For, now that I had grown a little used to the fog, it did not seem so
appalling, though it had grown thicker and darker till I seemed quite
shut-in.
"I'll stop where I am, Cob," came now as if from above me; "and I
daresay in a short time the wind will rise."
I answered, but I felt as if I could not keep still. I had been scared
by the sudden separation from my companions, but the startled feeling
having passed away I did not realise the extent of our danger. In fact
it seemed absurd for three strong men and a lad like me to be upset in
this way by a mist.
Uncle Dick had had a fall, but I would not believe it had been serious.
Perhaps he had only slipped down some long slope.
I crouched there in the darkness, straining my eyes to try and pierce
the mist, and at last, unable to restrain my impatience, I began to
crawl slowly on hands and knees in the direction whence my uncle's voice
seemed to come.
I crept a yard at a time very carefully, feeling round with my hands
before I ventured to move, and satisfying myself that the ground was
solid all around.
It seemed so easy, and it was so impossible that I could come to any
harm this way, that I grew more confident, and passing my hand over the
rough shale chips that were spread around amongst the short grass, I
began to wonder how my uncles could have been so timid, and not have
made a brave effort to escape from our difficulty.
I kept on, growing more and more confident each moment in spite of the
thick darkness that surrounded me, for it seemed so much easier than
crouching there doing nothing for myself. But I went very cautiously,
for I found I was on a steep slope, and that very little would have been
required to send me sliding down.
Creep, creep, creep, a yard in two or three minutes, but still I was
progressing somewhere, and even at this rate I thought that I could join
either of my companions when I chose.
I had made up my mind to go a few yards further and then speak, feeling
sure that I should be close to Uncle Bob, and that then we could go on
together and find Uncle Jack.
I had just come to this conclusion, and was thrusting out my right hand
again, when, as I tried to set it down, there was nothing there.
I drew it in sharply and set it down close to the other as I knelt, and
then passed it slowly from me over the loose scraps of slaty stone to
find it touch the edge of a bank that seemed to have been cut off
perpendicularly, and on passing my hand over, it touched first soft turf
and earth and then scrappy loose fragments of shale.
This did not startle me, for it appeared to be only a little depression
in the ground, but thrusting out one foot I found that go over too, so
that I knew I must be parallel with the edge of the trench or crack in
the earth.
I picked up a piece of shale and threw it from me, listening for its
fall, but no sound came, so I sat down with one leg over the depression
and kicked with my heel to loosen a bit of the soil.
I was a couple of feet back, and as I kicked I felt the ground I sat
upon quiver; then there was a loud rushing sound, and I threw myself
down clinging with my hands, for a great piece of the edge right up to
where I sat had given way and gone down, leaving me with my legs hanging
over the edge, and but for my sudden effort I should have fallen.
"What was that?" cried a voice some distance above me.
"It is I, Uncle Bob," I panted. "Come and help me."
I heard a fierce drawing in of the breath, and then a low crawling
sound, and little bits of stone seemed to be moved close by me.
"Where are you, boy?" came again.
"Here."
"Can you crawl to me? I'm close by your head."
"No," I gasped. "If I move I'm afraid I shall fall."
There was the same fierce drawing in of the breath, the crawling sound
again, and a hand touched my face, passed round it, and took a tight
hold of my collar.
"Lie quite still, Cob," was whispered; "I'm going to draw you up. Now!"
I felt myself dragged up suddenly, and at the same moment the earth and
stones upon which I had been lying dropped from under me with a loud
hissing rushing sound, and then I was lying quite still, clinging to
Uncle Bob's hand, which was very wet and cold.
"How did you come there?" he said at length.
"Crawled there, trying to get to you," I said.
"And nearly went down that fearful precipice, you foolish fellow. But
there: you are safe."
"I did not know it was so dangerous," I faltered.
"Dangerous!" he cried. "It is awful in this horrible darkness. The
mountain seems to have been cut in half somewhere about here, and this
fog confuses so that it is impossible to stir. We must wait till it
blows off I think we are safe now, but I dare not try to find a better
place. Dare you?"
"Not after what I have just escaped from," I said dolefully.
"Are you cold?"
"Ye-es," I said with a shiver. "It is so damp."
"Creep close to me, then," he said. "We shall keep each other warm."
We sat like that for hours, and still the fog kept as dense as ever,
only that overhead there was a faint light, which grew stronger and then
died out over and over again. The stillness was awful, but I had a
companion, and that made my position less painful. He would not talk,
though as a rule he was very bright and chatty; now he would only say,
"Wait and see;" and we waited.
The change came, after those long terrible hours of anxiety, like magic.
One moment it was thick darkness; the next I felt, as it were, a
feather brush across my cheek.
"Did you feel that?" I said quickly.
"Feel what, Cob?"
"Something breathing against us?"
"No--yes!" he cried joyfully. "It was the wind."
The same touch came again, but stronger. There was light above our
heads. I could dimly see my companion, and then a cloud that looked
white and strange in the moonlight was gliding slowly away from us over
what seemed to be a vast black chasm whose edge was only a few yards
away.
It was wonderful how quickly that mist departed and went skimming away
into the distance, as if a great curtain were being drawn, leaving the
sky sparkling with stars and the moon shining bright and clear.
"You see now the danger from which you escaped?" said Uncle Bob with a
shudder.
"Yes," I said; "but did--do you think--"
He looked at me without answering, and just then there came from behind
us a loud "Ahoy!"
"Ahoy!" shouted back Uncle Bob; and as we turned in the direction of the
cry we could see Uncle Jack waving his white handkerchief to us, and we
were soon after by his side.
They gripped hands without a word as they met, and then after a short
silence Uncle Jack said:
"We had better get on and descend on the other, side."
"But Uncle Dick!" I cried impetuously; "are you not going to search for
Uncle Dick?"
The brothers turned upon me quite fiercely, but neither of them spoke;
and for the next hour we went stumbling on down the steep slope of the
great hill, trying to keep to the sheep-tracks, which showed pretty
plainly in the moonlight, but every now and then we went astray.
My uncles were wonderfully quiet, but they kept steadily on; and I did
not like to break their communings, and so trudged behind them, noting
that they kept as near as seemed practicable to the place where the
mountain ended in a precipice; and now after some walking I could look
back and see that the moon was shining full upon the face of the hill,
which looked grey and as if one end had been dug right away.
On we went silently and with a settled determined aim, about which no
one spoke, but perhaps thought all the more.
I know that I thought so much about the end of our quest that I kept
shuddering as I trudged on, with sore feet, feeling that in a short time
we should be turning sharp round to our left so as to get to the foot of
the great precipice, where the hill had been gnawed away by time, and
where the loose earth still kept shivering down.
It was as I expected; we turned sharp off to the left and were soon
walking with our faces towards the grey-looking face, that at first
looked high, but, as we went on, towered up more and more till the
height seemed terrific.
It was a weary heart-rending walk before we reached the hill-like slope
where the loose shaley rock and earth was ever falling to add to the
_debris_ up which we climbed.
"There's no telling exactly where he must have come over," said Uncle
Jack, after we had searched about some time, expecting moment by moment
to come upon the insensible form of our companion. "We must spread out
more."
For we neither of us would own to the possibility of Uncle Dick being
killed. For my part I imagined that he would have a broken leg,
perhaps, or a sprained ankle. If he had fallen head-first he might have
put out his shoulder or broken his collar-bone. I would not imagine
anything worse.
The moon was not so clear now, for fleecy clouds began to sail across it
and made the search more difficult, as we clambered on over the shale,
which in the steepest parts gave way under our feet. But I determinedly
climbed on, sure that if I got very high up I should be able to look
down and see where Uncle Dick was lying.
To this end I toiled higher and higher, till I could fairly consider
that I was touching the face of the mountain where the slope of _debris_
began; and I now found that the precipice sloped too, being anything but
perpendicular.
"Can you see him, Cob?" cried Uncle Jack from below.
"No," I said despondently.
"Stay where you are," he cried again, "quite still."
That was impossible, for where I stood the shale was so small and loose
that I was sliding down slowly; but I made very little noise, and just
then Uncle Jack uttered a tremendous--
"Dick, ahoy!"
There was a pause and he shouted again:
"Dick, ahoy!"
"Ahoy!" came back faintly from somewhere a long way off.
"There he is!" I cried.
"No--an echo," said Uncle Jack. "Ahoy!"
"Ahoy!" came back.
"There, you see--an echo."
"Ahoy!" came again.
"That's no echo," cried Uncle Bob joyfully. "Dick!"
He shouted as loudly as he could.
"Ahoy!"
"There! It was no echo. He's all right; and after falling down here he
has worked his way out and round the other side, where we went up first,
while we came down the other way and missed him."
"Dick, ahoy!" he shouted again; "where away?"
"Ahoy!" came back, and we had to consult.
"If we go up one way to meet him he will come down the other," said
Uncle Bob. "There's nothing for it but to wait till morning or divide,
and one of us go up one side while the other two go up the other."
Uncle Jack snapped his watch-case down after examining the face by the
pale light of the moon.
"Two o'clock," he said, throwing himself on the loose shale. "Ten
minutes ago, when we were in doubt, I felt as if I could go on for hours
with the search. Now I know that poor old Dick is alive I can't walk
another yard."