It was about four o'clock in the afternoon when we began to draw near
the Vermilion Pit which Leith had mentioned when he had urged haste at
the midday luncheon. The surroundings became more strange and mysterious
with each step we took. The basalt peaks that we had noticed from the
deck of _The Waif_ were now quite close to us, and they seemed to move
in upon us from both sides. The trees and lianas became less numerous,
and the black rocks came toward us in a sinister manner that conjured up
thoughts of a dead something toward which the encircling ridges were
guiding us like the arms of a corral. The place was fear-inspiring. It
had the unearthly appearance that made the imaginative minds of the
ancients people the silent woods with devils and dryads. The soft
moaning of the Pacific was barred out by the leafy barriers, and we
walked in a silence that was tremendous. The ticking of our watches
sounded to our strained ears like the blows of a hammer, and once, when
the Professor sneezed mightily, Miss Barbara gave a scream of fear
before she realized what had caused the noise.

The ascent became still more difficult. The natives puffed under their
loads, and Holman rushed angrily to the front and demanded a halt on
behalf of the girls struggling in the rear. During the few minutes that
Leith grudgingly allowed them in which to recover their breath, the
youngster hurried up to the spot where I was busy fixing the loads of
the natives, and in a nervous whisper he asked my opinion of the route.

"Where the dickens are we going?" he cried.

"This is the most eerie-looking patch of country that I have ever seen
in my life."