moment that if there was anything he would never want to do it was to be a volcanologist
The fumes were stifling. If he only had a gas mask! He was being cooked by the rising heat. Luckily there were strong air currents so that occasionally the heat and gas and smoke were carried away from him and then he could take in deep breaths of almost pure air. He made a practice of holding his breath until these moments came.
His feet struck the ledge. Now he was standing on the rocky shelf. He got down on his hands and knees and crept to the edge. The roof of the bell was caught firmly under the rim.
Roger looked up. He could see the Japanese peering down. He signalled for the bell to be lowered. There was a moment’s delay, then the bell eased down an inch or two.
Roger lay flat on the shelf, his head and shoulders over the edge. He could reach the roof of the bell. He signalled for the bell to be raised. Up it came, slowly. Roger, with his hands on the rim of the roof, pushed with all his strength. The bell cleared the ledge with an inch to spare and continued its ascent. As it went by, two grinning feces looked out to the boy on the ledge.
Roger was hauled up and arrived at the top a moment after the bell had landed. Dr Dan and Hal were released from their gassy prison. They were very happy, though dizzy and faint from the effects of the gas.
Hal looked proudly at his younger brother. ‘Good work,’ he said, and put his arm about the boy’s shoulders. Mr Sanada burst in with:
‘How fortunate we had a good man to send down after you! Remarkable - so young, and yet he’s made such a study of volcanology, visited so many craters - he was telling us about it.’
Dr Dan looked at Roger and chuckled. Roger blushed to the roots of his hair. What would the doctor think of him? He waited for Dr Dan to tell Sanada just how much he really knew about craters.
He glanced up. But there was no sarcasm on the doctor’s face, only a friendly smile, and all he told Mr Sanada was:
‘Roger is a good volcano man.’
Chapter 8
The boiling lakes
The good ship Lively Lady sailed west.
Behind loomed a volcano sending up a mile-high column of rose-and-blue smoke. It was Mihara, into which Dr Dan and Hal had descended in the diving bell.
Ahead lay more volcanoes. Hal and Roger were not anxious to get to them too soon.
Their adventures on and in Mihara had tired them and they were glad to lie on the deck in the sun. They felt at home. How good it was to be in the arms of the Lively Lady once more.
It seemed a long time since they had set out from San Francisco in this gallant little sixty-foot, Marconi-rigged sailing schooner to capture creatures of the deep sea for their animal-collector father.
They had learned much about the Pacific and what goes on beneath its waves. They had found Captain Ike Flint a fine captain and a good friend. Now the ship had been chartered by the American Museum of Natural History for its study of Pacific volcanoes. But Captain Ike remained as master while Hal, Roger and their Polynesian friend, Omo, had been kept along with the ship. Dr Dan Adams believed that though they knew nothing
about volcanoes they were strong in body and brain and would be quick to learn.
Hal, as he stretched out wearily in the soft sunlight, hoped the doctor had not been disappointed.
He would have been encouraged if he could have heard the conversation up forward between Dr Dan and Captain Ike.
‘They’re tough,’ the doctor was saying. ‘Hal insisted on going down in the bell with me. When we got stuck, the kid came down at the end of a rope and pushed us off.’
Leather-faced little old Captain Ike chewed the stem of his pipe. ‘I’m not surprised,’ he said. ‘After the things I’ve seen them do, diving for shark and octopus and such, I wouldn’t expect them to be scared by a bit o’ smoke and gas.’
Dr Dan smiled. ‘Captain, have you ever looked down into a crater?’
‘Can’t rightly say I
The fumes were stifling. If he only had a gas mask! He was being cooked by the rising heat. Luckily there were strong air currents so that occasionally the heat and gas and smoke were carried away from him and then he could take in deep breaths of almost pure air. He made a practice of holding his breath until these moments came.
His feet struck the ledge. Now he was standing on the rocky shelf. He got down on his hands and knees and crept to the edge. The roof of the bell was caught firmly under the rim.
Roger looked up. He could see the Japanese peering down. He signalled for the bell to be lowered. There was a moment’s delay, then the bell eased down an inch or two.
Roger lay flat on the shelf, his head and shoulders over the edge. He could reach the roof of the bell. He signalled for the bell to be raised. Up it came, slowly. Roger, with his hands on the rim of the roof, pushed with all his strength. The bell cleared the ledge with an inch to spare and continued its ascent. As it went by, two grinning feces looked out to the boy on the ledge.
Roger was hauled up and arrived at the top a moment after the bell had landed. Dr Dan and Hal were released from their gassy prison. They were very happy, though dizzy and faint from the effects of the gas.
Hal looked proudly at his younger brother. ‘Good work,’ he said, and put his arm about the boy’s shoulders. Mr Sanada burst in with:
‘How fortunate we had a good man to send down after you! Remarkable - so young, and yet he’s made such a study of volcanology, visited so many craters - he was telling us about it.’
Dr Dan looked at Roger and chuckled. Roger blushed to the roots of his hair. What would the doctor think of him? He waited for Dr Dan to tell Sanada just how much he really knew about craters.
He glanced up. But there was no sarcasm on the doctor’s face, only a friendly smile, and all he told Mr Sanada was:
‘Roger is a good volcano man.’
Chapter 8
The boiling lakes
The good ship Lively Lady sailed west.
Behind loomed a volcano sending up a mile-high column of rose-and-blue smoke. It was Mihara, into which Dr Dan and Hal had descended in the diving bell.
Ahead lay more volcanoes. Hal and Roger were not anxious to get to them too soon.
Their adventures on and in Mihara had tired them and they were glad to lie on the deck in the sun. They felt at home. How good it was to be in the arms of the Lively Lady once more.
It seemed a long time since they had set out from San Francisco in this gallant little sixty-foot, Marconi-rigged sailing schooner to capture creatures of the deep sea for their animal-collector father.
They had learned much about the Pacific and what goes on beneath its waves. They had found Captain Ike Flint a fine captain and a good friend. Now the ship had been chartered by the American Museum of Natural History for its study of Pacific volcanoes. But Captain Ike remained as master while Hal, Roger and their Polynesian friend, Omo, had been kept along with the ship. Dr Dan Adams believed that though they knew nothing
about volcanoes they were strong in body and brain and would be quick to learn.
Hal, as he stretched out wearily in the soft sunlight, hoped the doctor had not been disappointed.
He would have been encouraged if he could have heard the conversation up forward between Dr Dan and Captain Ike.
‘They’re tough,’ the doctor was saying. ‘Hal insisted on going down in the bell with me. When we got stuck, the kid came down at the end of a rope and pushed us off.’
Leather-faced little old Captain Ike chewed the stem of his pipe. ‘I’m not surprised,’ he said. ‘After the things I’ve seen them do, diving for shark and octopus and such, I wouldn’t expect them to be scared by a bit o’ smoke and gas.’
Dr Dan smiled. ‘Captain, have you ever looked down into a crater?’
‘Can’t rightly say I
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