The Devil's Breath

The first part of the ascent was relatively easy as the ridge offered plenty of foot holds. However as they continued their climb upwards, the weather added to their fears. Andre looked up at the awesome summit which towered above them, gray against the dark clouds in the sky. He watched with fear as the black cloud of ash and debris shot straight upwards into the sky in huge bellows. Shortly, Pelee's crater became covered with a thick mist that blotted out both the crater and the smoke. The mist descended and soon the entire party was engulfed in the cloud-like substance so that they could only see approximately a hundred yards in any direction. Shortly thereafter, it began to drizzle and the eeriness was heightened by the low rumbling noise deep inside the volcano. Suddenly a crash of thunder resounded above them and the area was lit up in a white flash of light. They all knew that they were in the crossfire of one of the massive thunder storms that had from time to time struck the top of the mountain. No sooner had the echo of the thunder disappeared into the recesses of the mist when another resounding crash followed, this time even more intense in volume than the last one. And again, the mist took on a bluish tint as the lightning flashed through it. In a moment, the party was subjected to merciless torrents of rain which pelted them with all the fury that such a storm could muster. Stunned by the force of the storm and soaked to their skins, the men started to slither and slide back the way they had come. What had been a ridge consisting of fairly good footholds was now a steep hill of slippery morass. The rain had washed away the footholds and replaced them with new hollows and fissures in which little streamlets flowed. Halfway down the mountain, the men felt the ground beneath their feet shake violently and could hear the rumbling sound from within the bowels of the volcano. Andre knew that when the storm hit them, it was because of the condensation produced by the intense heat coming from the crater of the volcano and that this was just a prelude of what was coming next. And just as they expected, the red hot lava flow poured out of a crevice in the mountain and began to flow down the slopes. It was only a matter of minutes when Andre heard the sound of steam hissing in the distance, a sound characteristic of rain falling on hot lava. The men knew they had to run for their lives and occasionally they looked behind them and could see a faint reddish glow through the mist, the mist which intermittently turned white as the lightning flashed through it. Before they had realized it, the men had reached the edge of the ridge which protruded out over the slope like a high cliff. Realizing that there was no way down the cliff, the men turned to face the lava coming towards them. However as the lava approached them it was apparent to them that it would be running down one of the ravines of one of the sides of the ridge. A few minutes of patient waiting proved that had they chosen the ravine on the western side of the ridge to climb down the mountain, they would have ended their lives as ash. With fascination, they watched the red hot lava pour down the ravine and slide past them in its heated fury. "We have to get out of here, otherwise its possible that the lava flow way cut us off from the city." yelled one of the men. "Then," yelled Andre. "We had better climb down the eastern ravine." "No" retorted one of the men. "We may get trapped in the ravine by the lava flow." Jean spoke up. “The lava is flowing down the western ravine. We will be OK if we climb down the eastern one." "I agree." yelled one of the men. "Not I!" yelled another. He continued. "It's obvious that if the lava flowed down one of the ravines, it could flow down another. I suggest that we stay on the ridge and wait till we see what happens to the eastern ravine." "That could prove dangerous." yelled Andre. "While we wait, this ravine could be worn away by the lava and crumble into the lava flow with us along with it." Jean cried out with as much authority his voice could muster. "Those in favor of climbing into the eastern ravine, show their hands." Half the hands were raised. "I suppose that we can assume that the rest wish to remain on the ridge," said Jean with a quizzical look in his eye. "Look. Why don't I run up the ridge a way and see what is coming down the eastern ravine, if anything?" asked Andre. “That's a good idea," answered one of men. "OK" said Andre, "I will be back in about five minutes." Andre left the small party of men, sitting huddled on the edge of the cliff and began his climb up the ridge. After a few minutes of attempting to keep to the thin edge of the ridge he saw a faint reddish glow in the mist at the bottom of the eastern ravine. He waited for another few minutes and saw the lava slowly pouring down the ravine and wondered as to why the lava flow on the western ravine poured down the mountain at a quicker pace than the flow on the other side of the ridge. What ever the reason for the increase in pace, he didn't intend to attempt to ascertain the reason as the heat from both ravines was becoming intolerably unbearable. Andre began his slippery descent back down the ridge to the others waiting at the cliff and when he reached them, he called out above the roar of the volcano, "We have to take the eastern ravine and now." "Why. What's wrong?" asked one of the men. A flash of lightning followed by a clap of thunder interrupted Andre as he was about to speak. "The lava is starting to come down the eastern ravine also." "We are trapped." screamed one of the men. "No. We are not." answered Andre. Then he continued, "The lava is flowing very slowly down the eastern ravine and we can beat it down the mountain. "I won't go." the man yelled. "Then stay." answered Andre. "But once you do, you will be stranded here, perhaps for ever." "We will go down the eastern ravine." called out another of the men. The men began the dangerous journey back up the ridge. The mud caused by the rain on the ash and earth was slippery beyond all expectations and soon the men were digging their fingers deep into the muck in hopes of securing some form of hold onto the ridge. Andre heard a shout behind him and turned to see three men begin to slither down the slope of the western ridge. With terror in their eyes, they looked at the bubbling and boiling lava waiting below and began clawing hopelessly at the slippery morass as it offered no foothold. On closer look, Andre saw that the man nearest the top of the ridge was Jean Aubrey. "Hang on Jean." called Andre as he climbed towards him. "I can't. I'm slipping down." cried Jean. "You must." replied Andre. Some of the other men tried to reach down to assist the three men but the two men below Jean were beyond any hope of being saved and despite their efforts, they slid down the slope and while clawing at the mud and screaming in agony, the two men slid into the liquid lava and disappeared in two small puffs of smoke. Andre reached for Jean's hands but just as he was to reach for them, Jean grabbed Andre's wrists. Some of the men grabbed Andre's legs and prevented him from being dragged down the slope. Andre felt Jean's muddy hands slip slowly from his wrists and Andre yelled. "Let one of my wrists go so that I can grab your hand." "I can't." answered Jean. "I will lose the grip on your other wrist." The two men hung down the side of the ridge for a few minutes, both realizing that in a few short moments, Jean would slip