Cormorant Crag Part 11

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"Yes, but it can't be," said Vince. "Look down there to the left, how the tide's rus.h.i.+ng in. Looks as if a boat couldn't live in it a moment."

"And if the tide rushes in boiling like that, there must be a way out.

Think there's a great hole right through under the island?"

"No; it looks deep and still there at the other end of the rocks, and-- yes, you can see from here if you stand up. Why, Ladle, old chap, it is running."

Vince had risen, taken hold of one of the jagged pieces of rock, stepped on to a point, and was gazing down to his left at the pent-in sea, which was rus.h.i.+ng through a narrow opening between two towering rocks, foaming, boiling, and with the waves leaping over each other, as if forced out by some gigantic power, but evidently hidden from the side of the sea by the great barrier stretched before them.

"I can't see anything," said Mike.

"Climb up a bit. Here--up above me."

Mike began to climb the rugged granite, and had just reached a position from whence he could stretch over and see the exit of the pent-in currents which glided round the little cove or bay, one strongly resembling the water-filled crater of some extinct volcano, when his left foot slipped from the little projection upon which he stood, and, in spite of the frantic s.n.a.t.c.h he made to save himself, he fell heavily upon Vince, driving him outward, while he himself dropped within the ridge, and for the moment it seemed as if Vince was to be sent rolling down the steep slope and over the edge of the precipice.

But the boy instinctively threw out his hands to clutch at anything to stop his downward progress, and his right came in contact with Mike's leg, gripping the trouser desperately, and the next moment he was hanging at the full extent of his arm upon the slope, his back against the rock, staring outward over the barrier at the sea, while Mike was also on his back, but head downward, with his knees bent over the strait ridge upon which they had so lately been standing.

For quite a minute they lay motionless, too much unnerved by the shock to attempt to alter their positions; while Vince felt that if the cloth by which he held so desperately gave way, nothing could save him, and he must go down headlong to the unseen dangers below.

There was another danger, too, for which he waited with his heart beating painfully. At any moment he felt that he might drag his companion over to destruction, and the thought flashed through his brain, ought he to leave go?

This idea stirred him to action, and he made a vain effort to find rest for his heels; but they only glided over the rock, try how he would to find one of the little shelf-like openings formed between the blocks, which often lay like huge courses of quarried stone.

Then, as he hung there breathing heavily, he found his voice:

"Mike!" he shouted; and the answer came in a smothered tone from the other slope of the steep ridge.

"Hullo!"

"Can you help me?"

"No: can't move; if I do you'll pull me over."

There was a terrible silence for what seemed to be minutes, but they were moments of the briefest, before Vince spoke again.

"Can you hold on?"

Silence, broken by a peculiar rustling, and then Mike said: "I think so.

I've got my hand wedged in a crack; but I can't hold on long with my head down like this. Look sharp! Climb up."

"Look sharp--climb up!" muttered Vince, as, raising his left hand, which had been holding on to a projection in the rock at his side, he reached up, and, trying desperately, he managed to get hold of the doubled-over fold at the bottom of his companion's trouser, cramping his fingers over it, and getting a second good hold.

It does not seem much to read, but it took a good deal of his force out of him, and he lay still, panting.

"Pray look sharp," came from the other side.

"Yes. Hold on," cried Vince, as a horrible sensation began creeping through him, which he felt was preparatory to losing his nerve and falling: "I'm going to turn over."

"No, no--don't," came faintly. "I can't hold on."

"You must!" shouted Vince fiercely. "Now!"

Clutching desperately at the frail cloth, he gave himself a violent wrench and rolled himself right over upon his face, searching quickly with his toes for some support, and feeling them glide over the surface again and again, till a peculiar sensation of blindness began to attack him. Then a thrill of satisfaction ran through his nerves, for one boot toe glided into the fault between two blocks, and the tension upon his muscles was at once relieved.

"I can't help it," came faintly to his ears. "You're dragging me over.

Help! help!"

_Croak_! came in a hoa.r.s.e, barking note, and the great raven floated across them not a dozen feet above their heads.

"All right!" cried Vince. "I can manage now." And he felt about with his other foot, found a projection, and having now two resting-places for his feet, one higher than the other, he cautiously drew himself up, inch by inch, till his chin was level with his hands, when, taking a deep, long breath, he forced his toe well against the rock, trusting to a slight projection; and, calling to Mike to try and hold on, he made a quick s.n.a.t.c.h with one hand at the lad's leg a foot higher, but failed to get a good grasp, his hand gliding down the leg, and Mike uttered a wild cry.

For a moment Vince felt that he must fall, but in his desperation his teeth closed on the cloth beneath him, checking his downward progress; and as his feet sc.r.a.ped over the rock in his efforts to find fresh hold, he found his cliff-climbing had borne its fruits by hardening the muscles of his arms. How he hardly knew, he managed to get hand over hand upon Mike's leg, till he drew himself above the ridge, and in his last effort he fell over, dragging his companion with him, so that they rolled together down the inner slope twenty or thirty feet, till a block checked their progress.

Just then, as they lay scratched and panting, there was a darkening of the air, the soft whis.h.i.+ng of wings, and the raven dropped on the big pinnacle close at hand, to utter its hoa.r.s.e, barking croak as it gazed wickedly at them with first one and then the other eye.

"Ha! ha! ha!" laughed Mike, in a peculiarly hysterical tone; "wouldn't you like it? But not this time, old fellow. Oh, don't I wish I had a stone!"

The same memory had come to both, as they lay breathless and exhausted, of seeing this bird or one of its relatives rise from below the cliff edge one day as they approached; and, looking down, they saw upon a ledge, where it had fallen, a dead lamb, upon which the great ill-omened bird had been making a meal.

"Hurt?" said Vince at last, as he sat up and examined his clothes for tears.

"Hurt! why, of course I am. I gave my head such a whack against one of the stones.--Are you?"

"No," said Vince, making an effort to laugh at the danger from which he had escaped. "I say, though, your trousers are made of better cloth than mine."

"Trousers!" said Mike sourly: "you've nearly torn the flesh off my bones. You did get hold of a bit of skin with your teeth, only I flinched and got it away. I say, though--"

"Well? What?" said Vince; for the other stopped. "That's the way down to the Scraw; but you needn't have been in such a hurry to go."

Vince shuddered in spite of his self-control. "I wonder," he said softly, "whether it's deep water underneath or rocks?"

"I don't know that it matters," was the reply. "If it had been water you couldn't have swum in such a whirlpool as it seems to be. So you might just as well have been killed on the rocks. But oh! I say Cinder, don't talk about it."

The boy's face grew convulsed, and he looked so horrified that Vince cried eagerly--

"Here, I say, don't take it like that. It was not so bad as we thought.

It wouldn't have happened if you'd held tight instead of blundering on to me."

"Let's talk about something else," said Mike, trying to master his feelings.

"All right. About that cove. You see the water comes rus.h.i.+ng in at one side and goes out at the other, and I daresay when the tide turns it goes the other way. I should like to get right down to it, so as to see the water close to."

Mike shuddered. "You won't try again, will you?" he said.

"Try again? Yes. Why not? Why, we might come a million times and never slip again."

"Yes," said Mike, but rather shrinkingly. "Shall we go back home now?"

"No; not till we've had another good look down at the place. Here--hi!

Cormorant Crag Part 11

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Cormorant Crag Part 11 summary

You're reading Cormorant Crag Part 11. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: George Manville Fenn already has 608 views.

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