Next moment the steamer went ahead, and the canoe ploughed over the Sunda Straits at the rate of thirteen miles an hour, with her sharp prow high out of the water, and the stern correspondingly low.  The voyage, which would have otherwise cost our three travellers a long laborious night and part of next day, was by this means so greatly shortened that when daybreak arrived they were not more than thirteen miles to the east of Krakatoa.  Nearer than this the steamboat could not take them without going out of her course, but as Van der Kemp and Nigel gratefully acknowledged, it was quite near enough.

“Well, I should just think it was rather too near!” said the captain with a grin.

And, truly, he was justified in making the remark, for the explosions from the volcano had by that time become not only very frequent, but tremendously loud, while the dense cloud which hung above it and spread far and wide over the sky covered the sea with a kind of twilight that struggled successfully against the full advent of day.  Lightning too was playing among the rolling black masses of smoke, and the roaring explosions every now and then seemed to shake the very heavens.

Casting off the tow-rope, they turned the bow of their canoe to the island.  As a stiffish breeze was blowing, they set the sails, close-reefed, and steered for the southern shore at that part which lay under the shadow of Rakata.

CHAPTER XXIV.

AN AWFUL NIGHT AND TERRIBLE MORNING.

It was a matter of some satisfaction to find on drawing near to the shore that the peak of Rakata was still intact, and that, although most other parts of the island which could be seen were blighted by fire and covered deeply with pumice dust, much of the forest in the immediate neighbourhood of the cave was still undestroyed though considerably damaged.

“D’you think our old harbour will be available, Moses?” asked Van der Kemp as they came close to the first headland.

“Pr’aps.  Bes’ go an’ see,” was the negro’s practical reply.

“Evidently Rakata is not yet active,” said Nigel, looking up at the grey dust-covered crags as the canoe glided swiftly through the dark water.

“That is more than can be said for the other craters,” returned the hermit.  “It seems to me that not only all the old ones are at work, but a number of new ones must have been opened.”

The constant roaring and explosions that filled their ears and the rain of fine ashes bore testimony to the truth of this, though the solid and towering mass of Rakata rose between them and the part of Krakatoa which was in eruption, preventing their seeing anything that was passing except the dense masses of smoke, steam, and dust which rose many miles into the heavens, obstructing the light of day, but forming cloud-masses from which the lurid flames of the volcano were reflected downward.