The appearance of gayety which Barbara Herndon had tried to assume after
we had left the Vermilion Pit had passed away, and once again there was
the look of pathetic helplessness upon the faces of the two girls.
During the luncheon Holman and I endeavoured to make conversation, but
the thoughts of both were upon their surroundings, and they answered
questions with an effort. The prison-like appearance of the valley, and
the utter absence of sound, both of bird and insect life, had a
depressing effect upon their nerves.

Holman's face showed that the mental sufferings of the two sisters had
worked him into a decidedly unfriendly state of mind toward the
Professor and the big brute who was leading the old scientist on the mad
hunt, and another quarrel was barely averted during the early afternoon.
Leith suggested that Edith Herndon should walk beside him so that he
might assist her over the rough parts of the way, and in the
conversation that ensued the youngster asserted that the girl was in
better company when she was walking with her sister and himself. Leith's
voice rose to a roar as he made another threat regarding what he would
do if the youngster did not hold his tongue, but Holman was defiant, and
an immediate conflict was only averted by the tact of Edith Herndon.

The afternoon closed in with us still tramping on. The blood-red sun
slipped hurriedly toward the basalt barriers that encircled the valley,
and as I glanced at the cliffs the picture of the creepy ledge, that was
our only way back to the outer world, was continually in my mind. The
knowledge that the velvety polish upon the block of porphyry was brought
there by the hands of thousands who had once peopled the island or
visited it from the adjacent groups was not provocative of mirth, and I
knew that the feeling that they were journeying in a place that had been
of special veneration in long past centuries was producing a depressing