At last we found the traces of Soma's handiwork with an axe, and guided
by these signs we hurried forward. The ground rose gradually toward the
centre of the island, where columns of basalt loomed like the towers of
feudal castles against the pure Venetian blue of the tropical sky. But
the sky was visible only for moments that were far removed from each
other. The crawling vines that overran the trees made an impenetrable
barrier against the sunlight, and most of the time we were stumbling
along in a mysterious twilight that increased my nervous agony. Masses
of rock of volcanic origin were thickly strewn around, and anything like
fast travelling was impossible.
The sun dropped slowly toward the west, and we had great difficulty in
holding to the path. The axe marks and the branches broken by the
carriers were really the only signs that we had to go by, but the eyes
of the Fijian were exceedingly sharp in detecting the slightest evidence
left by the party. We passed the spot where they had lunched, and
increased our speed in an endeavour to overtake them before nightfall.
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