"Like that," Volo replied. "Lucky for us there was the break in the hull, or the sheer force of the hot air escaping from the ground could have lifted us up and over the side of the plateau, or at least unseated us from this fairly firm base."
Passepout became extremely excited, but couldn't quite get his explanation out. "Look!" he finally screamed.
All eyes turned to him.
"Not at me," he cried. "At the sail!"
The other passengers of the Minnow turned around to behold the object of the thespian's excitement.
The geyser's hot air was inflating the sailbag, which was beginning to lift the ship.
"Quickly!" Volo ordered. "Throw down a hook to keep us in place!"
"Aye, aye," said Grumby. He released a lever that activated the lowering of anchorlike grapples to the ground below. "That was a close call, we would have gone over the side for sure."
Passepout looked at the inflating sailbag and had an idea.
"Mister Volo," the thespian offered, "I remember when I was once working on a show with my parents, Idle and Catinflas, the famous thespians, that I helped out with some of the set decorations.
The set designer was an elf, and he used hot air to inflate bags of colored paper, which would then float in the air around the stage. Perhaps we could do something similar here."
"If we can get the ship aloft and on an even keel," Curtis asserted, "I'm sure I can helm her back toward the east."
"Capital idea!" Volo exclaimed. "Curtis, you and I will unfoul the rigging so that the sailbag can continue to inflate evenly. Once it appears to be full, we can use the paint and glue that Passepout found below to make a sealing paste to take care of any slow leaks or ruptures in the sail skin."
"What do you want me to do?" Passepout asked, instantly regretting that he had spoken up.
"I want you and Grumby to find something to cover that hole in the hull. Once the sailbag is inflated, we have to be able to stopper it. So scout around the immediate area… and hurry. I might have been overly optimistic about the amount of time we have, volcanically speaking, that is."
The thespian and the dwarf grumbled as they took off for their assignment, as much about their assigned companion as about the duty itself. Passepout decided they should follow a path through the brush that would circle around the ship so that at least he would not fall prey to retracing his steps.
"Superstitious, are you," the dwarf commented upon hearing the thespian's concern about doubling back.
"Something like that," he replied, not wanting to further explain. He did not trust the dwarf and had no desire to supply him with any information that could be used against him or Volo.
"You know, that kid Curtis is pretty smart," the dwarf continued, purposely trying to provoke the overweight and out-of-shape thespian, who was having a difficult time getting though the hot, humid rain forest brush that occupied the jungle side of the volcanic mountain.
"Well, I was the one who figured out about the sailbag, and the hot air!" the thespian contended indignantly.
"I would have expected you to be an expert on hot air," replied the belligerent dwarf, "since you are so full of it."
Passepout was about to reply with a similarly discourteous remark about the dwarf's body odor when he heard the approach of footsteps in the brush.
"Quiet!" the thespian whispered, then, indicating a break in the shrubbery, ordered, "Let's hide here."
The fat thespian and the foul-odored dwarf crammed into the small break in the foliage that, despite the mutual discomfort of the two explorers, nevertheless managed to safely hide their combined bulk while providing them with a clear line of vision at the source of the overheard footsteps.
"Look!" Grumby ordered.
"Hush!" Passepout replied.
Walking along the path they had taken no less than seconds before were several lizard men. Obviously native to the jungle, the four in the lead were at least ten feet tall, with tiny scales covering their bare, olive-green torsos they trudged along on talon-clawed feet. They were carrying what appeared to be the appendages of a recently slaughtered thunder lizard, the meat still left on the bone for the upcoming meal causing their razor-toothed mouths to water. Bringing up the rear was the runt of the litter, only six feet tall, who was struggling with the silvery-gray hide of the recently slaughtered prey.
"Lizard men," Passepout whispered to his cramped companion of the moment.
"Kinda funny-lookin', though," Grumby responded in a similar tone. "Where are their tails?"
Passepout, ignoring the dwarfs question, whispered as the hunters passed, "I bet we could use that hide to both seal the rupture in the hull and reflect the sun's rays upward to keep the air hot in the sailbag itself."
Grumby couldn't control himself, and started to laugh. "I've never heard such rubbish," the dwarf howled.
The runt of the lizard men stopped in his tracks and, without notifying his brethren but still bearing the skin, returned to the spot he thought he heard the laughter coming from.
Both the dwarf and the thespian hushed. Unfortunately, Passepout had to sneeze and couldn't hold it any longer. "Atchoo!" he roared, scaring the native, who dropped the thunder lizard's skin and took off after his comrades.
"Well, that was easy enough," the thespian commented.
"Oh, yeah," the dwarf retorted. "I bet he's just gone to bring back company."
Grumby was right, and by the time the two novice explorers, the thunder lizard's skin carried between them, could see the inflated sailbag floating above the plateau clearing before them, they could hear the footsteps of the lizard hunter and his buddies in hot pursuit.
The incline of the terrain, the humid climate, the bulky lizard hide, and the less-than-athletic physiques of both Grumby and Passepout all succeeded in slowing the duo. With the balloon in sight and with one last thicket blocking their way back to the ship, the lizard men had almost caught up with them.
Rumble! Rumble!
The ground beneath them began to shake, and Grumby and Passepout were pitched forward into the clearing.
Barooooom!
The humid mists that enshrouded the plateau instantaneously cleared as the volcano above started to erupt, spewing flames, molten rock, and clouds of ash down the mountainside.
Volo leaned over the side of the ship to help Passepout aboard. "Back in the nick of time," Volo gratefully professed.
"Hope so," the out-of-breath thespian replied. "The lizard skin… we can use it to stop the hole…"
"Perfect," Volo answered. "Curtis, take the skin and seal the hatch above where the rupture is."
"Skin… shiny side up," Passepout panted.
"As he says," Volo ordered. "Grumby take the helm, and get us out of here!"
"Aye, aye, you…" the dwarf replied, mumbling an inaudible curse.
In the time it took for the patch to be fixed in place and for Grumby to take the helm, the tailless lizard men, having regained their balance after the initial tremor, broke into the clearing.
"Take off now!" Passepout yelled.
… and the Minnow, with Grumby at the helm, responded, leaving the plateau surface, which was quickly cracking in two, volcanic fissures reaching out from the spot where the first geyser had appeared.
Looking down at the plateau below, Volo noticed the scrambling forms of the lizard men, who were trying to avoid falling into the recently formed crevices. "Who are they?" he asked his quickly recovering companion.
"The owners of the thunder lizard's skin that we borrowed," Passepout replied.
"Borrowed?"
"In a manner of speaking," the thespian answered. "It's not like we stole it or anything. The runt dropped it, and we appropriated it."
"I see," the master traveler replied, looking back at the plateau's surface. "You mean the smallest one of the group-the one who is only now sprouting wings to join the others, who are flying after us."