A terrible fear gripped me.
"Which one?" I cried. "Which one?"
She shook her head. "I don't know. They are all volcanic in this area."
I felt sick. I had visions of Cougabel's great limpid eyes heavy with prophecies. "Grumbling Giant not pleased... ."
A fatalistic certainty came to me. I knew that the Giant had ceased to grumble and give vent to his anger.
The captain was undecided what to do.
He had goods to deliver to the island and he was not absolutely sure which one was affected, and as the rocking of the ship had stopped he decided to venture farther.
I was on the deck. I was looking at the ruins of my home. I could see the mountain peak, flames shooting from it and smoke circling round it.
I went to the captain. "This is my home," I said. "I must go and see for myself."
"I can't let you go," he told me. "It's dangerous."
'It's my home," I repeated stubbornly.
"I am sending two boats ashore to see if there are any people in need of help."
"I'm going with them," I said.
"I'm afraid I can't allow it."
I kept saying: "It's my home, you know." He did know because he had captained the ship several times when I had gone back and forth from school.
"I can't let you go," he said.
"I shall swim then. You can't stop that. I've got to see for myself. My mother may be there ... my father... ."
He could see I was frantic with grief and apprehension.
"It's at your own risk," he said.
I stood there on that once beautiful island. I looked about me but could recognize little. The Giant remained, big and menacing, his sides burned black by the fiery streaks which he had spewed out over the fertile land. On what was left of the huts were strewn cinders and ashes. There were traces of hot pumice and glowing lava. It was dark, almost like night, but I saw that all that was left of the beautiful hospital was a heap of stones.
"Where are you?" I whispered. "Anabel ... Joel ... where are you? Philip, Susannah, Cougaba, Cougabel ... where?"
There were rivers of pasty mud over everything. The steam from the volcano had evidently condensed into rain and mixed with the light volcanic dust to form this paste. It had clearly flowed down from the slopes and smothered the little houses of the islanders.
Around the island were dust and stones which must have been blown out from the crater for miles around.
I could not believe it. It was a nightmare. I knew that nobody could survive such a cataclysmic experience.
It was lost ... everything. My whole life had been wiped away.
Why had I laughed at the Grumbling Giant? Why had we all? Why hadn't we listened to the warnings of the natives who knew far better than we did?
He had destroyed us in the end—destroyed my father and his hopes and dreams, my beloved mother, Cougaba, Cougabel, Susannah, Philip... .
I had been saved by some miracle in the form of Laura's wedding. But saved for what?
I was alone . . , desolate.
I wished that I had been there with them.
The captain looked at me with kindly eyes.
"There is nothing you can do. There's nothing any of us can do. You must return to Sydney with the ship."
My mind was a blank. I could not think of the future. I could think of nothing but that they were gone ... they were all dead.
I did not want to go back to Sydney. I wanted to stay there in that spot where we had all been so happy. I wanted to tunnel through the rubble. I wanted to look and look. "Just in case ..." I said to the captain.
He shook his head. "None could have survived. Where could they have gone to? Can you imagine what it would have been like?"
I shook my head and cried: "Tell me. Tell me."
He put his arm about me and tried to soothe me. "You mustn't distress yourself," he said.
"Not distress myself! My home ... all that I loved ... all that meant anything to me ... gone ... and I must not distress myself!"
He was silent and I went on: "Tell me what happened to them. Tell me what it would have been like for them."
"It would have happened quickly," he said. "They might not have had any warning. Just a sudden commotion ... inside the crater... ."
"Grumbling," I cried hysterically. "It was the Grumbling Giant. We laughed at it ... laughed. Oh, it was evil ... and we laughed... ."
"My dear Miss Mateland, it is no use going over it," he said. "I doubt they would have suffered. It would all have been too quick."
"All over ..." I said. "Years of hopes and dreams ... and all over."
"Let me take you back to the ship," he said. "We'll go back to Sydney and then you can make plans."
"Plans?" I murmured blankly. "Plans?"
I hadn't thought of the future until then. But of course I had to go on living.
I did not want to think of the future. I did not want to think of living without them. I only wanted to know how it happened. I wanted to think of them in their last moments. My mother, best loved of all, Miss Anabel who had brought such happiness to a little girl in a loveless cottage all those years ago, Miss Anabel with the gayest laughter I had ever heard ... and she was gone. I had known what it meant to be dearly loved and I had loved in return. And now ... and now ...
I could not imagine a world without her.
"Tell me ... tell me how it happened," I cried again.
"Well, it was a volcanic eruption. We thought it was extinct. It hadn't erupted for three hundred years. It only sent out dribbles now and then."
"It grumbled," I said. "It grumbled and grumbled. It was the Grumbling Giant. That's what they called it."
"I know the natives were superstitious about it. They're always superstitious about anything they don't understand. There would have been total darkness. The sea would have been disturbed. You see it has receded from the shores. There are lots of marine animals lying about. There would be flashes of lightning and the lava would start spurting out of the crater and covering the island."
"Hot glowing lava ..."
"And the volcanic dust would make the paste. The air would be full of steam. But you are distressing yourself, Miss Mateland. Come, I'm taking you back to the ship. We ought to get away quickly. I just had to make sure there was nothing I could do. Nobody survived. You can see that. Come along now."
"I want to stay," I cried irrationally. "It's my home."
"No more," he said sadly. "Come along. We have to get back. It could be dangerous here. What if it erupted again?"
He took me firmly by the arm and put me into the small boat.
We went back to the ship.
I knew I should never forget the sight of the island ... smoldering, destroyed. The hospital ... the plantation ... all the dreams ... everything that meant anything to me ... all gone.
I must have been in a sort of daze. The captain took me to the hotel. He was a very kind man and I shall always remember his sympathy with gratitude.
Everyone was kind to me, as people seem to be when there is a major disaster. The manager of the hotel gave me my old room and left me alone there. I wanted to be alone.
I stayed there for two days—not eating, just lying on my bed. The only relief was when I slept, which I did now and then very fitfully from sheer exhaustion. Then there would follow the awakening, which was terrible because then the reality would come flooding back.
At the end of two days I awoke from my stupor. Mrs. Halmer came in from the property, for news of what had happened had reached her. She said I must go back with her. I needed to recover from this terrible shock.
I thought about it; I was not sure whether I wanted to go or not. Hers would be a house of mourning too, for her son Philip was one of the victims.
She said we would share our grief, that we would comfort each other.
When she saw that I was still too bemused to make a decision she said she would come back in a week and in the meantime if I wanted to come there would be a welcome for me at any time.