ble Lares
and Penates, in fact all their belongings, were loaded into the
fishing-smacks, and the entire colony sought refuge in Southhampton
Harbor.

The news that a volcano, that had presumably been smouldering for
centuries at the western extremity of the group, showed signs of
breaking out again, caused a sensation throughout the Bermudas. But
while some were terrified, the curiosity of others was aroused, mine
included. The phenomenon was worth investigation, even if the simple
fisher-folk had exaggerated.

Back Cup, which, as already stated, lies at the western extremity of
the archipelago, is connected therewith by a chain of small islets
and reefs, which cannot be approached from the east. Being only three
hundred feet in altitude, it cannot be seen either from St. George or
Hamilton. I joined a party of explorers and we embarked in a cutter
that landed us on the island, and made our way to the abandoned
village of the Bermudan fishers.

The internal crackings and detonations could be plainly heard, and a
sheaf of smoke was swayed by the wind at the summit.

Beyond a peradventure the ancient volcano had been started again
by the subterranean fire, and an eruption at any moment was to be
apprehended.

In vain we attempted to climb to the mouth of the crater. The mountain
sheered down at an angle of from seventy-five to eighty degrees, and
its smooth, slippery sides afforded absolutely no foothold. Anything
more barren than this rocky freak of nature it would be difficult to
conceive. Only a few tufts of wild herbs were to be seen upon the
whole island, and these seemed to have no _raison d'etre_.

Our explorations were therefore necessarily limited, and in view of
the active symptoms of danger that manifested themselves, we could but
approve the action of the villagers in abandoning the place; for we
entertained no doubt that its destruction was imminent.

These were the circumstances in which I was led to visit Back Cup, and
no one will consequently be surprised at the fact that I recognized it
immediately we hove in sight of the queer structure.

No, I repeat, the Count d'Artigas would probably not be overpleased
if he were aware that Warder Gaydon is perfectly acquainted with this
islet, even if the _Ebba_ was to anchor there--which, as there is no
port, is, to say the least, extremely improbable.

As we draw nearer, I attentively examine Back Cup. Not one of
its former inhabitants has been induced