“How does it look ahead, now, Mr. Hazard?” demanded Roswell, about five in the afternoon, just as his schooner was coming close under the smoking sides of the volcano, which had always been an object of interest to him, though he had never found time to visit it before.  “Is there no danger of our touching the ground, close in as we are to this island?”

“I think not, sir; when I landed here, we kept the lead going the whole time, and we got two fathoms quite up to the, shore.  In my judgment, Captain Gar’ner, we may run down along this land as bold as lions.”

“And how does it look ahead?  I’ve no wish to get jammed here, close aboard of a volcano, which may be choking us all with its smoke before we know where we are.”

“Not much danger of that, sir, with this wind.  These volcanoes are nothin’ but playthings, a’ter all.  The vapour is driving off towards the north-east—–­That was a crack, with a vengeance!”

Just as Hazard was boasting of the innocuous character of a volcano, that near them fired a gun, as the men afterwards called it, casting into the air a large flight of cinders and stones, accompanied by a sharp flash of flame.  All the lighter materials drove away to leeward, but the heavier followed the law of projectiles, and scattered in all directions.  Several stones of some size fell quite close to the schooner, and a few smaller actually came down on her decks.

“It will never do to stop here to boil our pot,” cried Roswell to the mate.  “We must get away from this, Mr. Hazard, as fast as the good craft can travel!”

“Get away it is, sir.  There is nothing very near ahead to stop us; though it does look more toward the east cape as if the field was jammed in that quarter.”

“Keep all your eyes about you, sir; and look out especially for any opening among the smaller islands ahead.  I am not without hope that the currents which run among them may give us a clear passage in that quarter.”

These words explain precisely that which did actually occur.  On went the schooner, almost brushing the base of the volcano, causing Roswell many a bound of the heart, when he fancied she must strike; but she went clear.  All this time, it was crack, crack, crack, from the crater, rumbling sounds and heavy explosions; the last attended by flames, and smoke of a pitchy darkness.  A dozen times the Sea Lion had very narrow escapes when nearest to the danger, stones of a weight to pass through her decks and bottom falling even on the ice outside of her; but that hand which had so benevolently stayed various other evils, was stretched forth to save, and nothing touched the schooner of a size to do any injury.  These escapes made a deep impression on Roswell.  Until the past winter he had been accustomed to look upon things and events as matters of course.  This vacant indifference, so common to men in prosperity, was extended even to the sublimest exhibition of the