ave been there when he ascended, but had opened during the fresh
eruption in which he had so nearly been overwhelmed.

At last, when his sufferings from the heat were growing unbearable, and
his head swam with the giddy sensation which supervened, the rift
appeared to close in about fifty yards further on. He sheltered his
swimming eyes, and endeavoured to steady himself, as, with sinking
heart, he tried to make out whether this really were so, or only fancy.
But it seemed to be fact, and, pressing cautiously on, he lessened the
distance, and then stopped appalled, shrinkingly facing a way of escape
to the lower part of the mountain, but one terrible enough to make the
stoutest-hearted shiver. For the chasm came to a sudden end, and
recommenced two or three yards farther on, leaving a jagged, narrow
strip of lava extending bridge-like from side to side.

"I dare not," he muttered, as he approached slowly, noting the shape,
and trying to make out how far down the mass of rock extended, so as to
see whether it would prove firm, or only be a crust which might give way
beneath his weight, and then--He shuddered, for he knew that whoever
ventured upon that narrow pathway did so facing a terrible death.

He looked wildly forward to see if the gap still went on to any
distance, and he could trace it till it was lost in a hot haze.

"I must do it," muttered Lane, for he felt that if he kept on longer
upon the upper edge, he must soon sink and perish from heat and
exhaustion.

Knowing that if he stopped to think, he would grow less and less
disposed to venture, and taking one long eager look at the green trees
far below in the distance where there would be shelter and refreshing
water, he gathered himself together, and walked slowly and steadily over
the yielding ash and cinders to the beginning of the bridge.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

THE DESCENT.

Hope came with the first step, for it was upon hard slippery rock, and
gathering courage from this, the young naturalist kept one foot firm,
and stamped with the other to try whether the rock was brittle and
likely to give way.

But it seemed firm, and fixing his eyes upon the other side, Oliver drew
himself up erect and walked boldly on to the narrow bridge, profoundly
conscious of the fact that there, on either side where he dare not look,
the walls went down almost perpendicularly into a gulf too awful to
ponder on, even for a moment.

Onward slowly, step by step, with