Blown to Bits: The Lonely Man of Rakata, the Malay Archipelago. Robert Michael Ballantyne
Читать онлайн книгу.
estimated the height of the dust-column issuing from the volcano at 11 kilometres (36,000 feet or about 7 miles).”
To our hero, however, and to Moses, the outburst seemed anything but “moderate,” and that night as they two sat together in the cave after supper, listening with awe-struck faces to the cannonading and wild musketry going on as it seemed under their very feet, the negro solemnly imparted to Nigel in a low whisper that he thought “de end ob de wurld hab come at last!”
Returning at that moment from his observatory, to which he had ascended for a few minutes to view the scene through one of his glasses, Van der Kemp relieved their anxieties somewhat by remarking, in his quiet manner, that there was a distinct diminution in the violence of the explosions, and that, from his knowledge and experience of other volcanoes in Java, Sumatra, and elsewhere, he thought it probable they had seen the worst of it at that time, and that none of the other cones would be likely to break out.
“I’m glad to hear you say so,” observed Nigel, “for although the sight is extremely magnificent and very interesting, both from a scientific and artistic point of view, I cannot help thinking that we should be safer away from this island at present—at least while the volcano is active.”
The hermit smiled almost pitifully. “I do not apprehend danger,” he said, “at least nothing unusual. But it happens that my business requires me to leave in the course of a few days at any rate, so, whether the eruption becomes fiercer or feebler, it will not matter to us. I have preparations to make, however, and I have no doubt you won’t object to remain till all is ready for a start?”
“Oh, as to that,” returned the youth, slightly hurt by the implied doubt as to his courage, “if you are willing to risk going off the earth like a skyrocket, I am quite ready to take my chance of following you!”
“An’ Moses am de man,” said the negro, smiting his broad chest with his fist, “what’s ready to serve as a rocket-stick to bof, an’ go up along wid you!”
The hermit made the nearest approach to a laugh which Nigel had yet seen, as he left the cave to undertake some of the preparations above referred to.2
Chapter Nine
Describes, among other Things, a Singular Meeting under Peculiar Circumstances
There is unquestionably a class of men—especially Englishmen—who are deeply imbued with the idea that the Universe in general, and our world in particular, has been created with a view to afford them what they call fun.
“It would be great fun,” said an English commercial man to a friend who sat beside him, “to go and have a look at this eruption. They say it is Krakatoa which has broken out after a sleep of two centuries, and as it has been bursting away now for nearly a week, it is likely to hold on for some time longer. What would you say to charter a steamer and have a grand excursion to the volcano?”
The friend said he thought it would indeed be “capital fun!”
We have never been able to ascertain who these Englishmen were, but they must have been men of influence, or able to move men of influence, for they at once set to work and organised an excursion.
The place where this excursion was organised was Batavia. Although that city was situated in Java, nearly a hundred miles distant from Krakatoa, the inhabitants had not only heard distinctly the explosions of the volcano, but had felt some quakings of the earth and much rattling of doors and windows, besides a sprinkling of ashes, which indicated that the eruption, even in that eruptive region, was of unusual violence. They little imagined to what mighty throes the solid rocks of Krakatoa were yet to be subjected before those volcanic fires could find a vent. Meanwhile, as we have said, there was enough of the unusual in it to warrant our merchants in their anticipation of a considerable amount of fun.
A steamer was got ready; a number of sightseeing enthusiasts were collected, and they set forth on the morning of the 26th of May. Among these excursionists was our friend Captain David Roy—not that he was addicted to running about in search of “fun,” but, being unavoidably thrown idle at the time, and having a poetical turn of mind—derived from his wife—he thought he could not do better than take a run to the volcano and see how his son was getting along.
The party reached the scene of the eruption on the morning of the 27th, having witnessed during the night several tolerably strong explosions, which were accompanied by earthquake shocks. It was found that Krakatoa and all the adjoining islands were covered with a fine white dust, like snow, and that the trees on the northern part of the former island and Varlaten had been to a great extent deprived of their leaves and branches by falling pumice, while those on Lang Island and Polish Hat, as well as those on the Peak of Rakata, had to a great extent escaped—no doubt owing to the prevailing direction of the wind.
It was soon seen that Perboewatan on Krakatoa was the cone in active eruption, and the steamer made for its neighbourhood, landing her party within a short distance of its base. Explosions were occurring at intervals of from five to ten minutes. Each explosion being accompanied by an uncovering of the molten lava in the vent, the overhanging steam-cloud was lighted up with a grand glow for a few seconds. Some of the party, who seemed to be authorities on such matters, estimated that the vapour-column rose to a height of nearly 10,000 feet, and that fragments of pumice were shot upwards to a height of 600 feet.
“That’s a sign that the violence of the eruption is diminished,” remarked the young merchant, who was in search of fun, as he prepared to wade ankle-deep in the loose pumice up the slopes of the cone.
“Diminished!” repeated our captain, who had fraternised much with this merchant during their short voyage. “If that’s what you call diminishin’, I shouldn’t like to be here when it’s increasin’.”
“Pooh!” exclaimed the merchant, “that’s nothing. I’ve seen, at other volcanoes, pieces of pumice blown up so high that they’ve been caught by the upper currents of the atmosphere and carried away in an opposite direction to the wind that was blowing below at the time. Ay, I believe that dust is sometimes blown miles up into the air.”
As Captain Roy thought that the merchant was drawing the long bow he made no reply, but changed the subject by asking what was the height of Perboewatan.
“Three hundred feet or thereabouts,” replied his friend.
“I hope my son will have the sense to clear out of the island if things look like gittin’ worse,” muttered the captain, as an unusually violent explosion shook the whole side of the cone.
“No fear of him,” returned the merchant. “If he is visiting the hermit of Rakata, as you tell me, he’ll be safe enough. Although something of a dare-devil, the hermit knows how to take care of himself. I’m afraid, however, that you’ll not find it so easy to ‘look up’ your son as you seem to think. Just glance round at these almost impenetrable forests. You don’t know what part of the island he may be in just now; and you might as well look for a needle in a bundle of hay as look for him there. He is probably at the other end of Krakatoa—four or five miles off—on the South side of Rakata, where the hermit’s cave is supposed to be, for no one seems to be quite sure as to its whereabouts. Besides, you’ll have to stick by the excursionists if you wish to return to Batavia.”
Captain Roy paused for a moment to recover breath, and looking down upon the dense tropical forest that stretched between him and the Peak of Rakata, he shook his head, and admitted that the merchant was right. Turning round he addressed himself once more to the ascent of the cone, on the sides of which the whole excursion party now straggled and struggled, remarking, as he panted along, that hill-climbing among ashes and cinders didn’t “come easy to a sea-farin’ man.”
Now, nothing was more natural than that Van der Kemp and his guest should be smitten with the same sort of desire which had brought these excursionists from Batavia. The only thing that we do not pretend to account for is the strange coincidence that they should have been so smitten, and had so arranged their plans, that they arrived at Perboewatan almost at the same time with the excursionists—only about half an hour before them!
Their
See