DANGEROUS VOLCANO EXPLORING
The journey to St. Marie was made without special incident, and
thirty-six hours later the party landed in the little village, to find
it all but deserted. Many of the inhabitants had fled in boats and
others had journeyed overland to Fort de France.
On landing, the boys and the professor lost no time in making inquiries
concerning the road to Basse Pointe. They were told that it ran along
the shore, past Grand Anse, another village, also deserted. There were
a number of bridges to cross, and whether these were in good condition
nobody could tell.
“This is getting more risky,” observed the professor, but at that
moment a black man came up who could speak English, and he offered to
guide them to any point they wished to go providing they would pay him
a sum equal to five dollars per day,--this amount being a small fortune
to the fellow.
“We’ll take you up, Gambo,” said the professor. “Let us start at once.”
And they set off, each carrying some food with him, for there was no
telling what desolation lay in store for them.
Gambo was a bright, intelligent fellow, and under his guidance they
made rapid progress. By nightfall they reached Grand Anse, to find it
covered with volcanic dust and stones. Only four natives had remained
there, and they said they were going to depart as soon as a certain
boat came back for them. They asked Gambo about the Americans, and then
said they had seen some other Americans up in the mountains, the day
before the awful eruption.
“They must have been Mark’s father and mine!” cried Frank, excitedly.
“Ask them where they went to?”
Gambo did so. The reply was uncertain. The Americans had been at a
small settlement called Frodamalos but where they had gone after that
was not known.
“Where is Frodamalos?” questioned Professor Strong.
“Up the mountainside,” answered Gambo. “It is close to Pelee.”
“I don’t care--I’m going anyway,” said Frank. “I don’t believe we are
going to have any more eruptions--at least, not right away.”
Again there was a conference, but in the end the professor yielded,
and they went forward towards the interior of Martinique. The lofty
height of Mont Pelee was before them, still crowned with black smoke
and many-colored vapor. The mighty giant was resting, preparatory to a
greater exhibition of strength.
The evidences of the fearful eruption were more and more pronounced as
they advanced. Down near the shore the vegetation had been only dust
covered, here it was literally burnt up. The trees were stripped bare,
leaving only the black trunks standing. The ground was cracked in a
thousand places, while here and there were large deposits of mud and
lava, twisted and turned into all sorts of curious shapes. Occasionally
they passed the bones of some animal, and in one spot they came upon
the partly consumed bodies of two natives who had died locked in each
other’s arms. At the sight of the dead natives Gambo fell upon his
knees in horror. Then of a sudden he leaped up, turned, and fled in the
direction from whence he had come, running as if a legion of demons
were at his heels.
“He has deserted us,” said the professor, after calling for the negro
to come back. “Even the offer of five dollars per day in gold couldn’t
hold him after such a sight.”
“But I am not going to turn back,” said Mark, with set teeth, and he
strode on, with Frank beside him; and the others followed.
It was hard walking and climbing, and frequently they had to pause to
get their breath. The air seemed to grow more suffocating as they drew
nearer to the volcano.
“It is the gas,” said Professor Strong. “I think we had better go
back.” And he shook his head doubtfully.
“There are the ruins of a village!” exclaimed Sam, pointing to a hill
on their left. “That must be Frodamalos.”
Without replying Mark led the way toward the spot pointed out. They
had to cross a bed of lava and mud that was still warm, and then leap
a wide ravine before they could get close to the wreckage of huts and
houses.
“Not a person in sight, nor a dead body,” remarked Frank, as they gazed
about them. “That looks encouraging. Everybody here evidently got out
before the big explosion.”
“Let us go a little closer to the volcano, now we are here,” suggested
Sam. “I don’t believe there is any immediate danger of another
outburst.”
The sight of the lofty mountain, with its smoke and vapor, was a
fascinating one, and cautiously they moved forward once more until they
could see the openings and the streams of lava quite plainly. The top
of the mountain appeared to be split into several sections, and at one
point they could see a ruddy glow that betokened a vast fire beneath.
“Come, let us go back,” said Professor Strong, decidedly. “This is far
too dangerous. We have seen enough.” And he caught Mark and Frank by
the arm.
“Look! look!” cried Darry, pointing with his hand. “The fire is growing
brighter!”
“And the lava is beginning to flow again!” ejaculated Sam. “You are
right, professor, we had best get away from here!”
All looked back and saw that Sam was right. The lava was beginning to
flow from two of the vents in the mountain top. It was a steaming,
hissing and dangerous looking mass, and began to move down on both
sides of them.
“We must run for it!” exclaimed Professor Strong. “If we do not that
lava may cut off our retreat. Come!” And he set off, with all of the
boys around him.
It was no easier to descend the mountainside than it had been to come
up. Rocks and loose stones were numerous, and it appeared to them that
some of the cracks in the surface were wider than before. Once Darry
stumbled and fell, and the wind was knocked out of him so completely
that the others had to help him up and hold him for a moment. Then they
turned in the wrong direction and encountered a bed of half-dried mud
into which they sunk up to their shoe tops.
“Hi! this won’t do!” called out Sam, who was in the lead. “We’ll all be
stuck like flies on flypaper. We’ll have to go to the right.” And this
they did.
Looking back they saw that the lava was now flowing at a greater rate
than ever. It hissed and steamed viciously, as if anxious to overtake
them. The main flow on their right had divided into two streams and one
of these was coming straight for them!
“We must get to the other side of yonder split in the rocks!” cried
Professor Strong. “It’s our only hope. Come, boys!” And he urged them
before him.
The crevasse he mentioned was a good fifty yards away, and now the lava
was approaching with incredible swiftness, like some fiery serpent bent
upon their destruction. On and on they sped, until their breath came
thick and fast and poor Frank felt on the point of fainting away. The
professor caught him by the shoulder and almost dragged him to the edge
of the opening.
With the lava at their very heels the boys and Professor Strong made
the leap over the wide crevasse. The professor had Frank by the hand
and went over in safety with his charge, and the leaps of Mark and
Darry were equally successful. But poor Sam, as he started to jump,
slipped and fell.
“Help!” cried Sam, and then half fell across the opening, to clutch at
the edge of the crevasse with his hands. There was next to nothing to
hold to, and he was on the point of dropping out of sight when Mark
made a dive for him, followed by Darry. Each caught a wrist in his
grasp and pulled with all of his strength, and in a moment more Sam
was safe. But the escape had been a narrow one, and the youth was as
pale as a sheet.
As the whole party collected on the opposite side of the opening the
lava poured into it with an increased hissing and a rapid rising of
steam. Then, as the lava struck some water far below, there was a loud
report, followed by others.
“Come, we have no time to waste!” went on the professor. “That opening
will soon fill up and then the lava will be after us again. We must get
down to the ocean without delay.”
Again they went on, this time in an irregular line, each holding on
to the others. Frank had a stitch in the side, and so had Darry, but
neither dared to complain. They knew it was a run for life.
At last they came in sight of the sea, far below them, for they had
come out on something of a cliff. There was a rough path leading
downward, and over this they stumbled, they could scarcely tell how,
afterward. Then they ran out along a broad beach. They saw a boat not
far away and called loudly to those on board.
At first the craft refused to come in for them. It was a small affair,
manned by two Frenchmen. But Professor Strong promised the sailors a
big reward for their assistance, and presently our friends were taken
aboard.
“That ends volcano exploring for me,” gasped Sam, when they were safe
on board. “That was a close shave.”
“It certainly was,” came from Darry. “It was only that split in the
earth that saved us from that stream of lava.”
Neither Mark nor Frank said anything. The exploration, so far as
finding out anything about their parents was concerned, had been a
failure.
The French sailors were bound for St. Pierre by way of the north
passage around the island, and there was nothing to do but to remain
on board until the capital city was reached. It was now seen that Mont
Pelee was getting ready for another eruption.
This outburst, four-fold greater than those already described, occurred
the next day, while the small craft was well away from the shore. The
thunder and lightning from the volcano were something stupefying, and
tremendous masses of rocks and lava were hurled forth, to lay the whole
northern end of Martinique in complete desolation. The ruins of St.
Pierre were all but buried from sight, and the force of the eruption
was felt even as far south as Fort de France, where much dust and not
a few stones fell, to add to the terror of a population already on the
verge of despair.
It may be as well to add here that Martinique was at these trying times
not the only island in that vicinity to suffer from volcanic action. On
St. Vincent, a British possession one hundred miles further south, the
volcano called La Soufriere went into equal activity, and an eruption
at Mont Pelee was usually attended by a similar happening at the other
volcano, showing that the two were most likely in some way connected.
The activity of La Soufriere threw the natives of St. Vincent into a
panic, and although but few people, comparatively, were killed, yet
they flocked to Kingstown, the capital, and many begged the government
to aid them in getting away. It was a time of great anxiety in all the
Lesser Antilles and many predicted that all these islands, which as
already mentioned, are in reality nothing but the tops of a long range
of mountains, would either blow up or sink into the sea.