This tremendous introduction to volcanic fires was but the prelude to a
period of eruptive action which has not been paralleled in the world's
history.
For a short time after this, indeed, the genial nature of the weather
tended to banish from the minds of our travellers all thoughts of
violence either in terrestrial or human affairs, and as the professor
devoted himself chiefly to the comparatively mild occupation of catching
and transfixing butterflies and beetles during the march southward,
there seemed to be nothing in the wide universe above or below save
peace and tranquillity--except, perhaps, in the minds of beetles and
butterflies!
Throughout all this period, nevertheless, there were ominous growlings,
grumblings, and tremors--faint but frequent--which indicated a condition
of mother earth that could not have been called easy.
"Some of the volcanoes of Java must be at work, I think," said Nigel one
night, as the party sat in a small isolated wood-cutter's hut discussing
a supper of rice and fowls with his friends, which they were washing
down with home-grown coffee.
"It may be so," said Van der Kemp in a dubious tone; "but the sounds,
though faint, seem to me a good deal nearer. I can't help thinking that
the craters which have so recently opened up in Krakatoa are still
active, and that it may be necessary for me to shift my quarters, for my
cave is little more, I suspect, than the throat of an ancient volcano."
"Hah! say you so, mine frond? Zen I vould advise you to make no delay,"
said the professor, critically examining a well-picked drumstick. "You
see, it is not pleasant to be blown up eizer by the terrestrial
eruptions of zee vorld or zee celestial explosions of your vife.--A
leetle more rice, Moses if you please. Zanks."
"Now, mine fronds," he continued, after having disposed of a supper
which it might have taxed a volcano's throat to swallow, "it is viz
great sorrow zat I must part from you here."
"Part! Why?" asked the hermit in surprise.
"Vy, because I find zis contrie is heaven upon eart'. Zat is, of
course, only in a scientific point of view. Zee voods are svarming, zee
air is teeming, ant zee vaters are vallo'ing vit life. I cannot tear
myself avay. But ve shall meet again--at Telok Betong, or Krakatoa, or
Anjer, or Batavia."
It was found that the man of science was also a man of decision.
Nothing would persuade him to go a step further. The wood-cutter's hut
suited him, so did the wood-cutter himself, and so, as he said, did the
region around him. With much regret, therefore, and an earnest
invitation from the hermit to visit his cave, and range the almost
unexplored woods of his island, the travellers parted from him; and our
three adventurers, dismissing all attendants and hiring three ponies,
continued their journey to the southern shores of Sumatra.
As they advanced it soon became evident that the scene of volcanic
activity was not so far distant as the island of Java, for the air was
frequently darkened by the falling of volcanic dust which covered the
land with a greyish powder. As, however, at least sixteen volcanoes
have been registered in the island of Sumatra, and there are probably
many others, it was impossible to decide where the scene of eruption
was, that caused those signs.
One afternoon the travellers witnessed a catastrophe which induced them
to forego all idea of spending more time in examining the country. They
had arrived at a village where they found a traveller who appeared to be
going about without any special object in view. He spoke English, but
with a foreign accent. Nigel naturally felt a desire to become sociable
with him, but he was very taciturn and evidently wished to avoid
intercourse with chance acquaintances. Hearing that there were curious
hot-water and mud springs not far off, the stranger expressed a desire
to visit them. Nigel also felt anxious to see them, and as one guide
was sufficient for the party the stranger joined the party and they went
together.
The spot they were led to was evidently a mere crust of earth covering
fierce subterranean fires. In the centre of it a small pond of mud was
boiling and bubbling furiously, and round this, on the indurated clay,
were smaller wells and craters full of boiling mud. The ground near
them was obviously unsafe, for it bent under pressure like thin ice, and
at some of the cracks and fissures the sulphurous vapour was so hot that
the hand could not be held to it without being scalded.
Nigel and the stranger walked close behind the native guide, both,
apparently, being anxious to get as near as possible to the central
pond. But the guide stopped suddenly, and, looking back, said to Van
der Kemp that it was not safe to approach nearer.
Nigel at once stopped, and, looking at the stranger, was struck by the
wild, incomprehensible expression of his face as he continued to
advance.
"Stop! stop, sir!" cried the hermit on observing this, but the man paid
no attention to the warning.
Another instant and the crust on which he stood gave way and he sank
into a horrible gulf from which issued a gust of sulphurous vapour and
steam. The horror which almost overwhelmed Nigel did not prevent him
bounding forward to the rescue. Well was it for him at that time that a
cooler head than his own was near. The strong hand of the hermit seized
his collar on the instant, and he was dragged backward out of danger,
while an appalling shriek from the stranger as he disappeared told that
the attempt to succour him would have been too late.
A terrible event of this kind has usually the effect of totally
changing, at least for a time, the feelings of those who witness it, so
as to almost incapacitate them from appreciating ordinary events or
things. For some days after witnessing the sudden and awful fate of
this unknown man, Nigel travelled as if in a dream, taking little notice
of, or interest in, anything, and replying to questions in mere
monosyllables. His companions seemed to be similarly affected, for they
spoke very little. Even the volatile spirit of Moses appeared to be
subdued, and it was not till they had reached nearly the end of their
journey that their usual flow of spirits returned.
Arriving one night at a village not very far from the southern shores of
Sumatra they learned that the hermit's presentiments were justified, and
that the volcano which was causing so much disturbance in the islands of
the archipelago was, indeed, the long extinct one of Krakatoa.
"I've heard a good deal about it from one of the chief men here," said
the hermit as he returned to his friends that night about supper-time.
"He tells me that it has been more or less in moderate eruption ever
since we left the island, but adds that nobody takes much notice of it,
as they don't expect it to increase much in violence. I don't agree
with them in that," he added gravely.
"Why not?" asked Nigel.
"Partly because of the length of time that has elapsed since its last
eruption in 1680; partly from the fact that that eruption--judging from
appearances--must have been a very tremendous one, and partly because my
knowledge of volcanic action leads me to expect it; but I could not
easily explain the reason for my conclusions on the latter point. I
have just been to the brow of a ridge not far off whence I have seen the
glow in the sky of the Krakatoa fires. They do not, however, appear to
be very fierce at the present moment."
As he spoke there was felt by the travellers a blow, as if of an
explosion under the house in which they sat. It was a strong vertical
bump which nearly tossed them all off their chairs. Van der Kemp and
his man, after an exclamation or two, continued supper like men who were
used to such interruptions, merely remarking that it was an earthquake.
But Nigel, to whom it was not quite so familiar, stood up for a few
seconds with a look of anxious uncertainty, as if undecided as to the
path of duty and prudence in the circumstances. Moses relieved him.
"Sot down, Massa Nadgel," said that sable worthy, as he stuffed his
mouth full of rice; "it's easier to sot dan to stand w'en its
eart'quakin'."
Nigel sat down with a tendency to laugh, for at that moment he chanced
to glance at the rafters above, where he saw a small anxious-faced
monkey gazing down at him.
He was commenting on this creature when another prolonged shock of
earthquake came. It was not a bump like the previous one, but a severe
vibration which only served to shake the men in their chairs, but it
shook the small monkey off the rafter, and the miserable little thing
fell with a shriek and a flop into the rice-dish!
"Git out o' dat--you scoundril!" exclaimed Moses, but the order was
needless, for the monkey bounced out of it like india-rubber and sought
to hide its confusion in the thatch, while Moses helped himself to some
more of the rice, which, he said, was none the worse for being
monkeyfied!
At last our travellers found themselves in the town of Telok Betong,
where, being within forty-five miles of Krakatoa, the hermit could both
see and hear that his island-home was in violent agitation; tremendous
explosions occurring frequently, while dense masses of smoke were
ascending from its craters.
"I'm happy to find," said the hermit, soon after their arrival in the
town, "that the peak of Rakata, on the southern part of the island where
my cave lies, is still quiet and has shown no sign of breaking out. And
now I shall go and see after my canoe."
"Do you think it safe to venture to visit your cave?" asked Nigel.
"Well, not absolutely safe," returned the hermit with a peculiar smile,
"but, of course, if you think it unwise to run the risk of--"
"I asked a simple question, Van der Kemp, without any thought of
myself," interrupted the youth, as he flushed deeply.
"Forgive me, Nigel," returned the hermit quickly and gravely, "it is but
my duty to point out that we cannot go there without running _some_
risk."
"And it is _my_ duty to point out," retorted his hurt friend, "that when
any man, worthy of the name, agrees to follow another, he agrees to
accept all risks."
To this the hermit vouchsafed no further reply than a slight smile and
nod of intelligence. Thereafter he went off alone to inquire about his
canoe, which, it will be remembered, his friend, the captain of the
steamer, had promised to leave for him at this place.
Telok Betong, which was one of the severest sufferers by the eruption of
1883, is a small town at the head of Lampong Bay, opposite to the island
of Krakatoa, from which it is between forty and fifty miles distant. It
is built on a narrow strip of land at the base of a steep mountain, but
little above the sea, and is the chief town of the Lampong Residency,
which forms the most southerly province of Sumatra. At the time we
write of, the only European residents of the place were connected with
Government. The rest of the population was composed of a heterogeneous
mass of natives mingled with a number of Chinese, a few Arabs, and a
large fluctuating population of traders from Borneo, Celebes, New
Guinea, Siam, and the other innumerable isles of the archipelago. These
were more or less connected with prahus laden with the rich and varied
merchandise of the eastern seas. As each man in the town had been
permitted to build his house according to his own fancy, picturesque
irregularity was the agreeable result. It may be added that, as each
man spoke his own language in his own tones, Babel and noise were the
consequence.
In a small hut by the waterside the hermit found the friend--a Malay--to
whom his canoe had been consigned, and, in a long low shed close by, he
found the canoe itself, with the faithful Spinkie in charge.
"Don't go near the canoe till you've made friends with the monkey," said
the Malay in his own tongue, as he was about to put the key in the door.
"Why not?" asked the hermit.
"Because it is the savagest brute I ever came across," said the man.
"It won't let a soul come near the canoe. I would have killed it long
ago if the captain of the steamer had not told me you wished it to be
taken great care of. There, look out! The vixen is not tied up."
He flung open the shed-door and revealed Spinkie seated in his old
place, much deteriorated in appearance and scowling malevolently.
The instant the poor creature heard its master's voice and saw his
form--for his features must have been invisible against the strong
light--the scowl vanished from its little visage. With a shriek of joy
it sprang like an acrobat from a spring-board and plunged into the
hermit's bosom--to the alarm of the Malay, who thought this was a
furious attack.
We need not say that Van der Kemp received his faithful little servant
kindly, and it was quite touching to observe the monkey's intense
affection for him. It could not indeed wag its tail like a dog, but it
put its arms round its master's neck with a wondrously human air, and
rubbed its little head in his beard and whiskers, drawing itself back
now and then, putting its black paws on his cheeks, turning his face
round to the light and opening its round eyes wide--as well as its round
little mouth--as if to make sure of his identity--then plunging into the
whiskers again, and sometimes, when unable to contain its joy, finding a
safety-valve in a little shriek.
When the meeting and greeting were over, Van der Kemp explained that he
would require his canoe by daybreak the following morning, ordered a few
provisions to be got ready, and turned to leave.
"You must get down, Spinkie, and watch the canoe for one night more,"
said the hermit, quietly.
But Spinkie did not seem to perceive the necessity, for he clung closer
to his master with a remonstrative, croak.
"Get down, Spinkie," said the hermit firmly, "and watch the canoe."
The poor beast had apparently learned that Medo-persic law was not more
unchangeable than Van der Kemp's commands! At all events it crept down
his arm and leg, waddled slowly over the floor of the shed with bent
back and wrinkled brow, like a man of ninety, and took up its old
position on the deck, the very personification of superannuated woe.
The hermit patted its head gently, however, thus relieving its feelings,
and probably introducing hope into its little heart before leaving.
Then he returned to his friends and bade them prepare for immediate
departure.
It was the night of the 24th of August, and as the eruptions of the
volcano appeared to be getting more and more violent, Van der Kemp's
anxiety to reach his cave became visibly greater.
"I have been told," said the hermit to Nigel, as they went down with
Moses to the place where the canoe had been left, "the history of
Krakatoa since we left. A friend informs me that a short time after our
departure the eruptions subsided a little, and the people here had
ceased to pay much attention to them, but about the middle of June the
volcanic activity became more violent, and on the 19th, in particular,
it was observed that the vapour-column and the force of the explosions
were decidedly on the increase."
"At Katimbang, from which place the island can be seen, it was noticed
that a second column of vapour was ascending from the centre of the
island, and that the appearance of Perboewatan had entirely changed, its
conspicuous summit having apparently been blown away. In July there
were some explosions of exceptional violence, and I have now no doubt
that it was these we heard in the interior of this island when we were
travelling hither, quite lately. On the 11th of this month, I believe,
the island was visited in a boat by a government officer, but he did not
land, owing to the heavy masses of vapour and dust driven about by the
wind, which also prevented him from making a careful examination, but he
could see that the forests of nearly the whole island have been
destroyed--only a few trunks of blighted trees being left standing above
the thick covering of pumice and dust. He reported that the dust near
the shore was found to be twenty inches thick."
"If so," said Nigel, "I fear that the island will be no longer fit to
inhabit."
"I know not," returned the hermit sadly, in a musing tone. "The officer
reported that there is no sign of eruption at Rakata, so that my house
is yet safe, for no showers of pumice, however deep, can injure the
cave."
Nigel was on the point of asking his friend why he was so anxious to
revisit the island at such a time, but, recollecting his recent tiff on
that subject, refrained. Afterwards, however, when Van der Kemp was
settling accounts with the Malay, he put the question to Moses.
"I can't help wondering," he said, "that Van der Kemp should be so
anxious to get back to his cave just now. If he were going in a big
boat to save some of his goods and chattels I could understand it, but
the canoe, you know, could carry little more than her ordinary lading."
"Well, Massa Nadgel," said Moses, "it's my opinion dat he wants to go
back 'cause he's got an uncommon affekshnit heart."
"How? Surely you don't mean that his love of the mere place is so
strong that--"
"No, no, Massa Nadgel--'snot dat. But he was awrful fond ob his wife
an' darter, an' I know he's got a photogruff ob 'em bof togidder, an' I
t'ink he'd sooner lose his head dan lose dat, for I've seed him look at
'em for hours, an' kiss 'em sometimes w'en he t'ought I was asleep."
The return of the hermit here abruptly stopped the conversation. The
canoe was carried down and put into the water, watched with profound
interest by hundreds of natives and traders, who were all more or less
acquainted with the hermit of Rakata.
It was still daylight when they paddled out into Lampong Bay, but the
volumes of dust which rose from Krakatoa--although nearly fifty miles
off--did much to produce an unusually early twilight.
"Goin' to be bery dark, massa," remarked Moses as they glided past the
shipping. "Shall I light de lamp?"
"Do, Moses, but we shan't need it, for as we get nearer home the
volcanic fires will light us on our way."
"De volcanic dust is a-goin' to powder us on our way too, massa. Keep
your hands out o' the way, Spinkie," said the negro as he fixed a small
oil-lamp to the mast, and resumed his paddle.
"After we get out a bit the wind will help us," said the hermit.
"Yes, massa, if he don't blow too strong," returned Moses, as a squall
came rushing down the mountains and swept over the bay, ruffling its now
dark waters into foaming wavelets.
Altogether, what with the increasing darkness and the hissing squall,
and the night-voyage before them, and the fires of Krakatoa which were
now clearly visible on the horizon, Nigel Roy felt a more eerie
sensation in his breast than he ever remembered to have experienced in
all his previous life, but he scorned to admit the fact--even to
himself, and said, mentally, that it was rather romantic than otherwise!
Just then there burst upon their ears the yell of a steam-whistle, and a
few moments later a steamer bore straight down on them, astern.
"Steamer ahoy!" shouted Van der Kemp. "Will ye throw us a rope?"
"Ay! ay!--ease 'er!--stop 'er! where are 'ee bound for?" demanded an
unmistakably English voice.
"Krakatoa!" replied the hermit. "Where are you?"
"Anjer, on the Java coast. Do 'ee want to be smothered, roasted, and
blown up?" asked the captain, looking down on the canoe as it ranged
alongside the dark hull.
"No, we want to get home."
"Home! Well, you're queer fellows in a queer eggshell for such waters.
Every man to his taste. Look out for the rope!"
"All right, cappen," cried Moses as he caught the coil.
Next moment the steamer went ahead, and the canoe ploughed over the
Sunda Straits at the rate of thirteen miles an hour, with her sharp prow
high out of the water, and the stern correspondingly low. The voyage,
which would have otherwise cost our three travellers a long laborious
night and part of next day, was by this means so greatly shortened that
when daybreak arrived they were not more than thirteen miles to the east
of Krakatoa. Nearer than this the steamboat could not take them without
going out of her course, but as Van der Kemp and Nigel gratefully
acknowledged, it was quite near enough.
"Well, I should just think it was rather too near!" said the captain
with a grin.
And, truly, he was justified in making the remark, for the explosions
from the volcano had by that time become not only very frequent, but
tremendously loud, while the dense cloud which hung above it and spread
far and wide over the sky covered the sea with a kind of twilight that
struggled successfully against the full advent of day. Lightning too
was playing among the rolling black masses of smoke, and the roaring
explosions every now and then seemed to shake the very heavens.
Casting off the tow-rope, they turned the bow of their canoe to the
island. As a stiffish breeze was blowing, they set the sails,
close-reefed, and steered for the southern shore at that part which lay
under the shadow of Rakata.