Daygo's big boots crushed something beside the heather and little tufts
of fine golden gorse; for as they went along a slope the sweet aromatic
scent of wild thyme floated to the boys' nostrils; and the bees,
startled from their quest for honey, darted to right and left, with a
low, humming noise, which was the treble, in Nature's music, to the
soft, low bass which came in a deep whisper from over the cliff to the
right. And as the boys drew in long, deep draughts of the pure, fresh
air which bathed their island home, their eyes were full of that happy
light which spoke volumes of how they were in the full tide of true
enjoyment of life in their brightest days.
They could not have expressed what they felt--perhaps they were
unconscious of the fact: that knowledge was only to come later on, in
the lookings-back of maturity; but they knew that the moor about them
seemed beautiful, and there was a keen enjoyment of everything upon
which their eyes rested, whether it was the purple and golden-green
slope, or the wondrous lights upon the ever-changing sea.
"Hi! look! There goes a mag," cried Mike, as one of the brilliantly
plumed birds rose suddenly from among some grey crags, and went off in
its peculiar flight, the white of its breast of the purest, and the sun
glancing from the purple, gold and green upon its wings and lengthy
tail.
"Hooray!--another--and another--and another!" cried Vince, who the next
moment passed from the enjoyment of the beautiful in nature to the
grotesque; for he covered his lips with one hand to smother a laugh, and
pointed with the other to a huge square patch of drugget laboriously
stitched upon the back of the solid-looking trousers to strengthen them
for sitting upon the thwart of a boat, a rock, or a bush of furze,
which, when so guarded against, makes a pleasantly elastic seat.
But Vince's companion did not find it so easy to control his mirth; for,
as he gazed at the gigantic trousers in motion along the slope, their
appearance seemed so comic, in conjunction with Vince's mirthful face,
that he burst into a hearty laugh.
Vince gave him a heavy punch in the ribs, which was intended to mean:
"Now you've done it: he won't let us come!"
But old Daygo did not look round; he only shook his head and shouted:
"Won't do, young Ladle--_Ladelle_: you're thinking about the tar water,
but you can't be so funny as he."
The boys exchanged glances, but did not try to explain; neither speaking
till, to their surprise, the man turned suddenly to his right, and made
for a huge buttress which ran out some fifty feet from the rugged edge
of the cliff and ended in a soft patch of sheep-nibbled, velvet grass,
upon which lay, partly buried, a couple of long iron guns, while the
remains of a breastwork of stone guarded the edge of the cliff.
"I say! where are you going?" cried Vince.
"Eh? Here," said the man, sitting down astride of one of the old
cannon. "Think I was going to pitch you off?"
"No," said Vince coolly, as he went close to the edge and looked down at
the deeply-coloured purple, almost black, water at the foot of the
cliff, where there was not an inch of strand. "Wouldn't much matter if
you did: it's awfully deep there, and no rocks. I could swim."
"Swim? Wheer?" said the man sharply. "No man could swim far there.
T'reble currents and deep holes, where the tide runs into and sucks you
down if it don't take you out to sea. Nobody's safe there."
"Might go all right in a boat," said Vince, still gazing down, attracted
by the place, where he had often watched before, and noted how the
cormorants, shags, and rock-doves flew in and out, disappearing beneath
his feet--for the great buttress overhung the sea, and its face could
only be seen by those who sailed by.
"Nay, nay; no one goes in a boat along here, boy. There, I'm going to
fill my pipe and light it, and then we'll go. Which o' you's got a
sun-glass?"
"I have," said Vince quickly.
"Let's have it, then: save me nicking about with my flint and steel."
The rough black pipe was filled, and the convex lens held so that the
sun's rays were brought to a focus on the tobacco, which dried rapidly,
crisped up, and soon began to smoke, when a few draws ignited the whole
surface, and the man began to puff slowly and regularly as he handed
back the glass.
"It's nothing a boy could do," he said, with one of his fierce, grim
looks, "so don't you two get a-glowering at a pipe like that."
"Get out!" said Vince quickly. "I wasn't thinking about that. I was
wondering who first found out that you could get fire from the sun."
"Some chap as had a spy-glass," said the old fellow, "and unscrewed the
bottom same as I do when I wants a light. Might ha' fired one o' these
here with a glass if you put a bit o' tinder in the touch-hole."
"Yes," said Vince, "if the French had come."
"Tchah!" ejaculated the man contemptuously: "all fools who put the guns
about the island! No Frenchies couldn't ha' come and landed here.
Wants some one as knows every rock to sail a small boat, let alone a
ship o' war. All gone to pieces on the rocks if they'd tried."
"Same as the old Spaniards did with the Armada," said Vince.
"Spannles! Did they come?"
"To be sure they did, and got wrecked and beaten and sunk, and all
sorts."
"Sarve 'em right for being such fools as to come without a man aboard as
knowed the rocks and currents and tides. Dessay I could ha' showed 'em;
on'y there's nowhere for 'em to harbour."
"You'd better not try, if ever they want to come again," cried Vince,
with animation. "Father says you are a Spaniard."
"Me?" cried the man, starting. "Not me. I'm English, flesh and bone."
"No: father says Spanish."
"Your father knows something about salts and senny," growled the old
fellow, "but I know more about Joe Daygo o' the Crag than any man going.
English right down to my boots."
"No: Spanish descent, father says," persisted Vince. "He says he goes
by your face and your name."
"What does he mean?" said the man fiercely. "Good a face as his'n!"
"And principally by your nose. He says it's a regular Spanish one."
"He don't know what he's talking about," growled the old man, rubbing
the feature in question. "How can it be Spanish when all the rest of
me's English?"
"It's the shape," continued Vince; while Mike lay on his back, listened,
and stared up at the grey gulls which went sailing round between him and
the vividly blue sky. "He says there isn't another nose in the island a
bit like it."
"Tell him he'd better leave my nose alone. But he is right there: there
arn't a nose like it--they're all round or stunted, or turn t'other way
up."
"Then he says your name Daygo's only a corruption of Diego, which is
Spanish for James."
"Yah! It's Daygo--Joe Daygo--and not James at all. He's thinking about
Jemmy Carnach."
"And he says he feels sure your people came over with the Spanish
Armada, and you're descended from some sailor, named Diego, who was
wrecked."
"You tell your father to mix his physic," grumbled the man
sourly.--"Here, are you two going to stop here talking all day?"
"No," cried Mike, springing up, his example being followed by Vince, who
was riding on the breech of the other gun.
"Then come on," growled the man, who made off now at a tremendous rate.
Away over furze, and up and down over sunny slopes, where the
fallow-chats rose, showing their white tail coverts; in and out among
bare patches of granite, which rose above the great clumps of gorse; and
still on, till all before them was sea. Then he began to rapidly
descend a gully, where everything that was green was left behind, and
they were between two vast walls of rock, almost shut-in by a natural
breakwater stretching across, half covered by the sea and sand. Below
them, in a natural pool, lay a boat which might have been built and
launched to sail upon the tiny dock of stone; for there was apparently
no communication with the sea, so well was it shut off from where, as
the bare and worn masses of grey rock showed, the waves must come
thundering in when the west wind blew.
Old Daygo went clumping down in his heavy boots, and the boys followed,
soon to reach where stones as big as cheeses lay in a long slope,
whither they had been hurled by the storms, and were rolled over till
they were smooth and roughly round as the pebbles in a stream. Next
they had to mount a great barrier, which now hid the boat, and then
descended to its side, where it lay in the pool, only about twice as big
as itself, but which proved now to be the widening out of a huge crack
in the granite rocks, and zigzagged along to the sea, full of clear
water at all times, and forming a sheltered canal to the tiny dock.
"Some on 'em 'd like to have that bit o' harbour," said the man, with a
grin which showed his great white teeth; "but it's mine, and always will
be. Jump in."
The boys obeyed, and the man fetched a boat-hook with a very sharp, keen
point, from where it hung, in company with some well-tarred ropes, nets,
and other fishing-gear, in a sheltered nook amongst the rocks, and then
joined them, and began to push the boat along the narrow waterway.
At the first wave sent rippling outward by the movement of the boat,
there was a rush and splash a dozen yards in front, as a shoal of
good-sized fish darted seaward, some in their hurry leaping right out of
the water, to fall in again with a plunge, which scared the rest in
their flight.
The boys sprang up excitedly, and Daygo nodded.
"Ay," he said, "if we'd knowed they was there, we might ha' crep along
the rocks and dropped a net acrost, and then caught the lot."
"Mullet, weren't they?" said Vince.
"Yes: grey ones," said Mike, shading his eyes, and following the wave
made by the retiring shoal.
"Ay--grey mullet, come up to see if there was anything to eat. Smelt
where I'd been cleaning fish and throwing it into the water."
The boat went on after the shoal of fish, in and out along the great
jagged rift leading seaward, their way seeming to be barred by a
towering pyramid of rock partly detached from the main island, while the
sides of the fault grew higher and higher till they closed in overhead,
forming a roughly-arched tunnel, nearly dark; but as soon as they were
well in, the light shining through the end and displaying a framed
picture of lustrous sea glittering in the sunlight, of which enough was
reflected to show that the sides of the tunnel-like cavern were dotted
with limpets, and the soft, knob-shaped, contracted forms of sea
anemones that, below the surface, would have displayed tentacles of
every tint, studded, as it were, with gems.
The roof a few feet above their heads echoed, and every word spoken went
whispering along, while the iron point and hook of the implement old
Daygo used gave forth a loud, hollow, sounding click as it was struck
upon side or roof from time to time.
"I say," cried Vince suddenly, "we never tried for a conger along here,
Mike."
"No good," growled Daygo.
"Why?" said Vince, argumentatively. "Looks just the place for them:
it's dark and deep."
"Ay, so it is, boy; and I daresay there arn't so many of they mullet
gone back to sea as come up the hole."
"Then there are congers here?"
"Ay, big uns, too; but the bottom's all covered with rocks, and there's
holes all along for the eels to run in, and when you hook 'em they twist
in, and you only lose your line."
He gave the boat a vigorous shove, and it glided out into the light once
more, a hundred yards from the cliff, but with the rugged pyramid of
granite through which they had passed towering up behind them, and its
many shelves dotted with sea-birds lazily sunning themselves and
stretching out their wings to dry.
A few flew up, uttering peculiar cries, as the boat darted out of the
dark arch beneath them; but, for the most part, they merely looked down
and took no further notice--the boat and its little crew being too
familiar an object to excite their fear, especially as its occupants did
not land, and the egg-time was at an end.
"Now, then, up with the mast, lads!" said the old man; and cleverly
enough the boys stepped the little spar by thrusting its end through a
hole in the forward thwart and down into a socket fixed in the inner
part of the keel. Then the stays were hooked on, hauled taut, and up
went the little lug-sail smartly enough, the patch of brown tanned
canvas filling at once, and sending the boat gliding gently along over
the rocks which showed clearly deep down through the crystal sea.
"Soon know how to manage a boat yourselves," said the old man grimly, as
he thrust an oar over the stern and used it to steer.
"Manage a boat ourselves!" cried Mike. "I should think we could--eh,
Vince?"
"Should think you could!" said the old man laughing. "Ah! you think you
could, but you can't. Why, I hardly know how yet, after trying for
fifty year. Wants some larning, boys, when tide's low, and the rocks
are bobbing up and down ready to make holes in the bottom. Don't you
two be too sure, and don't you never go along here far without me."
The boys said nothing; but they felt the truth of the man's words as he
steered them in and out among the jagged masses of granite, around which
the glassy currents glided, now covering them from sight, now leaving
bare their weed-hung, broken-out fangs; while on their left, as they
steered north toward a huge projection, which ran right out on the far
side of a little bay, the perpendicular cliffs rose up grey and grand,
defended by buttresses formed by masses that had fallen, and pierced
every here and there by caverns, into which the water ran and rushed
with strange, hollow, whispering noises and slaps and gurglings, as if
there were peculiar creatures far up in the darkness resenting being
disturbed.
Every now and then the sea, as it heaved and sank, laid bare some
rounded mass covered with long, hanging sea-weed, which parted on the
top and hung down on either side, giving the stone the appearance of
some strange, long-haired sea monster, which had just thrust its head
above the surface to gaze at the boat, and once this was so near that
Mike shrank from it as it peered over the thwart, the boat almost
grating against the side.
"Wasn't that too close?" said Vince quickly.
"Nay," said the old man quietly: "if you didn't go close to that rock,
you'd go on the sharp rock to starboard. There's only just room to
pass."
A minute later, as the two lads, were gazing in at the gloomy portals of
a water-floored cave, in and out of which birds were flying, a dexterous
turn of the oar sent the boat quickly round, head to wind, the sail
flapped over their heads, and Vince seized the boat-hook without being
told, and, reaching over the side, hooked towards him a couple of
good-sized pieces of blackened cork, through which a rope had been
passed and knotted to prevent its return.
This rope Mike seized, hauled upon it, drawing the boat along, till it
was right over something heavy, which, on being dragged to the surface,
proved to be a great beehive-shaped, cage-like basket, weighted with
stones, and provided with a funnel-like entrance at the top.
"Nothing!" cried Mike; and the lobster-pot was allowed to sink back into
the deep water among the rocks as soon as it had been examined to see if
it contained bait.
Then there was another short run, and a fresh examination of one of
these trap-like creels, with better success; for a good-sized lobster
was found to be inside, and, after two or three attempts, Vince seized
it across the back, and drew it out as it flicked its tail sharply, and
vainly sought to take hold of its aggressor with its formidable,
pincer-armed claws.
Old Daygo hooked the lobster towards him with the toe of his boot,
clapped it between his knees, and cleverly tied its claws with pieces of
spun yarn before dropping the captive into a locker in the stern, half
full of water, which was admitted through holes in the side.
A couple more lobster-pots were tried, without success, as the boat
glided along by the side of the great granite cliffs, where the many
black cormorants, which made the shelves and points their home, gave
ample reason for the solitary island, far out among the rushing waters
of the fierce currents, to be named Cormorant Crag by all who sailed
that way, and avoided as the most dangerous rock-bound place off the
coast.
Then came a change, the boat being steered to a channel which ran
between a mighty mass of piled-up granite and the cliffs. This gap was
about forty yards wide, and the pent-up waters rushed through, eddying
and rippling, and taking the boat along at a rapid rate. But Daygo
steered close enough in to enable him to throw the little grapnel in the
bottom of the boat on to the rocks nearest the cliffs. The iron caught
at once, the line was checked and fastened, and the boat, swung now in
the swift race close to a little keg, from which ran a row of corks,
anchored in a calmer place across the tide.
"Down with the lug!" growled the old man. His crew lowered the sail
quickly, and stowed it out of their way, for the chief feature of the
little trip was close at hand. Old Daygo went forward now, shaking his
head at the boys' progress of hauling in the trawl-net line themselves.
"Ay," he said; "you can take out the fish if there be any." And he
methodically dragged the net, which had been stretched like so many
walls of meshes overnight right across the swift waters of the tide,
having been down long enough for the ebb and flow both to pass through
it, with the consequence that, if fish had passed that way, they would
have been pocketed or become netted among the meshes from either side.
But a good deal of the net was dragged into the boat before the
glittering scales of a fish were seen.
"Red mullet!" cried Vince, as he pounced upon two small ones, looking as
if clothed in mother-o'-pearl, speckled and stained with scarlet.
These were taken out and thrown into the locker, with the result that
the lobster flipped its tail and splashed about furiously. But by this
time there was a golden gleam in the net drawn aboard; taking his turn,
Mike dragged out a grotesque-looking, big-headed John Dory, all
golden-green upon its sides, and bearing the two dark marks, as if a
giant finger and thumb had been imprinted upon it. This, too, with its
great eyes staring, and wide mouth gaping feebly, was thrown into the
locker.
Then old Daygo began to growl and mutter: for the meshes showed the
heads only of a fine pair of red mullet, the whole of the bodies having
been eaten away; and a minute later up came the cause, in the shape of a
long, grey, eely-looking fish, which writhed and struggled violently to
get free, but only entangled itself the more tightly.
"Nay, nay! let me come," cried the old man, as he saw the boys whip out
their knives. "I don't want my net cut to pieces; I'll do it myself."
He threw the portion of the net containing the captive on one side in
the bottom of the boat, and hauled in the rest, which contained nothing
but a sickly green, mottled-looking wrasse of about a couple of pounds
weight. Then the lines, cords, and anchors were got on board, and,
leaving the boat to drift with the sharp current which carried it
onward, the old man drew a long, sharp-pointed knife from its sheath,
and cautiously turned over portions of the net.
"Oh, murder!" said Mike.
"Well, how many poor fish has it murdered?" said Vince. "Mind it don't
pike you, Joe!" he shouted.
"I'm a-goin' to, my lad; and you mind, too, when you ketches one.
They'll drive their pike at times right through a thick leather boot;
and the place don't heal kindly afterward. Ha! now I've got you," he
muttered, as, getting one foot well down over the keen spine with which
the fish was armed, and which it was striking to right and left, he held
down the head, and, carefully avoiding the threads of the net, stabbed
it first right through, and then dexterously divided the backbone just
at its junction with the skull, before, with the fish writhing feebly,
he gradually shook it clear of the net, and stood looking viciously down
at his captive.
"Won't eat no more mullet right up to the head, will he, lads?"
"No; he has had his last meal," replied Vince, turning the fish over and
displaying its ugly mouth. "Now, if it was six feet long instead of
four, you'd call it a shark."
"Nay, I shouldn't; and he would be a dog-fish still. Well, he's eat a
many in his time. Now his time's come, and something'll eat him. Hyste
the sail."
The dog-fish--a very large one of its kind--was thrown overboard, the
sail hoisted, and the boat began to glide onward toward the semicircular
bay into which they were drifting, with the huge, massive promontory
straight ahead. Then the oar was pressed down, and the boat began to
curve round.
"Hi! stop! Don't go back yet!" cried Vince.
"Eh? Why not? No more lobster-pots down."
"I want to sail across the bay, and get round by the Scraw."
"What!" cried the old man, looking at him fiercely. "You want to go
there? Well!"
He turned his eyes upon Mike, who encountered the fierce gaze, and said,
coolly enough:
"Well, all right; I want to go too. I've only seen the place at a
distance."
"Ay, and that's all you will ever see on it, 'less you get wings like
one o' they shags," said the old man, pointing solemnly at a great black
bird sunning itself upon an outlying rock. "They've seen it, p'r'aps;
and you may go and lie off, if you're keerful, and see it with a
spy-glass."
"And climb along to the edge of the cliff, and look over?" said Vince.
"What!" cried Daygo, with a look of horror. "Nay, don't you never try
to do that, lad; you'd be sure to fall, and down you'd go into the sea,
where it's all by ling and whizzing and whirling round. You'd be sucked
down at once among the rocks, and never come up again. Ah! it's a
horful place in there for 'bout quarter of a mile. I've knowed boats--
big uns, too--sailed by people as knowed no better, gone too near, and
then it's all over with 'em. They gets sucked in, and away they go.
You never hear of 'em again--not so much as a plank ever comes out!"
"What becomes of them, then?" said Vince, looking at the rugged old
fellow curiously.
"Chawed up," was the laconic reply, as the old fellow shaded his brow,
and gazed long and anxiously beyond the headland they were leaving on
their left.
"But I want to see what it's like," said Mike.
"Ay, and so has lots o' lads, and men, too, afore you, youngster," said
the old man solemnly; "and want's had to be their master. It arn't to
be done."
"Well, look here," continued Mike, for Vince sat very thoughtfully
looking from one to the other as if he had something on his mind: "steer
as close in as it's safe, and let's have a look, then."
"Do what?" roared the old man fiercely.
"Steer as close in as it's safe," repeated Mike. "We want to go, don't
we, Vince?"
The lad nodded.
"Don't I tell you it's not safe nowhere? It's my belief, boys, as
there's some'at 'orrid about that there place. I don't say as there is,
mind you; but I can't help thinking as there's things below as lays hold
o' the keel of a boat and runs it into the curren' as soon as you goes
anywhere near--and then it's all over with you, for you never get back.
Your boat's rooshed round and round as soon as you get clost in, and
she's washed up again the rocks all in shivers, and down they goes, just
as if you tied a little 'baccy-box at the end of a string, and turned it
round and round, and kep' hitting it again the stones."
"Oh! I don't believe about your things under water doing that," said
Mike--"only currents and cross currents: do you, Cinder?"
Vince did not answer, but sat gazing beyond the great headland, looking
very thoughtful.
"Ah, my lad! it's all very well for you to talk," said the old man
solemnly; "but you don't know what there is in the wast deep, nor I
don't neither. I've heerd orful noises come up from out of the Scraw
when the wind's been blowing ashore, and the roarings and moanings and
groanings as come up over the cliffs have been t'reble."
"Yes, but it isn't blowing now," said Mike: "take us in a bit, just
round the point."
"Nay," said the old man, shaking his head; "I won't say I won't, a-cause
I could never face your fathers and mothers again, for I should never
have the chance. I'm getting an old 'un now, and it wouldn't matter so
much about me, though I have made up my mind to live to 'bout a hunderd.
I'm a-thinking about you two lads, as is only sixteen or so."
"Vince is only fifteen," said Mike quickly, as if snatching at the
chance of proving his seniority.
"On'y fifteen!" cried the old man. "Think o' that now--on'y fifteen and
you sixteen, which means as you've both got 'bout seventy or eighty
years more to live if you behave yourselves."
"Oh, gently!" cried Mike; but Vince did not speak.
"And do you think I'm a-going to cut your young lives short all that
much? Nay. My name's Joe Daygo, and I'm English, and I won't do that.
If I'd been what you two young fellows said--a Spannle--it might be
different, but it arn't. There--let's get back; and one on you can have
the lobster, and t'other the Dory and mullet."
"Then you won't take us round by the Scraw?"
"Right, my lad; I won't."
"Then I tell you what: Vince Burnet and I'll get a boat, and have a look
for ourselves. You're not afraid of things catching hold of the keel,
are you, Cinder?"
"No," said the lad quietly, "I don't think I am."
"Well, I've warned you both; so don't you blame me if you don't come
back," growled the old man.
"Why, how can we if we don't come back?" cried Mike merrily.
The old man shook his head, and sat gazing straight before him from
under his shaggy brows, steering carefully, as the boat now had to make
zigzag tacks among the rocks which dotted the surface away from the
cliffs. Then, in answer to a question from his companion, Vince shook
off his fit of thoughtfulness, and sat chatting about the various
objects they saw, principally about the caves they passed, some of which
were low, arched places, excavated by the sea, whose entrances now stood
out clear, now were covered by a wave which came back foaming from the
compressed air it had shut-in. Then the conversation turned upon the
birds, familiar enough to them, but always fresh and new. All along the
face of these vast cliffs, and upon the outlying rocks, was a grand
place for the study of sea-fowl. They were quite unmolested, save at
nesting-time, and then interfered with but little. This was one of
their strongholds, and, as the boat glided along back, the two lads set
themselves to see how many kinds they passed. There were the two kinds
of cormorant, both long, blackish-green birds, the one distinctive from
the other by the clear white, egg-shaped marks on its sides close to the
tail; rows of little sea-parrots, as they are familiarly called--the
puffins, with their triangular bills; the terns, with their swallow-like
flight; and gulls innumerable--black-headed, black-backed, the common
grey, and the beautiful, delicately-plumaged kittiwakes, sailing round
and round in the most effortless way, as if all they needed to do were
to balance themselves upon widespread wing, and then go onward wherever
they willed.
There was plenty to see and hear round Cormorant Crag as the boat sailed
on over the crystal water, till the archway was reached in the pyramid
of granite, when down went the sail, and the boat was thrust onward by
means of the hitcher, the tide having risen so high that in places the
boys had to bend down. Then once more they were in the long, canal-like
zigzag, and soon after in the dock, where they loyally helped the old
man carry up and spread the trammel net to dry, and turned to go.
"Here! stop a minute, youngsters," cried Daygo.
"What for?"
"Arn't got your bit o' fish."
"Oh, I don't want to take it, Joe," said Vince. "You've had bad luck
to-day."
"Never you mind about that, my lad. I get lots o' fish, and I'm dead on
some hammaneggs to-night. I said you two was to have that fish and
lobster; so which is it to be? Who says lobster?"
Nobody said lobster, and the boys laughed.
"Well, if you two won't speak out like men, I must do it myself. Am I
to divide the take, or are you?"
"You give us what you like, Joe," said Vince, who made up his mind to
ask his mother for a pot of jam as a return present, knowing as he did
that the old man had a sweet tooth.
"Right, then; I will," cried Daygo, rolling up his jersey sleeve, and
thrusting a massive arm into the locker, out of which he drew the fish,
the boat's stem having been lifted so that the water had run out.
"There, look here: Doctor Burnet said as lobsters were undo-gestible
things, so you'd better take that there one home with you, Ladle. You
take the fish, Squire Burnet; your mar likes 'em fresh, as I well know."
Mike took the lobster; and the old fellow took a little willow creel
from where it was wedged in a granite crevice, laid some sea-weed at the
bottom, and then packed in the fish.
"Thankye, Daygo," said Mike. "Shall I pay you for it?"
"If you wants to be bad friends, lad," said the old man gruffly.
"Much obliged, Joe," said Vince. "My mother will be so pleased!"
"Ah! and you're a lucky one to have such a mother," growled the great
fellow. "Wish I had."
This brought a roar of laughter from the lads, and Daygo looked fiercely
from one to the other; then the bearing of his remark began to dawn upon
him, and his countenance relaxed into a grim smile.
"Ah! I didn't see," he grumbled out. "Yes, I do look a nice sorter
youngster to have a mother to wash my face, don't I? But here, I say,"
he continued sternly, "you two didn't mean it about getting a boat and
trying to see the Scraw, did you?"
"Yes, to be sure," said Mike sharply.
"Then look here!" cried the old man, bringing his great doubled fist
down into his left palm, with the result that there was a loud crack as
of a mallet falling upon a board; "I've give you both fair warning, and
you'd better take it. You don't know what may come to you if you try
it. I tell you, once for all, that you can't get to see it from the
sea, and you can't get to see it from the shore. Nobody never has, and
nobody never can, and come back 'llve, as that there Johnny Dor'."
"I don't believe any one's had the pluck to try," said Mike stoutly.
"Ah! you're a unbelievin' young rip," growled Daygo fiercely. "But
lookye here: you don't want to upset my lady your mother, Ladle, and you
don't--"
"Look here, Joe Daygo, if you call me Ladle again I'll kick you!" cried
Mike hotly.
"Nay, don't, lad--not yet, till you've practysed a bit on the rocks,
'cause you might hurten your toes. Look here, young Physic: you don't
want to go and break your poor mother's heart, do you?"
"Of course not," said Vince.
"Then don't you go, my lad--don't you go. There--better be off, both on
you. Weather's hot, and fish won't keep. Tell 'em to put some salt in
the pot with that lobster, Ladle; and you'd better have your fish cooked
to-night, Doctor."
Vince turned round and nodded; but the ladle was sticking in Mike's
throat, and he stalked on without making a sign.
Daygo stood watching till the lads had climbed up out of his sight, and
then he went and sat down on a block of granite, and began to rasp his
nose on both sides with his rough, fishy finger, as if engaged in
sharpening the edge of a feature which was sharp enough as it was; and
as he rasped, he looked straight before him at the great rugged cliff.
But he was not thinking of it in the least; his thoughts were half a
mile away, at the most precipitous part of the coast--a spot avoided by
shore-goer and seaman alike, from the ill name it bore, and the dangers
said to attend those who ventured to go near, either climbing or in a
boat.
"Nay," he said at last; "they won't go now."