Fire Island Part 72
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"Sarve yer right for being so clumsy. You should use it like this here."
"Well, I did, matey."
"I'm blest!" cried Smith, throwing down the piece of volcanic gla.s.s, and dabbing at his nose, whose side was bleeding slightly.
"Cut yoursen?"
"Ay: didn't know it was so sharp as that."
Wriggs chuckled heartily, and the little party moved on as well as they could for the great fissures about the rim, some of which went down into profound depths, from whence rose up strange hissings and whisperings of escaping gases, and breathings of intensely hot air.
There was so much to see, that they would willingly have gone on trying to follow the edge all round, but before long they had warnings that the whole of one side was impa.s.sable from the vapours rising from the various fuming rifts, and that it would be madness to proceed; and at last as Panton was pressing his friends to persevere for a few yards farther, they had what Smith called "notice to quit," in a change of the wind that wafted a scorching heat toward them, which, had they not fled over the side and down the outer slope for a short distance, would have proved fatal.
It was only temporary, though, for the fresh cool air came again, and they stopped, hesitating about returning.
"We ought to have thought of it sooner," said Panton.
"Never mind, I'll climb back to yonder," said Oliver, pointing. "That seems to be the highest point. Come with me, Smith," and he began to climb the ascent once more, closely followed by the sailor.
"Whatcher going to do, sir?" cried the man, as Oliver took out what seemed to be a good-sized gold watch.
"You'll soon see," replied Oliver, as he toiled upward.
"But can't yer see what's o'clock down where they is, sir, just as well as up yonder?"
Oliver laughed, and kept on making for a conical rock needle, evidently the remaining portion of a ma.s.s of the crater edge when it was fifty feet or so higher, and being wider had remained, when other portions were blasted away by the terrific explosions which had occurred.
"Yer not going to climb up atop there, are yer, sir?" said Smith.
"Yes, you stay below," said Oliver. Finding that, as he had expected, it was an intensely hard miniature mountain of vitrified scoria, and tolerably easy of ascent, he began to climb.
"He aren't my orsifer," muttered Smith, "and I shan't stop back. I should look well if he had an accident. So here goes."
As Oliver mounted, he climbed after him, till they stood together, right on the conical pinnacle, with only just room for them to remain erect, the great boiling crater below on one side, the glorious view of the fairy-like isle, with its ring of foam around, and the vivid blue lagoon, circling the emerald green of the coast. There it all was stretched out with glorious clearness, and so exquisite, that for a few moments Oliver was entranced.
Then the fairy-like vision became commonplace, and Oliver started back to everyday life, for Smith said gruffly,--
"Better see what's o'clock, and come down, sir, for that there big pot's a-going to boil over again."
Even as he spoke there was a roar, a great gush upward of fiery fluid, and a sensation of intense heat, while the pinnacle upon which they stood literally rocked and threatened to fall.
"Quick! get down," said Oliver, taking out the watch-like object once more, glancing at it, and then replacing it in his vest.
"Comin' too, sir?"
"Yes, all right; five thousand nine hundred feet."
Smith stared, but went on descending, followed by Oliver, while the glow shed upon them was for a few moments unbearable. Then the huge fountain of molten rock ceased playing, the glow scorched them no longer, and they scrambled and slid down in safety to where their friends were waiting, and commenced their descent after taking their bearings as well as they could.
"What did you make it?"
"Just over five thousand nine hundred."
"And we've got nearly all that distance to go down," said Drew. "I'm tired already."
But there was no help for it, and they toiled on down among the crevices in safety, and finally reached the brig, but not till close upon midnight, rejoicing, in spite of their weariness, upon a great feat achieved.
"But it caps me, that it do," said Smith in the forecastle.
"What does?"
"Why, for that Mr Oliver Lane. I knows as we say they gents has got tools for everything, but I never knowed as there was watches made as could tell yer the time and how high up yer are all at once. Well, there is, and I see it all, and it's quite right. I mean to have one of them watches, and I asked Mr Oliver Lane about 'em. He says you can buy 'em in London for thrippenten apiece, and I think he says as they was made by a woman, Mrs Annie Royd, but I aren't quite sure."
"But yer can't afford to give thrippenten for one of they things,"
growled Wriggs.
"How do you know, matey? Mebbe I can, my lad."
"What yer want it for?"
"See how high yer are up when yer climbs mountains. I mean to say it would be grand."
"Ah, well, I don't want one o' them," said Wriggs, thoughtfully.
"What do you want, then?"
"One o' them things as yer looks through into a drop a' water and sees as what yer drinks is all alive."
"Not you," said Smith, contemptuously; "what you wants is plenty more water in big tanks in our hold, and if I was Mr Rimmer, cap'en of this here s.h.i.+p, I should make some, and keep 'em full."
"What for? Swimmin' baths?"
"Swimmin' great-grandmothers," growled Smith, contemptuously. "No, my lad, I've got a sort o' sentiment as one o' these days the n.i.g.g.e.rs'll come and catch us on the hop, and if so be as they do, and we keep 'em from gettin' in here, do you know what it'll be?"
"Stickin' knives and harrers in us, if they can."
"No," said Smith, laying his hand upon his companion's shoulder and placing his lips to his ear, with the result that Wriggs started away with his face looking of an unpleasant clay colour.
"Think so, mate?" he gasped.
"Ay, that I do, Billy. They will as sure as a gun." Oddly enough, just about the same time as the two sailors were holding this conversation, a chat was going on in the cabin respecting the lugger and how to get her launched. Like Smith, the mate seemed to be suffering from a "sentiment," and he was talking very seriously.
"I did not see it before," he said, "but it all shows what noodles we are when we think ourselves most clever."
"Interpret," said Panton; "your words are too obscure."
"I mean about the lugger," said the mate. "I went well all over it in my mind before I began her, and saw that it would be much easier to build her here where everything was handy than to carry the materials down to the edge of the lagoon."
Fire Island Part 72
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Fire Island Part 72 summary
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