Read on line
Listen on line
Main > Fairy tale > All authors > Frank Baum > Fairy tale "Aunt Jane's Nieces Abroad"

Aunt Jane's Nieces Abroad

At dinner the captain announced that he had dropped anchor at the

Immacollatella Nuova, but at a safe distance from the shore, and that no

passengers would be landed under any circumstances until the fall of

ashes ceased and he could put his people ashore in a proper manner.

A spirit of unrest fell upon them all. Big Tom Horton whispered to Beth

that he did not intend to leave her side until all danger was over. The

deck was deserted, all the passengers crowding into the smoking room and

saloons to escape the lava dust.

Few kept their rooms or ventured to sleep. At intervals a loud

detonation from the volcano shook the air, and the mystery and awe of

the enveloping gloom were so palpable as almost to be felt.

Toward midnight the wind changed, driving the cloud of ashes to the

southward and sufficiently clearing the atmosphere to allow the angry

glow of the crater to be distinctly seen. Now it shot a pillar of fire

thousands of feet straight into the heavens; then it would darken and

roll skyward great clouds that were illumined by the showers of sparks

accompanying them.

The windows of every cabin facing the volcano were filled with eager

faces, and in the smoking room Uncle John clasped Beth around the waist

with one arm and Patsy with the other and watched the wonderful

exhibition through the window with a grave and anxious face. Tom Horton

had taken a position at one side of them and the dark Italian at the

other. The latter assured Patsy they were in no danger whatever. Tom

secretly hoped they were, and laid brave plans for rescuing Beth or

perishing at her side. Louise chose to lie in her berth and await

events with calm resignation. If they escaped she would not look haggard

and hollow-eyed when morning came. If a catastrophy was pending she

would have no power to prevent it.

It was four o'clock on Sunday morning when Vesuvius finally reached the

climax of her travail. With a deep groan of anguish the mountain burst

asunder, and from its side rolled a great stream of molten lava that

slowly spread down the slope, consuming trees, vineyards and dwellings

in its path and overwhelming the fated city of Bosco-Trecase.

Also read
Read
Read
Who was the Thief?
Category: South African folktales
Read times: 21
Read