04 Volcano Adventure (14 page)

The ground was hot underfoot. The crack was only a foot or so long and just wide enough to admit the nozzle of the two-inch hose.

The three men peered down into the fiery chamber. It opened out below into a cave that seemed to extend towards or beneath the pass and was brilliantly illuminated by the glow of white-hot lava.

They could look more than fifty feet down but still could not see the bottom. It was this tremendous chamber of fire that they were going to turn into a gigantic steam boiler. Fooling around on top of a steam boiler was nervous work. They could only hope the doctor was right and the thing would not pop as soon as the water struck the lava.

Hal signalled to Omo to start the pump. Water from the lake poured up through the hose and thundered down into the white cavern. It struck the blazing lava with the wild sizzling roar of cold against hot and immediately a cloud of steam rose. Was the thing going to blow up after all without giving them time to escape?

But as the deluge continued the pocket where the water landed turned from white to a dull red and the steam diminished. The cold water was being rapidly heated but more water kept tumbling in to delay the process. For five minutes the flood continued. Then Dr Dan shouted: ‘That’s enough!’

Omo turned off the pump. At the same moment he threw the idling engine into reverse. The ship was already moving backwards when the men scrambled aboard. The engine spluttered - everyone looked anxiously at Omo. It would be most unpleasant if the motor should fail now and leave them to be the victims of their own plans.

The engine coughed and spat, but it was only teasing. It did not really mean to let them down. Perhaps it loved the Lively Lady as much as they did. While threatening at any moment to go dead, it managed to keep turning and steadily drew the little ship back out of danger.

Dr Dan was not satisfied until they were half a mile away and close to one of the small islands. There the Lively Lady came to and the men gathered at the bow to await anxiously the result of their experiment.

The lazy plume of smoke issuing from the crack had been replaced by a strong, erect jet of steam. It was very

slender but it shot up to a height of twenty or thirty feet.

‘We could have plugged that hole,’ said Roger.

‘It wouldn’t have done any good,’ Dr Dan said. ‘The steam would have blown the plug out.’

The hiss of the escaping steam could be plainly heard across the water. Then the column of steam suddenly enlarged to twice its former size.

‘That means it has torn away some of the rock and made the hole bigger,’ said Hal. ‘If it keeps on doing that…’

But Dr Dan was not disturbed. He knew the mechanics of steam. ‘It’s like this,’ he said. ‘Suppose there’s a giant in that chamber. He gets one finger out through the crack. Does that mean he can escape through the crack? Of course not. He’s too big. The only way he can get out is by breaking the chamber apart. That’s what I think the steam giant is going to do any minute now.’

They watched in silence, their nerves tight. Were they far enough away? Even the doctor could not tell how strong the explosion might be. At least they were sure no natives would be hurt - their villages were on the higher part of the ridge far from the pass.

By the way, where had the villagers gone? Hal scanned the heights but could see no one around the burning houses. Falling bombs were continually starting new fires but there was no one to put them out. Where had the people disappeared to?

He looked again towards the pass. The jet of steam was now so strong and high that it looked like Old Faithful of Yellowstone. The hissing had changed to a harsh sound that cut like a knife. The giant was becoming very angry.

Then with a roar and a blast of fire he broke out of his prison, flinging rocks in all directions, cold rocks and blazing rocks and liquid lava and billowing oceans of steam that cut off the view.

Now they could see nothing - except some whizzing fragments that fell towards the deck. They dodged these to the best of their ability and waited in suspense for the cloud to clear.

It thinned with tantalizing slowness. The men strained their eyes. Now they could see the ridge again but it had changed. There was still a heavy mist where the pass should be.

As it lifted they almost choked with relief for there, shining bright between the black rocks, an open channel led from the lake to the ocean.

‘Glory be! ‘ shouted Captain Ike. ‘She’s all clear. Omo, engine!’ He beamed at Dr Dan.

‘I forgive you,’ he said. ‘But it’s the last time you’ll ever get this ship into a volcano.’

Dr Dan grinned. ‘That’s all right with me,’ he said. ‘I didn’t enjoy it too much myself.’

Under power, the Lively Lady sailed towards the pass.

‘Slow,’ cautioned the captain. ‘May be rocks under the surface.’

The ship crept out through the channel. Her keel felt no rocks - the explosion had done its work thoroughly. In a few moments the vessel was rising and falling in the free and open ocean with all the elbow room between America and Asia. Everybody was fairly intoxicated with this new freedom.

Their gaoler roared his anger at their escape. Earthquakes shook the island, sending waves in pursuit of the Lively Lady, and the craters tossed out fire and showers of rocks.

Through the rumbling and the roaring came another note, a long even note, the whistle of a steamer.

‘Must be the Matua,’ said Dr Dan. ‘We ought to be able to see her when we get around this headland.’

As they circled the point they could see it plainly - the approaching steamer under its plume of smoke. Hal understood now why the people had deserted the burning villages. They had seen the steamer long before and had gone down to the beach to await its coming. They stood on the shore, hundreds of brown men, women, and children, and a few white men who might be Roman Catholic priests or Wesleyan missionaries. Some of the islanders had small bundles on their backs, but most had saved nothing. They stood there hopeless and homeless, their beautiful island ravaged by fire, their plantations buried under ashes and cinders, their lives endangered by the shower of death from thirty craters.

As the Lively Lady came near, a canoe put off from shore carrying several islanders and a white man. When it came alongside, the white man stood up in the boat and addressed Captain Ike, who was at the rail.

‘My name is Kerr,’ he said. ‘Missionary here.’

‘I’m Captain Flint. Come aboard.’

‘We saw your little ship in the lake,’ said Kerr as he climbed up. ‘I’m afraid you had a bad night. Is there anything we could do for you now?’

Captain Ike was surprised. ‘It’s not a question of what you can do for us, but what we can do for you. Good of you to think of us, but you must have had a lot tougher time than we did.’

‘Terrible,’ admitted the missionary. ‘This was one of the most beautiful islands in the South Seas. Now it’s nothing but a smoking ruin. Thirteen hundred people have lost practically everything they owned. We don’t know what to do - stay on the island or try to get away. It all depends on whether the eruption will die down or get worse.’

‘That’s something I wouldn’t know,’ said Captain Ike. ‘But we have a volcano man aboard - he might be able to tell you.’ He introduced Dr Dan.

‘I wish I could give you some encouragement,’ the doctor told the missionary, ‘but frankly, I believe the eruption is just starting. The worst is yet to come.’

‘Then what a blessing it would be if your ship and the Matua could take us off. Do you think that would be possible?’

‘Not only possible,’ said Dr Dan, ‘but it’s all arranged. The Matua is coming because I called her last night. I couldn’t consult you first, and of course you don’t have to leave, but I would strongly advise it. Your people have already lost what they owned - if they stay they will lose their lives as well.’ ‘But we can’t pay for our passage.’ That won’t matter so far as the Lively Lady is concerned. Of course I can’t speak for the skipper of the Matua’ Dr Dan looked at the approaching ship. ‘He

seems to be bearing down on us. In a few minutes hell have a chance to speak for himself.’

The Matua was a big inter-island trading steamer well known in the South Seas. She was sturdily built but so old that some people claimed she dated from the days when ships of this sort carried slaves to the plantations. But whether she had ever been a slaver or not, she had broad decks and a big hold large enough to carry hundreds of passengers, provided they were willing to sleep on deck and below without bunks.

With a jingling of bells and churning of reversed propellers the Matua came alongside the Lively Lady. There it lay like a whale beside a goldfish, its bridge as high as the little ship’s masthead.

From the bridge peered down a face that looked none too pleasant where it could be seen at all between the clumps of scrubby whiskers.

‘You called me,’ shouted the owner, of the face. ‘Where are the passengers?’

‘Yonder on the shore,’ Captain Ike replied.

‘All those? Hell’s bells! I’ve got something to do besides lug kanakas around the Pacific’

Mr Kerr came forward. ‘Captain, I’m one of the missionaries on this island. You can see what the eruption is doing to our island. The volcanologist here tells us it’s going to get worse instead of better. We have to get away.’

‘Oh, you have to get away, do you? So you think we have to take you. You expect us to take you away because you don’t like, a little fire and brimstone. What’d you come here for in the first place? You knew it was a live volcano. This ship is a trader - I have to show a profit to the owners. Now, talk business. How many people are there?’ , ‘Thirteen hundred.’

Captain Ike said, ‘We can take a hundred on the Lively Lady.’

‘That leaves twelve hundred,’ said the captain of the Matua, ‘Where to?’

‘Since the island belongs to the Queen of Tonga,’ said the missionary, ‘I suppose we should be taken to Tonga.’ ‘Tonga!’ grumbled the captain. ‘A good three hundred miles. Throw me two days off my schedule. Smell up my ship with twelve hundred sweating kanakas. Well, nobody can say I ain’t good-hearted. I’ll take the lot of you at a pound apiece.’

‘Twelve hundred pounds,’ muttered Hal. ‘The big pirate! That’s more than thirty-three hundred dollars.’

The missionary’s face was flushed with anger but he kept his voice steady. ‘I know this is a great inconvenience to you, captain, but it is an emergency. You might say it’s a matter of life and death. And as for your price, I have no doubt it would be fair enough under normal circumstances. But you must understand we are destitute. We would not be able to pay for our passage.’

The captain’s face purpled. ‘And you bring me a hundred miles off my course to tell me this? By the Holy Harry, if I had my way I’d dump you all into those craters, Goodbye - I’ll see you in hell!’

He laid his hand on the telegraph to signal the engine-room. ‘Wait a minute,’ called Dr Dan. ‘You’ve forgotten’

something. These people belong to Tonga. Perhaps the Tongan government would pay their passage.’

‘Perhaps the moon is made of green cheese,’ retorted the captain. ‘I can’t waste time on perhapses.’

‘But you can easily find out,’ insisted Dr Dan. ‘Call Tonga and ask.’

The captain grumpily clawed his beard. Then he muttered an order to the mate who went back to the radio room.

Within twenty minutes a reply came from Tonga. Queen Salote of Tonga would personally stand responsible for the fares of the refugees.

‘All right,’ barked the Matua captain, ‘let ‘em come.’

The missionary went ashore and the people could be seen gathering around him to hear his report. Then with happy shouts they rushed to the water’s edge. A few of the old folks got into the one canoe but all the rest leaped into the sea and swam for the ships, regardless of sharks. Women perched their babies on their shoulders where they could hang on to their mother’s hair. The tots were not frightened for they were well used to the water. Many a Polynesian baby learns to swim before he can walk.

Up the rope ladders of the Lively Lady and the Matua clambered the dripping swimmers. Soon both ships were packed to the gunwales. Crowded together like sardines, it would be an uncomfortable voyage, but the Polynesians, with their ability to be lighthearted even in the face of disaster, chattered and laughed and sang.

(So it was that Niuafou, more often called Tin Can Island, was evacuated. The island was burned to a crisp by the frightful eruption that followed. Months later a few hardy spirits returned. Now, as this book is written, nineteen people have rebuilt their homes among the blackened ruins. There they defy the volcano god who continually mutters through his thirty mouths, ‘I told them to keep off my island. Shall I have to tell them again?’)

When the thirteen hundred refugees had been delivered to Her Majesty, Salote, Queen of the Tongas, the Lively Lady sailed for Hawaii.

All the Pacific had been talking about the eruption that for many weeks had been gathering strength on the southernmost island of the Hawaiian group.

The greatest volcano in the world, Mauna Loa, had sent lava snakes crawling down to destroy the lovely city of Hilo. Every day the fiery rivers came closer. How could they be stopped before they reached the city?

Dr Dan was anxious to study the new eruption, and to do what he could to help solve the problem. He had another reason for wishing to land at Hawaii. There he could get rid of the Lively Lady and her crew.

‘She’s a fine little ship,’ he admitted to Captain Ike as the schooner smartly tacked into the trade wind on the long ‘uphill’ climb to Hawaii. ‘And that fellow Hal has his points - but I don’t trust him.’

‘You’ve reached the point where you don’t trust anybody,’ said Captain Ike. ‘If you ask me, I’d say there’s something wrong in your noggin.’

Dr Dan smiled in an attempt to be tolerant. ‘I’m not surprised that you talk that way. Hunt has poisoned your mind against me. He’s made everybody on this ship think that I’m touched in the head. For all I know, he’s reported me to my bosses. He wants my job.’ ‘What makes you think so?’