The ascent became still more difficult. The natives puffed under their
loads, and Holman rushed angrily to the front and demanded a halt on
behalf of the girls struggling in the rear. During the few minutes that
Leith grudgingly allowed them in which to recover their breath, the
youngster hurried up to the spot where I was busy fixing the loads of
the natives, and in a nervous whisper he asked my opinion of the route.
"Where the dickens are we going?" he cried.
"This is the most eerie-looking patch of country that I have ever seen
in my life."
"Leith said that we had to reach the Vermilion Pit before the sun went
down," I replied. "I guess it is somewhere at the end of this staircase
that we are trying to climb."
"Oh, Gee!" cried the boy. "Say, this game has got those two girls scared
to death. There's something wrong with the place, Verslun. My skin feels
it. The island looks as if it has been left too long by itself, and I'm
beginning to think that all those rocks and trees are watching us and
wondering what we want here."
That was how it felt to me from the moment I had left _The Waif_, and I
had tried vainly to overcome the feeling.
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