boiling water was rolling down from the Kotlugia yakul,
hurling ice-blocks before it, and sweeping farms, churches, cattle,
horses, and men, women, and children into the sea. Then this man also
put his heels to his horse and broke away, like one pursued by death
itself.

For some moments thereafter the people stood where the men had left
them, silent, helpless, unable to think or feel. Then there rose
from them all, as from one man, such a shriek of mortal agony as
never before came from human breasts. In their terror they ran hither
and thither, without thought or intention. They took to their tents,
they took to their ponies, they galloped north, they galloped south,
they galloped east, they galloped west, and then came scurrying back
to the Mount from which they had started. A great danger was about to
burst upon them, but they could not tell from what direction it would
come. Some remembered their homes and the wives and children they had
left there. Others thought only of themselves and of the fire and
water that were dealing out death.

In two minutes the Mount was a barren waste, the fissures on its
sides were empty, and the seats on the crags were bare. The Thing-men
and the clergy were rushing to and fro in the throng, and the old
Bishop and the Judge were seeking their horses.

Greeba stood, with fear on her face, by the side of Michael Sunlocks,
who, blind and maimed, unable to see what was going on about him,
not knowing yet where he was and what new evil threatened him,
looked like a man who might have been dead and was awakening to
consciousness in a world of the damned.

Two men, and two only, of all that vast multitude, kept their heads
and were cool through this mad panic. One of these was Jorgen
Jorgensen; the other was Red Jason. They watched each other
constantly, the one with the eyes of the lynx, the other with the
eyes of a lion.

A troop of men came riding through the throng from the direction of
the Chasm of Ravens. Twenty of them were the bodyguard of the
Governor, and they pushed their way to the feet of Jorgen Jorgensen.

"Your Excellency," said one of them, "we had news of you that you
would want us; so we made bold to come."

"You have come in time," said Jorgen Jorgensen, and his cruel eyes
flashed with the light of triumph.

"There has been a great eruption of Skaptar," said the man, "and the
people of the south are flocking into Reykjavik."

"Leave old Skaptar to take care o