delight, till the knowledge that he must push on roused him once more to
action.  For there before him were in all their beauty the various
objects which he had come thousands of miles to seek.  Beetles with wing
cases as of burnished metal crawled over leaves and clung to stems;
grotesque locust-like creatures sprang through the air, through which
darted birds which in their full vigour and perfect plumage looked a
hundred times more beautiful than the dried specimens to which he was
accustomed in museums and private collections.  Here from a dry twig
darted a kingfisher of dazzling blue, not upon a fish, but upon a
beetle, which it bore off in triumph.  Away overhead, with a roar like a
distant train, sped a couple of rhinoceros hornbills, to be succeeded by
a flash of noisy, harsh-shrieking paroquets, all gorgeous in green,
yellow, crimson and blue, ready to look wonderingly at the intruder upon
their domain, and then begin busily climbing and swinging among the
twigs of a bough, whose hidden fruit they hunted out from among the
leaves.

One tree close at hand was draped with a creeper of convolvulus-like
growth, hanging its trumpet-shaped flowers in every direction, ready for
a number of glittering gem-like birds to hover before them, and probe
the nectaries for honey or tiny insects, with their long curved bills.
So rapid in their movements were some of these, that their insect-like
buzzing flight was almost invisible to the watcher, till they hovered
before a blossom in the full sunshine, when their burnished, metallic
plumage, shot with purple, crimson, and gold, flashed in the sun's rays,
and literally dazzled the eye.

Oliver was in the home of the sun-birds, the brilliant little creatures
which answer in the old world to the humming-birds of the new, with
their crests and gorgets of vivid scales.

"It's grand, it's wonderful," he muttered, with a sigh.  "But I must get
on."

He forced his way through these openings, with the birds so tame that he
could easily have knocked them down with a stick, or caught them with a
butterfly-net.  But leaving his collecting for a future time, he pressed
on, satisfied with the knowledge that he was in the midst of nature's
wonders, for the farther he progressed the more was he impressed with
the conviction that he and his companions had happened upon a place
which exceeded the most vivid paintings of his imagination, so rich did
it reveal itself in all they desired.

The progress he made was slower and slower, for he was nearly at the end
of his forces, and the matted-together tangle seemed in his weakness to
grow more dense.  Where there was opening enough overhead he could see
that the sun was sinking rapidly, and he knew that it would be dark
almost directly it had disappeared.

"It is hopeless," he said to himself; "I shall never get out to-night;"
and with the idea forced upon him that he must be on the look-out for a
resting-place, or an opening where he could light a fire, and, if
possible, at the foot of some tree, in whose branches he could make
himself a shelter, he still toiled on.

This proved to be a less difficult task, for before long, as he crept
beneath the tangle of a climbing cane-like palm, he saw that it was more
light ahead, and in a few minutes he reached one of the natural
clearings, close to a huge short-trunked, many-branched fig.  There was
dead wood in plenty, shelter, and fruit of two kinds close at hand,
while, greatest treasure of all, a tiny thread of water trickled among
some ancient, mossy fragments of volcanic rock, filling a little
basin-like pool with ample for his needs.  To this he at once bowed his
head and drank with avidity, sublimely unconscious of the fact that a
tiny, slight, necklace-like snake was gliding over the moistened rock
just overhead, and that a pair of bright gem eyes were watching his
every motion from the great fig-tree, where its branches rose in a
cluster from the trunk.

"Hah!" sighed Oliver, as he rose from his long deep drink.  "What a
paradise, but how awfully lonely!"

He noted then that the top of the mountain was in view, but apparently
no nearer; and setting to work he soon collected enough wood for a fire,
and lit it as a protection, before gathering some of the little figs and
some golden yellow fruits from a kind of passion-flower, both proving
agreeable to the palate.  These supplemented by the food he had in a
satchel, formed a respectable meal, which he ended as the last light
died out; while before him as he sat by his fire there was a great
glowing ball of light high up, one which resolved itself into the cloud,
evidently lit up by the glowing lava within the crater.

"A nice companion for a traveller," said Oliver, half aloud.  "Now,
then, for my cool lofty bedroom in the tree-fork.  I wonder whether I
shall sleep?"

His inner consciousness said immediately "No;" for as he made his way in
among the buttress-like roots of the tree to try and climb up, there
came from within a few feet of his face a deep-toned snarling roar.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

A FIGHT WITH FATE.

"Aren't had a drop, sir.  Swear I aren't," cried Smith.

"Silence man, silence," said Panton, as he sat upon the burnt-up earth,
holding his head with both hands, while Wriggs staggered about close at
hand, laughing idiotically.

"But I can't, sir," cried Smith, in a whimpering tone.  "If I'd been
ashore somewhere and met mates, and we'd been standing treat to one
another, I wouldn't keer, but I'm sober as a hundred judges, that I am."

"Will you be silent, man?  I want to think," said Panton, as he rocked
himself to and fro.

"Yes, sir, d'reckly, sir, but don't you go thinking that of a man.  I
know I can't stand straight, for all the bones has gone out of my legs,
and soon as I move I go wobble-wobble like cold glue."

"Yes, yes, I know, I'm unsteady, too," said Panton impatiently.

"But is it fits, sir?  And do they take you like that?"

"No, no, my man, I suppose it's the gas."

"Gas, sir," cried Smith, looking round stupidly.  "What's it been
escaping again?  Gammon, sir: they aren't got no gas out here.  I say,
Billy Wriggs, don't make a hexibition of yourself.  Keep quiet, will
yer?"

"I can't, mate.  It's a rum 'un, it is.  What have the guvnors been
givin' of us to drink?"

"I d'know, Billy.  But do stand still."

"I can't, mate, my legs will keep going and gettin' tangle up like one
along o' the other, and knocking themselves together."

"Then lie down afore I hits yer."

"You won't hit me, Tommy," said the man, with a silly laugh.

"Tell yer I shall.  You aggravate me so, doing that there."

"Will you two men leave off talking?" cried Panton, angrily.  "I can't
think.  Your words buzz in my brains like a swarm of bees.  Ah, I have
it now.  Where is Mr Lane?"

"Mr Lane, sir?" said Smith, feebly, as he looked round, and then with
his eyes staring and blank, he began to feel in his pockets.

"Yes, yes, man.  Where is he?"

"I d'know sir.  I aren't seen him.  Where's Mr Lane, Billy?  You got
him?"

Wriggs chuckled as if he had been asked the most ridiculously comic
question he had ever heard.

"I d'know, matey," he said.  "It's o' no use to ask me."

Smith lurched at him with his fists clenched, as if about to strike, but
the intention was stronger than the power, and resulted in the sailor
blundering up against his mate, and both going down together, and then
sitting up and staring at each other in a puzzled way as if they found
it impossible to comprehend their position.

At that moment Drew came staggering toward them out of the mist with his
gun over his shoulder and his head down as he gazed at the ground,
looking as if at any moment he would fall.

"Ah!" cried Panton, excitedly.  "I had quite forgotten you, Drew."

"Eh?" said the botanist, stopping short.  "Someone call?"

"Yes; I--Panton.  Come here."

"He's got it, too, Billy," said Smith.  "I say, what's the matter with
all on us?  Was it that water we drunk?"

"No, I aren't drunk!" cried Wriggs, suddenly dropping his good-tempered
idiotic manner.  "If you says I'm drunk, Tommy Smith, I shall hit yer.
Smell that!"

He placed a big tarry fist close under his messmate's nose, and then, as
if amused thereat, he began to laugh again.

"I never said such a word, Billy," said Smith, taking the big fist,
opening it out again, and clapping his hand into it loudly before
pumping it affectionately up and down.  "I said it was the wa--_tlat
tlat tlat_--Oh, I say, matey, I am thirsty."

"Eh?" said Drew, dreamingly, in answer to a question.  "Where's Lane?
Yes, where's Lane?"

"Ah!" cried Panton, starting up now, and looking wildly round.  "Yes, I
understand, I think.  It was the gas--the volcanic gas in that mist.
For heaven's sake rouse yourself, Drew.  Lane's in there still, and we
must fetch him out.  Here, all of you come and help."

He made for the pale, misty curtain before them, but only tottered a few
steps, and then fell heavily upon his face with a groan.

"He's deal worse than us is," said Smith, who was now beginning to think
more clearly.  "Billy, old man, it was that water we drank, and the
natives have been pysoning it to kill the fishes, and killed us
instead."

"Eh!  What!"

"Native savages been trying to pyson the fishes, and pysoned us instead,
matey.  I said it afore, Billy Wriggs--I says it again, and I'll go on
saying on it for a week if that'll do you any good."

"I'm all right, matey.  I'm all right, Tommy.  But what do the native
savages want to pyson the fishes for?  Never did the savages any harm."

"Billy Wriggs, you'd better get a noo head, mate, and send this one to
be cleaned."

"Ay!  You're right, mate, for this here one won't go at all.  Feels as
if some'un had been sifting sea-sand into the works.  But what had the
fishes done?"

"Nothing.  Pyson 'em to float atop, and ketch 'em to eat.  Now come and
help sooperior officers as have tumbled down all of a heap."

As he spoke, Smith rose from the ground to which he had fallen, and
reeled toward Panton and Drew, slowly, and as if he could only see them
dimly at a distance, while Wriggs followed his example, and came on in a
zigzag, idiotic way.

Suddenly Smith stood up erect, and uttered a hoarse cry, as he stared
wildly at his companions.

"Here!" he yelled.  "Help!  I know now.  Mr Lane.  He went in there
with us, and he aren't been out.  Come on!"

His strength and honest manly feeling had come back with the flash of
light which had illumined his brain, and rushing straight for the mist,
they saw him begin to grow bigger as if looked at through a magnifying
glass, increasing in size till he was monstrous, indistinct and blurred,
and then completely disappear.

The man's cry and subsequent action roused them, and all staggered after
him with their power of thinking clearly returning, and with it a
feeling of horror as they grasped the fact that two of their party were
now lost in the strange belt of vapour, whose fumes had so strangely
overcome them.

"We must help them," cried Panton wildly.  "Come on: follow me."

He started for the mist before them, but before he could reach it, Smith
staggered and reeled out, striking against him, and then catching his
breath as if he had been held under water, or as a man rises to the
surface after being nearly drowned.

"Stop!" he panted, with his eyes seeming to start out of his head.  "You
can't go.  A man can't breathe in there.  I'll try again, d'reckly,
gentlemen, but--but! oh, the poor, brave, handsome lad!  I--I--"

The big, strong, rough fellow's voice became indistinct, and the sobs
rose to his throat, nearly choking him in the weakness he vainly strove
to hide.

"Come, come," said Panton hoarsely, as he supported the man, Drew trying
hard the while to shake off the effects of the vapour and be of some
service.

"He liked him, gents," growled Wriggs, an the strange intoxication
seemed now to have passed off.

"Yes," cried Smith, hysterically.  "Course I did, gentlemen, and I'm
going in again to try and fetch the poor lad out.  But," he continued
feebly, "you can't breathe in there, and it takes hold on yer somehow
and sucks the strength out of yer.  It's like when poor Joe Noble went
down in the hold among the foul air, and it killed him right off at
wunst."

"There, hold up," said Panton, firmly now.  "I'll go this time."

"Yes, sir, and we'll go together and take hold of hands," cried Smith.

"Ay, all on us," growled Wriggs, "and take hold o' hands and fetch him
out afore we've done."

Drew said nothing, but as Wriggs caught hold of Smith's hand, he seized
Panton's, and, moved as if by one mind, they stepped quickly forward,
feeling at the end of a dozen paces that there was a difference in the
air they breathed, which grew thicker as their sight became less clear
and their motions more heavy.

But hand clenched hand with more convulsive violence, and in step they
kept on till first one and then another reeled and staggered, and it was
only by turning suddenly round and stumbling back over their track that
they were able to reach the free fresh air before, to a man, they
staggered and fell to the ground.

Panton was the first to speak.

"I'd try again," he groaned, "but I have not the strength."

"Ay, and I'd go, sir, but it's as I said!" cried Smith piteously.
"Think he can be alive yet?"

"Heaven only knows," sighed Panton, as he tried to sit up, but sank back
again, while Drew turned his face toward them and gazed at his
companions with a strangely vacant expression that in its helplessness
was pitiful to see.

"Tommy!" gasped Wriggs suddenly, as he lay flat on his face, "hit me,
will yer, matey--hit me hard.  That there feeling's come all over me
again, and I don't know what I'm a doing, or what I'm a saying.  It's
just as if I'd been struck silly and my legs had run away."

"Try--try again, Smith," groaned Panton.  "Give me your hand.  I think I
am stronger now."

"Not you, sir," replied the sailor.  "Here, hi!  Billy Wriggs, whatcher
doing on?"

For the man had slowly raised himself upon his feet again, and was
tottering toward the mist.

"I'm a-going, matey, to fetch that there young natooralist out o' yonder
if I dies for it: that's what I'm a-going to do."

He spoke in a low muttering growl, and the man's looks and actions as he
reeled and groped his way along were those of one stupefied by some
strong narcotic.

"But yer can't do it, lad," cried Smith, rising to his knees.  "Come
back."

"I'm a-going to fetch out that there young natooralist," muttered
Wriggs, as he staggered on.

"But I tell yer yer can't," shouted Smith.

"Quick, let's try again," said Panton, struggling to his feet once more,
and now with Smith also erect and grasping his hand, they two came on in
Wriggs' track, just as Drew rolled over quite insensible.

They did not advance a dozen paces, for Wriggs, who had tottered on
strong in his determination to do that which his nature forbade, gave a
sudden lurch and fell heavily, head in advance, and the others knew that
he must be within the influence of the mephitic vapour.

It was hard work to think this, for, as Smith afterwards said, it was
like using your brain through so much solid wood; but in a blind
helpless fashion they tottered on, and, bending down, each caught one of
the man's ankles, and dragged him back by their weight more than by any
mechanical action of their own, each movement being a kind of fall
forward and the natural recovery.  The result was that step by step
Wriggs was dragged from where the vapour was inhaled till Drew was
reached, and they sank upon the bare burnt earth again, bewildered, and
lacking the power to think, as if the mists had gathered thickly in
their brains, and they could do nothing else but lie and wait for the
return of strength.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE HELP THAT CAME.

Hours passed, during which the little party lay utterly exhausted and
overcome, sunk in a deep sleep, which partook more of the nature of a
swoon.  They were only a few yards away from the mist, and in such a
position that, had a breeze arisen to waft it toward them, the
probabilities were that they would never have awakened more.

It was Panton who first slowly opened his eyes to look round and gaze
wonderingly at his companions, then at the golden mist, whose deeper
folds were orange and warm soft red.

For it was evening, and as he turned toward the sinking sun it was some
minutes before it occurred to him that it would be tropic night almost
directly after, and that his companions should be roused.  At the same
moment came the recollection of why they were there, but without the
strange confusion from which he had before suffered, the long sleep
having carried it off.

The others started into wakefulness at a touch, and stood staring at him
helplessly.

"Are you ready to try again?" he said in a low voice full of emotion.

"Yes," came spoken simultaneously.

"Then come on, we must find him now."

He took a step or two forward, and the others followed, but a moment
later Smith seized him by the arm.

"No, sir," he cried.  "It won't do, and I should be no man if I let you
go."

"Loose my arm!" cried Panton, angrily.  "Recollect, sir, who you are!"

"I do, sir," said the man stoutly; "but you're not my officer, only a
passenger; and if our poor old captain was alive, or if Mr Rimmer was
here, he'd say I was quite right."

"What do you mean, sir?" cried Panton, whom the exposure to the mephitic
gases had left irritable and strange.

"I mean, sir, as it's my dooty to stop you from going to sartain death,
and you may say what you like, and call me what you like, but me and my
mate, Billy Wriggs, is going to stop you, so there."

"Such insolence!" cried Panton angrily.

"All right, sir.  You're going to do as I do, aren't you, Billy?"

"Course I am, Tommy.  And you give in, sir.  He's got a horful long head
has Tommy Smith, and what he says is right; we aren't going to let you
go."

"Cowards!" cried Panton angrily.

"That's right, sir, you just go on like that a bit, and call us names.
It'll ease your mind ever so.  We don't mind, do we, Billy?"

"Not us," growled Wriggs.  "He's right, sir.  Give it to us."

"Brutes!" cried Panton, as the darkness began to approach with wonderful
speed.  "Here, Drew, we must go together.  We cannot desert our comrade
at a time like this."

"No," said Drew, "it would be the act of cowards if we could do
anything; but the men are right.  You cannot go."

"What?  You side with them?  Cowards!  Yes, worse.  How could we ever
face his friends unless we had striven to the last?"

"We have striven to the last, man.  Look!  In a few minutes it will be
black night, and to attempt to plunge into that horrible vapour would be
madness, weakened and overwrought as we are."

"I thought so," cried Panton.  "The poor fellow has but one who will
make a fight for him."

"Stop!" cried Drew, clinging to his arm.

"Let go!"

"I say you shall not."

"Let go, or take the consequences," cried Panton furiously, and he
raised his gun as if to strike at his companion with the butt.

"Here, Smith, Wriggs, help me, he is half mad.  He must not, he shall
not go alone!"

"Then come with me, cowards!" cried Panton.

"No, sir, we aren't a coming to see you die," said Smith quickly, as he
seized the hand which held the gun.  "Now, Billy, ketch hold behind."

The struggle began, but it was a vain one.  No one present was gifted
with much strength; but it was three to one, and as the darkness fell
the four shadowy forms looked dim and strange, writhing here and there,
Panton striving hard to free himself from the restraining hands as he
made a brave fight, but gradually growing weaker till, all at once,
Wriggs, who had retained his position behind during the struggle,
suddenly clasped his hands round the poor fellow's waist, and lifted him
right from the ground.

"That's got him," he growled.  "Now, Tommy, you get hold on his legs,
and we'll lie him down."

"Right!" cried Smith, and in this ignoble way Panton would the next
minute have been thrown down, had not a shout suddenly come out of the
gloom behind them.

The effect was magical.

Smith let go of Panton's legs, and Wriggs unclasped his hands to place
them to his mouth and give forth a tremendous yell.

"Ahoy!  Ship ahoy!" he cried.

"Ahoy!" came from very near at hand, followed by a couple more distant
calls, and another so faint as hardly to be heard.

"Ahoy!  Here away!" shouted Smith, and the next minute there were
footsteps, and a familiar voice said,--"Where are you?"

"Here!" cried Drew eagerly.

"Thank goodness!" cried Mr Rimmer.  "Found you at last.  I was afraid
something had happened to you, gentlemen.  Ahoy!"

His shout, intended to rally his followers, was echoed four times, and
as soon as he had replied he turned to the breathless party.

"Hallo, gentlemen, been running?" he cried.  "I didn't like to leave you
longer for fear anything might have gone wrong, so I came on with half a
dozen men.  How plaguey dark.  Hallo!  Where's Mr Lane?"

There was an ominous silence and Mr Rimmer repeated his question.

"Don't say anything has happened to the lad," he cried.

Then Drew spoke and told him all.

"What, and you stand there like that without making another try!" said
Mr Rimmer fiercely.

"There!  You hear?" cried Panton.  "I'll go with you, Mr Rimmer.  The
poor fellow must be saved."

"By acts, Mr Panton, not by talking," said the mate, sternly.  "This
way, my lads," he cried, as first one and then another of the _Planet's_
crew hurried to his side.  "Here's fresh work for you, I've found some
of the party, but young Mr Oliver Lane's missing.  Volunteers to find
him?"

"All on us, sir," came eagerly.

"That's right," said the mate.  "Now, then, which way did he go in?"

"Mr Rimmer, you don't know the danger!" cried Drew.

"No, sir, nor don't want to till after the job.  Now, then, point out
the nearest spot as far as you can recollect."

"I think I can guide you," said Panton.

"Hold hard, please, sir, just a moment," cried Smith.  "You don't know
what it is, sir, as you're going to do."

"Silence, sir! who spoke to you?" snapped the mate.  "Wait till your
advice is asked."

"Tommy Smith's quite right, sir," growled Wriggs.

"Silence, sir."

"Right, sir, but I stands by my mate," growled Wriggs.

"Now, then, Mr Panton, I am waiting.  Quick!"

"I cannot let you go into that terrible danger without making another
protest," cried Drew.  "Mr Rimmer, we have done everything that man
could do in the way of trying to save the poor lad's life."

"Possibly, Mr Drew, but I have not done all I mean to do.  Now, then,
Mr Panton, forward."

The gentleman addressed stepped forward at once, and with the mate and
the six men who had accompanied him close behind entered the curtain of
mist, invisible now save as increasing the darkness and shutting out the
sparkling stars.

"No, no, don't you go, Smith," cried Drew just then, as the sailor made
a movement to follow the others.

"But he'll think I'm scared, sir, if I don't go," cried Smith.

"Ay, I am coming, too, Tommy."

"No; it is utter madness," cried Drew.  "Stand here both of you, ready
to help them when they come out."

"Mean it, sir?" cried Smith.

"Yes, of course, man."

"Hear that, Billy.  Well, the mate didn't tell us to come arter him, and
they're safe to come back."

"Ay, they air--if they can," said Wriggs gruffly.

"Ah, if they can, mate.  That's a true word," cried Smith, "Hi!  Look
out.  They've had enough of it a'ready."

For at that moment one of the sailors ran staggering back through the
darkness and fell heavily.

"Help, someone, help!" came in the mate's voice, and by a tremendous
effort he too staggered out, half bearing, half supporting Panton, and
both falling heavily before they could be supported.

"Hi!  All of you this way!" roared Smith, but his words were evidently
not heard.  However, they were unnecessary, for first two together and
then three, the party of sailors tottered out overcome by the fumes,
only one of them being sufficiently master of himself to sit down and
hold his head; the others fell prone on the dry burnt ground.

"They'll believe us now," said Smith with a dry laugh.

"Man, man, don't talk.  Try and help them," cried Drew.  "Hah, look
here."

"Can't, sir! too dark."

"Feel those men whether they have water-bottles with them; Mr Rimmer
here has."

"Right, sir.  Here's one."

"Give them water, then," cried Drew, setting the example and pouring
some of the cool fluid between the lips of first Panton, and then of the
mate.  But it was some minutes before it had the slightest effect, and
there was a time when it seemed as if a fresh calamity was to be added
to their other trouble.

But first one and then another began to mutter incoherently before
sinking into a heavy sleep, the mate, who was the most vigorous man
present, having the hardest fight of all, and when he did cease babbling
as he lay there in the darkness there was a coldness of hand and
weakness of pulse that was startling.

Then came a weary time of waiting in the darkness beneath the glittering
stars till all at once Smith suggested that he should light a fire.

"We don't want it to warm ourselves, sir," he said, "but it'll make the
place more cheery like and keep off the wild beasties if there are any
about."

"Where are you going to get your wood from, matey?" growled Wriggs.

"Ah, I never thought o' that, mate.  There aren't none about here,
that's certain."

"And you don't want none," cried Wriggs, for suddenly the mist was lit
up by a bright glare of light and above it the globular-looking cloud
became illuminated as if from some burst of light below.  "That's good
enough to see by, aren't it?"

Drew rose to his feet to stand gazing wildly at the bright illumination
which showed plainly enough the overcome men lying in uneasy attitudes
as they had fallen.

The two sailors sprang to their feet, for there was a quivering motion
of the earth, whose surface heaved as does a cloth held at the corners
and shaken.  The next moment there was a tearing, splitting sound
running apparently toward them, and by the reflected light, there,
plainly enough, a rift could be seen opening slowly, more and more
widely, and evidently going straight for where Panton lay.

"Earthquake!" shouted Drew.  "Quick! help!!"  But the two men stood
shivering and helpless as if unable to stir, and the fate now of the
young geologist and the mate seemed to be sealed.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

BILLY WRIGGS' BACCY-BOX.

It was dull, heavy, slow-going Billy Wriggs who saved their lives.  One
moment he stood scratching his head, the next he had made a rush like a
bull, thrown himself down on his side, and somehow managing to get a
good grip of the mate's waistband, had swung him over towards Smith.

"Run him farder away," cried Wriggs, and he shuffled himself then to
Panton just as the rift opened widely.

There was a quick rustling sound, and a dull thud as Panton was gripped
hard--flesh as well as clothes, and swung over the sailor into
comparative safety.

But it was at the man's own expense, for he began to glide downward in a
slow, gradual way, first his legs, then his body, till only his chest
was visible as he dug his fingers into the ground and tried to hold on.

At such a time it might have been expected that the man would shriek out
in agony and despair, slowly subsiding as he was into a rift which
promised a death so horrible, that those who looked on were paralysed
for the moment beyond affording help; but Billy Wriggs' words did not
indicate suffering or terror, only a good-hearted friendly remembrance
of his messmate, for he shouted out as if by way of farewell,--

"Tommy, old mate, I leave yer my brass baccy-box."

The words galvanised Smith into action.  He had seized and dragged
Panton away in time, but as he saw his companion sinking into the crack
which grew slowly longer and wider, he stood with his eyes staring and
jaw dropped till the words "baccy-box" reached his ears.  Then he made a
rush to where Wriggs' head and shoulders only remained above ground,
stooped quickly, and seized him by his thin garment, and held on,
checking further descent and gazing wildly at his messmate, whose rugged
features upturned to the red glow of light appeared to be singularly
calm and placid.

"Steady, mate," he said mildly.  "Don't tear my shirt."

"Won't I!" cried Smith, savagely.  "Where's that theer box?"

"Breeches' pocket, mate."

"That's you all over," snarled Smith, as his hands got a better grip,
first one and then the other, and his voice sounded like an angry growl
between his set teeth.  "Promise--a chap--a box--and then--going to take
it with yer.  Yer would, would yer?  But yer just won't."

"Let me take my skin, then," cried Wriggs.  "Don't tear it all off," as
he winced beneath the savage grip which checked his descent.

"Nay I weant, mate," growled Smith.  "I wants it, too, and hold tight,
Billy, the deck's giving way.  Heave ho!"

Smith threw himself backward as he made a tremendous heave, and none too
soon, for a great patch of the earth at the side gave way where he
stood.  But he had thrown all a strong man's force into one mighty
effort, and as Drew stood trembling and helpless, he saw the two men
clasped in each other's arms, rolling over and over into safety, just as
a horrible fume rose from the rift which now ran on in a zigzag split,
like a flash of lightning in shape, and as rapid.  Then followed a sharp
report as of subterranean thunder and the earth closed again.

"Would yer bite--would yer bite!" grumbled Wriggs, as he stared at the
earth.

"Well, of all the onsartain dangerous places as ever I was in," said
Smith, in a low growl, "this here's about the worst."

"Ay, 'tis mate," said Wriggs.  "Sea's safest arter all.  I say, though,"
he continued as he softly rubbed himself about the ribs, "might ha' took
hold of a fellow a bit easier, Tommy.  You've made me feel all loose."

"Sarve yer right, chucking yerself down like that.  Why, if it hadn't
been for me, you'd ha' been nipped fast there.  Now, then, where's that
there 'bacco-box?  Hand over."

"Nay, I said I'd leave it to yer, mate.  I was making o' my will.  Going
to use it a bit longer, mate, but I'll give yer a quid."

"What an escape, my lads," panted Drew, who now came up and shook hands
with them both warmly.

"Well, it weer pretty close, sir," said Wriggs, as he went on gently
rubbing his sides.  "But I'm beginning to think as Tommy Smith had
better ha' left me alone.  His fingers is as hard as a brass statoo's.
But there, mate, I forgives yer.  How's the gents, sir?"

Drew shook his head, and after the mate and Panton had been carried some
little distance from where the earth had split open and re-closed, the
party seated themselves in a despondent state to watch the golden cloud
which hung high in air, like a huge ball of liquid fire, and lit up the
place while they waited for morn.

Panton and Mr Rimmer both seemed to be sleeping heavily, and one of the
sailors remained similarly affected, but their state did not appear now
to be so alarming after the past experience, and Drew contented himself
with satisfying himself from time to time that they were breathing
comfortably, while he waited and thought sadly about their young
companion.

"If I could only feel satisfied that we had done everything possible to
save him," he said to himself, for his conscience reproached him for
idling there when he might have perhaps schemed some way of dragging him
out from the mist.

Just about the time when his spirits were at the lowest ebb he became
conscious of the fact that the two sailors, Smith and Wriggs, were
engaged in an argument with one of the rescue party, and he listened to
what was said.

"Look-ye here," growled Smith, "what's the good o' you talking that way?
You see how it was; yer couldn't hardly breathe, and what yer could
breathe warn't fresh hair, but a rum sort o' stuff as comes out o' the
earth and knocks yer over 'fore you knows where you are.  I never felt
nowt like it, did you, Billy?"

"No; and never wants to smell it again.  Yer didn't feel it, yer smelt
it, lads, and then you was nowheres.  Say, Tommy."

"What is it?"

"Wonder what it's like down below, inside like.  You hauled me out 'fore
I'd half a chance to find out."

"Why didn't yer say yer wanted to see?  Then I'd ha' let yer go."

"Nay, you wouldn't, Tommy," said Wriggs, with a chuckle.  "Be too warm,
wouldn't it?"

"But what I was saying, mates, was as I don't think we tried hard enough
to find Mr Lane.  We ought to have done something."

"Ay; but how are you going to do it?" said Wriggs, shortly, just as the
man's words had gone like a pang through Drew's breast, making him feel
that even the men were judging him adversely.  "That's the worst o' you
clever ones: you says, says you, `We ought to do some'at,' but you don't
say what."

"That's a true word, Billy Wriggs," cried Smith, clapping his messmate
on the shoulder, "they don't say what.  Why, 'fore you chaps come, Mr
Panton and Mr Drew--"

"And Tommy Smith," growled Wriggs.

"Well, I did try a bit, mate, and so did you, till we couldn't do no
more.  I don't believe a hangel could ha' done more than Billy did."

"Oh, I say, mate," grumbled Wriggs, modestly.

"I says it again, `could ha' done more than Billy did.'  But it's like
this here, mates, the onpossible's just a bit too hard for a man to do,
and whether he likes it or whether he don't, he's got to put up with it,
and that's what clever people calls flossify."

"And quite rightly, my man," said Drew, coming close up.  "Smith and
Wriggs behaved like brave, true men, my lads."

"Easy, sir, please.  We only tried same as you did."

"You think, then, that we tried everything that was possible to save my
friend?"

"Think, sir?  Why, Billy and me's sure on it, eh, Billy?"

"Sartain."

"Hah!" ejaculated Drew, "you have done me good, my lads, for my heart
felt very sore and my conscience reproached me cruelly for not doing
more."

"It's all right, sir," cried Smith, cheerily.  "You wait till the
morning comes, and then we shall see a way o' sarcumventing this gas, as
you calls it, and I daresay we shall find Mr Lane somewhere all right
on t'other side."

"If I could only feel that, I could rest till morning," said Drew.

"Then just you feel it, sir," said Smith.  "It's what I feels strong."

"So do I, sir, now," put in Wriggs.  "If Tommy Smith mays so, it's all
right."

Drew tried to think that it was, but the pleasant, hopeful sensation
would not come, and he sat now with the men, now beside the mate and his
friend Panton, waiting for the morning, the first hints of its approach
being in the gradual paling of the golden light from the cloud over the
volcano, and the appearance of the softer, more natural glow, that came
in the east, bringing with it a more diffused light, and the hope that
rides in with the dazzling rays of a new day.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

CHEAP LODGINGS AND CATS.

Oliver Lane's double gun gave forth two sharp clicks as his thumb
pressed back the cocks, and then, raising it to his shoulder, he waited,
with his eyes searching among the thick leaves of the fig-tree, and
trying to penetrate the orchids which clustered where the trunk forked
and sent forth a dozen or so of minor boughs.

But the snarling sound had ceased, and there was not the slightest
rustle among the leaves to indicate the spot where the animal was
hidden.  But in imagination he could see some big, lithe, cat-like
creature crouching there in the tree-fork, ready to spring, its head
looking flattened with the ears drawn down, teeth gleaming in a fierce
snarl, eyes flashing with green phosphorescent-like light, and sharp
claws alternately protruded and withdrawn.

All this was pictured by his active brain, but there was nothing visible
save a gleam here and there, where the light from a fire-fly shone
faintly from some leaf.

A minute passed, all eager watchfulness, and at the slightest rustle
indicating action on the part of the animal Lane would have drawn
trigger.  But all remained still, and the young man asked himself what
he had better do.

There were other trees about, but not one which offered such a
satisfactory lodging, so easy to reach.

"One oughtn't to mind a cat on the premises," he laughingly said to
himself at last.  "It would keep away nuisances, but this is too much of
a cat, and wants to have all the bed to itself."

He hesitated about firing into the tree to scare the beast, partly from
the idea that it might irritate it into springing and taking him at a
disadvantage, for as he stood there the light was behind him, so that he
must be plain to his invisible enemy; then, in the smoke, he would be
unable to make out his foe, and there would be no chance or time to take
aim with the second barrel, and he knew what the result would be--the
brute seizing him with teeth and claws, holding on fast while it tore
him with its hind legs, as a cat does a rat.

"A miserable end at the beginning of one's life," thought Lane.
"Discretion's the better part of valour," he muttered.  "I'll go back
and find another tree."

He stood for a few minutes longer, in the utter silence, listening for
some movement from his enemy, but there was none.  Then he began to hope
that it had stolen away, and he moved slightly--drawing back to go in
search of fresh lodgings.  But at the first step there was a savage
growl, such as might have been uttered by a magnified cat, and his
fingers moved to press the trigger, as he stood firm, with the butt of
the piece pressed to his shoulder, and his cheek against the stock.

The snarling ceased and all was dead silence again, while, oddly enough,
the old story of the Irish soldier came to Lane's mind:

"Please, sor, I've caught a Tartar prisoner."

"Bring him along, then."

"Please, sor, he won't come."

"Then come without him."

"Please, sor, he won't let me."

For, in spite of his excitement and its accompanying alarm, Lane could
not help smiling at his predicament.  He knew that if he beat a retreat
the beast would spring at him, and taking into consideration the fact
that he would be better off if he took the offensive and advanced, he at
once acted upon the latter course.

Taking a step forward, there was another savage snarl, and he aimed, as
nearly as he could guess, at the spot whence it came, and waited, but
the animal did not spring.

He moved forward again and there was another snarl--a pause--a slight
movement--another snarl and a scratching noise, which meant the tearing
at the bark of the trunk upon which the animal crouched.

"I must fire," thought Lane, and bending forward again, the snarling was
resumed and he drew trigger.

Almost simultaneously with the shot there was a fierce yell, and the
young man received a tremendous blow in the chest, which knocked him
backwards right amongst the thick growth; then came a loud rustling, the
sound of the animal dashing through the tangle of undergrowth, and then
all was still.

"Killed, or escaped wounded?" muttered: Lane, as he gathered himself up,
and stood with his gun ready to deliver the contents of the second
barrel.  But at the end of ten minutes or so there was no sound to break
the silence, save a peculiar rending, tearing noise at a distance,
followed by a rumbling boom, as of thunder under ground, and a sensation
as of the earth quivering beneath his feet.

This passed away, and feeling safe for the moment, Lane opened the
breech of his piece, threw away the empty cartridge, and replaced it
with one containing heavy shot before stepping up to the tree, and
climbing up the trunk easily enough by the help of the cable-like
parasite which enlaced its great buttresses.

He had not far to mount, for the main trunk ended about twelve feet from
the ground, and after a little feeling about amongst the dense orchid
growth, he soon found a position where he could sit astride, and support
his back in a comfortable half-reclining posture, perfectly safe from
all risk of falling, so that there was every prospect of a good night's
rest.

"I hope they will not fidget about me very much," he said to himself, as
he thought of his companions.  Then, utterly tired out, and with his
perceptions somewhat blunted by fatigue, he gave his friends the credit
of thinking that he would be able to take care of himself, and leaned
back.

"Jolly," he muttered.  "Cheap, comfortable lodgings if it don't rain,
and the leopard, or whatever it was, does not come back to turn out this
trespasser.  Hah! how restful and nice.  Can't fall: but I'm not going
to cuddle this gun all night."

He began to feel about for a place where he could lay the gun down
safely, and at the end of a minute his hand touched something warm and
furry, which began to stir about and utter a whining, mewing noise.

He snatched away his hand in dread, then extended it again to begin
feeling his discovery.

"Pups!" he exclaimed.  "Kittens I mean!  Two of them; fine fat ones,
too.  They're harmless enough if their mother does not come back," and
going on patting and feeling the little animals, he fully realised now
the reason for their mother's ferocity, though he felt that it might
have been their father.

"No," he said, half aloud, "it must have been the mother, for she would
make her nursery somewhere in hiding, for fear that papa should want to
play Saturn, and eat his children up."

The cubs whined softly a little, and nestled their soft heads against
his hand.  Then they sank down in the nest-like hollow of a decayed limb
of the tree and went to sleep, while Oliver Lane found a tough vine-like
stem behind which he was able to tuck his piece safely.  And a few
moments after, regardless of volcanoes, earthquakes, tidal waves, foul
gases, and ferocious beasts, the young naturalist went off fast asleep,
and did not stir till he heard, mingled with his dreams, the shrill
shrieking of a flock of paroquets, which were climbing about among the
smaller branches of the tree high overhead, and feasting upon the fast
ripening figs.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

PLUTONIC ACTION.

It took Oliver Lane some time to pass from a sound sleep gradually
through half-waking dreams to the full knowledge of his position, and
then, albeit somewhat cramped and stiff, feeling rested and bright, he
lay back listening to the calls and answers of the birds, and watching
them with a true naturalist's intense delight.  For there he was in the
very position he had longed to reach, right amongst nature's gems in
their own abode, full of life and vigour.  He had seen these birds
before, but as attractively-plumaged dry specimens.  Here they were
hanging, crawling, and climbing about, busy, with every feather in
motion, their eyes bright, and beaks and claws all abloom with colour.
Now their feathers were tightly pressed to their softly-curved bodies,
now standing almost on end, giving the birds a round, plump aspect that
was delightful when the sun gleamed through, and flashed from the golden
green, bright scarlet, or vivid blue, with which they had been painted
by nature's loving hand.  Others were entirely of a beautiful green, all
save their heads, which glowed with a peach bloom, while, again, others
bore the same leafy uniform, and, for decoration, a dark collar, and
long, pencil-like-produced feathers in their tails.

There was the gun close at hand.  Lane had but to take it from beneath
the creeper which held it fast; but, at this time, it never occurred to
him that he might secure two or three splendid specimens for the
collection he sought to make, so occupied was he by the action of the
flock in the tree.

It was all delightful to him to watch the soft, easy, deliberate way in
which the paroquets climbed with beak and claw, hooking on with the
former, and then raising one foot with its soft, clasping, yoke-toes to
take a firm hold before bringing up the other; then, holding on by both,
and swinging gently to and fro, the beak was set at liberty, and the
bird hung head downwards, to feast upon some luscious fig.

"If they only had a sweet note, instead of their harsh scream," thought
Lane, "what lovely creatures they would be."

He sat there watching them for about an hour, but far from satiated, for
there was always something fresh to see, and the birds were so tame,
that he often had them within a few feet of his head, some soft,
round-headed creature turning itself on one side to gaze at him with its
keen eye as if in wonder, before going on with its feeding, satisfied
that it would not be hurt.

Then the delightful scene came to an end with the climbing birds and the
foliage lit up by the horizontal rays of the sun, for, all at once,
there was a deafening explosion, and, shrieking loudly, the flock took
flight, while Lane sat there appalled, listening in expectation of
another report, the former having evidently come from the mountain; but,
as he listened, there was in place of the explosion, a loud hissing, and
then a loud, heavy pattering, accompanied and followed by thud after
thud, and he knew, though he could not see for the dense foliage, that a
volley of heavy stones and masses of pumice had been fired into the air,
to fall from various heights back to earth on the mountain slopes.

"Ah, I must go and see that," he said to himself, as he seized his gun.
"Not my department, but none the less interesting.  I wish Panton was
here."

A soft, whining noise took his attention then, and, glancing beside him,
he saw that the cubs which had been his companions all night were
straining about, climbing over each other, and falling back, evidently
wanting their morning meal.

"And I suppose I have killed their mother," thought Lane, as he bent
over and patted the two furry animals.  "Poor little things!  I must
come back and get them, and take them with me to the ship, if I can
cross the belt of mist.  First of all, though, the mountain--I must go
up that as far as I can climb."

So, descending and shouldering his piece, he strode to where the ashes
of his fire lay and then brought his gun down to the present, for there
was a quick, rustling sound to his left, and he caught a glimpse of
glossy, spotted fur, as an animal passed amongst the dense undergrowth.
Then, before he had time to fire, had he felt so disposed, a huge,
lithe, cat-like creature bounded on to the trunk of the tree he had just
left, uttering a strange, purring cry, and disappeared in the orchids
which clustered about the fork.

"Then I did not shoot the mother," thought Lane.  "So much the better."

Then, as all was still and no danger to be apprehended there, he
shouldered his gun and strode off towards the more open ground, which he
reached at last, forgetful of everything but the intense desire to try
and ascend the cone-shaped mountain which stood before him, capped with
a dense pall of smoke and steam.

After tramping about an hour, the sight of trickling water down amongst
some stones suggested to him the fact that he had not broken his fast
that morning, so sitting down upon a block of stone, he brought out the
remains left in his wallet and ate them, stale as they were, as he
looked round him, finding that he had climbed to higher ground than he
expected; but though he looked eagerly toward the part where the ship
must have lain in the middle of the wave-swept plain, everything was cut
off by a dull, misty appearance.  Not the clearly marked band of sunny
haze he had seen from low down on the level therewith, but a foggy,
indistinct state of the atmosphere.

Away to his right, he feasted his eyes upon the enormous mass of stone
and ash which towered up in a beautifully regular curve, with apparently
nothing to hinder him from walking up the steep slope to the crater,
into which he felt an uncontrollable desire to gaze.

"I ought to get up to the top in two or three hours," he thought, as he
mentally mapped out his course, seeing nothing likely to hinder him but
rough blocks of stone dotted about in all directions.  Nothing in
themselves, but ominous of aspect when he took into consideration the
fact that they must have been hurled upward from the mountain, and
fallen back on the slope in all probability white-hot.

"One will have warning," he thought, "and there may be no more fall
to-day."

Finishing his last mouthful, he took out an india-rubber cup, and
stooping down, filled it from the trickling course, raised it to his
lips, and then spurted out a mouthful in disgust, for it was hot,
bitter, salt, and had a most objectionable odour.

"Ugh!" he ejaculated, "mustn't depend on you."  Then giving another
glance round, he shouldered his gun, and commenced the ascent, leaving
all vegetation behind him, and soon finding that his way lay over loose
scoria and finely-powdered pumice, into which his feet sank at every
step.

But as the difficulties and steepness of the ascent increased, so did
the desire to climb higher and see more of the volcano, and also more of
the country into which fate had brought him.  Once a few hundred feet
higher, he felt he would be able to set all doubts at rest as to whether
they were surrounded by the sea; and to get this proof Oliver Lane
pressed on.

After a time he got more into the knack of climbing without slipping
back so much, but the sun was getting higher, and its beams grew warm,
while he was conscious of a sensation as of heat striking upward from
the ashy substance of which the slope was composed, and at last, to
gratify his curiosity, and to clear away a doubt, Lane stooped down to
lay his hand flat upon the ash, and snatch it away again, for it was
quite hot.

For a moment or two after this, he hesitated, but there above him rose
the cone with its crest of smoke, and apparently nothing to hinder him
from climbing steadily to the top, and from thence getting a bird's-eye
view of the country round.

That was enough to start him on, and setting himself manfully to the
task, in less than half an hour he found that he had reached an
atmospheric band where the breeze blew pleasantly cool and invigorating.
The cloud over the summit of the cone had floated away, and all was
clear and bright as he resumed the ascent, feeling now that an hour
would bring him to the top, when all at once he fell upon his knees, and
then threw himself at full length.  For the mountain quivered beneath
his feet, and produced a giddy sensation as the surface rose and fell in
waves, whilst almost simultaneously there was a terrific roar, and he
saw a dense cloud driven out from above, and ascending to a tremendous
height, as if shot out by an internal explosion.

His first feeling was, that he must turn and rush down: his second, that
it would be madness to stir, for the side of the mountain was opening
and shutting in a network of fissures, and the next minute, the cloud
which he had seen blasted upwards proved itself not to be so much mist,
but a storm of ashes and scoria mingled with huge masses of rock, which
now curled over like a fountain, and were falling back in all
directions.

Oliver Lane tried to anchor himself to the shifting ashes as he lay
there, feeling that his last hour had come, for darkness was now added
to the other horrors, and the mountain-side was in strange quivering
motion, gaze wildly whichever way he would.

The fall of a mass of glowing cinders, so close that he could feel the
scorching heat against his cheek, roused Oliver Lane to the fact that it
was more dangerous to stay than to rush down-hill, running the gauntlet
of the falling shower; and, after a moment's hesitation, he turned and
ran for his life.  The white-hot stones and cinders fell around him as
he bounded down, having hard work to keep his footing, for at every leap
the loose scoria gave way as he alighted, and slipped with him in an
avalanche of dust and ashes from which he had to extricate himself.

Once he had pretty well dragged himself out when the ashes for far
enough round began to glide downward, the thick haze of volcanic dust
around adding to his confusion, while every step he took in his frantic
efforts to keep on the surface resulted in his sinking more deeply till
he was above his waist in the loose gliding stuff and awake to the fact
that it was scorchingly hot.

But all at once, as despair was beginning to enfold him in a tighter
hold than the ash and cinder, the gliding avalanche suddenly stopped,
and as it was not like the Alpine snow ready to adhere and be compressed
into ice, he was able to extricate himself and slide and roll down for
some distance further.

Then all at once he found that he was in the sunshine again, and that
the stones had ceased to fall and the mountain to quiver; while, as he
gazed upward, it was to see that the dark cloud was slowly floating
away, giving him a view of the edge of the crater where it was broken
down for some distance in the shape of a rugged V, and just at the
bottom, every now and then, there was a bright glow of fire visible.
The glow then sank completely out of sight, but only to rise up again,
and this was continued as the young naturalist watched, suggesting to
him the fact that the crater must be full of boiling lava which rose to
the edge in its ebullitions and then dropped below the rugged wall.

Ten minutes later the glowing stones which had fallen, looked black and
grey; the cloud was at a distance, and there was nothing to indicate
that the beautifully shaped mountain ever presented another aspect than
that of peace.

Oliver Lane stood looking up with the longing to ascend to the edge of
the crater growing strong once more, but he was fagged by his exertions,
bathed in perspiration, and aware of the fact that an intense glowing
heat rose from the surface all around him, while the air he breathed
seemed to produce a strange suffocating effect when he turned his face
from the wind which swept over the mountain slope.

In a few minutes he decided that it would be madness to persevere, and
that it would be wise to wait until the volcano was in a more quiescent
state, for at any minute there might come a fresh explosion from the
mouth from which he might not be able to escape so easily.

He looked longingly round to try and make out something of value to
report as to their position, but the mountain shut everything off in the
direction lying north, and he was reluctantly about to continue his
descent when he felt the stones beneath his feet tremble again.  Then
came a report like that of a huge cannon, and what seemed to be an
enormous rock shot upward for hundreds of feet, hung for a moment or two
in the clear air, and then fell back into the crater.

That was enough.  A burning thirst and a sensation of breathing
something which irritated his lungs, awakened him to the fact that he
must find water, and, regardless of the heat, he once more began to
hurry downward toward the level plain from which the mountain cur

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