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Dwyer, James Francis

"The White Waterfall"


"He's turned!" cried Holman. "We'll get him, Verslun! After the--O God!
_Look out_!"
Holman's warning came too late. The rocky floor over which we had been
running, dropped away from us. I pitched forward after the youngster
into a gulf of darkness, landed on my shoulder upon a mass of volcanic
ash, and clutching vainly at the stuff, I rolled at tremendous speed
down into the bowels of the earth. From far above us came the sounds of
uncontrolled merriment--the high-pitched shrieks of a native rising
above the deep bass laughter of Leith.

[Illustration]

CHAPTER XX
THE BLACK KINDERGARTEN
I thought we were a thousand years rolling down that slope of smothering
ash. It was a quicksand that melted beneath us. We drove our arms into
it, but the stuff slipped away like fine wood ash, and we went on and
on. I knew Holman was in front of me. Occasionally a curse directed at
Leith managed to slip out when his mouth was not filled with the
smothering dust. Once I shouted at him, and he answered the cry with a
groan that told me how the happening had affected him.


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