But the Professor gave up his idea of abandoning the raft, and it was well he did. However roughly joined together, those planks afforded us a firmer support than we could have found anywhere else.

About eight in the morning a new incident occurred. The upward movement ceased. The raft lay motionless.

“What is this?” I asked, shaken by this sudden stoppage as if by a shock.

“It is a halt,” replied my uncle.

“Is the eruption checked?” I asked.

“I hope not.”

I rose, and tried to look around me. Perhaps the raft itself, stopped in its course by a projection, was staying the volcanic torrent. If this were the case we should have to release it as soon as possible.

But it was not so. The blast of ashes, scoriae, and rubbish had ceased to rise.