Home > Authors Index > George Manville Fenn > Devon Boys: A Tale of the North Shore > This page
Devon Boys: A Tale of the North Shore, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
||
Chapter 30. A Night On The Rocks |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ 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 mass, some fifty feet above where we stood. This was very near the eastern arm of the little bay, where the tide was fretting and splashing 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 ship. "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 chink and mounting fast. "Yes, I see," said my father. "There! Lose no time. Up with you, Uggleston. You next, Chowne. Climb your best, boys, and help one another." The climb was awkward and steep, but possible, and by one giving another a back and then crouching on some ledge and holding down his hand to the others, we got on up and up, till the big ledge was reached, and proved to be some twenty feet long by about nine broad in the middle, but going off to nothing at either end, while it went in right under a tremendous projecting portion of the cliff, that looked as if it would crumble down and crush us at any moment. "Hah!" ejaculated my father breathlessly, as he partly dragged himself up, and was partly dragged by us on to the shelf. "What a place! Why, we must be at least eighty feet above the shingle." "As much as that, father?" "Yes, my boy; so mind all of you. No rolling off. Now, then, is there any other way of getting higher, and so on to the slope?" A very few minutes' examination satisfied him that there was none. "No; only a fly could get up there, boys," he said merrily. "Well, we are safe and quite comfortable. This will be another adventure for you. Why, my lads, I shall never have the heart to scold you for getting into scrapes after leading you into this one. It is easier to get into trouble than out." "Shall we have to stay here very long, father?" I said. "Only all night, my boys, so we must make ourselves as comfortable as we can. We shall have to divide ourselves into two watches and make the best of it. Certainly we shall not be able to climb down till daylight to-morrow morning." "What! Do you mean for us to go to sleep in turns?" "Or sit up, which you like, my boys," he said quietly. "And no very great hardship either. You have not touched upon our greatest difficulty." "What's that, sir?" said Bob. "Nothing to eat, my boy, and we are all very hungry." "Oh!" groaned Bob; and if ever the face of boy suggested that he had just taken medicine, it was Bob Chowne's then. "Worse disasters at sea, my lads; we shall not hurt. The worst is that people at our homes will not know what we know, and be very much troubled about us. If the boat is picked up they will fear the worst. For my part, I hope it will not be found." "But are we safe, sir?" said Bob, with tribulation in his voice. "Perfectly, my lad, so long as you don't roll off the ledge, which, of course, you will not do. There, boys, let's look on the bright side of it all, and be very thankful that we have reached so comfortable a haven. Make the best of it, and think you are on an uninhabited island waiting for rescue to come, with the pleasant knowledge that it won't be long." "Oh, I don't mind," I said. "Nor I," cried Bigley. "I rather like it," said Bob, with a very physicky face. "Then, choose your places, boys," said my father, "and we'll sit and sing and tell stories, after we have grown tired of watching the glorious sunset; for, my lads, while we are talking see what a magnificent sea and sky are spread before you." We looked out from our niche under the stony canopy, to see that the sky was one blaze of orange, and gold, and fiery red, which in turn seemed to stain the sea, as if it was all liquid topaz, and sapphire, and amethyst, like the old jewels that had belonged to my mother, and which I had sometimes seen in my father's desk. Nothing, I suppose, could have been more lovely, nothing more grand. If we looked to the left, the rocky cliff was all glow hero, all dark purple shadow there, and the clustering oaks that ran right up to the top were as if they were golden green. If we looked to the right, the cliffs seemed as if on fire where the rock was bare, and as our eyes fell to where the tide was coming in, the waves, as they curled over, were burnished, and flashed and glowed like liquid fire. It was all grand in the extreme, but somehow I felt, as did Bob and Bigley, that a well-spread tea-table with some hot fried ham and some eggs, with new bread, would have been worth it all. I am almost ashamed to put this down, but my companions confided their feelings to me afterwards, and it is perfectly true. By degrees the bright colours on the sea and overspreading the sky faded out, and all grew dark, save where there was a glow in the north. The stars had come out bright and clear, and covered the sky like so many points of light looking down at themselves in the mirror-like sea. The tide came up fast, and as the waves heaved and swayed and ran in, it seemed as if they were sweeping before them myriads and myriads of stars, for the water was covered with light, some being the reflections from the sky, others the curious little specks that we used to see in the water in warm weather. We sat and talked and lay close to the edge to watch the waves come sweeping in more and more, till the little bay was covered and the tide rose over the outlying rock, the water sounding wild and strange as it washed, and splashed, and sighed, and sucked in amongst the stones. Then, by slow degrees, as we gazed down we found how necessary it had been for us to climb up to our perch, for the tide rose and rose, higher and higher, till it must have been seven or eight feet up the rocks below us; and now it was that we listened with a peculiar creeping sensation to the swell, as it rolled in and evidently right up into the caves which we had seen. "Why, those places must go a long way into the cliffs," said my father as we listened. "Hark at that." It was a curious creepy sound of hissing and roaring, as if there were strange wild beasts right in amongst the windings of the cave, and they had become angry with the sea for intruding in their domain. "Seals!" said Bob Chowne decisively. "No," said my father, "it is only the imprisoned air escaping from some of the cracks and crevices into which it is driven by the sea. Why, boys, those caves must be very large, or at all events they go in a long way. You ought to explore them some day at low water. Warm enough?" We all declared that we were, and sat gazing out at the soft transparent darkness overhanging the sea, which was wonderfully smooth now, in spite of the soft western breeze that was blowing; and at last the silence seemed to have become perfectly profound. So silent were we that every one started as my father said suddenly: "Look here, boys, suppose I tell you a story." The proposal was received with acclamation, and he lay back against the cliff and related to us one of his old sea-going experiences, to the very great delight of all. _ |
||