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Blown to Bits or The Lonely Man of Rakata Part 36

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"Well, then, we will go out and have a look at the state of matters."

The view from the entrance was not calculated to tempt them to forsake the shelter of the cave, however uncertain that might be. The latest explosions had enshrouded the island in such a cloud of smoke and dust, that nothing whatever was visible beyond a few yards in front, and even that s.p.a.ce was only seen by the faint rays of the lamp issuing from the outer cave. This lamp-light was sufficient, however, to show that within the semicircle of a few yards there was a continuous rain of grey ashes and dust mingled with occasional stones of various sizes--some larger than a man's fist.

"To go out in that would be simply to court death," said Nigel, whose voice was almost drowned by the noise of the explosions and fall of material.

As it was manifest that nothing could be done at the moment except to wait patiently, they returned to the cave, where they lighted the oil-stove, and Moses--who had taken the precaution to carry up some provisions in a bag from the canoe--proceeded to prepare a meal.

"Stummicks must be attended to," he murmured to himself as he moved about the cave-kitchen and shook his head gravely. "Collapses in dat region is wuss, a long way, dan 'splosion of the eart'!"

Meanwhile, Nigel and the hermit went to examine the pa.s.sage leading to the observatory. The eruption had evidently done nothing to it, for, having pa.s.sed upwards without difficulty, they finally emerged upon the narrow ledge.

The scene that burst upon their astonished gaze here was awful in the extreme. It will be remembered that while the hermit's cave was on the southern side of Krakatoa, facing Java, the stair and pa.s.sage leading to the observatory completely penetrated the peak of Rakata, so that when standing on the ledge they faced northward and were thus in full view of all the craters between them and Perboewatan. These were in full blast at the time, and, being so near, the heat, as well as the dust, molten lava, and other missiles, instantly drove them back under the protection of the pa.s.sage from which they had emerged.

Here they found a small aperture which appeared to have been recently formed--probably by a blow from a ma.s.s of falling rock--through which they were able to obtain a glimpse of the pandemonium that lay seething below them. They could not see much, however, owing to the smoke which filled the air. The noise of the almost continuous explosions was so loud, that it was impossible to converse save by placing the mouth to the ear and shouting. Fortunately soon after their ascent the wind shifted and blew smoke, fire, and dust away to the northward, enabling them to get out on the ledge, where for a time they remained in comparative safety.

"Look! look at your mirrors!" exclaimed Nigel suddenly, as his wandering gaze happened to turn to the hermit's sun-guides.

And he might well exclaim, for not only was the gla.s.s of these ingenious machines shivered and melted, but their iron frameworks were twisted up into fantastic shapes.

"Lightning has been at work here," said Van der Kemp.

It did not at the moment occur to either of them that the position on which they stood was peculiarly liable to attack by the subtle and dangerous fluid which was darting and zig-zagging everywhere among the rolling clouds of smoke and steam.

A louder report than usual here drew their attention again to the tremendous scene that was going on in front of them. The extreme summit of Perboewatan had been blown into a thousand fragments, which were hurtling upwards and crackling loudly as the smaller ma.s.ses were impelled against each other in their skyward progress. This crackling has been described by those who heard it from neighbouring sh.o.r.es as a "strange rustling sound." To our hermit and his friend, who were, so to speak, in the very midst of it, the sound rather resembled the continuous musketry of a battle-field, while the louder explosions might be compared to the booming of artillery, though they necessarily lose by the comparison, for no invention of man ever produced sounds equal to those which thundered at that time from the womb of Krakatoa.

Immediately after this, a fountain of molten lava at white heat welled up in the great throat that had been so violently widened, and, overflowing the edges of the crater, rolled down its sides in fiery rivers. All the other craters in the island became active at the same moment and a number of new ones burst forth. Indeed it seemed to those who watched them that if these had not opened up to give vent to the suppressed forces the whole island must have been blown away. As it was, the sudden generation of so much excessive heat set fire to what remained of trees and everything combustible, so that the island appeared to be one vast seething conflagration, and darkness was for a time banished by a red glare that seemed to Nigel far more intense than that of noonday.

It is indeed the partiality (if we may say so) of conflagration-light which gives to it the character of impressive power with which we are all so familiar--the intense lights being here cut sharply off by equally intense shadows, and then grading into dull reds and duller greys. The sun, on the other hand, bathes everything in its genial glow so completely that all nature is permeated with it, and there are no intense contrasts, no absolutely black and striking shadows, except in caverns and holes, to form startling contrasts.

"These safety-valves," said the hermit, referring to the new craters, "have, under G.o.d, been the means of saving us from destruction."

"It would seem so," said Nigel, who was too overwhelmed by the sight to say much.

Even as he spoke the scene changed as if by magic, for from the cone of Perboewatan there issued a spout of liquid fire, followed by a roar so tremendous that the awe-struck men shrank within themselves, feeling as though that time had really come when the earth is to melt with fervent heat! The entire lake of glowing lava was shot into the air, and lost in the clouds above, while mingled smoke and steam went bellowing after it, and dust fell so thickly that it seemed as if sufficient to extinguish the raging fires. Whether it did so or not is uncertain. It may have been that the new pall of black vapour only obscured them. At all events, after the outburst the darkness of night fell suddenly on all around.

Just then the wind again changed, and the whole ma.s.s of vapour, smoke, and ashes came sweeping like the very besom of destruction towards the giddy ledge on which the observers stood. Nigel was so entranced that it is probable he might have been caught in the horrible tempest and lost had not his cooler companion grasped his arm and dragged him violently into the pa.s.sage--where they were safe, though half suffocated by the heat and sulphurous vapours that followed them.

At the same time the thunderous roaring became so loud that conversation was impossible. Van der Kemp therefore took his friend's hand and led him down to the cave, where the sounds were so greatly subdued as to seem almost a calm by contrast.

"We are no doubt in great danger," said the hermit, gravely, as he sat down in the outer cave, "but there is no possibility of taking action to-night. Here we are, whether wisely or unwisely, and here we must remain--at least till there is a lull in the eruption. 'G.o.d is our refuge.' He ought to be so at _all_ times, but there are occasions when this great, and, I would add, glorious fact is pressed upon our understandings with unusual power. Such a time is this. Come--we will see what His word says to us just now."

To Nigel's surprise, and, he afterwards confessed, to his comfort and satisfaction, the hermit called the negro from his work, and, taking down the large Bible from its shelf, read part of the 46th Psalm, "G.o.d is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore will not we fear, though the earth be removed, and though the mountains be carried into the midst of the sea."

He stopped reading at the verse where it is written, "Be still, and know that I am G.o.d."

Then, going down on his knees,--without even the familiar formula, "Let us pray"--he uttered a brief but earnest prayer for guidance and deliverance "in the name of Jesus."

Rising, he quietly put the Bible away, and, with the calmness of a thoroughly practical man, who looks upon religion and ordinary matters as parts of one grand whole, ordered Moses to serve the supper.

Thus they spent part of that memorable night of 26th August 1883 in earnest social intercourse, conversing chiefly and naturally about the character, causes, and philosophy of volcanoes, while Perboewatan and his brethren played a rumbling, ill.u.s.trative accompaniment to their discourse. The situation was a peculiar one. Even the negro was alive to that fact.

"Ain't it koorious," he remarked solemnly in a moment of confidence after swallowing the last bite of his supper. "Ain't it koorious, Ma.s.sa Nadgel, dat we're a sottin' here comf'rably enjoyin' our wittles ober de mout' ob a v'licano as is quite fit to blow us all to bits an' hois' us into de bery middle ob next week--if not farder?"

"It is strange indeed, Moses," said Nigel, who however added no commentary, feeling indisposed to pursue the subject.

Seeing this, Moses turned to his master.

"Ma.s.sa," he said. "You don' want nuffin' more to-night, I s'pose?"

"No, Moses, nothing."

"An' is you _quite_ easy in your mind?"

"Quite," replied the hermit with his peculiar little smile.

"Den it would be wuss dan stoopid for me to be _on_easy, so I'll bid ye bof good-night, an' turn in."

In this truly trustful as well as philosophical state of mind, the negro retired to his familiar couch in the inner cave, and went to sleep.

Nigel and the hermit sat up for some time longer.

"Van der Kemp," said the former, after a pause, "I--I trust you won't think me actuated by impertinent curiosity if I venture to ask you about --the--photograph that I think you----"

"My young friend!" interrupted the hermit, taking the case in question from his breast pocket; "I should rather apologise to you for having appeared to make any mystery of it--and yet," he added, pausing as he was about to open the case, "I have not shown it to a living soul since the day that--Well, well,--why should I hesitate? It is all I have left of my dead wife and child."

He placed the case in the hands of Nigel, who almost sprang from his seat with excitement as he beheld the countenance of a little child of apparently three or four years of age, who so exactly resembled Kathy Holbein--allowing of course for the difference of age--that he had now no doubt whatever as to her being the hermit's lost daughter. He was on the point of uttering her name, when uncertainty as to the effect the sudden disclosure might have upon the father checked him.

"You seem surprised, my friend," said Van der Kemp gently.

"Most beautiful!" said Nigel, gazing intently at the portrait. "That dear child's face seems so familiar to me that I could almost fancy I had seen it."

He looked earnestly into his friend's face as he spoke, but the hermit was quite unmoved, and there was not a shadow of change in the sad low tone of his voice as he said--

"Yes, she was indeed beautiful, like her mother. As to your fancy about having seen it--mankind is formed in groups and types. We see many faces that resemble others."

The absent look that was so common to the solitary man here overspread his ma.s.sive features, and Nigel felt crushed, as it were, back into himself. Thus, without having disclosed his belief, he retired to rest in a very anxious state of mind, while the hermit watched.

"Don't take off your clothes," he said. "If the sounds outside lead me to think things are quieting down, I will rouse you and we shall start at once."

It was very early on the morning of the 27th when Van der Kemp roused our hero.

"Are things quieter?" asked Nigel as he rose.

"Yes, a little, but not much--nevertheless we must venture to leave."

"Is it daylight yet?"

"No. There will be no daylight to-day!" with which prophecy the hermit left him and went to rouse Moses.

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Blown to Bits or The Lonely Man of Rakata Part 36 summary

You're reading Blown to Bits or The Lonely Man of Rakata. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): R. M. Ballantyne. Already has 657 views.

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