Part 7 (1/2)
Then began a dismal argument, full of words and repet.i.tions but with few ideas, and from the trend of it the curious fact appeared that La Touche, the s.h.i.+p's grouser and dismal James, was taking the optimistical side, whilst Bompard, generally cheerful, was the pessimist.
La Touche's optimism was, perhaps, the outcome of fear. What they had gone through was nothing to the prospect of having to make a landing on that tremendous coast, simply because what they had gone through had come on them suddenly. This thing had to be faced in cold blood. The coward in La Touche refused to face it fully, refused to face the fact that with this swell and with all the chances of uncharted and unknown reefs and rocks the risk was appalling. He grew angry.
”Don't be a coward over it,” said he. That set Bompard off, and for a moment the girl thought they would have come to blows. Then it pa.s.sed and they were as friendly as before, just as though nothing had happened.
Their talk and the whole business had been conducted as though the girl were not there. In the few hours since daybreak, quarter deck and fo'c'sle had vanished. They had become welded into one community, all equal, and the lady was no longer the lady. There was no hint of disrespect, no hint of respect. They were all equal, equal sharers in the chances of the sea.
More, the s.e.x standard seemed to have vanished with the social. Nothing remained but the human, for that is the rule with the open boat at sea.
When they lowered the sail for screening purposes, when they raised it again, it was all the same, for the human level is above all little things.
Towards noon and with the coast now closer and well-defined, La Touche sighted something ahead. It was a rock, high and pointed like a black spire protruding from the sea and standing there like an outpost of the land.
”Had we better give it a wide berth?” asked La Touche. ”Maybe there's more near it.”
”The sea is running smooth enough by it,” said Bompard. ”I don't see breakers, and we don't draw anything to speak of.” He held on.
The sun was shewing through breaks in the high clouds and its light fell on the water and the rock, pied with roosting guillemots. As the boat drew near the guillemots gave tongue. The sound came against the wind fierce and complaining, antagonistic like the voice of loneliness crying out against them and telling them to be gone--be gone--be gone!
Cleo, as they pa.s.sed, saw the green water sliding up and falling from the polished black rock surface. The sight seemed to bring the hostile coast leagues nearer and the bagpipe crying of the guillemots as it died away behind them seemed a barrier pa.s.sed, never to be re-crossed.
CHAPTER VII
THE COAST
And now, away at sea and leagues from the coast they were approaching, vast islands disclosed themselves suddenly through the sea haze, standing like giants waist deep in the ocean, whilst the coast itself with its cliffs and rocks of black basalt and dolerite shewed clear, extraordinarily clear, with every detail defined in the sunlight, from the rifts in the basalt to the gulls blowing about in legions and the great sea-geese hovering and fis.h.i.+ng.
The coast was ferocious, and the whole country from the sea foam to the foothills looked tumbled and new, with the newness of infinite antiquity. The last thunders of creation seemed scarcely to have died away, the last throe scarcely to have ceased, leaving million-ton rock cast on rock and the new, shear-cut cliffs spitting back their first taste of the bitter sea.
”There is nowhere to land,” said the girl. She was shuddering as a dog shudders when overstrung.
”Ay, it's a brute beast of a place,” said Bompard, ”well, we must nose along on the lookout. There's no coast but hasn't some landing-place where a boat can push in. Y'see it's not like a s.h.i.+p. A boat can go where a s.h.i.+p can't.”
He s.h.i.+fted the helm a bit, keeping the coast parallel to them on the starboard side.
”Might those islands be better to go to?” asked she, ”they couldn't be worse than that.”
La Touche suddenly grew excited. ”Bon Dieu,” cried he, ”what a thing to be saying! Those islands, nothing but rocks--nothing but rocks. Here there is land, at all events, good land one can put one's foot on; out there there's nothing but rocks. Rather than go out there I would swim ash.o.r.e--I would--”
”Oh, close up,” said Bompard, ”don't talk about swimming--maybe you'll have to.”
”One can always drown,” said La Touche.
It was Bompard who next broke the silence.
”I've been over cliffs worse than those, for gulls eggs,” said he, ”take one coast with another, coasts are pretty much the same, you get bad bits and easy bits, that is all.”