54 VOYAGES OF A NATURALIST 



tirmally slipping, so that by this time the treasure 

 must be buried deep, beyond all hope of recovery. 



Far away and almost on the horizon the rocky 

 islets of Martin Vas, on which no one is yet known 

 to have landed, were discernible. 



It was next to impossible to make our way 

 down to the windward side of the island ; 

 moreover, it was getting late in the afternoon, 

 so we decided that the best thing to do was to 

 descend to the " Pier " by the same way we had 

 come. But instead of taking the " Cascade " 

 valley, we begun to descend by another deep 

 valley close to it. The surface of the ground 

 here was even more brittle than in the " Cascade " 

 valley, and the descent was very steep. My 

 companion and a sailor started first and safely 

 reached the first of the tree-ferns. Seeing that 

 they were safely down I started, but the ground 

 was now considerably broken up by their feet, 

 and I found that it was extremely difficult to get 

 a foothold in the powdery red-coloured earth, 

 which slipped away from under me like sand. 

 Suddenly, and without any warning, the whole of 

 the ground gave way, and, enveloped in a cloud of 

 choking dust, I felt myself rushing down the 

 incline, and, before I could realize what had 

 happened, I was standing, or rather sitting, close 

 to my companions. My first thought was for the 

 camera and slides which, together with my gun, 

 had been slung on my back. Most fortunately 



