others discussing the narrow escapes and sending a stone or two down,
and then a great dead dry stump of a tree-fern, all of which were shot
up again, the stones after an interval, the fern stump, which was as
long as Billy Widgeon and thicker round, coming up again directly.
"Why, major," said the captain at last, "if you had told me all this
some day after dinner back in England, I'm afraid I shouldn't have
believed you."
"I'm sure I should not have believed you," said the major laughing. "It
sounds like a sea-serpent story, and I don't think I shall ever venture
to tell it unless I can produce the man."
At that moment Billy came back out of the jungle, looking very
ill-tempered, and his first act as the fount played again, was to go
close to the edge of the basin and try the temperature of the water.
"Just tidy," he said, as they descended from the level shelf where the
geysers were clustered, and along by the little gurgling rocky stream
which carried off their overflowings before reaching the slope of the
mountain, and beginning to climb with fresh and unexpected wonders on
every hand.
It was nervous work, for as they climbed the earth trembled beneath
their feet; low, muttering, thunderous sounds could be heard, while here
and there from crevices puffs of sulphurous, throat-stinging vapour
escaped.
Then a bubbling hot spring was reached, not a geyser like those on the
shelf across the long valley, but a little gurgling fount of the most
beautifully pure water, but so heated that it was impossible to thrust a
hand therein.
"Are we going much higher, Mr Mark?" said Billy Widgeon at last.
"Feels to me as if we should go through before we knowed where we was."
"Going to the top, I suppose," said Mark, smiling at the man's face,
though he could not help feeling some slight trepidation as strange
volcanic suggestions of what was beneath them in the mountain kept
manifesting themselves at every step.
"Oh, all right!" said Billy in a tone of resignation; "but I do purtest,
if I am to die, agin being biled."
The climb up the mountain side was continued for some time, fresh
wonders being disclosed at every step. The jungle grew less thick, with
the result that flowers were more plentiful, and if not more abundant
the birds and gloriously-painted insects were easier to see. Hot
springs were plentiful, and formed basins surrounded by the deposit from
the water, a petrifaction of the most delicate tints, while the water
was of the most exquisite blue.
A little higher, and in a narrow ravine among the rocks a perfect chasm,
into which they descended till the sides almost shut out the light of
day, so closely did they approach above their heads, Mark, who was in
advance, made a find of a deposit of a delicate greenish yellow.
"Why, here's sulphur!" he exclaimed, picking up a beautifully
crystallised lump, while the rock above was incrusted with angular
pieces of extreme beauty.
"Yes, sulphur," said the captain; "and I don't think we'll go any
farther here. It may be risky."
"I'll just see how soon this cleft ends," said the major, approaching
what seemed to be the termination of the gorge--quite a jagged rift, cut
or split in the side of the mountain.
The major went on cautiously, for, as he proceeded, it grew darker, the
rift rapidly becoming a cavern.
"It runs right into the mountain!" he cried, and his voice echoed
strangely. "Here, Mark, my lad, if you want to see some specimens of
sulphur, there are some worth picking here."
There was something so weirdly attractive in the cavern that Mark
followed, and in setting his feet down cautiously on the rocky floor his
eyes soon became accustomed to the gloom, and he found that the rock
joined about a dozen feet above their head, and was glittering as if
composed of pale golden crystals of the most wonderful form.
Before him, at the distance of a dozen feet, he could dimly make out the
figure of the major, while behind stood the group formed by their
companions, looking like so many silhouettes in black against the pale
light sent down the chasm from above.
"Mind what you're doing," said the captain. "Don't go in too far."
"All right!" cried the major; "there's good bottom. It's a lovely
sulphur cave. Coming in?"
"No," said the captain, sitting down; "I'll wait for you. Make haste,
and then we'll go back another way."
"Can you see the sides, Mark?" said the major.
"Yes, sir. Lovely!" replied the lad. "I should like to take a
basketful. I'll break a piece or two off."
"Wait a bit," said the major; "there is a lovely piece here. What's
that?"
Mark listened, as he stood close to the major, where the cavern went
right in like a narrow triangle with curved sides.
A low hissing noise saluted their ears, apparently coming from a great
distance off.
"Snakes!" whispered Mark.
"Steam!" said the major. "Why, Mark, this passage must lead right into
the centre of the mountain. There, listen again! You can hear a dull
rumbling sound."
"Yes, I can hear it," said Mark in an awe-stricken whisper.
"I dare say if we went on we should see some strange sights."
"Without lights?" said the captain, who had approached them silently.
"Perhaps we should get subterranean fire to show us the interior of the
mountain. What do you say?--shall we explore a little further? One
does not get a chance like this every day."
"I'm willing to come another time with lights, but it would be madness
to go on in the dark. How do you know how soon you might step into some
terrible chasm?"
"Without the slightest chance of being shot out again, like Billy
Widgeon!" said the major. "You are quite right; it would be a terribly
risky proceeding."
They listened, and this time there came a low boom and a roar as if
there had been an explosion somewhere in the mountain, and the roar was
the reverberation of the noise as it ran through endless passages and
rocky ways echoing out to the light of day.
"No, it does not sound tempting," said the major. "I don't want to go
far. But I must get a specimen or two of this sulphur for the ladies to
see."
He walked on cautiously.
"Mind!" said the captain.
"Oh, yes, I'll take care," came back out of the darkness. "I can see my
way yet, and the sulphur is wonderful. These will do."
A tapping noise followed from about fifty feet away; then the fall of a
piece or two of stone, followed by a low hissing sound.
"Hear the steam escaping, Mark?" said the captain. "Ah, that's a good
bit, as far as I can see. Come, major."
There was no answer.
"O'Halloran!" cried the captain, and his voice went echoing away into
the distance, the name being partly repeated far in, as if whispered,
mockingly by some strange denizen of the cavern.
"Major O'Halloran!" shouted Mark excitedly. "What's that?"
"What, my lad?" cried the captain.
"That curious choking sour smell. Ah!"
"Back, boy, for your life!" cried the captain, snatching at his son's
arm and half dragging him towards where the cave was open to the sky.
"Are you all right?"
"Yes, yes, father," panted Mark, who was coughing violently. "Is--is--
Oh, father! the major."
The captain had taken a handkerchief from his pocket and loosely doubled
it, and this he tied over his mouth and nostrils.
"Hold my gun, Mark," he whispered; and then hoarsely, as if to himself,
"I can't leave him like that, come what may."
He paused for a moment to breathe hard and thoroughly inflate his lungs,
and then, regardless of the risk of falling, he ran rapidly in, while
Mark stood horror-stricken listening to his retiring footsteps.
His next act saved the lives of the two men.
"Small!--Widgeon!" he cried. "Here, quick!"
The two men ran to his side, ready to help.
"My father has gone in to help the major. As soon--as he comes--near
enough--go and help."
The men stood listening; and then, as they heard the coming steps, made
a dart in, but returned.
"You can't breathe. It chokes you," cried Billy Widgeon.
"Take a long mouthful, my lad, and hold your breath," growled the
boatswain. "Ha, he's down! Come on!"
CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.
HOW MARK AND BILLY WIDGEON WENT WRONG.
Mark did as the others did; inflated his lungs and rushed into the
darkness, till they nearly fell over the captain; and then how it was
done the lad hardly knew, but the two insensible men were dragged out to
where there was pure air to breathe, and the rescuers sank down beside
them, panting and exhausted. "Too late!" groaned Mark.
"Not we, my lad," growled Small. "I know. It's bad gas."
"It's the sulphur," cried Mark piteously.
"Well, aren't that bad gas? I know. They're just the same as if they
was drowned, and we've got to pump their chesties full of wind till they
begins to breathe as they ought to."
Small's ideas were doubtless quite correct, and fortunately but little
effort was needed to bring the sufferers to their senses, for the fresh
air soon recovered them, and they sat up looking wild and confused.
With the help of an arm to each they were soon able to walk back to the
open mountain side, and after a rest declared themselves ready to
proceed.
"I think we'll go back away north of the hot springs," the captain said.
"Certainly," exclaimed the major with quite a sound of contrition in his
voice.
"The jungle is dense, but I think with a little managing we can find our
way."
"Well, yes, perhaps so," said the major. "It's down hill, and half our
way will be fairly open."
"If it proves too dense we can but turn to the right and go back as we
came," said the captain. "There, Mark, you need not look so anxious.
There is nothing worse the matter than a bad headache. How are you,
major?"
"Horrible!" he said. "I have a bad headache, and a bad mental pain, for
being so absurdly obstinate and running all that risk for the sake of a
few crystals of sulphur."
"Which, after all, you had to leave behind."
"Not all," said the major; "I had put a couple of lumps in my pocket
when that overpowering vapour struck me down. My impression is--yes, of
course, I remember clearly now--that where I broke the crystals away I
must have opened a hole for the escape of the vapour."
"I heard the hissing noise," said Mark eagerly.
"Strong," said the major, "I know you will forgive me; but, believe me,
it will be a long time before I forgive myself. I can't say much to you
about thanks," he whispered in a hoarse voice; "but I shall never forget
this."
"Nonsense, man, nonsense!" cried the captain warmly. "You would have
done the same for me."
No more was said, for there was plenty to do to keep together, and the
various sights and sounds as they bore away to the east of the hot
springs set the whole party well upon the _qui vive_.
For on every side there were traces of volcanic action. Now they had to
climb over or round some mass of lava that looked comparatively new as
seen beside fragments that were moss-grown and fringed with orchids and
ferns. In one place on the steep descent all would be one tangled
growth of creepers, while a little farther on the ground would be
sharply inclined and as bare and burned as if fire had lately issued
from the earth. Every now and then they came, too, upon soft patches of
mud firm enough to walk over and like india-rubber beneath their feet;
but it was nervous work, and they crossed with care, feeling, as they
did, a curious vibration going on beneath their feet.
Then came an exceedingly rugged descent of quite a precipitous nature,
but lovely in the extreme, so clothed was it with tropic verdure, though
this was more beautiful to the eye than to the feet, for it often
concealed treacherous crevices between blocks of scoria, and ugly cracks
and rifts, some of which were dangerous, while others were awful from
their depth and the low, hissing, murmuring sounds which came from their
inmost recesses.
At last the descent became so precipitous that they were brought to a
stand-still and all progress seemed to be at an end, till, searching
about, Mark and Billy Widgeon came upon a broad gash in the mountain
side at the bottom of which there seemed to be a long slope of the
smooth, hard-surfaced mud apparently running downward toward the spot
they sought.
The captain declared the descent practicable with care, and Mark took
the lead, going down with plenty of agility, and closely followed by the
little sailor.
At the end of a quarter of an hour they were all on the stony brink of
what seemed to be a mud-stream which at some time had flowed down from
out of a huge yawning chasm high up above their heads, and perfectly
inaccessible from where they stood. According to all appearances, this
mud in a thin state must have come down in a perfect cataract till it
filled up the space beneath the chasm, which resembled a huge basin, as
level as so much water, and when this had become full the stream had
begun to form, and down this mud-stream they proposed to go, though how
far it extended and would help them on their way experience alone could
show.
They stood just at the edge of the pool to find that a walk upon its
surface would be dangerous in the extreme, for though the top was
elastic a stick was easily driven through, with the result that a jet of
steam rushed out with a noise like that of a railway whistle, but the
surface of the stream on being tested proved firmer, and they began to
descend.
Again the same sense of insecurity was felt, the india-rubber-like film
giving way easily and springing up again, while the old muttering and
murmuring noises thrilled beneath their feet.
But so long as it would hold it proved to be a capital road, for while
there was a wall of dense verdure on either side, not so much as a scrap
of moss had taken root on the surface of the smooth slope, which wound
in and out with the ravine, acting in fact as a stream of water does
which runs down some mountain scar, save that here there was no
progress. The mud had once been hot and fluid, and doubtless was still
so, to some extent, below; but, after filling up every inequality, it
kept to one regular level, forming what Mark at once dubbed Gutta-percha
Lane.
It was now long past mid-day, and as they walked steadily on, growing
more confident as the toughness of the bituminous mud, for such it
proved to be, proved itself worthy of the trust it was called upon to
bear, the question arose where the stream would end.
As far as the captain could make out, in spite of its zigzagging and
abrupt curves, the course of the stream was decidedly towards the camp,
but as they descended lower one thing was very plain, and that was that
they were getting into thicker jungle, which grew taller and darker with
every hundred feet of descent.
"How do you account for it?" Captain Strong said at last to the major,
as they now found themselves walking down a winding road some fifteen to
twenty feet wide, and with dense walls of verdure rising fully two
hundred feet in height.
"I think there must have been a stream here, and at some time there has
been an eruption and the mud has flowed down it and filled it up."
"If there had been a stream," the captain said, "we should have seen
some sign of its outlet near the camp."
"Then you have a theory of your own?"
"Yes," said the captain; "it seems to me that first of all this was
merely a jagged ravine, running from the mountain's shoulder right down
to the sea."
"That's what I thought. With a stream at the bottom."
"No stream," said the captain. "Nothing but vegetation. Down this a
stream of red-hot lava must have flowed and burned the vegetation clean
away, leaving a place for the mud to come down and harden as you have it
now. It may have been a year after the eruption--twenty, fifty, or a
hundred years, but there it is."
"If you are right, we should see traces of the burning on the trees,"
said the major.
"That does not follow. These trees may have sprung up since, right to
the very edge of the stream, but no farther."
"Then under this mud or bitumen there ought to be lava according to your
ideas. How shall we prove it?"
"If I am right," said the captain, "we shall find that this stream ends
all at once, just as the lava hardened when the flow ceased, for there
was no stream of volcanic matter right down to the shore."
"And there is no stream of mud any further," said Mark laughing; "for
there's the end."
Mark was quite right, for about a couple of hundred yards below them the
mighty walls of verdure suddenly came together and blocked out further
progress, while, when they reached the spot, it was to find that the
bituminous mud spread out here into a pool, further progress being, as
it were, stopped by a dam of blackish rock which resembled so much
solidified sponge, so full was it of air-holes and bubble-like cells.
"I am no geologist," said the major, "so I give in to you, Strong. You
must be right."
"I think I am," said the captain, quietly examining the rocky dam and
the surface of the mud. "Yes, I should say that here is the explanation
of this curious stream."
"Then all I can say is," said the major wiping his forehead, "that I
wish the eruption had been a little bigger, and the lava stream had
ended on the sands exactly one hundred yards from camp."
"And the mud had flowed over it and made our road?" said Mark laughing.
"That goes without saying," cried the major. "Now, then, I propose a
halt and food."
There was plenty of shade close at hand, but unfortunately no water.
Still, a good rest and a hearty meal proved most grateful, and as soon
as it was done the major lit a cigar, the captain, Small, and two of the
men seemed to be dozing, and Mark and Billy Widgeon looked at them and
then at each other.
"Going to do a bit o' hammock work, Mr Mark, sir?" said Billy.
"I'm not sleepy."
"More am I, sir. Let's see if we can't get some fruit."
"All right!" cried Mark, jumping up.
"Don't go far, my boy," said the captain; and Mark started, for he had
thought his father was asleep, while on looking at him he still lay back
in the same position with his eyes closed.
"No, father, I won't go far," he said.
"Keep within range of a shout--well within range, for it's very easy to
get lost in one of these jungles, and we shall be too tired to hunt for
you now."
"I won't go far," said Mark; and he and Billy Widgeon began to walk
slowly back along the stream, looking to left and right for a way
between the trees into the jungle.
"You thought the skipper was asleep?" said Billy in a whisper. "Never
ketches him asleep, as we all knows. It's always t'other. So soon as
one o' us as ought to be awake goes off, he finds us out, and no
mistake."
Mark did not answer, and Billy went on:
"It's my belief that when the skipper shuts his eyes he sets his ears to
work to see and hear too. Ah, here we are! Here's a place where we can
go in. I say, Mr Mark, did you eat any o' that cold treacle pooden?"
"No? Bill, I did not."
"Good job, too, sir. It was cooked in one o' they hot springs, and I'm
blest if it didn't taste like brimstone and treacle. Lor', how thirsty
I am! Wish I could find one o' them wooden-box fruit."
"What? cocoa-nuts?"
"No, sir: durings. They are good after all. Give's your hand, my lad."
He bent down from a mass of basalt, which seemed to be the end of a
rugged wall which penetrated the trees, and along which it was possible
to climb more easily than to force a way through the dense growth which
wove the trees together.
"I can manage, Billy," said Mark. "Go on."
Billy turned, and, apparently as active as if he had just started, he
climbed on, parting the bushes that grew out of the interstices and
holding them aside for Mark to clear them, and then on and on, without
the sign of a fruit-tree or berry-bearing bush. The sun beat down
through the overshadowing boughs, but the two had risen so high that the
forest monarchs had become as it were dwarfed, and it was evident that
they would soon be above them and able to look down on their tops.
"Why, Billy," exclaimed Mark, "if we go on, we shall soon be able to see
the sea, and the best way down to the camp."
"Sure we shall, Mr Mark, sir," said the little sailor, descending a
sudden slope and helping Mark to follow, after which they wound in and
out for about a quarter of an hour, thoroughly eager in their quest for
a way to simplify the descent of the rest of the party.
All at once the captain's final words came to memory, and Mark
exclaimed:
"Here; we mustn't go any farther, Billy. We'll turn back now."
"All right! Mr Mark, sir, we'll soon do that; and then we can all come
on this way together. We can show 'em now, eh?"
"Yes," said Mark; "but let's see, which way did we come? Along there,
wasn't it?"
"'Long there, Mr Mark, sir? No, not it. Why, we come this way, down
by these rocks."
"No, that couldn't be right, Billy, because the sun was on our left when
we turned round, and you helped me down that rock."
"Was it, sir? Then it must be down here."
Billy led the way and Mark followed; but at the end of a few minutes he
called a halt.
"No, no; this can't be right," he cried, as he gazed about a wilderness
of huge rocks and trees, where bushes sprang up on every hand.
"Well, do you know, Mr Mark, sir, that's just what I was a-thinking,"
said Billy. "I've been a-puzzling my head over that there block o'
stone as is standing atop o' that tother one, and couldn't recollect
seeing of 'em afore."
"No; it must be this way," said Mark uneasily. "How stupid, to be sure!
We must find our way back."
"Why, of course, Mr Mark, sir; and we will; but it aren't us as is
stupid, it's these here rocks and trees as is all alike, just as if they
was brothers and sisters, or peas in a pod."
"Don't talk so," said Mark angrily, as he realised more fully their
position; and a sense of confusion made him petulant. "Let's act and
find our way. Now, then, which way does the mud-stream lie?"
Billy scratched his head, stared about, and then said softly:
"Well, sir, I'll be blest if I know."
And Mark thoroughly realised the fact that they were lost.
CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.
HOW MARK SOUGHT THE CLUE.
Were you ever lost? Most probably not; and hence you will hardly be
able to realise the strange sensation of loneliness, helplessness, and
despair which comes over the spirit as the traveller finds that he
missed his way and is probably beyond the reach of help in some
wilderness, where he knows that he may go on tramping wearily until he
lies down and dies.
Mark Strong's case was not so bad, but he felt it painfully for many
reasons. Among others there was the knowledge that he had utterly
forgotten the injunction given to him to take care and not go too far;
while another was the dread that though they had been nominally
searching all day for the strange beast that had caused so much alarm,
and seen nothing, now that he and his companion were helpless they might
possibly stumble upon its cave.
"Oh, Billy, what have we been doing?" he cried impatiently.
"Well, Mr Mark, sir, I don't know as we've been doing o' hanything
pertickler."
"But we've lost our way."
"Well, yes, sir, I s'pose we've lost that there; but it don't much
matter--do it?"
"Matter!--of course!" cried Mark angrily; and, as if born by nature to
lead, he at once took the command and gave his orders. "Now, you climb
to the top of that rock and see if you can make out the course we ought
to take; and I'll climb that one yonder."
"All right, Mr Mark, sir!" cried the little sailor, starting off.
"And mind, we come back to this spot directly."
"Right, sir! we will."
"Then, off!"
Mark slowly and painfully scaled the side of a steep sloped ravine, and
when he reached the top, with the perspiration running down his cheeks,
he looked round, to see trees, rocks, and the beautiful cone of the
volcano.
That was something; and he reasoned that if he turned his back to the
mountain and walked straight down and onward, though he would not be
able to join his party he would reach the shore.
But no sooner had he arrived at this comforting assurance that he would
have nothing to fear from starvation than all his hopes were dashed to
the ground, as he realised the fact that, as soon as he descended from
the giddy height at which he stood, he would lose sight of the mountain
and have no guide; while to go straight on among the mighty moss-covered
rocks, which were pitched helter-skelter all over the place, was as
impossible as to go through the jungle without a gang of men with
bill-hooks to hack a way among the dense undergrowth.