Part 24 (2/2)

”Yes, well, look at the way they are going along, they are on a journey, going somewhere, led by instinct, and I think when human beings find themselves having to fight for life they fall back on instinct, the mind of G.o.d comes to help them. Look at me. I believe I found that cache led by instinct and I would never have pulled through only instinct told me I would, somehow. G.o.d's mind told me.”

”Well, there's no saying,” said Raft.

”I don't want to leave here,” she went on, ”but I feel we ought to go.

The chances seem small, even if we find that bay; still, I feel we ought to go.”

”I'm feelin' the same way myself,” said Raft.

”Then we will go and the sooner we start the better.”

”I'm thinking of them porpoises,” said Raft.

”What about them?”

”Well, there's a saying they hug the sh.o.r.e pretty close if bad weather is coming. It's fine to-day, but I've a feeling there's going to be another blow soon and maybe we'd better wait till it's over--maybe it's instinc',” he finished, looking round shyly.

The girl laughed. ”If you feel like that,” said she, ”we had certainly better wait. Maybe the porpoises were sent to tell us.”

”There's no saying,” replied he. They were seated on the rocks just where she had watched the great battle and far and near the ”sea cows”

were sunning themselves on the rocks whilst beyond the seal beach the penguins were drilling in long lines. Scarcely a breath of wind stirred and the sea lay calm like a sheet of dim blue gla.s.s to where the islands sat beneath the sky of summer.

But the islands had drawn closer since morning and the birds seemed busier than usual and more clamorous. To the eastward where the cliffs rose higher, guillemots had their home on the ledges of basalt and the wheezy bagpipe-like cry of them came in bursts every now and then as though they were angry about something, whilst the cry of the razorbills and the ”get-away, get-away” of the kittiwakes had a sharper note. The puffins alone were calm, swimming in coveys on the gla.s.sy water and leaving long ripples in their wake.

CHAPTER XXVI

THE GREAT WIND

The sun sank, broadened out and banded with mist beyond the Lizard Point, and before his upper limb had been swallowed by the rocks the business began with a blow from the hills.

Most winds come in gusts and pauses, this wind from the Infernal Regions came at first steady and warm, never ceasing, steadily growing like the thrust of an infinite sword driven with a rapidly increasing momentum and a murmur like the voice of Speed herself.

Raft and the girl saw that the sea elephants were herding up into the shelter of the cliffs and that the gulls had vanished as though they had never been.

And still the wind increased, its voice now a long monotonous cry, steadily sharpening, yet deepening, stern as the Voice of Wrath.

”It's blowing up,” said Raft, ”and there's more coming.”

Then over the cliff and undershot by the last rays of sunset came the clouds chased and harried by the wind, tearing before and torn by the teeth of the gale.

Raft and the girl stood watching till pebbles and rocks the size of coconuts began to fall on the beach blown over the cliff edge, till the sea, flat and milk-white, seemed to bend under the stress, till it would seem that the very islands would be blown away.

The girl felt light-headed and giddy as though the rush above had rarefied the air under the cliffs. Not a drop of rain fell, the wind held the sky and the whole world. It seemed loosed from some mysterious keeping never to be recaptured until it had blown the sea away and flattened the earth.

And still it increased.

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