Part 51 (1/2)
Bigley looked at him in rather a curious way; and as I divined what he meant I glanced at the two points which projected and formed the bay, and saw that they were being swept by the waves to such an extent that it would have been madness to attempt to get round either wading or swimming.
”Yes,” said my father, speaking as if someone had made this remark to him, ”it would be impossible to get round there. Come along, boys, help me down; I can't jump. Let's see for a place to climb the cliff.”
We helped him down by standing with our heads bent upon our arms, as if we were playing at ”_Saddle my nag_,” then he lowered himself till he could rest his feet upon our shoulders, and the rest was easy.
”We mustn't lose time,” he said, as he stood on the rough s.h.i.+ngle; ”the tide is running in very fast.”
It was quite true, and before long it would certainly completely fill the bay.
CHAPTER THIRTY.
A NIGHT ON THE ROCKS.
It was very satisfying in a case of emergency to have with us some one so old and staid and full of authority as my father, who set the example to us lads of hurrying close up to the cliff right at the head where the caverns ran in, and the rain-like water streamed down from the ferns and saxifrages to form a veil that now looked golden in the glow from the west.
”Hah!” said my father decisively, ”no standing here; and it would not be safe to go into the cave, the water rises six or seven feet here right up the cliff.”
It was so all round, as we plainly saw by the sea-weed that clung in the crevices, and the limpets and barnacles on the smooth places right above the heads of us boys, while every here and there at our feet we could see the common red sea creatures, which look like red jelly when the tide is down, and like daisyfied flowers when it is up.
”No stopping down here, boys,” cried my father. ”Now, then, where's the best place to climb the cliff? You two try one way, Chowne and I will go the other.”
We separated, and Bigley and I ran right round the steep wall, looking eagerly for a spot where foothold could be obtained, but it was generally overhanging, while elsewhere it rose up perfectly straight, so that a cat could not have run up it. Only in one place where there was a great crack did it seem possible to climb up any distance, and that crack seemed to afford the means of getting to a shelf of rock just beneath a tremendous overhanging ma.s.s, some fifty feet above where we stood.
This was very near the eastern arm of the little bay, where the tide was fretting and splas.h.i.+ng and gurgling among the rocks, and threatening every minute to come right up amongst the stones that filled the foot of the crack.
”Let's look more carefully as we go back,” said Bigley; and we did, but our only discovery was the entrance to another cave, which seemed to be quite a narrow doorway or slit behind some tall stones piled right above it, and shutting it from the sight of anyone walking by. In fact, we had missed it as we came.
”That might be a good place,” said Bigley; ”but it wouldn't be safe to try, for perhaps the sea fills it right up every tide.”
We went on back, looking eagerly upwards, and stumbling over the stones that strewed our path, till we met my father and Bob Chowne.
”Well,” said my father, in his short stern way, as if he were addressing his sailors on board s.h.i.+p. ”Report!”
”No way up to the top, sir,” said Bigley.
”No, father, none,” I said.
”No way?” said my father, and he frowned severely; ”and there is no way up whatever at our end. Boys, we shall have to venture out, and swim round the point.”
Bob Chowne shuddered, and I felt a curious sensation of dread creeping over me which I tried to shake off.
”But there seems to be a way up to a shelf of rock, father,” I said; ”close there by the point.”
”Ah!” he cried.
”But no higher.”
”Never mind,” he said sharply. ”Go on first. Quick!”
It was quite necessary to be quick, for the water was already lapping among the stones at the foot of the c.h.i.n.k and mounting fast.