a mountain--the starting of an avalanche. And as the
ash and cinder, with the vitrified blocks of stone, lay loose on the
mighty slope, they felt that it was quite possible for the firing of the
gun to have caused an avalanche of another kind.

In a few seconds they knew that this was the case, for the whispering
rapidly increased into a loud rustling, which soon became a rush, and
directly after increased to a roar; and now, for the first time, they
began to realise how vast the mountain was in its height and extent, for
the rushing sound went on and on, gathering in force, and at last Drew
exclaimed, as he gazed upward at an indistinct mist apparently
travelling down towards them,--

"Come on; we shall be swept away."

"No, no," cried Panton and Oliver, almost in a breath; "We may be as
safe here as anywhere. Perhaps we should rush into more danger."

And now the warm, ruddy glow of the setting sun was obscured by rising
clouds, which they at once grasped were dust; a semi-darkness came on,
and through this they had a glimpse of the mountain-side all in motion
and threatening to overwhelm them where they stood.

It was hard work to master the feeling of panic which impelled them to
run for their lives, but fortunately they had strength of mind enough to
stand fast while the tumult increased, and, joining hands, they kept
their places with hearts throbbing, half-suffocated by the dust which
now shut them in, while, with a furious roar, the avalanche of cinder,
stones, and ashes swept by, not twenty yards from where they stood, and
subsided amidst the cracking of boughs and tearing up of trees at the
edge of the forest.

It was like the dying sighs of some monster, the sound they heard
directly after growing fainter and fainter, till there was the mere
whisper made by trickling ashes, then even that subsided, and they stood
in a cloud of dust, listening while it slowly rolled away. At last, as
they gazed downward, there, below them, to the right, was a huge opening
torn into the forest, with broken limbs, prostrate trunks, and great
mop-like roots standing up out from a slope of grey cinders and calcined
stones.

"What an escape," muttered Oliver. "Warning: we must not fire again
near the mountain."

"Hark!" cried Panton. "There it is again."

For, from a distance, came a long, low, mournful shout, and directly
after it was repeated, and they made out that it was the familiar
sea-going _Ahoy_.

"It's