The whole top of the mountain seemed to have gone up like a discharge from a gigantic cannon. There was a vast cloud of blackness sweeping and rolling in every direction, a blackness lit up by patches of fire of various colors. The cloud came on and on, growing larger and larger, until it hid the sun and made all as dark as night. The fire was everywhere, filling the air like rain.
The captain of the Vendee was calling to the wheelman to turn the steamer about when a mighty wave struck the craft, sending her staggering to starboard. The boys held on like grim death, Hockley shrieking in his terror. Then the vessel righted herself, only to be heeled over again, worse than before.
And now that cloud, or the extreme edge of it, reached them and a noxious gas made them gasp for breath. There was dust, mud and red-hot stones in that cloud, and they fell everywhere on the deck of the steamer as she turned to escape what looked like certain destruction. Some of the fire landed on the boys and the professor, and in a twinkling their clothes were aflame.
“Help! help!” roared Hockley. “I am burning up!” And then he made a dash for the cabin, slapping out the fire as he ran. The others came after him, putting out the flames as best they could.
All was confusion on board, the passengers running hither and thither, not knowing what to do. “The volcano is bursting!” was the cry. “We are doomed! The sea will open and swallow us!” Some fell upon their knees praying, others ran to the captain imploring him to run away from the land, while one nervous and highly excited old man leaped into the sea, to be seen no more.
The sea was now foaming and boiling on all sides of the ship. The hot stones as they fell sent up a loud hissing and some of them cracked open with pistol-like reports. The superheated mud was of a sticky nature and where it fell it dried fast like so much plaster.
In a few minutes the black cloud lifted somewhat, but the patches of fire came down as thickly as ever. The Vendee was set on fire in a score of places, the masts and tarry ropes flaming up like so many torches. She had now been turned about and was running for the open sea at the top speed of her engine.
“The ship is on fire! The ship is on fire!” Such was the cry taken up a minute later, when it was seen that the craft had righted and was running steadily on her new course. “We must put out the flames! Form a bucket brigade!” And this was done, while the captain ordered the hose brought into use.
His first surprise over, Professor Strong grew calm, and at once set to work to do all in his power to assist in saving the Vendee. He found a bucket, filled it with water and started to put out the fire that had taken hold of a corner of the rear deck house. Without delay Sam and Darry joined him. Hockley remained in the cabin, wringing his hands in despair, afraid to remain alone and equally afraid to go outside, where the patches of fire still filled the air.
“Boys, you had better keep under shelter,” panted Professor Strong, as he worked away vigorously, not only with the water bucket but also with a wet swab he had discovered. “This is highly dangerous, and——”