throwing the revolver--and now
revolver and victim were both gone, and Ichi--Ichi was this lump at his
feet. Unconsciously, he strained his ears for Moto's death cry. But
the thunder that ascended from the depths drowned all other sounds.
This roar was swelling, swelling; it seemed to rock the world.

He felt sick. He squatted there in the entrance, beside Ichi's body,
his wide eyes fixed upon the dancing rim of the chasm. In his mind's
eye he could see Moto falling, falling down, down, down, past black,
slippery walls, down into the heart of that tremendous sound. But he
was too stunned by the awful noise to feel either glad or sorry. Only
horror, and a dumb wonder.

He thought, "This is death." Then, strangely, his mind inquired, "Why
the sound? What is it?" Once the query was put to himself, his mind
worked upon it quite independent of his will. It was a saving quest,
something to keep him sane, this groping for an explanation. He
watched the vapors. The windy cave seemed less dark, and the white
clouds poured upward and swirled about like dancing ghosts. The hot,
wet air beat upon him. He was half choked, and sopping wet. And the
noise grew and grew. It was like a thousand huge boilers all blowing
off at once.

Steam! The thought of boilers was the clue. He had it; he was sure he
was right. It was the roar of escaping steam far, far down in that
fearful hole. The vapors, the hot, wet wind--dead steam, half
condensed during its long rush upward. Down there in the bowels of the
mountain the sea seepage was being turned to steam. The live heart of
this old volcano was nothing else than a tremendous boiler, and this
chasm was the boiler's safety valve. But, God--how far down must be
the fires! Miles, perhaps. He wondered if Moto had yet reached bottom.

Gradually, he became conscious that the roar was diminishing, that the
vapors no longer gushed forth in such volume. He had lost track of
time; he felt he had always been sitting here by the edge of the pit;
he had forgotten all about the other Japs, all about the bosun and
Ruth. The noise had even driven Ruth from his conscious mind. But
now, with the lessening of the pressure against his ear drums, and the
end of the great humming inside his head, his apathy was gone. He
peered about him.

He looked out of the entrance, along the ledge. The two sailors still
clung to the lifeline; there was only air between them and the chasm,
and t