At every stamp there was a hiss--a sharp, angry hiss and a puff of vapour rose from among the leaves.
"There's your serpent," he said, laughing.

"No wonder you did not hit it." "Then that must be steam we saw over yonder, and not savages' fires." "Right, my lad.

A false alarm.

We're in a volcanic land, and if we search about I daresay we shall find hot springs somewhere." "It can't be very safe," said Mark thoughtfully, as he watched the little puffs of steam rise.
"Not if you jump on a soft place, for there would be no knowing where you went.

But come along, I think we've done enough for one day, so let's find our pigeons and get back." "Where's Jacko ?" said Mark, looking round.
"Jack! Last time I saw him he was up a tree eating those sour berries just after I shot the last pigeon.