Below was the straight stalk, a foot or more thick, and above the dreadful bloom.

And as for the fearfulness of it and its fierce and awesome beauty, who can describe it?
Certainly I cannot.

Although we were now some five hundred yards away, it, notwithstanding the steam, lit up the whole cavern as clear as day, and we could see that the roof was here about forty feet above us, and washed perfectly smooth with water.

The rock was black, and here and there I could make out long shining lines of ore running through it like great veins, but of what metal they were I know not.
On we rushed towards this pillar of fire, which gleamed fiercer than any furnace ever lit by man.
'Keep the boat to the right, Quatermain -- to the right,' shouted Sir Henry, and a minute afterwards I saw him fall forward senseless.
Alphonse had already gone.

Good was the next to go.