Part 27 (1/2)

She felt as a tiny tired child feels when caught up and carried by its mother, and carrying her so he strode on, cursing himself for not having carried her before.

It was a three-mile journey to that roughness on the cliff and as he drew near he saw that they were saved, at least for the time.

The rock broke here in ledges like steps and twenty feet up and well beyond tide mark ran a little plateau some ten or twelve feet broad.

She saw it as well as he and filled with new strength she cried out to be set down.

”Stay easy,” said Raft. ”It's easier to carry the bundle with you on my shoulder, you ain't no weight.”

Then when he reached the steps:

”Done it b'G.o.d,” said he.

He dropped the bundle and harpoon, and, lifting her, set her feet on the basalt steps.

”Can you climb it?” asked he.

Without a word she climbed and sitting on the little plateau looked down on him.

Then he followed with the things and took his seat beside her. They sat for a while without a word, the bare rocks and the grey sea before them.

A great rock out at sea, pierced and arched like the frame work of a door, shewed through its opening the sea beyond. Gulls flew round it and their eternal complaint came on the wind blowing, still lightly, from the north.

Raft seemed absorbed in thought.

Then he said: ”It won't be high water until gettin' on for dark. We'd better stick here the night anyhow and get the low tide to-morrow. But there's time for me now to get to that next shoulder and see what's beyond, it's a matter of four miles there maybe and four miles back.”

”I'll go with you,” said she, ”I'm stronger now.”

”No, you stick here,” said he. ”There's no call for two to go. You'll want your strength for the morning.”

”Only for you I wouldn't be here,” said she.

”Well, maybe you wouldn't,” said Raft. ”It's as well I was along with you, but you ain't no weight--no more than a kitten. I never thought you were as bad as that or I'd have lifted you miles back.”

”Aren't you tired?” she asked.

”Me--oh, no, not more than a bit stiff in the arm.” He stretched his left arm out. Then he looked at the bundle.

”You don't want nothing to eat just yet?” asked he.

”Not till you come back,” she answered. ”I'll watch you from here.”

He scrambled down, picked up the harpoon which he had left on the rocks and then looked up and nodded to her.

”I'll keep in sight,” said he. Then he started.

She watched his great figure as it went, harpoon in hand, growing smaller and smaller, till, now, she could have covered it with her thumb nail. As the distance increased it seemed to go slower and the great black cliffs to grow higher.