"How about the cold pudding?"
"Look here, Ladle, if you say any more about that it means a fight."
"Ha, ha! Poor old Cinder riding the nightmare, and dreaming about the
Scraw! Wish I'd been sleeping at the cottage that night. I'd have woke
you up: I'd have given you cold pig!"
"Lucky for you that you weren't," said Vince. "I'd have given you
something, my lad. But, I say, Ladle, drop it. I wouldn't have told
you about that if I'd known you were always going to fire it off at me."
"Well it does seem so comic for a fellow to go stuffing himself with
cold pudding, and then begin dreaming he was hanging at the end of our
rope."
"Look here," said Vince sharply, "if you'd felt what I did that day,
though I didn't say much, I'll be bound to say you'd have dreamed of it
after."
"I felt bad enough," said Mike, suddenly growing serious, as they walked
together over the heathery land, unwittingly taking the direction of the
scene of their adventure; "and I don't mind telling you, Cinder, that
I've woke up four nights since with a start, fancying I was trying to
hold the rope, and it kept slipping through my fingers. Ugh! it was
very horrid."
He laid his hand on Vince's shoulder, and his companion followed his
example, both walking along very silently for a few minutes before Vince
said quietly:
"I say, you won't grin if I tell you something?"
"No: honour bright."
"Well, let's see: it was last Thursday week we went, wasn't it?"
"Yes."
"I've been thinking about it ever since."
"So have I: not about the rope business, you know, but about that place.
It's just as if something was always making me want to go."
Vince let his hand drop, shook himself free, and faced his companion.
"But that's just how I feel," he said. "I keep on thinking about it and
wanting to go."
"Not to try and get down with a rope?" said Mike excitedly.
"Brrrr! No!" exclaimed Vince, with a shudder. "I don't say I wouldn't
go down with a rope from the cliffs if it was to help some poor chaps
who were wrecked and drowning, because that would seem to be right, I
suppose, and what one would expect any fellow to do for one if being
drowned. Why, you'd go down then, Ladle."
"I d'know. I shouldn't like to; but when one got excited with seeing a
wreck, perhaps I should try."
"There wouldn't be any perhaps about it, Ladle," said Vince gravely.
"Something comes over people then. It's the sort of thing that makes
men go out in lifeboats, or swim off through the waves with ropes, or,
as I've read, go into burning houses to get people out."
Mike nodded, and they went on very thoughtful and dreamy over the purple
heather and amongst the golden furze till they reached the edge of the
scrub oak wood, where they stopped short and looked in each other's eyes
again.
"What do you say? shall we go and have another look at the place?"
"I feel as if I should like to," replied Mike; "and at the same time I'm
a bit shrinky. You won't do anything risky, will you?"
"That I just won't," said Vince decisively.
"Then come on."
They plunged into the wood eagerly, and being more accustomed to the way
they got along more easily; and decided as they walked that they would
go to the southern end of the slope and then try and get up to have a
look over the ridge from there, while afterwards they would make their
way along the landward side of the jagged serrations of weather-worn
granite points right to the northern end if they could get so far, and
return at the bottom of the slope.
"That'll be more than any one in the Crag has ever done," said Vince,
"and some day we'll bring Mr Deane, and see what he'll say to it."
Little more was said, but, being of one mind, they steadily went on
fighting their way through the difficulties which beset them on all
sides, till, hot, weary and breathless, they neared the slope some
considerable distance from the spot where they had approached it first.
Then, after a short rest, they climbed up, over and among the fallen
rocks, with nothing more to startle them than the rush of a rabbit or
two, which went scuttling away.
Half-way up they saw a couple of those fast disappearing birds, the
red-legged choughs, and startled a few jackdaws, which went off shouting
at them, Mike said; and then the top was won, and they had a long survey
of the cove from another point of view.
But there was nothing fresh to see; all beneath them was entirely hid
from view, and though they looked again and again as they continued
their course along the ridge their patience and toil were not rewarded,
for, save that they were from different standpoints, the views they
obtained of the rocks and rushing waters were the same.
They continued along the ridge by slow climbing for a considerable
distance, and then as if moved by the same spirit they stopped and
looked at each other.
"I say," said Mike, "it don't seem any good to go any farther."
"No," was the reply, given in a very decisive tone. "The only way to
see that place down below is to get there in a boat."
"And old Joe Daygo says it's not right to go, and we should never get
back; so we shall never see it."
"I don't believe that," said Vince shortly.
"Well, I don't want to, but it seems as if he's right, and the more one
looks the more one believes in him."
"I don't," said Vince. "The more I look the more I seem to want to go
and have a thorough good search, and I can't help thinking he knows
why."
"Shall we try him again?"
Vince thoughtfully shook his head, as he gazed down once more from
between two pieces of granite that the storms of centuries had carved
till they seemed to have been set upon edge.
"Might offer him some money."
"I don't believe he'd like it, and you know Jemmy Carnach once said
that, though he always dressed so shabbily and never spent anything, he
always was well off."
"Well, then, what are we to do? I want to see the place worse than
ever. It looks so tempting, and as if there's no knowing what we might
find."
"I don't think we should find anything about it but that it would be a
good place for fishing. It must be if no one ever goes there. Why,
Ladle, all the holes among the rocks must swarm with lobsters, and the
congers must be as big as serpents."
Mike nodded.
"But how are we to get there to fish for them?"
"Don't know, unless we try it ourselves with a boat."
"Would you risk it?"
Vince did not answer for a few moments, but stood clinging to the rock,
gazing down and searchingly examining the opening through which the tide
poured.
"I'm not sure yet," he said; "but I begin to think I would. That narrow
passage would look wider when you were right in it, and the way to do it
would be to come in when the tide was high,--there wouldn't be so much
rushing and tumbling about of the water then; and the way to get out
again would be at high water too."
"But that would mean staying till the tide had gone down and come up
again--hours and hours."
"Yes," said Vince, "that would be the way; but it would want ever so
much thinking about first."
"Yes," replied Mike; "it would want ever so much thinking about first.
Ready to go back?"
"May as well," said Vince; and he stepped down, after a farewell look
down at the sheltered cove, fully realising the fact that any one
passing it a short distance from the shore would take the barrier of
rocks which shut it in for the continuation of the cliffs on either
side; and as the place had a terrible reputation for dangerous reefs and
currents, in addition to the superstitious inventions of the people of
the Crag, it seemed highly probable that it had never been approached
unless by the unfortunate crew of some doomed vessel which had been
battered to pieces and sunk unseen and unheard.
"Shall I go first?" said Vince.
"Yes: you lead."
"Mean to go along among the bushes at the bottom, or would you like to
slope down at once?"
"Oh, we'll go back the way we said, only we shan't have done as much as
we promised ourselves."
Vince started off down the slope, and upon reaching the trough-like
depression at the bottom he began to work his way in and out among the
fallen blocks, leaping the hollows wherever there was safe landing on
the other side. At times he had to stop to extricate himself from the
brambles, but on the whole he got along pretty well till their way was
barred by a deeper rift than they had yet encountered, out of which the
brambles and ferns grew luxuriantly.
The easier plan seemed to be to go round one end or the other; but it
only appeared to be the simpler plan, for on trying to put it to the
test it soon proved itself to be the harder, promising as it did a long,
toilsome climb, whichever end they took.
"Jump it," said Mike: "there's a good landing-place on the other side."
"Yes, but if I don't reach it I shall get a nice scratching. Look at
that blackthorn covered with brambles."
"Oh, never mind a few thorns," said Mike, grinning. "I'll pick them all
out for you with a packing needle."
"Thankye," said Vince, eyeing the rift he had to clear: "you'll have
enough to do to pick out your own thorns, for if I go down I'm sure you
will. Stand aside and let's have a good start."
There was no running, for it was a standing jump from one rugged block
to another a little lower; and after taking a good swing with both arms,
the lad launched himself forward, drawing his feet well up, clearing the
mass of tangled bushes below, and just reaching the other side with his
toes.
An inch or two more would have been sufficient; as it was, he had not
leaped quite far enough, for his boots grated and scratched down the
side facing him, the bushes below checked him slightly, and he tried to
save himself with his hands and clung to the rough block for a few
moments. Then, to Mike's great amusement, he slipped suddenly lower,
right in among the brambles which grew from out of a rift, and looked
matted enough together to support him as he hung now by his hands.
"Scramble up, Cinder!" cried Mike. "You are a jumper!"
"Wait till you try it, my lad," was the reply; and then, "Must drop and
climb out at the end."
As Vince spoke his hands glided from their hold, and he dropped out of
sight among the bushes, and at the same moment, to Mike's horror, there
was the rushing noise of falling stones, increasing to quite an
avalanche, and sounding hollow, echoing, and strange, as if descending
to a terrific depth.
Mike's heart seemed to stand still as he craned forward, gazing at the
slight opening in the brambles which his companion had made; and as he
listened intently he tried hard to speak, but his mouth felt dry, and
not a word would come.
It was horrible. They had both imagined that they were about to leap
over a hollow between some masses of stone, probably two, perhaps three
feet deep; but the bushes and brambles which had rooted in the sides had
effectually masked what was evidently a deep chasm, penetrating to some
unknown distance in the bowels of the earth.
What to do? Run for help, or try to get down?
Before Mike could decide, in his fear and excitement, which, he drew his
breath heavily, with a gasp of relief, for a voice sounding hollow and
strange came up through the bushes and ferns.
"Mike!"
"Yes. Hullo, are you hurt?"
"Bit scratched," came up.
"How far are you down? Tell me what to do. Shall I go for a rope?"
"Steady!" came up: "don't ask so much at once. Not down very far. I
can see the light, and it's all of a slope here, but awful lower down.
Did you hear the stones go with a rush?"
"Yes, yes; but Vince, old chap, tell me how I am to help you."
"I can't: I don't know. I think I can climb out, only I hardly like to
stir for fear of a slip. Here goes, though. I can't stay like this."
Mike stood gazing down at the bushes, trembling with anxiety as he heard
a rustling and scraping sound beneath, which made him long to speak and
ask questions about how his companion got on, but he feared to do so
lest he should take his attention from the work he had on hand. Then
came the rattle of a falling stone going slowly down, as if there were a
good, steady slope; and the boy listened for its plunge into water far
beneath, but the falling of the stone ceased to be heard, while the
rustling and scraping sound made by the climber increased. Then all at
once the bushes began to move and a hand appeared at the far end.
"Take care! pray take care!" cried Mike. "Don't--pray don't slip back!"
"Oh, it's all right now," said Vince, to the watcher's great relief.
"It's all of a slope here, as if it had once been a place where water
ran down. Wait a moment till I get out my knife."
There was a pause, during which Mike climbed round to the end where
Vince was trying to get out; and he was there by the time his companion
began hacking at the brambles with his big knife, first his arm
appearing and soon after his head, as he chopped away, getting himself
free, and seizing the hand extended to him from where Mike knelt and
reached down.
"Hah!" cried Vince, as he climbed on to one of the rugged blocks, "that
wasn't nice. It slopes down from here, so that where I fell through I
must have dropped a dozen feet; but I came down standing, and then fell
this way on my hands and stopped myself from sliding, when a lot of
stones that had been waiting for a touch went down."
"But are you hurt?" cried Mike anxiously.
"Not much: bit bruised, I suppose. But I say, isn't it rum? There must
have been water running to make a place like that. It must have come
all along the bottom, where we've been creeping, and run down here,
eating its way, like your father and mine were talking about one
evening."
"I'd forgotten," said Mike. "But if it ran down there, where did it go
to?"
"Down to the sea, of course, and--I say, Mike, don't you see?" cried
Vince excitedly.
"See? See what?" said the lad, staring.
"What I said."
"How could any one see what you said!" cried Mike, ready enough to laugh
now that his companion was out of danger.
"Oh, don't be stupid at a time like this!" grumbled Vince excitedly.
"Once water begins to eat away, it goes on eating a channel for itself,
like it does at the waterfall over the other side of the island. Well,
this must have cut itself a way along. It's quite a big, sloping
passage, and it must go down to the shore. Can't you see now?"
"I don't know. Do you mean that hole leads down to the shore?"
"Yes, or into some cavern like the great holes where the stream runs out
into the sea."
"Then it would be a way down into the Black Scraw?" cried Mike
excitedly.
"Of course it would. Why, Mikey, we've found out what we were looking
for!"
"You mean you tumbled upon it," said Mike, laughing.
"Tumbled into it," cried Vince, whose face was flushed with eagerness.
"Come on down, and let's have a look if I'm not right."
"What, down there?"
"Yes, of course."
"But isn't it dark?"
"Black enough lower down; but you can see the top part, because the
light shines through all these brambles and thorns."
"But hadn't we better wait till I've got a lanthorn and the rope?"
"Why, of course, before we try to explore it; but we might go and look a
little way. You're not afraid?"
"No, I don't think I'm afraid," said Mike.
"Then come on."
Without a moment's hesitation Vince began to lower himself down where he
had so lately emerged, and Mike followed; but in a few minutes they had
decided that they could do nothing without a light. All they could make
out was that there was a rugged slope, very steep and winding, going
right away in the direction of the sea. They picked up the loose stones
beneath their feet, and threw them into the darkness, and listened to
hear them go bounding down, striking the sides and floor; but there
seemed to be no precipitous fall, and at last, thoroughly satisfied with
their discovery, they climbed back into daylight, and sat down on the
stones to rest and think.
"I've got it!" said Mike suddenly. "It isn't what you think."
"What is it, then?"
"An old mine, where they bored for lead in the old, old days."
"No," said Vince stubbornly, "it's what I say--the channel of an old
stream; and you'll see."
"So will you, my lad, when we bring a lanthorn. I say you'll find the
walls sparkling with what-you-may-call-it--you know--that glittering
lead ore, same as we've got specimens of in the cabinet at home."
"No," said Vince; "you'll find that it'll be all smooth, worn granite at
the sides, where the water has been running for hundreds of years."
"Till it all ran away. Very well, then: let's go back at once and get a
lanthorn and the rope."
Vince laughed. "We've got to get home first, and by the time we've done
that we shan't want to make another journey to-day; but I say to-morrow
afternoon, directly after dinner. Are you willing?"
"Of course."
"And you'll bring the rope?"
"To be sure; and you the crowbar and hammer?"
Vince promised, and sat there very thoughtful, as he gazed down at the
hacked-away brambles.
"Let's put these away or throw them down," he said.
"Why?"
"Because if Old Daygo came along here, he'd see that some one had found
a way down into the Scraw."
"Daygo! What nonsense! I don't believe he ever was along here in his
life."
"Perhaps not; but he may come now, if he sees us spying about. I'm sure
he watches us."
"And I'm sure you've got a lot of nonsense in your nut about the old
chap. Now then, shall we go?"
"Yes; I'm willing. Think we can find it again?"
"Easily," said Mike. "Look up yonder: we can take those two pieces of
rock up on the ridge for our bearings. They stand as two ends of the
base A B, as Mr Deane would say, and if you draw lines from them they
will meet here at this point, C. This hole's C, and we can't mistake
it."
"No. But look here: this is better still. Look at that bit of a crag
split like a bishop's mitre."
"Yes: I see."
"We've got to get this laid-down rock in a line with it, and there are
our bearings; we can't be wrong then."
"No," cried Mike. "Who wouldn't know how to take his bearings when he's
out, and wants to mark a spot! Now then, is it lay our heads for home?"
It was a long while before either of them slept that night for thinking
of their discovery, and when they did drop off, the dark, tunnel-like
place was reproduced in their dreams.