"Now, then, fur scuddin!" said Turk, "no use stayin' here to be speared to death, which is a most uncomfortable way of dyin', 'specially when you are afterwards b'iled in a pot for the blueskins' dinner."
He drew the young man along to a clump of bushes near the base of an enormous tree.
"I've sighted this tree before," said he, "which I know is holler. It's big enough to hold you and me. Afterwards we can see to the gal, if there's any way to save her, whereas if we should try now, we'd only be killed, which sartinly would be a poor way for keepin' the lass."
Harry saw the sense of this remark at once. With the old seaman, he crouched in the bushes.
"Well have to get into the tree, mole fashion," said Turk, "see'n' as the hole leading to the inside of it, is scooped out underneath."
So saying he displaced some bushes, and bade his friend crawl into the aperture thus revealed.
Harry did so, and was soon followed by Turk.
In the hollow tree, the two now glanced up, to see through an opening in the trunk, broken half way off, the lurid gleam of the volcanic fire.
"Here we are, moles as is moles!" exclaimed Turk.