130 THE ARCTURUS ADVENTURE 



hell-like zone, while a single, daisy-flowered, aro- 

 matic shrub, and two half-burned cacti repre- 

 sented the outposts of plants or their forlorn hope. 



As I lay on my back, half in the cool water, I 

 heard the cry of a young pup seal, and in the cave 

 of a tiny ravine just back of some mangroves I 

 discovered the ideal nursery of the little chap. He 

 hitched himself in, just out of arm's reach, as I 

 approached. A hot breath of air struck on my neck 

 and the quickened memory of the past five hours 

 sent me quickly back to the coral lagoon, there to 

 bathe until I left for the ship. 



After eight glasses of water and a bottle of beer 

 my aqueous equilibrium was restored and I studied 

 the shore with the increased interest of intimate 

 experience. I had acquired infinitely greater re- 

 spect for the details of what met my eyes. I 

 laughed when I thought how blandly I had chosen 

 yonder crater far up on the slope as my goal, and 

 then shifted to the comparatively tiny vent so near 

 the shore, and which had proved large and danger- 

 ous enough to kill a hundred men in as many sec- 

 onds, if they were to remain that length of time on 

 the conical summit of the appalling gridiron. 



I sought information from the best authority 

 upon volcanos and at the outset was delighted to 

 find the entire subject accredited in a most techni- 

 cal geology to a wholly heathen god of old — Vul- 

 can. I felt that my own consummate ignorance of 

 the subject was less reprehensible when I read, 

 "For the present, volcanic hypotheses must work 

 out their own destiny." 



