The Flaming Mountain: A Rick Brant Science-Adventure Story. Goodwin Harold Leland
patted his pockets one at a time. "One in each breast pocket and one in my watch pocket. Don't push me around, buddy. I'm loaded."
Scotty grinned. "I'll keep my distance."
The rest of the party was loading jeeps now, too. Scotty hoisted the equipment and lunches into the back of the jeep and got in with them. Rick climbed gingerly into the front passenger seat and Zircon got ready to drive. He handed Rick a map. "You navigate. Our first destination is marked with a cross. We start out on the road leading west from the hotel. That will take us to the pumice works."
"Okay," Rick began, but he never finished. The jeep began to rock under him. For an insane instant he thought it must have a perfectly silent motor, then he realized Zircon had not yet turned on the ignition switch. Sudden dizziness made him clutch at the seat, and instinctively he clapped an arm across his chest to protect the dynamite caps.
He was vaguely conscious of yells from around him, and he struggled to sit up straight. His stomach was churning and he felt nauseated. Zircon let out a bellow like a wounded steer.
From inside the hotel Rick heard the sudden crash of shattering glass and gripped the jeep seat tighter with his free hand.
Then, as suddenly as it had come, it was over. He straightened up, dizzy. "Wh-what happened?" he asked shakily.
He heard Dr. Balgos. "A warning, my friends. The most serious one yet." He pointed up to where the peak of El Viejo loomed. "The Old One must be working faster than I thought."
"But what was it?" Rick asked again and at the same time was afraid that he knew.
"Earthquake," Zircon boomed. He pointed.
Rick stared. In a zigzag line across the hotel parking lot was a fissure, one that hadn't been there a minute before. The concrete gaped in widths varying from a crack to a few inches.
The earth had opened up!
CHAPTER III
Firing Parties
It was a shaken group of scientists that moved off in their jeeps to the preselected stations. Most of the adults had experienced earthquakes before, but none had seen the earth split almost at their feet. To Rick, the sensation had been as upsetting as any he had ever experienced.
"The one thing we learn to depend on," Zircon said, "is that the earth under our feet is solid and dependable. When it shakes like a jelly, it causes a kind of emotional shock, apart from any physical damage it may do."
"It certainly did with me," Rick agreed.
"Ditto," Scotty added.
Zircon put the jeep in gear and moved away from the hotel. He drove slowly over the narrow part of the crack in the parking lot, then picked up speed. Rick looked around. Bradley Connel and Ruiz were following in their own vehicle.
Zircon took a blacktop road to the west, close to the base of the mountain. Fortunately for Rick's peace of mind, the road was fairly smooth. He had never carried dynamite caps before, but he knew they contained fulminate of mercury, which is one of the most unstable and violent chemical substances, pound for pound, ever created.
The big scientist sensed his uneasiness. "Relax, Rick. Those caps won't go off without a substantial knock against something. Enjoy the scenery."
Rick grinned. "I'll try."
The scenery was tropical. Once away from the hotel grounds, there was heavy growth, vines, creepers, and broad-leafed plants. He saw palmetto and wild banana interspersed with Judas palms and other typical vegetation. The growth clung to the side of El Viejo like a thick green carpet. Now and then the jeep passed an open space in the vegetation and he saw the plains stretching away to the sea on his left.
The jeep climbed gradually and Rick realized that their direction had changed. They were now heading on the more northerly course. The vegetation was thinner, too, and he guessed it was because they were higher up the mountainside. At a rough estimate, the jeep had climbed nearly a thousand feet.
"Pumice quarry ahead," Zircon announced.
Rick saw ramshackle wooden buildings, then piles of grayish rock. A hundred yards farther on he saw an open pit. This was where the San Luzians mined pumice for export.
"Is there much of a market for it?" Scotty asked.
"Not as much as there was years ago," Zircon replied. "Pumice, as you probably know, is volcanic rock. But not an ordinary one. It's a kind of foamy lava honeycombed with gas bubbles. It's used as an abrasive. Modern industrial products have replaced it in general use, but apparently there's still enough demand so that the San Luzians are able to export a little. Our firing station is about a mile from here."
Rick looked at the rough terrain. "Think we can get through?"
"Easily. According to the map, we have an unpaved road part of the way."
The unpaved road turned out to be a pair of wagon tracks. But at least there were no trees in the way. Rick held on tight as Zircon shifted into four-wheel drive and forged ahead.
The big scientist kept an eye on his odometer, or mileage counter, while the boys watched for a clearing. It was slightly over a mile before they found one, and Zircon pulled off the road to let Brad Connel and Ruiz go by.
The jeep stopped as the two came abreast and the geologist called, "Want to trade stations?"
"We like this one," Zircon replied with a grin.
"Don't blame you. I have another three miles through this stuff. Well, so long."
The jeep started off and was soon lost as the path curved slightly.
Zircon looked at his watch. "Plenty of time, but we might as well get ready."
A few minutes search disclosed a spot far enough away from the clearing for safety, with no trees to be uprooted by the blast. Zircon took two of the dynamite sticks Rick carried and one of the caps. He placed the cap over one stick and used a special tool, like a jar opener, to crimp it into place.
"This is the only really delicate part of the operation," he said. "If the crimpers slip, they could set off the cap and the dynamite. So be careful when you do it. Keep the crimpers low on the flange of the cap."
He found a rubber band in his pocket and used it to hold the two sticks together. A coil of wire was produced next, and the connection made to the dynamite cap. Zircon dug a shallow hole with his heel and put the dynamite sticks in, then backed off unwinding wire as he went.
The detonator had been left in the jeep. Rick got it and carried it to where Zircon waited with the pair of wires.
"How does this thing work?" Scotty asked.
"It's a dynamo," Zircon replied. "When the handle is pushed down it engages gears that spin a flywheel, which operates the dynamo long enough to send an electrical charge through the wires."
"So don't sit on the handle," Rick joked.
"And don't kick it," Scotty added.
Zircon connected the wires to a pair of terminals on top of the detonator, then looked at his watch. "Plenty of time. We might as well take it easy. Anyone hungry?"
No one was. It was too soon after breakfast. Instead, Rick took the opportunity to ask questions.
"I can understand the general principle of what we're doing, but can you tell us exactly what happens?"
"Sure. When the dynamite charge goes off, it sends shock waves through the earth in all directions. Whenever a shock wave strikes something of different density, its direction and velocity change. For instance, if there is denser rock a few hundred feet down, that will cause a change of both velocity and direction. With me so far?"
"I think so," Scotty said. "The denser the stuff the wave strikes, the faster it moves. Like sound waves. I mean, sound moves faster in water than in air, and faster in a steel rail than in water. Is it the same?"
"Just about," Zircon agreed. "The shock waves radiate away from us, through the earth, and eventually reach the recorders on the other side of the mountain. You can see what happens, I think. Waves will arrive at different times,