“Well, this beats anything I’ve ever seen!”
Ned uttered the exclamation as the boys stood on the western lip of the
fiery crater of Kilauea.
“Looks like the entrance to the bad place,” commented Herc.
All about the boys and their guide, not to forget Blue Lightning with
his confining rope, shot up arid precipices, wrought into fantastic
forms by fire and lava. Below them glowed the eternal fires of the
volcano, and the air was filled with a sulphurous reek proceeding from
several boiling springs.
Not a bush, or tree or a blade of vegetation of any sort was to be
seen. Against the blue sky, like a smoking factory chimney, the crater
poured heavenward unceasingly a veil of yellowish smoke.
The guide told them that it was some years since the volcano had been
in eruption, but that at times streams of lava had flowed down the
mountain side, wiping out plantations and native huts. Far out at sea,
ships had been showered with the ashes, and a pall of smoke so dense as
to render the island almost invisible had involved it in a perpetual
twilight during the hours when the sun was above the horizon.
“In our tongue we call that ‘Bad Year,’” volunteered the guide.
“I’d like to get some souvenirs of this place to take home,” remarked
Herc. “Look at that shelf down there. It seems to be formed of some
sort of glittering rocks. I guess I could get some easy enough.”
“You’ll stay right here,” rejoined Ned firmly. “Every time you come
ashore you get into trouble and I’m determined to keep you out of it
this trip if I can.”
“Pshaw! that ledge isn’t more than twenty feet down and it’s an easy
scramble for a sailor,” scoffed Herc.
“Yes, but if you ever slipped?”
“Well, I’d be cremated free of charge, unless the mountain refused to
swallow me and chucked me up again with a fireworks display.”
Both boys peered over the edge into the fiery abyss below. Even in the
daylight they could catch a faint glimpse of nature’s vast furnaces.
The guide told them that not long before a love-sick young Hawaiian
had cast himself into the depths of the volcano when he learned of the
death of his sweetheart. In ancient times before the white man came, he
said, when a chief died many of his subjects were thrown alive into the
fiery pit as a sacrifice to the gods.
“Umph!” grunted Herc. “I’ll bet it’s not much hotter than that bunker,
at that.”
The guide told them to follow him to the other side of the crater
where an even finer view could be obtained of the subterranean fires.
Ned set off by the Hawaiian’s side, listening with interest to his
description of the old tribal rites that took place on the very ground
which they now trod.
So engrossed was he with the guide’s tales and legends, as they made
their way over the rough ground, that it was not till they had gone
some distance that he noticed that Herc was not with them. At the same
instant there came a wild yell and cry from the rear.
“Wow! Help! I’m a goner!”
A shoulder of rock hid from them the place where Ned had last seen
Herc, but the boy darted quickly back. What he saw as he came into view
of the spot almost froze the hot blood in his veins.
Straight down toward the fiery mouth of the volcano Herc was tumbling,
grabbing frantically as he went any projecting bit of rock. But none of
them held him.
“Heavens! He’ll fall into the volcano!” almost screamed Ned.
The sight was almost too painful to be borne. There didn’t appear to be
a chance that Herc could save himself. To Ned and the guide it seemed
that he was doomed to be plunged into the crater and burned to death in
its glowing, oven-like depths.
But suddenly Ned gave a cry of joy. In his fall, Herc had struck the
very ledge upon which he had spied the glittering specimens of rock,
one of which he had been so anxious to procure. By an almost superhuman
effort he had checked his fall, and was now lying trembling and pale on
this insecure shelf overhanging the glowing mouth of the crater.
Ned set out running, with the guide at his heels. When he reached a
spot directly above the ledge to which Herc was clinging, he shouted
down at him:
“Are you all right, Herc?”
“Yes, so far; but the gases from this bake-oven are choking me. Get me
out of here quick!”
“Can’t you climb up?”
“No; the cliff bulges out right above me. I could never make it.”
“Goodness, what are we to do? Here, you,” to the guide, “hurry and get
a rope some place.”
“No can get rope nearer than Glenwood,” declared the guide.
“That will take too long.”
Ned racked his wits desperately for some way out of the dilemma. It was
clear that Herc could not long hang suspended over the gaseous volcano
without choking and losing his hold. And yet what was he to do?
In his quandary he glanced about him seeking some way out of the
difficulty. Suddenly his eyes fell on Blue Lightning. The animal was
nosing about among the rocks vainly seeking a blade of grass. From his
neck trailed the long rope that Herc had purchased that morning.
“The very thing!” cried Ned, as his eyes fell on the rope. “What a bit
of luck that Herc bought it!”
He ran to the edge of the cliff. Herc was still clinging on to the
ledge.
“Hurry up on deck, there,” he hailed, “I’m getting sea-sick.”
“Can you hold on a few minutes longer?”
“I guess so; but this climate doesn’t agree with me very well.”
“Well, keep up your courage. I’m going to get you out.”
“How?”
“Wait a while and you’ll see. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Ned ran back and disengaged the rope from Blue Lightning’s neck. He
raced for the cliff edge again, and having made a loop in the lower end
of the rope, lowered it to Herc. He wished it had been thicker, but it
appeared to be made of good, close-woven manila and Ned prayed that it
would stand the strain.
“Place the loop under your arms,” called Ned.
“All right. I see I’m to be a sort of human elevator.”
“That’s it. Come on, Mr. Guide; lay hold here.”
Ned and the Hawaiian laid hold of the rope and began to haul with all
their might. Herc helped them by digging his toes into the rocks and
climbing upward, his weight supported by the rope.
“Hurray! We’ll get you up now all right, my hearty!” cried Ned.
But his jubilation was premature. The Hawaiian, a short, slim fellow
without much muscle or weight, gave a sudden yell.
“No can hold no more.”
He dropped the rope at the same instant, and Ned felt his feet fly from
under him as the weight of Herc came suddenly on his arms alone.
“Wow! I’m gone!” came a terrified yell from Herc as he felt his body
rush downward. All at once he was stopped with a jerk that almost
dislocated his shoulders. There he hung, dangling out over the crater
and wondering how long it would be before he would be precipitated
into the natural furnaces that seemed to be reaching out for him.
What had happened was this. Ned, after the first shock of surprise
when the guide dropped the rope, had succeeded in digging his feet
up against a rock as Herc’s weight pulled him toward the edge of the
crater. This rock cropped out of the ground in pillar-like formation,
and he had swiftly taken two turns around it with the rope as if it had
been a hitching post. As he did so, a sudden idea came into his head.
“Bring up those ponies,” he shouted to the cowardly, mean-spirited
guide who had so nearly been responsible for Herc’s death.
The guide brought the little animals up.
“Now help me hold on to this rope,” ordered Ned brusquely. “If you let
go again, you’ll go over into the volcano yourself, sabe?”
“Yes, mister. Me do as you say.”
“All right. You’d better. Ready now?”
Ned unwound the rope from the rock, being careful to take up the strain
as it came. This done, he secured the rope around the pommels of the
saddles of both the ponies, the saddles being of the high-peaked
Mexican variety best adapted for mountain riding.
“Hold tight, Herc!” he shouted.
“All right!” came from below, and Herc began to feel himself rising as
the two ponies were driven forward by the guide.
“Keep on going till I tell you to stop,” cried Ned to the man. Then the
Dreadnought Boy hastened once more to the edge of the cliff. He could
have shouted with joy as he saw Herc being drawn steadily upward toward
him. But he dared not shout or talk till he had Herc safely beside him.
“Stop!” he yelled suddenly to the guide as Herc’s red head bobbed
within reach.
“Go ahead--whoa!--ahead a little--stop!”
Ned reached out his arms and Herc grabbed them. An instant later the
Dreadnought Boys stood side by side on the lip of the crater in which
Herc had so narrowly escaped immolation.
“Thank goodness, you’re all right!” cried Ned, wringing his chum’s hand
frantically.
“Yes, and I’ve brought you a little souvenir from there, too,” said
Herc with perfect calmness, thrusting his hand into his blouse. “It
was while I was rubbering over looking for specimens that I lost my
grip and went topsy-turvy down the cliff. So while I was down there I
thought I’d bring some up with me.”
He thrust into Ned’s hand a bit of the glittering stone to which he had
first called attention.
“That’s worth more than a million dollars,” he said solemnly.
“How’s that, Herc?”
“Well, it would take about ten times that to persuade me to go down
there again.”
The rope which had done such good service was attached to Blue
Lightning again, and as the boys had seen quite enough,--almost too
much,--of the volcano, they began the descent without delay. The guide
was full of all sorts of explanations for his action in dropping the
rope, but as may be imagined the boys did not pay much attention to him.
As they rode into Glenwood in plenty of time to catch the evening train
back to Hilo, a white-uniformed native policeman came up to them.
“You are to come with me,” he said.
“Delighted. But what for?” asked Herc. “Has some big-wig invited us to
dinner?”
“No, you are under arrest.”
“Arrest!” cried Ned.
“What for, for trespassing inside the crater?” demanded Herc.
“I don’t know what you mean. You are charged with assault on Onamee, a
farmer back on the mountain.”
A great light burst on both boys.
“Oh, it’s the picnic party we broke up,” cried Herc. “Well, you’d
better arrest the goat for that.”
“I have orders, also, to bring the goat before the magistrate,” was the
serious reply.
“Oh, he wants to get our goat, does he?” demanded Herc.
“Herc, don’t make fun of this thing. It may be serious,” spoke Ned
in a low voice. “We will go with you, sir,” he added, addressing the
constable.
“Very well. This way, please.”
“Great starboard salvos! In bad again,” groaned Herc dismally as,
followed by a jeering crowd, they set off down the street.