I'm afraid that we thought very little about Bigley's escape from a
horrible death, for by nine o'clock the next morning he was over at the
Bay, and while we were talking outside, Bob Chowne came trotting up,
holding on to the mane of his father's pony, for the doctor had ridden
over to see my father.
Half an hour later we were down on the beach to look for our baskets and
nets which had been covered by the tide, and which we were too much
exhausted to hunt for after our escape.
For a long time we had no success, for, until the tide ran lower, we
were not quite sure of the spot; but we hung about hour after hour till
the cluster of rocks were uncovered, and as soon as the water was low
enough we were down at the place, and, but for the labour necessary to
bale out the lower pool, we should, I am sure, have crawled in again to
try how it was Bigley was held.
It did not take much examination to show that, however, for it was plain
enough now to see how one part of the opening was a good deal narrower
than the other; and here it was that Bigley had become fast, never once
striving in his horror to get back, but always forward like an animal in
a trap.
As I stood there looking, the whole scene appeared to come back again,
and I shuddered as I seemed to see my school-fellow's agonised face
gazing appealingly in ours, and for the moment the bright sunny day
looked overcast.
"Come away," I said nervously; "let's look for the nets."
"Ha, ha, ha!" laughed Bob, who had quite recovered his spirits and took
up his usual manner; "look at old Sep! He's frightened, and thinks it's
his turn to be stuck in the rock."
"Never mind; let's look for the nets," said Bigley, who seemed to be
more in sympathy with me, and we set to work, finding one before long,
buried all but a scrap of the net in the beach sand and shingle.
This encouraged us, and we hunted with more vigour, finding another
wedged in between some blocks of rock, and soon after we discovered
something that we had certainly expected would have been swept out to
sea, namely, one of the baskets.
It was the one which contained the crab, and it had been driven into a
rock pool surrounded by masses of stone, which had held it as the tide
retired.
To our great satisfaction the crab was still inside alive and uninjured;
but we found no more relics of our expedition. The other baskets were
gone with the eel and prawns, and the third net was wanting. I must
except, though, one of Bigley's shoes, which had been cast up four
hundred yards from the rock pool, and lay at high-water mark in a heap
of sea-weed, battered wreck-wood and shells.
I am not going to enumerate all our adventures during those holidays;
but I must refer to one or two more before passing on for a time to the
more serious matters in connection with the silver mine in the Gap,
where, while we were enjoying ourselves on the shore or up one of the
narrow glens baling out holes to catch the trout, business matters were
progressing fast. Our mishap was soon forgotten, and we determined to
have another prawning trip, for, as Bob Chowne said, there was no risk
over it, if we didn't go and stick ourselves between two stones ready
for the tide to come in and drown us. "But it was an accident," said
Bigley gravely. "Oh, no, it wasn't," cried Bob; "an accident's where
you can't help it--where a boat upsets, or a horse falls down, or a
wheel falls off, or you slip over the edge of the cliff."
"Well, that was an accident too," I said; "wasn't he nearly drowned?"
"No," cried Bob, "not nearly; and how could it be an accident when he
crept into the hole, and turned round and stuck fast when he tried to
get out?"
It was of no use to argue with Bob that morning, as we three ran down to
the shore after finding that old Uggleston's lugger was at sea, crushing
the weed under our feet, and enjoying the curious salt smell that
ascended to our nostrils. We had another net, and a big basket,
borrowed of our Sam. It was not so handy as our old ones, for two of us
had to carry it; but as I said it would hold plenty, and we could lay a
bit of old net over the prawns to keep them from flicking themselves
out.
"I don't believe we shall catch any to-day," said Bob, who was in one of
his hedgehog fits, as Bigley used to call them. But he was wrong, for
after walking about a mile along the shore, so as to go right away from
the cottages, the first pool we stopped at gave us three fine fat
fellows.
In another we were more successful, and as we roamed: farther and
farther away the better became our sport.
This time we went on past the Gap, and under the tremendous cliffs that
kept the sun from shining down upon the shore in winter. Then on and on
with our numbers always increasing, for we passed very few pools that
did not contain one prawn at least.
"I tell you what," said Bob, as we stopped to rest, net in hand; "we'll
go to old Big's this afternoon, and get Mother Bonnet to boil the
prawns, and then have a thorough good feast. You'll find us some bread
and butter, won't you, Big?"
"Of course," he replied; "but we haven't got them home yet."
"No," said Bob, "we haven't got them home; but you're not going to get
stuck in a hole this time, are you?"
Bigley shook his head, and the remarks were forgotten, as we discovered,
just washed in by the tide, a good-sized cuttlefish, that was quite
dead, however, having been killed I suppose by being bruised against the
rocks, so we were not favoured with a shower of ink.
A little farther on we came to a bare smooth patch of dark sand, over
which the sea ran gently, sweeping before it a rim of foam which
sparkled and displayed iridescent colours like a soap-bubble. Here we
found our first jelly-fish, a beautifully clear disc of transparency
about the size of a penny bun, and from which, when we plunged it in the
first rock pool, hung down quite a lovely fringe of the most delicate
hues.
Perhaps it was too nearly dead from being washed ashore, for it did not
sting, as some of these creatures do slightly, when encountered while
bathing.
We thought the jelly-fish curious, but it was not good to eat, so it was
left in the little rock pool with a few tiny shrimps, to get well or
die, and we went on kicking over the little shells, getting our feet
wet, and finding more prawn-haunted pools, as we made for one big rock
which lay close to the water's edge, a quarter of a mile farther on,
where it stood up in the midst of a clump of smaller ones, the beach
around being tolerably level for some distance.
"That's where old Binnacle always goes when he wants to find a lobster,"
said Bigley; "and I shouldn't wonder if we get one, for he hasn't been
there lately."
"How do you know?" I said.
"Because he hasn't sold one, nor given us one, nor had one himself."
"There, hark at him!" cried Bob. "How can you tell?"
"Easy enough."
"But how?"
"Haven't lobsters got shells?"
"Yes."
"And aren't they red?"
"Why, of course they are."
"Well, don't they always throw the shells out on the heap by the
pig-sty?" cried Bigley. "And there hasn't been one there since I came
home. Old Bill has been too busy making a new net to go lobstering."
"I say, what a day for a bathe!" cried Bob suddenly, as we approached
the big rock which formed out here a point, from which a series of
smaller rocks ran right to sea, for the heads of some were level with
the surface, and others only appeared at times.
"Why, you couldn't bathe here," said Big; "you ought to know that."
"Why not?" cried Bob.
"Because the tide hits against those rocks, and then runs right out to
sea like the river runs down the Gap after a storm."
"Oh, I don't believe all these old stories," cried Bob contemptuously;
"and suppose it did run out, couldn't I swim out of the stream and come
ashore?"
"No."
"Oh, couldn't I? Precious soon let you see."
"Hi! Look there," cried Bigley, "there's father's boat."
"Where?" I said.
"Out yonder. He has been with Binnacle Bill to Swincombe, and that's
them coming back."
"Why, you can't see anything but a bit of sail," cried Bob scoffingly,
as he shaded his eyes and looked far-off into the west.
"No, but I know the shape of it," cried Bigley. "There isn't another
boat hereabouts with a sail like that."
"I don't believe you know it," cried Bob. "It's a Frenchman, or a
Dutchman, or a Welsh boat."
"Well, you'll see," said Bigley decisively, and the matter dropped, for
we were close up to the big rock now, a mass that stood about a dozen
feet above the beach, and to our great delight there were several little
pools about, all of which seemed to be well occupied by the toothsome
delicacies we sought.
The baskets were set down and we were soon hard at work catching prawn
after prawn; but, though we peered into every crack, and routed about as
far as we could reach, there was no sign of a lobster large or small.
"Never mind," said Bob sourly, "they're rather out of season if you do
catch them now. I don't mind."
For another half hour or so, with the tide coming whispering and lapping
in, we went on prawning, getting a dozen fine ones.
Then Bob insisted upon bathing, and it was only by an effort we stopped
him from going into the water at so dangerous a spot.
It was Big who took off his attention at last, by telling him that he
could not scale the big rock and get on the top.
"Tchah!" cried Bob sneeringly; "why, I could almost hop on it."
We laughed at him, and he began to peer about for one of the surrounding
pieces to form a step to help him part of the way, but all were too
distant, the great stone lying quite isolated. There was one spot,
though, where the big stone was split, as if some gigantic wedge had
been driven in to open it a little way, and here, as it was encrusted
with limpets, there seemed to be a good prospect for us to climb up the
roughened sides.
As it proved it was like many tasks in life, it looked more difficult
than it really was, and by the exercise of a little agility and some
mutual help we contrived to get to the top, where there was a large
depression like a caldron, scooped out by the action of the sea upon a
heavy boulder lying therein, and which looked as if, when the waves
beat, it must be driven round and round and to and fro.
We all sat down with our legs in the hole, following Bigley's example as
he set himself to watch the coming of his father's boat, which was
growing plainer now every minute, and trying, by spreading all the sail
she could, to reach the Gap.
"I wonder how long she'll be?" said Bob, sitting there with his chin
upon his hands.
"About an hour," replied Bigley.
"What! Coming that little way? Why, she's close here."
"It isn't close here, and the boat's a good six miles away, I know,"
replied Bigley. "Distances are deceiving by the sea-side."
"Hark at the doctor," cried Bob; "he's going to give us a lecture. I
say, this isn't school."
It was very pleasant seated there on that smooth, warm platform of rock
in the glowing sunshine, and with the soft sea-breeze fanning our
cheeks. There was plenty of room, and before long we were all lying
down in various attitudes. Bob turned himself into a spread-eagle by
lying upon his back, and tilting his cap over his nose as he announced
that he was going to sleep.
We both laughed and did not believe him, as we each took up the position
most agreeable to him, Bigley stretching himself upon his breast,
folding his arms and placing his chin upon them, so as to gaze at his
father's boat with undivided attention.
As for me, I lay on my side to stare at the great wall of cliff that ran
along the land, and curved over and over into great hills and mounds.
It was very beautiful to watch the many tints in the distance, and the
bright colours of the broken rock. The upper parts were of a velvety
green; then in the hollows where the oak-trees flourished there were
endless tints, against which the soft grey of the gulls, as they floated
along, seemed to stand out bright and clear.
We three lads had been walking and climbing and exerting ourselves for
hours now, and the strange restful sensation of stretching one's self on
that warm, smooth mass of rock was delicious.
To make it more agreeable, the soft wind fanned our faces, and the sea
seemed to be whispering in a curious lulling way that was delightful.
I remember raising myself a little to look at Bob Chowne in his lazy
attitude. Then I stared at Bigley, who had doubled back his long legs,
as he watched the boat, whose sails seemed to be coming nearer now, and
then I sank back in my former attitude, to gaze at the cliffs and the
soft blue sky flecked with silvery gauzy clouds.
Then one of the big grey gulls fixed my attention, and I lay staring at
it hard, and watching its movements, as I wondered why it was that it
should keep flying to and fro, for nothing apparently, turning itself so
easily by a movement of the tail, and curving round and round without an
effort.
That gull completely fascinated me. Sometimes it floated softly so near
that I could plainly see its clear ringed eye and the colour of its
beak, the soft white of its head and under parts, the delicate grey of
its back, and the black tips of its wings, which formed soft bends that
sustained the great bird with the slightest exertion. For now and then
it beat the air a little, then the wings remained motionless a minute at
a time, and the secret of flying seemed to me to be to float about in
that clear transparent air, just as a fish did in the sea.
It was very wonderful to watch it, feeling so dreamy and restful the
while. The gull seemed to have fixed its eyes on me, and to know that I
was noting all its graceful evolutions, and I felt that it was flying
and floating and gliding to and fro, and round and round, now up, now
down, on purpose to show off its powers to me, for it never occurred to
me that the bird was waiting till my eyes were closed to make a pounce
down upon the big basket and help itself to the prawns.
No, it all seemed done for my special benefit, and lulled by the lapping
of the sea, and with the fanning motion of the gull's wings having a
curiously drowsy effect, I lay there watching--watching, till I seemed
to be able to float with the gull, and to be gliding onward and onward
through space, up and down, up and down, in a soft billowy, heaving
movement, with the blue sky above me, the green cliff-side draped with
oak and ivy below, and all about me, and pervading me and sustaining me
as the sea did when I swam, there was the soft pure air.
Was I a gull or myself? I did not know, only that I seemed to be
floating deliciously on with wide-spread invisible wings, and that there
was no such thing as the earth and shore, over which I laboriously
plodded, for me.
It was one soft dreamy ecstasy, such as comes to the weary sleeping in
the summer breeze out in the open air. Now and then I seemed to hear
the wild softened harshness of the gull's cry, then all was still again,
and I was floating on and on, wishing nothing, wanting nothing, only to
go on, when all at once a huge roc-like bird seemed to sweep over
between me and the sunshine, to grasp me as Sindbad was seized, and
raise me up.
But this roc spoke and cried harshly:
"Quick! Wake up! You have been to sleep."
"Sleep?" I said, rousing myself. "Sleep?"
"Yes; we've all been to sleep, and--Here, Bob! Wake up! Wake up!"
He shook Bob Chowne, who was so sound that it was with difficulty he
could be made to sit up, and in that little interval I realised why it
was that Bigley looked so scared.
It was plain enough: tired out with our prawning, we had been
thoughtless enough to let our weariness get the better of us, and while
we had slept the enemy had not only approached, but surrounded us and
cut us off from the shore. In fact, as we stared about us, a wave
struck the rock and sent its soft spray right up to where we were
standing.
"Here, what's the matter?" cried Bob. "I say, what is it? Oh, I say,
where are the prawns?"
Prawns? They and the baskets were far away now, while the nets might be
anywhere. Between us and the shore the water for a good hundred yards
was six feet deep at least, and there was a swim of a hundred and fifty
before we could begin to wade, while, if we did not start at once, there
would be a swim of nearly half a mile, for the points of the little bay
where we were would soon be covered, the rocks were perpendicular, and
to stay in the bay was to be drowned.