University of Virginia Library

11. CHAPTER XI.

It was again mid-summer ere Mark Woolston had his
boat ready for launching. He had taken things leisurely,
and completed his work in all its parts, before he thought
of putting the craft into the water. Afraid of worms, he
used some of the old copper on this boat, too; and he
painted her, inside and out, not only with fidelity, but with
taste. Although there was no one but Kitty to talk to, he
did not forget to paint the name which he had given to his
new vessel, in her stern-sheets, where he could always see
it. She was called the “Bridget Yardley;” and, notwithstanding
the unfavourable circumstances in which she had
been put together, Mark thought she did no discredit to
her beautiful namesake, when completed. When he had
everything finished, even to mast and sails, of the last of
which he fitted her with mainsail and jib, the young man
set about his preparations for getting his vessel afloat.

There was no process by which one man could move a
boat of the size of the Bridget, while out of its proper element,
but to launch it by means of regular ways. With a
view to this contingency, the keel had been laid between
the ways of the Neshamony, which were now all ready to
be used. Of course it was no great job to make a cradle
for a boat, and our boat-builder had `wedged up,' and got
the keel of his craft off the `blocks,' within eight-and-forty
hours after he had begun upon that part of his task. It
only remained to knock away the spur-shores and start
the boat. Until that instant, Mark had pursued his work
on the Bridget as mechanically and steadily as if hired by
the day. When, however, he perceived that he was so

near his goal, a flood of sensations came over the young
man, and his limbs trembled to a degree that compelled
him to be seated. Who could tell the consequences to
which that boat might lead? Who knew but the `Bridget'
might prove the means of carrying him to his own Bridget,
and restoring him to civilized life? At that instant, it
appeared to Mark as if his existence depended on the
launching of his boat, and he was fearful some unforeseen
accident might prevent it. He was obliged to wait several
minutes in order to recover his self-possession.

At length Mark succeeded in subduing this feeling, and
he resumed his work with most of his former self-command.
Everything being ready, he knocked away the spur-shores,
and, finding the boat did not start, he gave it a blow with
a mawl. This set the mass in motion, and the little craft
slid down the ways without any interruption, until it became
water-born, when it shot out from the Reef like a
duck. Mark was delighted with his new vessel, now that
it was fairly afloat, and saw that it sat on an even keel,
according to his best hopes. Of course he had not neglected
to secure it with a line, by which he hauled it in
towards the rock, securing it in a natural basin which was
just large enough for such a purpose. So great, indeed,
were his apprehensions of losing his boat, which now
seemed so precions to him, that he had worked some ringbolts
out of the ship and let them into the rock, where he
had secured them by means of melted lead, in order to
make fast to.

The Bridget was not more than a fourth of the size of
the Neshamony, though rather more than half as long.
Nevertheless, she was a good boat; and Mark, knowing
that he must depend on sails principally to more her, had
built a short deck forward to prevent the seas from breaking
aboard her, as well as to give him a place in which he
might stow away various articles, under cover from the
rain. Her ballast was breakers, filled with fresh water, of
which there still remained several in the ship. All these,
as well as her masts, sails, oars, &c., were in her when she
was launched; and that important event having taken
place early in the morning, Mark could not restrain his
impatience for a cruise, but determined to go out on the

reef at once, further than he had ever yet ventured in the
dingui, in order to explore the seas around him. Accordingly,
he put some food on board, loosened his fasts, and
made sail.

The instant the boat moved ahead, and began to obey
her helm, Mark felt as if he had found a new companion.
Hitherto Kitty had, in a measure, filled this place; but a
boat had been the young man's delight on the Delaware,
in his boyhood, and he had not tacked his present craft
more than two or three times, before he caught himself
talking to it, and commending it, as he would a human
being. As the wind usually blew in the same direction,
and generally a good stiff breeze, Mark beat up between
the Reef and Guano Island, working round the weather end
of the former, until he came out at the anchorage of the
Rancocus. After beating about in that basin a little while,
as if merely to show off the Bridget to the ship, Mark put
the former close by the wind, and stood off in the channel
by which he and Bob had brought the latter into her present
berth.

It was easy enough to avoid all such breakers as would
be dangerous to a boat, by simply keeping out of white
water; but the Bridget could pass over most of the reefs
with impunity, on account of the depth of the sea on them.
Mark beat up, on short tacks, therefore, until he found the
two buoys between which he had brought the ship, and
passing to windward of them, he stood off in the direction
where he expected to find the reef over which the Rancocus
had beaten. He was not long in making this discovery.
There still floated the buoy of the bower, watching
as faithfully as the seaman on his look-out! Mark ran the
boat up to this well-tried sentinel, and caught the lanyard,
holding on by it, after lowering his sails.

The boat was now moored by the buoy-rope of the ship's
anchor, and it occurred to our young man that a certain
use might be made of this melancholy memorial of the calamity
that had befallen the Rancocus. The anchor lay
quite near a reef, on it indeed in one sense; and it was in
such places that fish most abounded. Fishing-tackle was
in the boat, and Mark let down a line. His success was
prodigious. The fish were hauled in almost as fast as he

could bait and lower his hook, and what was more they
proved to be larger and finer than those taken at the old
fishing-grounds. By the experience of the half hour he
passed at the spot, Mark felt certain that he could fill his
boat there in a day's fishing. After hauling in some twenty
or thirty, however, he cast off from the lanyard, hoisted his
sails, and crossed the reef, still working to windward.

It was Mark's wish to learn something of the nature and
extent of the shoals in this direction. With this object in
view, he continued beating up, sometimes passing boldly
through shallow water, at others going about to avoid that
which he thought might be dangerous, until he believed
himself to be about ten miles to windward of the island.
The ship's masts were his beacon, for the crater had sunk
below the horizon, or if visible at all, it was only at intervals,
as the boat was lifted on a swell, when it appeared a
low hummock, nearly awash. It was with difficulty that
the naked spars could be seen at that distance; nor could
they be, except at moments, and that because the compass
told the young man exactly where to look for them.

As for the appearance of the reefs, no naked rock was
anywhere to be seen in this direction, though there were
abundant evidences of the existence of shoals. As well as
he could judge, Mark was of opinion that these shoals extended
at least twenty miles in this direction, he having
turned up fully five leagues without getting clear of them.
At that distance from his solitary home, and out of sight
of everything like land, did the young man eat his frugal,
but good and nourishing dinner, with his jib-sheet to windward
and the boat hove-to. The freshness of the breeze
had induced him to reef, and under that short sail, he found
the Bridget everything he could wish. It was now about
the middle of the afternoon, and Mark thought it prudent
to turn out his reef, and run down for the crater. In half
an hour he caught a sight of the spars of the ship; and ten
minutes later, the Summit appeared above the horizon.

It had been the intention of our young sailor to stay
out all night, had the weather been promising. His
wish was to ascertain how he might manage the boat,
single-handed, while he slept, and also to learn the extent
of the shoals. As the extraordinary fertility of the crater

superseded the necessity of his labouring much to keep
himself supplied with food, he had formed a plan of cruising
off the shoals, for days at a time, in the hope of falling
in with something that was passing, and which might carry
him back to the haunts of men. No vessel would or could
come in sight of the crater, so long as the existence of the
reefs was known; but the course steered by the Rancocus
was a proof that ships did occasionally pass in that quarter
of the Pacific. Mark had indulged in no visionary hopes
on this subject, for he knew he might keep in the offing a
twelvemonth and see nothing; but an additional twenty-four
hours might realize all his hopes.

The weather, however, on this his first experiment, did
not encourage him to remain out the whole night. On the
contrary, by the time the crater was in sight, Mark thought
he had not seen a more portentous-looking sky since he
had been on the Reef. There was a fiery redness in the
atmosphere that alarmed him, and he would have rejoiced
to be at home, in order to secure his stock within the crater.
From the appearances, he anticipated another tempest
with its flood. It is true, it was not the season when
the last occurred, but the climate might admit of these
changes. The difference between summer and winter was
very trifling on that reef, and a hurricane, or a gale, was
as likely to occur in the one as in the other.

Just as the Bridget was passing the two buoys by which
the ship-channel had been marked, her sail flapped. This
was a bad omen, for it betokened a shift of wind, which
rarely happened, unless it might be from six months to six
months, without being the precursor of some sort of a storm.
Mark was still two miles from the Reef, and the little wind
there was soon came ahead. Luckily, it was smooth water,
and very little air sufficed to force that light craft ahead,
while there was usually a current setting from that point
towards the crater. The birds, moreover, seemed uneasy,
the air being filled with them, thousands flying over the
boat, around which they wheeled, screaming and apparently
terrified. At first Mark ascribed this unusual behaviour
of his feathered neighbours to the circumstance of
their now seeing a boat for the commencement of such an
acquaintance; but, recollecting how often he had passed

their haunts, in the dingui, when they would hardly get
out of the way, he soon felt certain there must be another
reason for this singular conduct.

The sun went down in a bank of lurid fire, and the
Bridget was still a mile from the ship. A new apprehension
now came over our hermit. Should a tempest bring
the wind violently from the westward, as was very likely
to be the case under actual circumstances, he might be
driven out to sea, and, did the little craft resist the waves,
forced so far off as to make him lose the Reef altogether.
Then it was that Mark deeply felt how much had been
left him, by casting his lot on that beautiful and luxuriant
crater, instead of reducing him to those dregs of misery
which so many shipwrecked mariners are compelled to
swallow! How much, or how many of the blessings that
he enjoyed on the Reef, would he not have been willing
to part with, that evening, in order to secure a safe arrival
at the side of the Rancocus! By the utmost care to profit
by every puff of air, and by handling the boat with the
greatest skill, this happy result was obtained, however,
without any sacrifice.

About nine o'clock, and not sooner, the boat was well
secured, and Mark went into his cabin. Here he knelt
and returned thanks to God, for his safe return to a place
that was getting to be as precious to him as the love of life
could render it. After this, tired with his day's work, the
young man got into his berth and endeavoured to sleep.

The fatigue of the day, notwithstanding the invigorating
freshness of the breeze, acted as an anodyne, and our
young man soon forgot his adventures and his boat, in
profound slumbers. It was many hours ere Mark awoke,
and when he did, it was with a sense of suffocation. At
first he thought the ship had taken fire, a lurid light gleaming
in at the open door of the cabin, and he sprang to his
feet in recollection of the danger he ran from the magazine,
as well as from being burned. But no cracking of
flames reaching his ears, he dressed hastily and went out
on the poop. He had just reached this deck, when he felt
the whole ship tremble from her truck to her keel, and a
rushing of water was heard on all sides of him, as if a flood
were coming. Hissing sounds were heard, and streams

of fire, and gleams of lurid light were seen in the air. It
was a terrible moment, and one that might well induce any
man to imagine that time was drawing to its close.

Mark Woolston now comprehended his situation, notwithstanding
the intense darkness which prevailed, except
in those brief intervals of lurid light. He had felt the
shock of an earthquake, and the volcano had suddenly become
active. Smoke and ashes certainly filled the air, and
our poor hermit instinctively looked towards his crater,
already so verdant and lively, in the expectation of seeing
it vomit flames. Everything there was tranquil; the
danger, if danger there was, was assuredly more remote.
But the murky vapour which rendered breathing exceedingly
difficult, also obstructed the view, and prevented his
seeing where the explosion really was. For a brief space
our young man fancied he must certainly be suffocated;
but a shift of wind came, and blew away the oppressive
vapour, clearing the atmosphere of its sulphurous and most
offensive gases and odours. Never did feverish tongue
enjoy the cooling and healthful draught, more than Mark
rejoiced in this change. The wind had got back to its old
quarter, and the air he respired soon became pure and refreshing.
Had the impure atmosphere lasted ten minutes
longer, Mark felt persuaded he could not have breathed it
with any safety.

The light was now most impatiently expected by our
young man. The minutes seemed to drag; but, at length,
the usual signs of returning day became apparent to him,
and he got on the bowsprit of the ship, as if to meet it in
its approach. There he stood looking to the eastward,
eager to have ray after ray shoot into the firmament, when
he was suddenly struck with a change in that quarter of
the ocean, which at once proclaimed the power of the effort
which the earth had made in its subterranean throes.
Naked rocks appeared in places where Mark was certain
water in abundance had existed a few hours before. The
sea-wall, directly ahead of the ship, and which never showed
itself above the surface more than two or three inches, in
any part of it, and that only at exceedingly neap tides,
was now not only bare for a long distance, but parts rose
ten and fifteen feet above the surrounding sea. This

proved, at once, that the earthquake had thrust upward a
vast surface of the reef, completely altering the whole appearance
of the shoal! In a word, nature had made another
effort, and islands had been created, as it might be in the
twinkling of an eye.

Mark was no sooner assured of this stupendous fact, than
he hurried on to the poop, in order to ascertain what
changes had occurred in and about the crater. It had
been pushed upward, in common with all the rocks for
miles on every side of it, though without disturbing its
surface! By the computation of our young man, the Reef,
which previously lay about six feet above the level of the
ocean, was now fully twenty, so many cubits having been,
by one single but mighty effort of nature, added to its stature.
The planks which led from the stern of the vessel
to the shore, and which had formed a descent, were now
nearly level, so much water having left the basin as to produce
this change. Still the ship floated, enough remaining
to keep her keel clear of the bottom.

Impatient to learn all, Mark ran ashore, for by this time
it was broad daylight, and hastened into the crater, with
an intention to ascend at once to the Summit. As he
passed along, he could detect no change whatever on the
surface of the Reef; everything lying just as it had been
left, and the pigs and poultry were at their usual business
of providing for their own wants. Ashes, however, were
strewn over the rocks to a depth that left his footprints as
distinct as they could have been made in a light snow.
Within the crater the same appearances were observed,
fully an inch of ashes covering its verdant pastures and the
whole garden. This gave Mark very little concern, for
he knew that the first rain would wash this drab-looking
mantle into the earth, where it would answer all the purposes
of a rich dressing of manure.

On reaching the Summit, our young man was enabled
to form a better opinion of the vast changes which had
been wrought around him, by this sudden elevation of the
earth's crust. Everywhere sea seemed to be converted
into land, or, at least, into rock. All the white water had
disappeared, and in its place arose islands of rock, or
mud, or sand. A good deal of the last was to be seen, and

some quite near the Reef, as we shall still continue to call
the island of the crater. Island, however, it could now
hardly be termed. It is true that ribands of water approached
it on all sides, resembling creeks, and rivers and
small sounds; but, as Mark stood there on the Summit, it
seemed to him that it was now possible to walk for leagues,
in every direction, commencing at the crater and following
the lines of reefs, and rocks, and sands, that had been laid
bare by the late upheaving. The extent of this change
gave him confidence in its permanency, and the young man
had hopes that what had thus been produced by the Providence
of God would be permitted to remain, to answer his
own benevolent purposes. It certainly made an immense
difference in his own situation. The boat could still be
used, but it was now possible for him to ramble for hours,
if not for days, along the necks, and banks, and hummocks,
and swales that had been formed, and that with a dry foot.
His limits were so much enlarged as to offer something
like a new world to his enterprise and curiosity.

The crater, nevertheless, was apparently about the centre
of this new creation. To the south, it is true, the eye
could not penetrate more than two or three leagues. A
vast, dun-looking cloud, still covered the sea in that direction,
veiling its surface far and wide, and mingling with
the vapours of the upper atmosphere. Somewhere within
this cloud, how far or how near from him he knew not,
Mark made no doubt a new outlet to the pent forces of the
inner earth was to be found, forming another and an active
crater for the exit of the fires beneath. Geology was a
science that had not made its present progress in the day
of Mark Woolston, but his education had been too good to
leave him totally without a theory for what had happened.
He supposed that the internal fires had produced so much
gas, just beneath this spot, as to open crevices at the bottom
of the ocean, through which water had flowed in sufficient
quantities to create a vast body of steam, which steam
had been the immediate agent of lifting so much of the
rock and land, and of causing the earthquake. At the
same time, the internal fires had acted in concert; and
following an opening, they had got so near the surface as
to force a chimney for their own exit, in the form of this

new crater, of the existence of which, from all the signs to
the southward, Mark did not entertain the smallest doubt.

This theory may have been true, in whole or in part, or
it may have been altogether erroneous. Such speculations
seldom turn out to be minutely accurate. So many unknown
causes exist in so many unexpected forms, as to
render precise estimates of their effects, in cases of physical
phenomena, almost as uncertain as those which follow
similar attempts at an analysis of human motives and human
conduct. The man who has been much the subject
of the conjectures and opinions of his fellow-creatures, in
this way, must have many occasions to wonder, and some
to smile, when he sees how completely those around him
misjudge his wishes and impulses. Although formed of
the same substance, influenced by the same selfishness,
and governed by the same passions, in nothing do men
oftener err than in this portion of the exercise of their intellects.
The errors arise from one man's rigidly judging
his fellow by himself, and that which he would do he fancies
others would do also. This rule would be pretty safe,
could we always penetrate into the wants and longings of
others, which quite as often fail to correspond closely with
our own, as do their characters, fortunes, and hopes.

At first sight, Mark had a good deal of difficulty in understanding
the predominant nature of the very many
bodies of water that were to be seen on every side of him.
On the whole, there still remained almost as much of one
element as of the other, in the view; which of itself, however,
was a vast change from what had previously been the
condition of the shoals. There were large bodies of water,
little lakes in extent, which it was obvious enough must
disappear under the process of evaporation, no communication
existing between them and the open ocean. But,
on the other hand, many of these sheets were sounds, or
arms of the sea, that must always continue, since they
might be traced, far as eye could reach, towards the mighty
Pacific. Such, Mark was induced to believe, was the fact
with the belt of water that still surrounded, or nearly surrounded
the Reef; for, placed where he was, the young
man was unable to ascertain whether the latter had, or had
not, at a particular point, any land communication with an

extensive range of naked rock, sand, mud, and deposit,
that stretched away to the westward, for leagues. In obvious
connection with this broad reach of what might be
termed bare ground, were Guano and Loam Islands; neither
of which was an island any longer, except as it was a
part of the whole formation around it. Nevertheless, our
young man was not sorry to see that the channel around
the Reef still washed the bases of both those important
places of deposit, leaving it in his power to transport their
valuable manures by means of the raft, or boat.

The situation of the ship next became the matter of
Mark's most curious and interested investigation. She
was clearly afloat, and the basin in which she rode had a
communication on each side of it, with the sound, or inlet,
that still encircled the Reef. Descending to the shore,
our young mariner got into the dingui, and pulled out round
the vessel, to make a more minute examination. So very
limpid was the water of that sea, it was easy enough to
discern a bright object on the bottom, at a depth of several
fathoms. There were no streams in that part of the world
to pour their deposits into the ocean, and air itself is
scarce more transparent than the pure water of the ocean,
when unpolluted with any foreign substances. All it wants
is light, to enable the eye to reach into its mysteries for a
long way. Mark could very distinctly perceive the sand
beneath the Rancocus' keel, and saw that the ship still
floated two or three feet clear of the bottom. It was near
high water, however; and there being usually a tide of
about twenty inches, it was plain enough that, on certain
winds, the good old craft would come in pretty close contact
with the bottom. All expectation of ever getting the
vessel out of the basin must now be certainly abandoned,
since she lay in a sort of cavity, where the water was six
or eight feet deeper than it was within a hundred yards on
each side of her.

Having ascertained these facts, Mark provided himself
with a fowling-piece, provisions, &c., and set out to explore
his newly acquired territories on foot. His steps
were first directed to the point where it appeared to the
eye, that the vast range of dry land to the westward, extending
both north and south, had become connected with

the Reef. If such connection existed at all, it was by two
very narrow necks of rock, of equal height, both of which
had come up out of the water under the late action, which
action had considerably altered and extended the shores
of Crater Island. Sand appeared in various places along
these shores, now; whereas, previously to the earthquake,
they had everywhere been nearly perpendicular rocks.

Mark was walking, with an impatient step, towards the
neck just mentioned, and which was at no great distance
from the ship-yard, when his eye was attracted towards a
sandy beach of several acres in extent, that spread itself
along the margin of the rocks, as clear from every impurity
as it was a few hours before, when it had been raised from
out of the bosom of the ocean. To him, it appeared that
water was trickling through this sand, coming from beneath
the lava of the Reef. At first, he supposed it was merely
the remains of some small portion of the ocean that had
penetrated to a cavity within, and which was now trickling
back through the crevices of the rocks, to find its level,
under the great law of nature. But it looked so pleasant
to see once more water of any sort coming upwards from
the earth, that the young man jumped down upon the sands,
and hastened to the spot for further inquiry. Scooping up
a little of the water in the hollow of his hand, he found it
sweet, soft, and deliciously cool. Here was a discovery,
indeed! The physical comfort for which he most pined
was thus presented to him, as by a direct gift from heaven;
and no miser who had found a hoard of hidden gold, could
have felt so great pleasure, or a tenth part of the gratitude,
of our young hermit, if hermit we may call one who did
not voluntarily seek his seclusion from the world, and who
worshipped God less as a penance than from love and
adoration.

Before quitting this new-found treasure, Mark opened a
cavity in the sand to receive the water, placing stone around
it to make a convenient and clean little basin. In ten
minutes this place was filled with water almost as limpid
as air, and every way as delicious as the palate of man
could require. The young man could scarce tear himself
away from the spot, but fearful of drinking too much he
did so, after a time. Before quitting the spring, however,

he placed a stone of some size at a gap in the rock, a precaution
that completely prevented the hogs, should they
stroll that way, from descending to the beach and defiling
the limpid basin. As soon as he had leisure, Mark resolved
to sink a barrel in the sand, and to build a fence
around it; after which the stock might descend and drink
at a pool he should form below, at pleasure.

Mark proceeded. On reaching the narrowest part of
the `Neck,' he found that the rocks did not meet, but the
Reef still remained an island. The channel that separated
the two points of rock was only about twenty feet wide,
however, though it was of fully twice that depth. The
young man found it necessary to go back to the ship-yard
(no great distance, by the way), and to bring a plank with
which to make a bridge. This done, he passed on to the
newly emerged territory. As might have been expected,
the rocks were found tolerably well furnished with fish,
which had got caught in pools and crevices when the water
flowed into the sea; and what was of still more importance,
another and a much larger spring of fresh water was found
quite near the bridge, gushing through a deposit of sand
of some fifteen or twenty acres in extent. The water of
this spring had run down into a cavity, where it had already
formed a little lake of some two acres in surface, and
whence it was already running into the sea, by overflowing
its banks. These two discoveries induced Mark to return
to the Reef again, in quest of the stock. After laying
another plank at his bridge, he called every creature he
had over into the new territory; for so great was the command
he had obtained over even the ducks, that all came
willingly at his call. As for Kitty, she was never more
happy than when trotting at his side, accompanying him
in his walks, like a dog.

Glad enough were the pigs, in particular, to obtain this
new range. Here was everything they could want; food
in thousands, sand to root on, fresh water to drink, pools
to wallow in, and a range for their migratory propensities.
Mark had no sooner set them at work on the sea-weed and
shell-fish that abounded there, for the time being at least,
than he foresaw he should have to erect a gate at his
bridge, and keep the hogs here most of the time. With

such a range, and the deposits of the tides alone, they
would have no great difficulty in making their own living.
This would enable him to increase the number kept, which
he had hitherto been obliged to keep down with the most
rigid attention to the increase.

Mark now set out, in earnest, on his travels. He was
absent from the Reef the entire day. At one time, he
thought he was quite two leagues in a straight line from
the ship, though he had been compelled to walk four to
get there. Everywhere he found large sheets of salt water,
that had been left on the rocks, in consequence of the cavities
in the latter. In several instances, these little lakes
were near a mile in length, having the most beautifully
undulating outlines. None of them were deep, of course,
though their bottoms varied. Some of these bottoms were
clean rock; others contained large deposits of mud; and
others, again, were of a clean, dark-coloured sand. One,
and one only, had a bottom of a bright, light-coloured sand.
As a matter of course, these lakes, or pools, must shortly
evaporate, leaving their bottoms bare, or encrusted with
salt. One thing gave the young man great satisfaction.
He had kept along the margin of the channel that communicated
with the water that surrounded the Reef, and,
when at the greatest distance from the crater, he ascended
a rock that must have had an elevation of a hundred feet
above the sea. Of course most of this rock had been above
water previously to the late eruption, and Mark had often
seen it at a distance, though he had never ventured through
the white water near so far, in the dingui. When on its
apex, Mark got an extensive view of the scene around him.
In the first place, he traced the channel just mentioned,
quite into open water, which now appeared distinctly not
many leagues further, towards the north-west. There were
a great many other channels, some mere ribands of water,
others narrow sounds, and many resembling broad, deep,
serpenting creeks, which last was their true character,
being strictly inlets from the sea. The lakes, or pools,
could be seen in hundreds, creating some confusion in the
view; but all these must soon disappear, in that climate.

Towards the southward, however, Mark found the objects
of his greatest wonder and admiration. By the time he

reached the apex of the rock, the smoke in that quarter
of the horizon had, in a great measure, risen from the sea;
though a column of it continued to ascend towards a vast,
dun-coloured cloud that overhung the place. To Mark's
astonishment he had seen some dark, dense body first
looming through the rising vapour. When the last was
sufficiently removed, a high, ragged mountain became
distinctly visible. He thought it arose at least a thousand
feet above the ocean, and that it could not be less than a
league in extent. This exhibition of the power of nature
filled the young man's soul with adoration and reverence
for the mighty Being that could set such elements at work.
It did not alarm him, but rather tended to quiet his longings
to quit the place; for he who lives amid such scenes
feels that he is so much nearer to the arm of God than
those who dwell in uniform security, as to think less of
ordinary advantages than is common.

Mark knew that there must have been a dislocation of
the rocks, to produce such a change as that he saw to the
southward. It was well for him it occurred there at a distance,
as he then thought, of ten or fifteen miles from the
Reef, though in truth it was at quite fifty, instead of happening
beneath him. It was possible, however, for one
to have been on the top of that mountain, and to have
lived through the late change, could the lungs of man have
breathed the atmosphere. Not far from this mountain a
column of smoke rose out of the sea, and Mark fancied
that, at moments, he could discern the summit of an active
crater at its base.

After gazing at these astonishing changes for a long
time, our young man descended from the height and retraced
his steps homeward. Kitty gladly preceded him,
and some time after the sun had set, they regained the
Reef. About a mile short of home, Mark passed all the
hogs, snugly deposited in a bed of mud, where they had
esconced themselves for the night, as one draws himself
beneath his blanket.