“
Break the rest of the bad news, Dad.
”
“
There
’
s to be gift shoppes and beauty salons, organized amusement, and a nightly dance.
”
“
That means a four-piece orchestra,
”
said Jessa, being a bright girl.
“
Wrong, it
’
s to be ten.
”
Jessa sighed.
“
I suppose Benjamin will be in a white suit.
”
She glanced across at Benjy in his coloured lap-lap.
“
If I can persuade the Bureau not to give me one of their own commissionaires,
”
said Mr. Barlow doubtfully.
“
Dad, you must have Benjamin,
”
put in Jessa, outraged,
“
in whatever he wears.
”
The Barlow parents laughed immoderately at that, and Mrs. Barlow explained to Margaret.
“
It happened many years ago. Jessamine was quite little. As you see I
’
m not svelte now.
”
She looked down at her plump figure and sighed.
“
And I wasn
’
t then.
”
“
The tropics do one of two things for you generally, you either get thin or you get well-covered.
”
“
Fat,
”
Mr. Barlow said.
“
Thank you, dear.
”
Mrs. Barlow gave him a tart look.
“
Anyway, Margaret, I was not, as I have just said, svelte.
“
We were expecting the Commissioner of our particular group of islands. Naturally we were
a
nxious to have everything very nice. It
was
nice, too. Benjamin had arranged the meal perfectly. It wasn
’
t the food, or the way he served it, it was his dress.
”
“
How was he dressed, Mrs. Barlow?
”
Jessa
’
s mother hung her head.
“
An old foundation garment I had discarded. If I had imagined he had his eye on the thing I would have burned it at once. You can imagine our horror when he carried in the dish correctly, as I had carefully instructed him, first to the Commissioner—but dressed only in a corsellette and nothing else.
”
“
Brassiere top, suspenders and all,
”
put in Mr. Barlow with relish.
“
That
’
s enough,
”
said his wife, and to Margaret,
“
More tea, my dear.
”
Vanda came along soon afterwards. Roger followed her as soon as bank hours permitted. Unlike the Barlows they were entirely delighted by the prospect of a tourist hote
l.
“
It means this,
”
grinned Roger deliberately.
“
I shall now be in a position to look around matrimonially and not be compelled to make do with one prospect.
”
He glanced at Vanda.
“
Don
’
t forget I
’
ll be in the same position, only more so,
”
she retorted.
“
I
’
m to be your father
’
s hostess, Jessa. I
’
ll be in the centre of things.
”
She looked at Roger and tossed her head.
“
Any schemes?
”
asked Jessamine with interest of the future hostess.
“
I
’
m bursting with them, first of all we must have floral leis for the guests when they
’
re departing.
”
“
Wouldn
’
t be much use the guests throwing them overboard to ascertain if they will return,
”
put in Barry dryly.
“
An aircraft, either sea or land, takes off far quicker than a ship, my infant, and the leis would flop.
”
Vanda ignored this.
“
I thought of making it a custom that once you look over your shoulder as you go you
’
ll come back again to Crescent Island. I read that about Burma once and I thought it was a pretty idea.
”
“
What other Hollywoodian, or rather Burmese, schemes?
”
“
Don
’
t be sour, Ba. I thought about lantern parties on the lagoon. It would be awfully pretty. You carry down a lantern, light it, launch it and make a wish.
”
“
Did you read that, too?
”
Vanda turned her back on Ba.
“
The only thing I hate is Lopi, Jessa,
”
she said mournfully.
“
Your father—and the Tourist Bureau—insist on making it one of the attractions, so I shall have to tak
e
up parties, I expect, and recite the fable, and I hate that ugly place.
”
“
It
’
s not really ugly, it
’
s just the way you look at it,
”
said Jessa.
“
I
’
ve lived with Lopi all my life and I understand her. The pair of us are good friends.
”
“
I can
’
t follow all this,
”
put in Margaret.
“
What is the fable?
”
“
That
’
s what I wanted to ask of Jessamine,
”
pleaded Vanda.
“
I wanted to know if she will come up before she leaves and give me a demonstration lecture about Lopi so that I won
’
t fall down on the job when I take along my first wretched tour.
”
“
We
’
ll go tomorrow, all of us,
”
suggested Ba.
“
We
’
ll make a picnic of it.
”
Vanda grimaced.
“
Lopi
’
s no picnic for me, she
’
s the worm in my peach.
”
Mr. and Mrs. Barlow declined to re-visit Lopi.
“
We went years ago,
”
Jessa
’
s mother reminded Jessa
’
s father,
“
and were duly approved by the goddess.
”
They both laughed.
“
What goddess?
”
asked Margaret,
“
and what had to be approved?
”
“
Jessamine will tell you when you reach the top of the volcano,
”
said Mrs. Barlow.
“
How many of you will go, so I can tell Benjamin what to pack?
”
The five young people decided they would make the trip. Roger had his bank work up to date, and as there were no island traders in the bay at the moment, nor any expected, he decided that it would be
all right
for him to come along as well.
“
Margaret, Vanda, Roger, Barry, Jessamine,
”
counted Mrs. Barlow.
Mr. Barlow said,
“
Take the station wagon as far as the beginning of the waste, it
’
ll mean an easier walk.
”
The next day they all climbed into the wagon. Benjamin had got in before them. He loved driving and never lost an opp
ortunity to get behind the wheel.
The lunch hamper was stowed aboard and a colossal number of lemon pop bottles.
“
It gets thirsty up there,
”
explained Jessa.
They started off round the mangrove bay; skirted several taro fields; stopped a few moments for Margaret to inspect the sides of a new house being lashed together with coconut fibre, then climbed into the wagon again.
Lopi was coming nearer. It was only thirteen hundred feet high, but in comparison with this flat rim of coast this seemed quite considerable. Its wisp of smoke was lazy, even benign and friendly.
“
It likes us,
”
Jessa assured them.
Vanda scowled.
It was still luxurious country. Giant fern trees, their huge umbrella leaves stirring gracefully in the soft wind, enticed them to pause and picnic in their cool shade.
Margaret, indeed, believed that this was what Jessamine intended when Benjamin, without being instructed, stopped the wagon and waited while she ran to the side of the track.
She returned at once, however, carrying a branch of bright red berries.
“
A gift to the Goddess Lopi,
”
she told Margaret.
“
You must never explore her kingdom without first tossing these berries.
”
Ba added,
“
Benjamin says once she demanded human sacrifice, but later accepted a little pig instead.
”
He added laconically,
“
A fat little pig, Benjamin told me. Probably it was tender as well, if Benjamin cared to admit it. I
’
ll swear it only went as far as his stomach.
”
“
Poor pig!
”
shuddered Vanda.
“
Though of the two fates I believe I
’
d prefer Benjamin to Lopi.
”
“
You mustn
’
t blame our volcano for such foolish talk,
”
reproved Jessa severely.
“
The natives probably made the fable up for their own benefit. They adore pork.
”
“
All the same
you
always take up a branch of red berries,
”
pointed out Ba pertinently.
“
I believe in that part of the fable, but I don
’
t believe about the pig,
”
persisted Jess.
“
Is all this the legend of Lopi?
”
asked Margaret, interested.
Roger drawled,
“
No, you
’
ll hear that on the top of the crater.
”
Suddenly, it seemed, there was no more forest, no more colour. Black desolation that could have been the very end of the world took its place. It happened with astonishing abruptness, almost within a yard.
The green stopped, the level surface became wave-like, as if the ocean had been trapped there and turned into stone.
Benjamin stopped the wagon and they all piled out, Roger rather indignantly.
“
I say, can
’
t we go further?
”
he complained.
“
It
’
s easily a mile hike from here.
”
Benjamin wouldn
’
t go further if you paid him, and he won
’
t let anyone else behind the wheel,
”
Jessa informed him.
They each took a pop bottle but left the hamper, then started across the hard lava rock. It was sharp and broken and unpleasant to walk on. Now and then you felt a faint warmt
h
beneath your feet. Jessa drew Margaret
’
s attention to two thin spirals of steam floating idly upwards from the surface crack.
“
Lopi is a sleeping volcano,
”
she said.
“
Actually when a volcano has escaping steam it should be classed active, but as the steam is so slight with Lopi, and as there are never any rumbles, we on the island insist it
’
s dormant, even near
-
extinct.
”
Vanda said with dislike,
“
It couldn
’
t be too extinct for me.
”
“
Anyway, it
’
s what
’
s known as a
‘
gentle
’
volcano. Scientists consider such volcanoes act merely as safety valves for the escape of internal steam.
”‘
They were climbing now. Margaret was glad she had listened to Jessa
’
s advice and worn strong walking shoes. It was not such a high hill, but it rose abruptly and the three girls had to be helped to the top.
Now they were on the summit. Around them were black distorted lava shapes. Jessa, her cheeks as red as the red berries she carried, ran excitedly to the pit. The others followed her.
Margaret did not know what she had expected—perhaps a huge basin of boiling lav
a—
a black ugly crust that swelled and lifted. But it was not at all like that.