CHAPTER VIII

BALLINTAGGART CAVE

Some weeks passed over uneventfully. May was almost ended, and June

was coming in with its cloudless skies and long, clear twilights.

Poor Norah, during those days, had many secret pangs of grief and

jealousy as she watched the growing friendship between Manus and

Lanty Hogan. In London she and Manus had been the closest

companions, sharing all each other's possessions and amusements, but

now Norah was reluctantly driven to perceive that her company no

longer sufficed to content Manus, and that she could not hope to

compete against Lanty's greater attractions. There were few mornings

indeed on which Lanty's shock head did not make its appearance at the

back door soon after breakfast, and then it would be:

"Sure now, 'tis a grand marnin' for the fishin', Masther Manus,

afther the rain, an' there'll be a great rise on the trout intirely.

'Deed now, I wudn't wondher but we'd be gettin' the full o' the

basket."

Or else:

"Glory be to goodness, Masther Manus, there's a schull o' mackarel in

the bay, the say's shtiff wid 'em, it's jostlin' one another out o'

the wather they is, an' whin we've had our divarsion wid thim theer

boys, we might have a thry for a few cormorants' eggs, if yer honour

had a mind for't. The say's that calm, the coracle wud float us in

amongst the rocks as aisy as if 'twas a duck settin' on a horse-pond."

Norah shed a few tears in secret sometimes when she had watched her

brother and his ally go off on one of these expeditions, whilst she

was left behind to find what amusement she could for herself. She

took herself severely to task, like a loyal little soul as she was,

for grudging Manus any pleasure merely because she could have no part

in it; and when Manus came home at night, bringing back his trophies

and brimming over with accounts of his own and Lanty's adventures,

Norah was nearly as proud and delighted as he was himself. Yet that

did not hinder her from experiencing the same feelings of loneliness

and desertion the next time Manus and Lanty went off fishing or

sailing together.

Anstace had her doubts as to whether Lanty's constant companionship

was likely to be of benefit to Manus. She spoke to Roderick on the

subject, but he laughed her fears away.

"You don't expect to keep a boy of Manus's age about the house like a

tame cat, do you? Nonsense, let him go about with that red-headed

young scamp as much as he likes, and learn to row and fish and climb

the rocks. I only wish I'd had the same chance when I was his age,

I'd be twice the man that I am now."

A glance of loving admiration from Anstace said plainly that in her

estimation Roderick was already perfect, and could not possibly have

been improved upon. Roderick was her special brother, as Manus was

Norah's. Concerning Lanty, however, she remained of the same opinion

as before, though she attempted no further remonstrance.

One bright, sunny afternoon Lanty appeared at the kitchen door with

an air of unusual mystery.

"Whisht, Masther Manus," he said, "there's bin spring tides this

couple o' days past, an' the say's that smooth as ye'd not see't

twiced in the twal' month, no, nor maybe wanst. If you an' me was to

be havin' that little adventure wid the sales in Ballintaggart Cave,

that we've talked of, 'twud be the day for't an' no mistake."

Manus hesitated. "I told Mr. Roderick about it, Lanty, and he said

he'd come with us, whatever day we went, with his gun and try a shot.

He didn't think it would be safe for you and me to tackle the seals

by ourselves, with nothing but clubs."

"'Tis himself that knows, that niver was next nor nigh a sale

before," Lanty muttered under his breath. Aloud he said, "An' wudn't

his honour come wid us this day, it's no finer one we'll be gettin'?"

"He and Miss Anstace have driven into Ballyfin, you see, and they

won't be home till evening."

"Faix thin, that's the chanst for us," said Lanty, with a knowing

look. "We'll take the gun an' be off wid ourselves, unbeknownst.

His honour can't say as we wasn't well armed, anyways, an' if we get

killin' of a sale, I'll be bound it's not displazed he'll be, but

quite contrary."

Manus still hesitated; he had some qualms as to whether he ought to

venture on the enterprise in Roderick's absence, and without his

leave. But a visit to Ballintaggart Cave, famed as the resort of

seals, had been one of the most alluring schemes which Lanty had held

out to him. Manus knew that the cave could only be visited on rare

occasions--at extreme low tide, and only then when the state of the

weather permitted--so that few even of the fishermen upon the coast

had ever entered it, and a chance once lost might not recur again.

"All right, I'll come," he said briefly, and Lanty intimated his

satisfaction by a nod.

"We'll have no need to be burnin' daylight over the job," he said.

"Wanst the tide turns 'twill be hurry out an' no mistake. If ye'll

be at Portkerin in half an hour, Masther Manus, wid the gun, I'll

meet ye there wid the oars an' all else we'll be needin'."

Neither Lanty nor Manus had any idea that there had been a listener

to their colloquy. The dairy window was close to where they stood,

screened and overshadowed by a clump of tall shrubs that grew outside

it, and Norah had been standing just within. She had had no

intention of playing eavesdropper, but it had never occurred to her

that Manus and Lanty could have anything to say to each other which

it was not open to all the rest of the family to listen to. When

they separated, however, and she heard Lanty's footsteps dying away

outside, whilst Manus ran whistling into the house and upstairs, a

sudden wild desire took possession of her. She too had heard of the

wondrous, seal-tenanted cave. Why should not she be one of the party

about to visit it? If she were to beg Manus to take her with him she

would only meet with a contemptuous refusal, she knew that well

enough; but if she were down upon the shore when they were starting,

perhaps she might prevail upon them to let her go too. Deep down in

Norah's heart, perhaps, besides her desire to see the cave, there was

the thought that, if she were to prove herself a competent comrade

upon the present occasion, Manus might not disdain her company

occasionally in the future on his fishing and boating excursions.

Poor Norah's aspirations were very humble; all she desired was to

accompany Manus, much as a faithful dog accompanies his master, to

watch him whilst he fished, or sit in the boat which he rowed, and

she hoped to be able to convince him that the mere fact of being a

girl did not of necessity disqualify her from such lowly

participation in his pursuits.

She knew that Lanty kept his boat at Portkerin, a little cove about

half a mile away, and having made her escape out of the house unseen,

Norah raced thither at flying speed. A break-neck track, hardly to

be called a path, trodden only by the feet of the fisherfolk, led

down from the cliffs to the strip of sandy beach below, on which two

or three coracles were lying, keel upwards, well above high-water

mark.

When Manus and Lanty came down the track together half an hour

later--Manus walking first, and feeling himself of no small

consequence with Roderick's gun over his shoulder and a well-filled

cartridge-pouch slung round him--their astonishment was great at

finding Norah in the cove before them, a solitary little figure

sitting on a block of gray stone, where the sand and the bent--the

coarse sea-grass--met.

"Hullo, Norah, whatever are you doing here, sitting by yourself like

a thingummy in the wilderness?" was Manus's greeting.

Norah sprang to her feet, breathlessly eager.

"I want to go to Ballintaggart Cave with you," she cried. "I heard

you and Lanty settling to go, Manus; I was behind you in the dairy,

and I ran all the way to be here before you. Do let me come!"

"Rubbish!" said Manus loftily. "Do you suppose you're fit to go

after seals? A fine funk you'd be in when it came to going into the

cave, and you'd scream if the gun were fired."

"I should not," Norah retorted indignantly. "I was standing close to

Roderick when he shot a magpie the other day, and I didn't scream; I

didn't even put my fingers in my ears, and I don't mind going into

dark places either."

"An' why shouldn't she come if she's minded for't, the darlin' young

leddy?" broke in Lanty. "Afeard? Troth, not she, an' her an O'Brien

born! Yis, come along, Miss Norah, an' I'll take care of ye, niver

fear."

Norah repaid his championship of her cause by a look of the most

rapturous gratitude. Lanty hoisted the coracle on to his back, and

started off towards the sea with it, looking to the two children, as

they followed him, very much like a gigantic black beetle reared upon

its hind-legs. Norah essayed to make herself useful by bringing the

oars, which Lanty had been obliged to lay down, along with her, but

as she carried them awkwardly, crosswise in her arms, not

sailor-fashion over her shoulder, she provoked some uncomplimentary

remarks about the "butter-fingeredness" of girls from Manus, who

stalked airily along, only carrying the gun. Manus, to say the

truth, was in a somewhat ungracious mood, for it seemed to him that

this visit to the seals' cave would not appear at all as tremendous a

feat to have achieved if it became known that his younger sister had

accompanied him. However, by the time the coracle was launched, and

they were floating out upon the deep, green water, his ill-humour had

evaporated, and he was laughing and chatting gaily with Lanty.

There were only seats for the two rowers in the frail little craft.

Norah had to sit down flat in the stern, with her feet straight out

in front of her, and her head not far above the gunwale. At first

she could not help feeling some internal tremors as the coracle

skimmed the sea, its very buoyancy, as it topped the waves and slid

down into the hollows between them, giving it a peculiar dancing

motion which was painfully suggestive of instability. It was

somewhat alarming, too, to look at the tarred canvas stretched over

the rude wooden framework, and to reflect that it was all that

separated her from the deep sea all round, and that the smallest

injury, a pin-prick even, would bring the salt water gurgling in.

However, after a few minutes, finding that the coracle, bob as it

might upon the waves, showed no inclination to upset, Norah's fears

subsided, and she even began to enjoy the lapping of the wavelets so

close beside her, and to gaze up in awe at the black cliffs that

towered above their heads, and which looked so much loftier from

below than when they were viewed from the top.

They hed three miles to row to the cave of Ballintaggart, and it took

them the best part of an hour to accomplish it. They passed Moyross

Abbey on the way, with its little glen wooded to the water's edge,

and the house standing high on the cliff above. A little farther on

Lanty pointed out to Norah the ironwork pier which Mr. O'Brien had

constructed years before for the shipping of the ore from his mine.

It jutted out into the sea, protected from the great Atlantic rollers

by a long wall of rock, which seemed as though it had been specially

designed by nature for a breakwater. A zigzag track had been cut out

of the face of the cliff, and the trollies ran down it to discharge

their loads into the holds of the ships lying at the pier below.

No ship was in waiting there now, and an ugly scowl came upon Lanty's

face as he looked over at the scarped rocks and the slender framework

of the pier.

"The curse o' the crows on M'Bain, an' the notions he's puttin' in

th' ould masther's head," he muttered. "'Tis a cliver pair they

thinks themselves, but maybe the boys might larn them that they was

cliverer yet."

Norah remembered that she had overheard Roderick speaking very

gravely to Anstace a few days ago about the disagreement between Mr.

O'Brien and the miners, concerning the innovations introduced by the

new manager. "I fear there will be bad work before all is over," he

had said. No questioning on her part or Manus's could elicit

anything more from Lanty, however.

"'Twasn't manin' anythin' in partic'lar he was, but just a manner o'

spakin'!" he declared, and relapsed into a dogged silence.

Ballintaggart Cave, which they reached at length, was situated at the

end of a narrow inlet, a fissure in the cliffs, guarded by a ridge of

rocks which showed above the water like a row of jagged teeth, and

round which the sea swirled and foamed. It required extreme care to

guide the coracle through the narrow passage, for a touch from the

rocks on either hand would have ripped the canvas open as with a

knife. Once within the reef, however, they floated in calm water in

a tiny natural harbour. Before them was a low, dark opening--the

entrance to the cave--which was generally covered by the sea,

preventing any access to the interior. Now, however, the sea had

receded sufficiently to leave bare not only the mouth of the cave,

but also a narrow strip of firm, white sand, which sloped to the

water's edge.

Lanty leaped overboard, and dragged the coracle up this little strand

by main force, lifting Norah out carefully afterwards. He stooped

and examined the sand, and pointed with much exultation to tracks

that led upwards into the darkness of the cave.

"Thim theer boys is at home, sure enough," he whispered. "'Twill be

a poor thing an' we don't give an account o' wan or two o' thim. The

tide's flowin' too," he went on, looking critically at the margin of

the sand. "We'll need to hurry ourselves an' we wudn't be wantin' to

swim out."

The preparations for the adventure were speedily made. Lanty

produced a torch made of pieces of split bog-wood tied together and

saturated with inflammable oil, and a few chips besides, similarly

soaked, which he stuck in his hat, and signed to Manus to stick into

his. Then, still in silence, he placed two cartridges in the breech

of Manus's gun and handed it back to him.

"Kape close to me, an' don't fire till I give the word," he

whispered. "Miss Norah, will ye shtop out here an' wait for us while

we go in?"

But no, Norah was determined to prove her courage and go through with

the adventure to the bitter end. Perhaps, if the truth had been

told, she was not very willing to be left alone on that narrow strip

of sand between the deep sea and the lofty cliffs that towered sheer

above her. She preferred to face even the darkness of the cave, and

the possibility of a rush of angry seals, so that she had at least

living companionship. None the less, however, her heart beat thick

and fast as she followed Lanty and Manus up to the low archway which

gave access to the seals' retreat.

Lanty went first, the blazing torch in his left hand, a short

bludgeon, loaded at the end with lead, in his right. There was a

yard or two of slimy passage and then the cave opened out into an

underground chamber of considerable extent, floored with the same

white sand that composed the strand outside. Lanty stooped and

examined it closely with his torch. The tracks were still visible,

leading upwards into the innermost recesses of the cave. Without

speaking a word he pushed Norah back till she stood in a sort of

recess just within the arch by which they had entered, and lighting

one of the bog-wood chips that adorned his own hat, he stuck it in

hers.

"Stand ye theer, Miss Norah, an' don't stir a ha'porth," lie

whispered, with his mouth close to her ear. "'Tis the doore they'll

make for, an' ye're safe out o' their road. Masther Manus an' me

we'll folly on."

Norah stood still as she was bidden, and watched the light of Lanty's

torch growing gradually more and more distant till it showed only

like a twinkling star far up within the cavern. A moment later it

was gone altogether, and Norah was left alone, the strange candle in

her hat throwing a feeble radiance on the yellow sea-weed that

clothed the rock beside her, and on the sand at her feet. She could

have screamed aloud, merely for the relief of hearing her own voice

in the silence that surrounded her, but the fear of incurring Manus's

contempt kept her from uttering a sound, and she stood motionless,

clutching the long tangles of sea-weed in her hands as if even their

cold and clammy touch gave a certain sense of comfort and support.

Lanty and Manus meanwhile were making their way slowly and with much

difficulty up into the interior of the cave. The firm, white sand

with which it was floored at its mouth soon gave place to rocky

debris and great boulders, over which they had to clamber, as best

they could, by the uncertain light of the torch. As they proceeded,

the cave gradually narrowed till it formed a mere passage a hundred

yards or more in length, and so low that they had to bend nearly

double to avoid striking their heads against the roof. It was

necessary to advance with extreme caution here, since they might at

any moment encounter a charge of infuriated seals, for seals, though

in general most peaceful and inoffensive animals, yet become savage

if they are brought to bay.

The passage opened out, as Lanty, who had visited the cave once

before, knew, into a circular rocky chamber known as the "Seals'

Parlour", and here at last they found their quarry. A large male

seal, but fortunately for them only one, the rest of the herd having

made their way out again before their visit, was lying at his ease

upon a slab of rock. He gazed for a moment with a calm, sage air of

wonderment at his unexpected and unwelcome visitors, then with a

heavy flop he slipped from his couch and made, with an awkward,

shuffling gait, for the passage they had just come by, the only way

of escape to the sea.

"Fire, Masther Manus, fire!" shouted Lanty, and Manus, bringing his

gun up to his shoulder and aiming as well as his excitement would

permit, pulled the trigger. There was a flash, a deafening bang and

cloud of smoke, and before the noise had died away the seal charged

straight for Manus, between whose legs it sought to pass. Manus was

swept off his feet by the rush, and fell right before the seal, which

gripped him fiercely by the arm as he lay.

So close were boy and animal together that it was impossible to

strike at one without risk of injuring the other. Lanty, all the

same, seeing the extremity of Manus's danger, whirled his club round

his head and brought it down with such terrific force that the seal

rolled, over, dead, with its skull shattered like an egg-shell.

Manus scrambled to his feet again, hugely frightened but unhurt; the

seal happily had only caught the sleeve of his jacket, but the long

rent which its tusks had made showed plainly what the result would

have been if they had closed upon the flesh of his arm.

"Glory be to goodness, Masther Manus, but that might ha' been the

mischief's own job!" panted Lanty, breathless between terror and the

exertion that he had just made; "but sure what matther, so that the

ould ruffin hasn't ye desthroyed."

"Oh, I'm all right!" said Manus proudly, beginning to feel himself

something of a hero as he looked at his fallen foe. "All the same I

should have been in Queer Street only for you, Lanty. And now,

however are we going to get the brute along?"

This, indeed, seemed a task not very easy to accomplish, for the seal

was nearly as heavy as a well-grown sheep, and considerably longer,

whilst its slippery, glossy hide made it extremely difficult to catch

hold of. Lanty, however, giving the torch to Manus, went vigorously

to work to convey it back over the rough road by which they had come,

alternately dragging and shoving the heavy carcass over the rocks

which impeded their course.

To Norah, meanwhile, the leaden moments had seemed like hours as they

crawled along, and she waited vainly to hear the sound of voices or

catch a glimmer of the returning torch. All sorts of horrible

fancies began to crowd into her brain. What if Manus and Lanty had

encountered a whole host of furious seals or even more ferocious

sea-monsters--for who could tell what terrible shapes and creatures

might dwell far up in the inmost recesses of the cave? They might be

lying wounded or dying somewhere far underground, where no one had

ever penetrated before, or perhaps they had lost their way in those

subterranean windings and passages, and were vainly trying to retrace

their steps. What if she were to be left there whilst the tide came

slowly creeping up over the strip of sand outside, and closed the

arch by which they had entered, prisoning her and the others within!

With trembling hands Norah groped upwards. The rock was covered with

sea-weed far above her head, as far as she could reach. To that

height, then, the tide must rise when it was at its fullest, and

Norah, in her terror at making this discovery, would have screamed

aloud, forgetful of Manus's disdain, for already she pictured herself

shut in in the dark cave and drowning inch by inch as the water rose

slowly around her.

An iron grip, however, seemed to be upon her throat, compressing it

and preventing her from uttering a sound. It was an unreasoning

panic after all, begotten of the darkness and the solitude, since the

way of escape was at any rate still open, and Lanty's coracle floated

safely in the little basin outside, and it was ended in another

minute by a sharp ringing sound, the shot fired by Manus in the

Seals' Parlour, which pealed and reverberated from rock to rock till

the cavern seemed alive with echoes.

A pause followed, during which Norah held her breath to listen, and

then there came a shout, very faint and far away indeed, but none the

less cheering and reassuring, especially as it was followed by

another and another, for Manus, now that the necessity for silence

and caution was at an end, was endeavouring, by a series of joyous

halloos, to apprise her of their whereabouts and the victory which

they had achieved. Manus and Lanty were alive then, they were coming

back to her, and Norah all at once became ashamed of her foolish

fears of a minute or two before, and realized that after all she

could not have been left so very long by herself.

She had to wait a considerable time longer, however, before the first

gleam of the torch reappeared in view; but when it did, rather than

bear the suspense any longer, she started off to meet her brother and

his companion, stumbling as best she could in the darkness over the

fallen rocks and boulders, and guided by the lights which were

growing larger and more distinct every moment.

"Hullo, so there you are!" cried Manus jubilantly. "We've got

something to show you that'll make you open your eyes. Look here,

what do you think of that?"

And he held the torch aloft to let its light fall on the dead seal

with its long tusks and dark velvety hide.

Norah instinctively shrank from contact with the slimy carcass, which

emitted a strong and by no means agreeable odour, and contented

herself with gazing at it with awe and admiration from a respectful

distance.

"Did you shoot it?" she enquired of her brother.

"Well, no," Manus admitted. "I fired at him, but I'm not sure that I

hit him. I didn't kill him at any rate, for he made for me and

knocked me over. I'd have been done for if Lanty hadn't come down on

him with his club. There, that's something like a whack!"

And Manus pointed to the seal's battered skull.

"Oh, Manus, he might have killed you!" said Norah, horror-stricken.

"Well, he might, but you see he didn't; he only tore my coat," Manus

returned philosophically, displaying the jagged rent which the seal's

tusks had made.

In his secret soul he felt himself no small hero at bearing off such

traces of the conflict, and was already figuring to himself with much

pride how high this adventure would raise him in the estimation of

the other boys on his return to school. Bodkin Major, who came from

Galway, and hunted in the Christmas holidays, had hitherto been

regarded as the Nimrod of the school, and a fox's brush, which had

been presented to him for keeping up with special gallantry during

one most notable run, had been the envy and admiration of all his

school-fellows. But Manus felt, with much inward elation, that

beside the slaughter of the seal deep in the bowels of the rocks,

even Bodkin Major's fox-hunting exploits would fade into nothingness.

The wavelets were lapping almost up to the mouth of the cave when

they emerged from under the low arch, winking and blinking as their

eyes once more encountered the full light of day. Manus, who had

been torch-bearer on the return journey, tossed the bog-wood torch,

which had burnt down almost to the handgrip, hissing into the sea,

whilst Lanty, not without considerable difficulty, hoisted the seal

into the coracle.

"Bedad, Miss Norah," said the latter, when they had taken their seats

in the canvas-covered bark once more, and he was shoving off with his

oar, "ye've bate the whoule world out. Sure ye're the first leddy

that iver wint sale-huntin' in Ballintaggart Cave, an' 'tis like

ye'll be the last."

A little Irish girl · 第 8 / 16 章