Presently they came to the edge of a black chasm and the American was filled with awe, for, from the seemingly fathomless depths, came a great roaring sound like that of a mighty wind and the air that came from it was hot, though pure and free from the odor of gas.
“What is this?” he asked.
“They are everywhere,” answered Branasko, “if it were not for their hot breathing the Land of the Changing Sun would be cold and damp.”
“Then the sun does not give out heat?”
“No.”
“It is cold?”
“I believe so, I have never thought much about it.”
The American was mystified, but he did not question farther, for Branasko was carefully lowering himself into the hot gulf.
“Follow me,” he said; “we must cross it to reach the caves. I will guide you. I have been over this way before.”
“But can we stand the heat?”