othes, all our
personal belongings, were left behind us on the beach. For after once we
had topped the cliff that led over to the cove, I doubt if any
consideration on earth would have induced us to return to that accursed
place.

The row out to the ship was wet and dangerous. Seismic disturbances were
undoubtedly responsible for high pyramidic waves that lifted and fell
without onward movement. We fairly tumbled up out of the dory, which we
did not hoist on deck, but left at the end of the painter to beat her
sides against the ship.

XVII

THE OPEN SEA

Our haste, however, availed us little, for there was no wind at all. We
lay for over two hours under the weird light, over-canopied by the red-
brown cloud, while the explosions shook the foundations of the world.
Nobody ventured below. The sails flapped idly from the masts: the blocks
and spars creaked: the three-cornered waves rose straight up and fell
again as though reaching from the deep.

When the men first began to sweat the sails up, evidently in preparation
for an immediate departure, I objected vehemently.

"You aren't going to leave him on the island," I cried. "He'll die of
starvation."

They did not answer me; but after a little more, when my expostulations
had become more positive, Handy Solomon dropped the halliard, and drew me
to one side.

"Look here, you," he snarled, "you'd better just stow your gab. You're
lucky to be here yourself, let alone botherin' your thick head about
anybody else, and you can kiss the Book on that! Do you know why you ain't
with them carrion?" He jerked his thumb toward the beach. "It's because
Solomon Anderson's your friend. Thrackles would have killed you in a
minute 'count of his bit hand. I got you your chance. Now don't you be a
fool, for I ain't goin' to stand between you and them another time.
Besides, he won't last long if that volcano keeps at it."

He left me. Whatever truth lay in his assumption of friendship, and I
doubted there existed much of either truth or friendship in him, I saw the
common sense of his advice. I was in no position to dictate a course of
action.

After the sails were on her we gathered at the starboard rail to watch the
shore. There the hills ran into inky blackness, as the horizon sometimes
merges into a thunder squall. A dense white steam came from the creek bed
within the arroyo. The surges beat on the shore louder than the ordinary,
and the foam, even in these day hou