A Voyage round the World: A book for boysKingston, William Henry Giles
General
A Voyage round the World: A book for boys
Kingston, William Henry Giles
Voyages around the world -- Juvenile fiction
We collected several specimens of sulphur and lava, and also a quantity
of what the natives call the hair of Pele. Every bush around was
covered with it. It is produced from the lava when first thrown up, and
borne along by the air till it is spun into fine filaments several
inches in length. It was of a dark olive colour, brittle, and
semi-transparent. In our descent of the mountain we entered long
galleries, the walls and roof hung with stalactites of lava of various
colours, the appearance being very beautiful. They are formed by the
lava hardening above, while it continues to flow away underneath--thus
leaving a hollow in the centre. We might have spent many days in
wandering about that strange, wild region, but we had seen enough to
talk about ever afterwards. We got back safe to the station; and when
there, we found that Mr Callard had resolved to remain some time on the
island. He begged us, consequently, to take back the schooner to
Honolulu, with directions for her to return for him in a fortnight. It
seemed quite strange to us to be at sea again after the wonderful scenes
we had witnessed, and Jerry declared that he was well content to find
himself afloat with a whole skin on his body. The wind came round to
the north-east, and we had to stretch away to the westward to lay a
course for Honolulu. We were about thirty miles off the land when the
wind fell light, and gradually a thick fog arose, in which we found
ourselves completely shrouded. We still stood on, keeping as good a
look-out as we could through the mist, lest we should run foul of any
other vessel--not that such an event was likely to happen just then in
the Pacific. When night, however, came on, the fog grew still thicker,
and the darkness became so great that we literally could not see our
hands held out at arm's-length before us. Mr Brand had kept the middle
watch, and then Jerry and I, with Ben Yool, went on deck, with some of
the native crew, to take the morning watch. We glided slowly on over
the dark waters, the breeze falling gradually, till it was almost a
calm. Jerry and I were walking the deck together, talking of the
strange sights we had lately seen, when, happening for a moment to be
silent, a cry, or it might have been a shriek, struck my ears, as if
wafted from a distance across the water.
"Did you hear it, Jerry?" I asked.
"Yes; did you? What can it be?" he answered. "Ah! there's another--it
cannot be fancy."
"No; I heard it distinctly," I remarked. "There is some mischief going
forward, I fear. What is to be done?" Again that faint, wailing cry of
distress reached our ears.
"You don't believe in ghosts, do you?" said Jerry. "If there were such
things, I should fancy that those cries were uttered by them, and
nothing else."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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