"You're another," growled Wriggs; "but don't stand hargeying there.

Here's Mr Lane that stiff he can't move hisself, and he wants us to give him a real 'poo."

"Whatcher mean, mate?"

"Well, a shampoo, then."

"Hold on. Don't you try them games, mate, for you was never cut out for the work. He thinks that's a joke, Mr Lane, sir. But do you want your jyntes rubbed a bit?"

"No, no, I shall be better directly," cried Oliver. "Oh, yes, I can walk. Only a bit stiff. Where are the others?"

"Coming through that bit o' wood, sir, where it's all thorns and fish-hooks. Mr Rimmer's there and your two messmates."

"But how did you get through the mist?"

"We didn't, sir. We got a boat down to the sh.o.r.e, launched her and rowed doo north for a bit, and then landed and come along hunting for yer. Why, that there mist goes right down the sh.o.r.e and out to sea, where you can smell it as it comes bubbling up through the water."

"But how did you get a boat down?" cried Oliver. "It must be a good two miles."

"Nay, sir, seemed to us like a bad four mile," grumbled Wriggs.

"Yah! not it, Billy. Oh, we did it, sir. Took the littlest, and the carpenter made a couple o' runners for it out of a spare yard, and so long as we picked our way she come along beautiful. Yer see we meant to do it, and o' course we did it, and here we are."

"Ahoy!" yelled Wriggs again, and an answer was heard from close at hand, as Panton suddenly came into sight.

"Found him?" he shouted, but he caught sight of his companion at the same moment, and rushed, out of breath and streaming with perspiration, to catch Lane's hands; his lips moved as he tried to speak, but not a word would come.

"Ahoy!" yelled Wriggs again, and Smith followed his example after turning his back to the two young men.

A minute later Drew came into sight, and then Mr Rimmer, and somehow, he, too, seemed to be affected like Drew and Panton, for he could only shake hands and try to speak, but not a word came.

"Lost all my wind," he cried, at last, but in a husky, choky voice.

"All right now, and jolly glad to see you again, sir. Hang it, what's the matter with my throat? I know: it's those nuts I picked as we came along. Phew! how hot it is."

"Lane, old chap," whispered Panton, "we thought you'd left us in the lurch."

"That we did," said Drew, blinking his eyes, and then blowing his nose very loudly. "But, I say, are you all right!"

"Yes, only stiff and very hungry."

"Hungry?" cried the mate. "Hi! who's got the prog bag?"

"Them two's got it, sir," said Wriggs. "Here they come." As he spoke a couple more men came into sight, and deferring all farther questioning till Lane's hunger had been appeased, they descended to where the nearest water trickled amongst the rocks, and were soon all seated enjoying an _al fresco_ meal, the rugged lava forming table and chairs, and the abundant growth of ferns giving a charm to the verdant nook, and sheltering them from the sun.

"Well, all I can say is," cried the mate, "that you've had a very narrow escape, sir, and, thank heaven, we're all here to tell you so, for there were moments when I thought that it was all over with us. But, phew!

how hot it is."

"Yes," said Panton, "a steamy heat. We ought to be getting back to the boat. It will be cooler towards the sea. What's the matter, Drew?"

"I was examining these ferns. How curious it is."

"What, their withering up so?" said Lane. "Yes, I was noticing it. Are they sensitive plants?"

"Oh, no!" cried Drew, "those are the mimosa family. But look here, you can see them fade and droop as you watch them; I suppose it is in some way due to our presence here."

"Watcher fidgeting about, Billy?" said Smith, just then. "It's hot enough without you playing the fool. Shuffling about like a cat on hot bricks."

"That's just what is the matter with me, matey," grumbled Wriggs. "Just you put yer hand down here. This here rock's as hot as a baker's oven."

"So's this here," said one of the men who had carried the provisions.

"Hadn't we better go 'fore there's roast man for brexfa.s.s?"

"Really, gentlemen, it's uncomfortably hot here," said Mr Rimmer, and just then there was a peculiar tremor beneath them, and a shock as if they were upon a thin crust which had received a sharp blow from beneath.

They all started to their feet, and the first disposition was to run.

"Don't leave your guns!" roared Panton, and each man s.n.a.t.c.hed up his piece. The next moment they fell prostrate and clung to the nearest rocks, for the earth began to sink beneath them, and the huge stones upon which they had been seated a short time before glided away.

"Quick!" cried Lane, as the surface, which had been nearly level, now hung down in a precipitous slope. "This way!"

He set the example of climbing upward, and they reached a level spot again just as there was a sharp crack, a deafening roar, and from out of the vast chasm, which had opened, there was a rush of fire, and smoke rose suddenly towards where they cl.u.s.tered.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

SMITH TURNS TURTLE.

The rush of smoke and fire pa.s.sed away as rapidly as it had come, but the slope newly made ran down to where the light of day was reflected back from a dim mist which bore somewhat the aspect of disturbed water, but the earth, being quiescent once more, no one displayed any desire to make an examination of the opening, but at once gave it what the mate called a wide berth.

"Let's get back to the boat," he said. "You must be pretty well done up, Mr Lane."

"Well, I am stiff," said Oliver, stooping to give one leg a rub, "but I feel refreshed now, and I was thinking--"

He stopped short and gazed back at the mountain with its glistening cloud cap and smooth slope of ashes dotted with blocks of lava and pumice, the latter flashing in the sunshine, and the whole having an alluring look which was tempting in the extreme.

"What were you thinking?" said Panton; "not of climbing up again?"

"Yes, I was thinking something of the kind. It seems a shame, now we are on the slope, not to go right up and see the crater and the view of the whole island which we should get from there?"

The mate gave one of his ears a vexatious rub, and wrinkled up his forehead as he turned to give Drew a comical look.

"Yes; what is it?" said that gentleman.

"Oh, nothing, sir," replied Mr Rimmer. "I was only thanking my stars that I wasn't born to be a naturalist. For of all the unreasonable people I ever met they're about the worst."

"Why?" said Oliver, innocently.

"Why, sir!" cried the mate; "here have you been missing all this time, and by your own showing you've been nearly bitten by snakes and clawed by a leopard, suffocated, swallowed up, stuck on a bit of a bridge across a hole that goes down to the middle of the earth, and last of all nearly scorched like a leaf in a fireplace by that puff which came at us. And now, as soon as you have had a bite and sup, you look as if you'd like to tackle the mountain again."