By degrees the force of the water abated, the slope being too steep for it to continue long within the regular channels which scored the mountain side; and leaving their temporary asylum, the fugitives pressed on in the hope of reaching the ravine up which they had been making their way that morning when they hung back and were left behind.
But it was in a bewildered way that they pushed on, till hours must have passed, feeling that there was nothing for them but to try and find a refuge in some rude shelter such as they had several times encountered by the side of one of the lava-streams, where in cooling the volcanic matter had split up and broken, and formed wildly curious, cavernous places, any one of which would have been welcome.
Night was coming on fast; they dare not attempt to descend, and it began to be plain that they would have to be content with a resting-place on some stony patch from which the water had drained, when, as they staggered along, just within the sheltering gloom of the huge forest trees, they stumbled upon one of the ancient lava-streams, which stopped their progress like some mountainous wall, and a very few minutes’ search was sufficient to find the shelter they required, a dark, cavernous place whose flooring was of volcanic sand.
“It’s dry as a bone, Mr Jack, sir,” said Ned, after stooping down, “and as warm as warm. Well, sir, if this ain’t sunshine after storm I should like to know what is!”
Jack was too much exhausted to reply, and directly after he began to follow his companion’s example by stripping off and wringing his clothes.
“Black sunshine this, Ned,” he said.
“Well, sir, it is certainly; but you can’t say it ain’t warm. You put your hand down on the sand.”
“Yes; it’s quite warm, Ned.”
“Why, is this only the back-door into the burning mountain, sir? Because if so, will it be safe?”
“Ned, I’m too tired to talk. Pray be quiet and let me think. We must be safer than out upon the mountain side. Let’s lie down and rest.”