Chapter Four.

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.

“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.

“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.

“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.

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