“Wonderful geological formation!” he chattered.  “My friend Professor Hanlaw of Oakland would enjoy a glimpse of this spot.  A geologist could spend a lifetime here.”

Leith’s sallow face was disturbed by a grin as he listened to the old science-crazed ancient disbursing information regarding the formation of the rock.  It troubled me little at that moment whether feldspar and augite were the two largest components, and I knew that Holman and the two girls were not interested.  We knew that the place was ugly and sinister, but feldspar and augite didn’t give it that look.

The height of the walls increased as we advanced.  We were in a narrow roadway scarcely more than twelve feet across, while on each side rose the nearly perpendicular rocks that blocked our view of the country immediately beyond.  The ground beneath our feet was covered with small bits of lava from the crevices of which the moist flabby leaves of the nupu plant stuck up like fat green fingers.

As we stared ahead we noted that the road seemed to dip suddenly as if the highest point of the island was reached at that spot, and the prospects of a walk upon a down grade were cheering after the stiff climbs.  As we neared the place, Soma, who was walking about ten paces in front of the carriers, slackened speed, and the islanders dropped back till Leith and the Professor led the procession.

Leith halted and beckoned to the two girls and Holman, who were some distance in the rear.  “Hurry up!” he cried.  “You’ll get the sight of your lives in a few moments.”

“What is it?” gurgled the Professor.

Leith grinned as the scientist dipped his lead pencil into his open mouth so that he would be able to dab down first impressions the moment he turned his thick lenses upon the wonders.

“You’ll see in a moment,” replied the big brute, as he walked slowly forward, and just as he spoke, we did see.

A ridge of bright vermilion came up suddenly about one hundred feet from the point where the road seemed to dip, and we walked forward wondering what lay between the spot where the track ended and the bright barrier of rock that appeared to rise higher as we approached the end of the trail.  We seemed to sense the approach of something that chilled and yet attracted.  The place possessed a devilish fascination.  It seemed to repel with its very uncanniness, and yet I was aware that I was imitating Holman in thrusting forward my head in an endeavour to see what filled the space that was hidden from our eyes.

The desire was soon satisfied.  Fifteen paces brought us to a point that left the strange curiosity naked to our eyes.  The vermilion walls, thirty yards in front of us, formed part of the sides of an enormous circular crater, and we stood spellbound as we pulled up within a few feet of the ledge and looked into the fearsome depths beneath.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” drawled Leith, looking around at us with the air of a cheap showman springing a novelty upon a gaping mob, “you are on the edge of the Vermilion Pit, the greatest wonder between Penang and the Paumotus.”