Back again.--Calls and Cries.--Captain Corbet's Yell.--A significant
Sign.--The old Hat.--The return Cry.--The Boat rounds the Point.
Captain Corbet, with Phil and Pat, walked along the top of the cliff in
this way, narrowly scrutinizing the rocks below, and calling and
shouting, until, at length, they reached the place at which they had
first come out upon the shore.
"Now, boys," said the captain, "from here to the pint down thar is all
new ground. We must go along here, an keep a good lookout. If we hev
any chance left of findin anythin, it's thar. I'm ony sorry we didn't
examine this here fust an foremost, before wanderin away off up thar,
whar 'tain't at all likely that Solomon ever dreamed of goin. I hope
the boys won't be long gettin off that thar boat."
"Perhaps they can't get one."
"O, yes, they can. I saw two or three down thar."
They now walked on a little farther.
At this place the cliff was as steep as it had been behind; but the
rocky shelves were more numerous, and down near the shore they
projected, one beyond another, so that they looked like natural steps.
"If Solomon was caught by the tide anywhar hereabouts," said Captain
Corbet, "thar's no uthly reason why he shouldn't save himself. He
could walk up them rocks jest like goin up stairs, an git out of the
way of the heaviest surf an the highest tide that these shores ever
saw."
"It all depends," said Phil, "on whether he staid about here, or went
farther up."
"Course--an it's my opinion that he did stay about here. He was never
such an old fool as to go so far up as we did. Why, ef he'd a done so
over them rocks, he'd never have got the use of his legs agin."
"Strange we don't see any signs of him."
"O, wal, thar's places yet we hevn't tried."
"One thing is certain--we haven't found any signs of him. If anything
had happened, we'd have seen his basket floating."
"Yes, or his old hat."
"I should think, if he were anywhere hereabouts, he'd hear the noise;
we are shouting loud enough, I'm sure. As for your voice, why, he
ought to hear it a mile away; and the point down there doesn't seem to
be a quarter that distance."
"O, it's further than that; besides, my voice can't penetrate so easily
down thar. It gits kine o' lost among the rocks. It can go very easy
in a straight line; but when it's got to turn corners an go kine o'
round the edges o' sharp rocks, it don't get on so well by a long
chalk. But I think I'll try an divarsify these here proceedins by
yellin a leetle lower down."
So saying, Captain Corbet knelt down, and putting his head over the
cliff, he uttered the loudest, and sharpest, and shrillest yell that he
could give. Then he listened in silence, and the boys also listened in
breathless expectation for some time. But there was no response
whatever.
Captain Corbet arose with a sigh.
"Wal, boys," said he, in a mournful tone, "we must git on to the pint.
We'd ought to know the wust pooty soon. But, at any rate, I'm bound to
hope for the best till hope air over."
The little party now resumed their progress, and walked on towards the
point, shouting at intervals, as before.
From this place on as far as the point, the ground was clear, and there
was nothing to bar their way. They could go along without being
compelled to make any further detour, and could keep near enough to the
edge to command a view of the rocks below. They walked on, and shouted
without ceasing, and thus traversed a portion of the way.
Suddenly Captain Corbet's eye caught sight of something in the water.
It was round in shape, and was floating within a few feet of the shore,
on the top of a wave. As Captain Corbet looked, the wave rolled from
underneath it, and dashed itself upon the rocks, while the floating
object seemed to be thrown farther out. The tide had turned already,
and was now on the ebb, so that floating articles, such as this, were
carried away from the shore, rather than towards it.
Upon this Captain Corbet fastened his gaze, and stood in silence
looking at it. At length he put his hand on Phil's shoulder, and
directed the attention of the boys to the floating object.
"Do you see that?" said he.
"What?"
"That thing."
"What--that round thing?"
"Yes, that round thing. Look sharp at it now. What doos it look like
to your young eyes?"
Phil and Pat looked at it very carefully, and in silence. Then Phil
looked up into Captain Corbet's face without saying a word.
"Wal?"
"What is it, do you think?" asked Phil, in a low voice.
"What do YOU think?"
"Sure an it's a hat--a sthraw hat," said Pat.
Captain Corbet exchanged a meaning glance with Phil.
"Do you think it's HIS hat?" asked Phil.
"Whose else can it be?"
Phil was silent, and his gaze was once more directed to the floating
object. As it rose and fell on the waves, it showed the unmistakable
outline of a straw hat, and was quite near enough for them to recognize
its general character and color. It was dark, with the edges rather
ragged, a broad brim, and a roomy crown, not by any means of a
fashionable or graceful shape, but coarse, and big, and roomy, and
shabby--just such a hat as Solomon had put on his head when he left
Grand Pre with them on this memorable and ill-fated voyage.
They looked at it for a long time in silence, and none of them moved.
Captain Corbet heaved a deep sigh.
"This here," said he, "has been a eventfool vyge. I felt a derred
persentment afore I started. Long ago I told you how the finger of
destiny seemed to warn me away from the ocean main. I kem to the
conclusion, you remember, that henceforth I was to dwell under my own
vine an fig tree, engaged in the tender emplymint of nussin the infant.
But from this I was forced agin my own inclynations. An what's the
result? Why, this--that thar hat! See here, boys;" and the venerable
seaman's tone grew deeper, and more solemn, and more impressive; "see
here, boys," he repeated; "for mor'n forty year hev I follered the
seas, an traversed the briny deep; but, though I've hed my share of
storms an accydints, though I've ben shipwrecked onst or twiste, yet
never has it ben my lot to experience any loss of human life. But now,
but now, boys, call to mind the startlin events of this here vyge!
Think of your companion an playmate a driftin off in that startlin
manner from Petticoat Jack! An now look here--gaze upon that thar!
Words air footil!"
"Do you give him up, then?" cried Phil. "Poor, poor old Solomon!"
Captain Corbet shook his head.
"'Deed, thin, an I don't!" cried Pat. "What's a hat? 'Tain't a man,
so it isn't. Many's the man that's lost his hat, an ain't lost his
life. It's a windy place here, an ole Solomon's hat's a mile too big
for him, so it is--'deed an it is."
Captain Corbet shook his head more gloomily than ever.
"Ow, sure an ye needn't be shakin yer head that way. Sure an haven't
ye lost hats av yer own, over an over?"
"Never," said the captain. "I never lost a hat."
"Niver got one blowed off? 'Deed an ye must have."
"I never got one blowed off. When the wind blowed hard I allus kep 'em
tied on."
"Well, Solomon hadn't any tie to his, an it cud tumble off his old pate
asy enough, so it cud. Sure he's lost it jumpin over the rocks.
Besides, where's his basket?"
"At the bottom, no doubt."
"Sure an it cud float."
"No; I dar say it was full of lobsters."
"Any how, I'll not believe he's gone till I see him," cried Pat,
earnestly. "Seein's believin."
"Ef he's gone," said Captain Corbet, more solemnly than ever, "ye'll
never see him. These waters take too good care of a man for that."
"Well, yer all givin up too soon," said Pat. "Come along now; there's
lots of places yet to examin. Give one of yer loudest yells."
Captain Corbet did so. In spite of his despondency as to poor old
Solomon's fate, he was not at all unwilling to try any further chances.
On this occasion he seemed to gain unusual energy out of his very
despair; and the yell that burst from him was so high, so shrill, so
piercing, and so far penetrating, that the former cries were nothing
compared to it.
"Well done!" cried Pat. "Sure an you bet yerself that time, out an
out."
"Stop!" cried Phil. "Listen. What's that?"
Far away, as they listened, they heard a faint cry, that seemed like a
response.
"Is that the echo?" asked Phil, anxiously.
"Niver an echo!" cried Pat, excitedly. "Shout agin, captain, darlin."
Captain Corbet gave another shout as loud and as shrill as the
preceding one.
They listened anxiously.
Again they heard the cry. It was faint and far off; yet it was
unmistakably a human cry. Their excitement now grew intense.
"Where did it come from?" cried Phil.
"Wal, it kine o' seemed to me that it came back thar," said the
captain, pointing to the woods.
"'Deed an it didn't," cried Pat; "not a bit of it. It was from the
shore, jest ahead; from the pint, so it was, or I'm a nagur."
"I think it came from the shore, too," said Phil; "but it seemed to be
behind us."
"Niver a bit," cried Pat; "not back there. We've been there, an
whoever it was wud have shouted afore, so he wud. No, it's ahead at
the pint. He's jest heard us, an he's shoutin afther us. Hooray!
Hurry up, an we'll be there in time to save him."
Pat's confidence was not without its effect on the others. Without
waiting any longer, they at once set off at a run, stopping at
intervals to yell, and then listening for a response. To their
delight, that response came over and over again; and to their still
greater joy, the sound each time was evidently louder.
Beyond a doubt, they were drawing nearer to the place from which the
sounds came.
This stimulated them all the more, so that they hurried on faster.
The edge of the cliff was not covered by any trees, but the ground at
its summit had been cleared, so that progress was not at all difficult.
They therefore did not take much time in traversing the space that
intervened between the spot where they had first heard the cry, and the
point where the cliff terminated. The cry grew steadily louder, all
the way, until at last, when they approached the point, it seemed to
come directly from beneath.
The cliff here was perpendicular for about forty feet down, and below
this it seemed to retreat, so that nothing could be seen. The tide was
on the ebb; but it was still so high that its waves beat below them,
and seemed to strike the base of the rock. Beyond, on the right, there
was a sloping ledge, which descended from the cliffs into the sea, over
which the waves were now playing.
It was from the hollow and unseen recess down at the foot of the cliff
that the cry seemed to arise, which had come in response to the calls
of those on the summit. On reaching the place above, they knelt down,
and looked over, but were not able to distinguish any human being, or
any sign of the presence of one. But as they looked anxiously over,
the cry arose, not very loud, but quite distinct now, and assured them
that this was the place which sheltered the one who had uttered that
cry.
Captain Corbet now thrust his head over as far as he could, and gave a
call in his loudest voice.
"Hal-lo-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o!"