As soon as day broke, Tolta recommenced his march. The route was difficult, but he hoped to reach Pohaku’s fortress the coming night. They had camped well up Mauna Kea, and as the sun slowly lighted the landscape, sending his rays into the depths of that mysterious space which lay between them and Mauna Loa, it disclosed a scene that might literally be taken for the valley of the shadow of death.

Its mean elevation above the sea was about four thousand feet, gradually rising as it approaches the mountains on either side. Numerous streams of lava, now black and vitreous, and of great extent, having their source in the huge volcano opposite, glistened in the morning sun. Several of these lay in their direction, and they would be obliged to make their way as they best could over their jagged and distorted surfaces. At the distance they were from them, they looked like cataracts of ink. Amid them, and scattered thickly over the plain, were small conical craters, regular in shape, and composed of clay and ashes. These gave to the region the appearance of being pock-marked on a leviathan scale. Whirlwinds swept frequently over the plain, taking up high into the air columns of fine sand, and dispersing it with furious and blinding gusts. There was neither water nor vegetation, except in the immediate vicinity of Mauna Kea, or a long way to the eastward. In their rear, but far above, was perpetual snow, though not in sufficient masses to make a conspicuous land-mark. Immediately beneath them were piles of basaltic rocks and loose stones, thrown together in abrupt heaps on slippery beds of gravel, with now and then soil enough to grow coarse grasses, and stunted cassia trees, whose yellow blossoms were the sole bits of bright color permitted by nature to enliven the general dreariness. Far away to the left the horizon was lined with forests, that rose on its verge like great green billows. Before them, somewhat to the right, was the gigantic outline of the lofty crater of Mauna Loa, whose immense base occupied nearly one third of the island, rising so gradually to its summit, as to appear in the distance like a huge dome, up whose sides a carriage might easily be drawn. The vast scale of its desolation may be judged of from its having on its summit, as already remarked, an active crater of nearly thirty miles in circuit.

As Tolta turned his eyes towards this mountain, he saw the bright red spot that had glowed so fiery in his late vision was not without foundation in fact. The edge of the crater was to be clearly seen with not much more than its usual volume of smoke. At some distance below, however, there was a great rent in the mountain, out of which poured a stream of melted lava, rapidly making its way in an oblique direction between them and Kilauea.

His warriors saw it at the same time, and comprehending from their long experience in this region, the necessity of despatch, if they would not be cut off from the territories of Pohaku beyond, they set forward on their march at the top of their speed.

In compliance with his resolution of the previous night, to regain if possible the confidence of his captive, Tolta approached Olmedo and said, “We have far to go to-day. Forget my words of yesterday; I was angered to see the white priest embrace Beatriz. Had you remained where you were, you would have both been slain. More I cannot now say; but with Tolta you are safe, he will restore you to your homes when the storm is over. Confide in him. You are now free to talk with your daughter; but be cautious before your guards, for though they serve me well now, it is at the bidding of a greater chief than Kiana.”

This artful speech confused Olmedo. He distrusted Tolta; but he knew enough of the artifice of Indian character, not to give himself blindly to the Mexican, and at the same time not to reject him outright; for whatever might be his motives, on him alone to all appearance depended the fate of Beatriz. Besides, he saw that he had him at disadvantage, from having witnessed his interview with her. This gave the wily Aztec an opportunity of injuring both in their most sensitive points, for he had learned enough of the sacred responsibility of a Catholic confessor to his female flock, to see at once his power over the priest. Whatever else Juan might forgive, he would be relentless towards the dishonorer of his sister.

Olmedo, therefore, coolly thanked Tolta, saying, “I trust, my son, no injury will befall us or our friends. Why not seek Juan? He is needed more than either of us to protect his sister, if there be the danger you imply?”

“Ask no questions now, priest. Later you will know all; Juan will be with you soon. I have provided also for him. He would have been here now, had he not been absent yesterday from his house. Go and aid Beatriz. Inspire her with courage. You will have need of all your forces this day. See how that lava gains upon the plain below us,” and Tolta pointed to its red current which was rapidly flowing towards their intended track.

Olmedo parleyed no longer with the Mexican, but hastened to Beatriz, and related their brief conversation. “I much fear he is false to us all,” added he, “but we have no alternative now but to follow his directions. We shall have enough to do to-day, to contend with the obstacles in nature that threaten us, for it is plain that he fears more the dangers behind him, than those in front. He will not retrace his steps,—we must trust in God and go on.”

The voice of Olmedo was soothing to Beatriz, and with his presence she forgot her fears. Her anxiety for Juan was almost lost in her present joy in finding Olmedo free to be by her side, and she looked forward hopefully to meeting her brother as Tolta had promised. “I am strong, Olmedo, thanks to my rough journeys with the army. Never fear for me. Be Tolta true or false, our fates are bound up together, and the Holy Virgin will protect us;” and she smiled so trustingly upon him, that he felt she was indeed protected by the Mother of God.

They had little opportunity to talk, because the way was so rough as to require constant care and great exertion to prevent the warriors who bore the “manele” from falling. As their own lives were to be the forfeit should harm befall their prisoners before they were delivered to Pohaku, they were most cautious to preserve them from injury from the stones which frequently came rolling down the mountain, set in motion by the haste with which they clambered over them. Their activity, however, prevented any accident, and in a few hours they arrived at the less rugged plain, where they halted near a spring of water, from which they replenished their stock, as it was the last they could hope to fall in with during the day.

But little rest was allowed. Tolta was afraid of pursuit, while his men were even more fearful of the volcanic eruption. The immediate outbreak was now hid from them by an intervening ridge, but the smoke and explosions continued to increase very perceptibly. Their course was for the present more rapid, as it was on comparatively level ground. The soil being of loose ashes, was, however, fatiguing to the step, except where the smooth lava rock cropped out. Over that they could go at a quick pace, and thus make up for their previous slower progress. Such scanty vegetation as this district afforded was soon passed, and they came upon the region of dead streams of lava, emphatically known as clinkers. Some of them were several miles in width, and tried the endurance of the party greatly. As it was impossible to carry Beatriz farther on the “manele,” it was abandoned. They had now to climb over huge fragments of lava, of obsidian hardness, and as sharp and brittle as glass, continually breaking into minute pieces that frequently cut through their sandals, and wounded their feet, so that their course might have been tracked for some distance by blood. Tolta had provided against this contingency by spare sandals, otherwise his expedition would have been crippled midway—equally unable to advance or retreat. Olmedo lifted Beatriz over the roughest passages, assisted by the stoutest warriors, who, on several occasions, caught him and his burden just in time to save them from severe bruises. None escaped some injuries, for it was often necessary to crawl for short distances over steep masses so slippery and friable, as to cause many a slide and fracture, ending in cut limbs. Imagine all the slag from all the forges and glass factories, that have ever existed, thrown confusedly on the ground, in pieces from the size of hillocks to that of peas, shivered into every variety of pointed and cragged fragments, and an idea of the highway over which they were now making their way may be formed.

To add to their delays it began to rain, and by the time they had got to the smoother ground beyond, a fog set in, so dense as to obscure the landmarks by which they had hitherto been guided. The oldest warriors were now at fault. After wandering for some time at random, the fruitlessness of such exertions compelled them to stop. So many hours had been consumed in disentangling themselves from the clinkers, that it was nigh dark. There was no remedy but to seek the best camping spot the locality offered. Tolta ordered several couples of the men to explore about them in different directions, keeping within hail of the main party. In a half hour they returned, and reported having found a cave on the edge of a dwarf Ohia wood. To this they went, and with a fire made themselves tolerably comfortable. With the refinement, in which the Aztec nobility were bred, Tolta screened a portion of the cave for the sole use of Beatriz, and with tapa mantles made for her not an unwelcome retreat from the storm without and the rude men within. Olmedo was permitted to remain near by, but Tolta kept beside him. The rain poured in torrents and made its way through the roof, wetting the floor, while the smoke from the fire with difficulty escaped into the open air. Yet, amid all this discomfort, Olmedo offered up his evening prayer, Beatriz joining in the usual hymn, with a voice that seemed to the stilled warriors to come from another world, so melodious was it even to their dull ears, in contrast with the barbarous chants of their own women.

The captives found it difficult to sleep in the confined air of the cave, which grew more hot and stifling as the fire died out. Occasionally fatigue overpowered them and they dozed; but they were oftener awake, from a restlessness they could not account for, and which kept their senses in that dreamy, vague condition, which neither admits of perfect consciousness nor salutary rest. At intervals a hoarse blast, and a dull heavy roar, like the sudden escape of vast volumes of ignited gases, startled their ears. Several times the cave trembled as if in an ague fit; once so violently that a loosened rock fell near the guards and caused them all to start up. For a few seconds they staggered like sea-sick men, but recognizing the breathings of the volcano, with which they were familiar, they merely ejaculated, “Pele is sporting to-night in the fire-surf,” and laid themselves down again to sleep.

At the earliest light all were on foot for a fresh start. The rain had ceased, but the atmosphere was lurid and heavy, and respiration more or less difficult. They found themselves upon a knoll of considerable dimensions, lightly wooded, and surrounded by a sea of lava, over which they could not see far on account of the smoke and steam arising from it in all directions. During the night a fresh flow had spread itself over the clinkers they had passed the day before. It was now so hot and vaporous as to cut off all retreat in that direction.

As the wind at times dispersed the smoke, they caught glimpses of the fountain-head of the stream, apparently some fifteen miles from them, and about half way up the mountain. It was not a violent eruption, but poured out at short intervals, with roarings and tremblings of the earth, huge masses of molten rock of the hue of blood, which descended rapidly towards them. In spots it suddenly disappeared, emerging at some distance, and continuing its course with renewed rapidity. This was caused by its meeting with an obstacle it had not sufficient volume to overwhelm, but was driven to eat its way underground, forming galleries, which, when cooled and emptied of the lava, leave caves sometimes of great extent and intricacy. This alternate appearing and disappearing of the crimson fluid amid the surrounding blackness, gave it the look of the glaring eyes of huge basilisks watching in desert caverns for their prey. At times it leaped precipices with a furious, fiery plunge, scattering its hot spray on all sides, rock and forest alike recoiling from its destructive touch, shivering into a thousand fragments, or melting with the fervent heat, and swelling the consuming tide.

The progress of the torrent towards them was so rapid, as to leave but little time for reflection. It was gradually rising all around, and threatened to submerge the knoll, which as yet had escaped. Many of the trees on its skirts had already been crisped and blackened with the heat; some had fallen, the trunks being burned off near the ground, while the branches lay unconsumed, on the lava stream, which cools and hardens very rapidly, presenting a surface often sufficiently strong to bear a man’s weight, even while the crimson current is flowing underneath. This fact was suggested to Tolta by his men as the most likely means of escape. Indeed none other seemed to offer.

Accordingly, they sought the stream in the direction in which it was narrowest and firmest. Ten of the warriors spread themselves out in the form of a fan, sounding their way with their spears as if on ice, for fear of air-holes, and to test the strength of its surface. The remainder of the party followed, more or less apart, with great caution, holding their breaths to lighten their weights. Their feet were protected by rough sandals, and bits of wood strapped to them, from the lava, which was in spots still so warm as frequently to raise blisters. Where it had suddenly cooled it had split up into deep chasms, raised cones, and twisted and cracked into every variety of shape. It was therefore with the greatest difficulty that any progress could be made. They persevered, however, when a sudden crack was heard, and at the same instant a shriek of agony. The foremost of the warriors had trodden upon the thin crust where it had been puffed up by the air, and, being as brittle as glass, it had broken and let him down into the liquid lava beneath.

Appalled by his fate, the whole party halted. To go on was impossible, as it was evident they had reached the extreme verge of solid lava. All beyond was either fluid, or so densely covered with sulphurous vapor, that it was sure death to advance. They retraced their steps without a minute’s delay, and it was none too soon. A fresh wave of lava was fast descending towards them, and setting the crust on which they were all in motion. Suddenly a vein of red lava showed itself in a narrow chasm, over which several of the warriors had already leaped. At the same moment, detonating gases were heard near by, and then louder explosions, from which the air was fast becoming impregnated with deadly vapors. Beatriz, sinking from their suffocating effects, faintly said to Olmedo, “My father, I can go no farther,—my strength is all gone.”

He had been sustaining her for some time past, and felt himself scarcely stronger, but roused by her danger he seized her in his arms and was about to leap the fiery chasm, when he stumbled and partially fell, with both their weights overhanging its brink. Quicker than thought the men nearest seized them, and, before a word could be uttered, by a violent effort they had cleared the chasm, but not before all were slightly scorched by the heat which flickered above it. They had scarcely time to leave the spot before it discharged a stream of viscid lava, which pursued them coiling and twisting after their footsteps like a wounded snake. As it was an easy matter to outrun this, they soon got back to the knoll, which now rose like an island above the molten flood.