“Come on. Hurry up,” urged Ned, as Herc came out of a store where he had purchased a long coil of rope. The rope was to be used to restrain the pernicious activities of Blue Lightning, for the boys were rather afraid that he might get them into trouble if they did not confine him in some way. “Hurry up where?”
“I’ve got a plan in my head.”
“What is it?”
“There’s no sense in our hanging about this hot town which, so far as I can see, is very much like any other town.”
“I agree with you, Ned. What’s your idea?”
“We ought to take a look at that volcano while we are here. They say the crater is wonderful. The Hawaiian word for it is ‘Sea of Fire.’”
[196]
“Humph! What guarantee have we that the thing won’t blow up while we’re there?”
“That’s very unlikely to happen. We won’t be taking any more of a chance than the people who go to see Mount Vesuvius all the time.”
“How do we get up there?”
“We go by rail to a place called Glenwood, near the foot of the volcano.”
“And then?”
“I’ve been making inquiries. For a reasonable sum we can get ponies and a guide.”
“All right. Let’s start. I’m ready.”
A short trip on a wheezy train landed them in Glenwood and then the boys set off for the place where Ned had been told that guides could be procured. They soon found it and discovered that the men who made a business of taking parties up the volcano were not so moderate in their prices as Ned had been led to believe. However, they managed to strike a bargain with an old Kanaka named Okeechee and soon after they rode out of the town in high spirits.
[197]
Behind Herc’s pony trailed Blue Lightning. He was at first unwilling to accompany the tourists, but a few yanks on the long rope to which Herc had him hitched soon persuaded him to follow. The boys shouted greetings to pedestrians as they passed, in great good humor. They felt like two school boys off on a picnic.
The road soon began to climb the mountain side. It hung on the edge of the steep hills behind the town like an eyebrow. All sorts of luxuriant tropical fruits and flowers overhung the dizzy path. Below them was spread a magnificent panorama,—the American fleet at anchor in the bay with smoke lazily drifting from the banked fires. The flags made brilliant spots of color as ship signaled to ship along the line, transmitting the orders spelled out in bunting by the flag-ship.
“Doesn’t that make you proud you are an American, Herc?” asked Ned, pointing to the inspiring panorama of sea, sky and grim, drab fighting-ships.
[198]
“It makes me think I’m glad we don’t have to work for forty-eight hours,” rejoined Herc, thumping his pony with his heels.
Up and up they climbed till they surmounted that ridge. Then they dipped into a valley of rare beauty, above which towered the frowning sides of the smoking mountain in majestic splendor. As they descended the trail, they came upon an odd picture. In a patch below the road some native men and women, who had been working in a cocoanut grove, were seated on the ground eating out of gourd dishes a native food called poi.
“Hullo, there’s a picnic party!” cried Herc, as he saw the group, the women of which were begarlanded with flowers after the pretty custom of the South Seas.
Ned had not time to reply befo............