Part 83 (1/2)

”All right, sir, you're master.--Good-bye, good victuals!” Ned added in an undertone.--”Won't have hurt the taters, sir, there was all this thick layer of ashes between.”

”Are they burnt up?”

”No, sir, just right, and floury as can be. Look at that.”

It was getting too dark to see much; but Jack made out that the little round vegetable was all floury where it was broken.

The whole cooking was raked out, the ashes scattered away, and Ned proceeded to take out his knife and hand it to his young master, with instructions to cut out his s.h.i.+rt-sleeves just at the shoulder.

”I shall be warm enough without them, sir,” he said. ”There: now we'll just tie up the ends, and here we have a good bag apiece to carry the taters in. Nothing like having a bit of string in your pocket, sir. I wonder whether Robinson Crusoe had a bit o' string when he was wrecked; I 'spose he would have, because he could have twisted up a bit out of the old ropes. It's always useful, sir. There you are, now. I'll tie the bags together, and swing 'em over my shoulder, one on each side.”

”I'll carry one.”

”You shall have 'em both, sir, when I'm tired and want a bit of a rest.

Now then, ready, sir?”

”Yes.”

”Then shoulder arms: march!” They made for the ridge of lava, climbed upon it without much difficulty, and began to ascend the gradual slope it formed, till they were shut in by the trees rising on either side, when the darkness became so intense that their progress was very slow, and they had to depend a good deal upon their spears used as alpenstocks. But one great need urged them on, and it chased away the thoughts of pursuit, and of the risks they were running. This need acted as a spur, which kept them crawling up the solidified river for fully a couple of hours, which were diversified by slips and falls more or less serious.

At last, as the lava flood took a bend round toward the north, they became aware of a bright glow high above their heads, where the summit of the volcano must be, and after a remark from Ned that it looked as if a bit of the sunset was still there, Jack grasped its meaning.

”It's the reflection of the fire that must be burning up at the top of the mountain.”

”Think so, sir? Well, I suppose it's too far off to hurt us. That's miles away.”

”Yes; but we are walking on one of the rivers which ran down, and these stones we keep kicking against were once thrown out.”

”Ah, you've read a lot about such things, sir; I haven't. Then you say it's all fire up there?”

”Yes, Ned; look, it's getting brighter.”

”Then what's the good of our expecting to find water?”

”Because so many springs rise in mountains, and so much water condenses there. Hark! what's that?”

Ned listened.

”Can't hear anything, sir.”

”Not that?” cried Jack, whose senses seemed to be sharpened by his needs.

”No, sir, nothing at all.”

Jack made no remark, but pressed on with more spirit than he had before displayed. Then he stopped short in the darkest part they had encountered, a place where the trees encroached so much from the forest on either side that they seemed to be completely shut in.

”Now can you hear it, Ned?” cried the boy triumphantly.

”Yes, sir, I can hear it now--water, and a lot of it falling down the rocks. It must be there just below.”