Cormorant Crag - Part 38
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Part 38

Mike shook his head as they lay there upon their b.r.e.a.s.t.s, with their heads hidden behind tufts of heather; but Vince was right as to the old man soon going, for directly after they saw him begin to climb deliberately up to the level, look cautiously round, and then, bent of back, trudge slowly off in the direction of his home; while, as soon as he was well on his way, the boys crept downward till they were at the foot of the rocks, when Vince cried:

"Now then: lizards!" and began to crawl at a pretty good rate towards the way down to the natural dock, quite out of sight of the old man if he had looked back.

The rugged way down was reached, and here they were able to rise erect and begin to descend in the normal way, Vince starting off rapidly.

"Come on!" he cried; "old Joe will never know. I say, we have 'sarc.u.mwented' him, as he'd call it."

"Yes, it's all very well," said Mike, whose conscience was p.r.i.c.king him, "but it always seems so precious easy to do what you oughtn't to."

"Pooh!" cried Vince; "this is nothing."

"Some one is sure to say he has seen the boat out."

"Well, I don't care if he does. Joe ought to have lent us the boat; I'm sure we've done things enough for him. There, don't talk; let's get her. He might come back for something, and stop us."

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

A RISKY TRIP.

But the old fisherman did not return, and they took down mast, sail, oars, and boat-hook, cast the little craft loose, jumped in, and skilfully sent her along the channel, without startling any mullet this time. Then the tunnel was reached, pa.s.sed through, a good thrust or two given, and the boat glided out over the transparent waves, Mike thrusting an oar from the stern and sculling her along till they were well out from the shelter of the rocks, when he drew in his oar and helped to step the little mast and hoist the sail. In a few minutes more they were gliding swiftly along, with Vince cautiously holding the sheet and Mike steering.

"As if we couldn't manage a boat!" cried Vince, laughing. "Starboard a little, Ladle. Rocks."

Mike knew the sunken rocks, though, as well as he, and carefully gave them a wide berth; while, as they reached out farther from the land and caught the full power of the soft south-westerly breeze, the boat careened over, the water rattled beneath her bows, and away they went, steering so as to clear the point and get well abreast of the Scraw before going in to investigate, and try if there was an easy way of reaching the sheltered rounded cove.

For some time every rock and point was perfectly familiar; they knew every cavern and rift, and talked and chatted about the days when they had fished here, gone egging there, and climbed up or descended yonder; but after a time the rocks began to look strange.

"Good job for us that Joe's place is on the other side of the island,"

said Vince cheerily. "I say, what a game if he saw the boat going along, and took out his old gla.s.s to try and make out what craft it was?"

"But he isn't this side," said Mike. "I say, think there are any rocks out here?--because I don't know them."

"I don't think there can be," said Vince. "Remember coming out here with your father a year ago?"

"Yes," said Mike; "but we were half a mile farther out, because he said something about the current."

"Well, of course I don't know," said Vince; "but the water looks smooth and deep. We should soon see it working and boiling up if there were any rough rocks at the bottom."

"Or near the top," said Mike thoughtfully. "Now, look: oughtn't we to be seeing the ridge over the Scraw by this time?"

"Not yet," replied Vince, who was carefully scanning the coast now.

"We've only just pa.s.sed the point; and it must be yonder, farther along."

They both scanned the cliffs very carefully, but they all looked much the same--grey, forbidding, and grand, as they towered up from the water, nowhere showing a place where any one could land.

"I say," cried Vince suddenly, "we're going along at a pretty good rate, aren't we?"

"Yes, I was thinking so. Too fast: take in a bit of canvas."

Vince did not speak for a few moments, but gazed from the sail to the surface of the smooth sea and back again two or three times.

"'Tisn't the sail that carries us along so," he said at last; "she only just fills, and hardly pulls at the sheet at all. Ladle, old chap, we're in a current that's carding us along at a tremendous rate."

Mike looked at him in alarm, but Vince went on coolly.

"There's nothing to mind, so long as we keep a sharp look-out for rocks.

The old boat would crush up like an egg if she went on one now. Here, Ladle, quick! Look there!"

"What at?"

"The rocks. I mean the cliffs. Ah! port! port!--quick."

Mike obeyed, and none too soon, for as Vince was calling his attention to the shape of the cliffs ash.o.r.e, a rough, sharp pinnacle of rock rose some ten feet out of the water just in front, with others to right and left, and the boat just cleared the princ.i.p.al danger by gliding through a narrow opening and then racing on upon the other side.

Here they found rock after rock standing out, some as much as twenty feet, whitened by the sea-birds, while others were just level with the surface and washed by foam.

The way was literally strewn with dangers, and prudence suggested lowering the sail; but prudence was wrong--quick sailing was the only way to safety, so that they might have speed enough to insure good steering in the rapid current.

"We must keep on going," said Vince, "or we shall be on the rocks, as sure as we live. I say, can you keep an eye on the sh.o.r.e?"

"No: I'm obliged to mind the rocks ahead. You look."

"I can't," said Vince; "it's impossible, with all these shoals about.

Look out! here's quite a whirlpool. Port a little more--port!"

The eddy they had to pa.s.s was caused by a couple of rocks close to the surface; and in avoiding these they went stern over another, which appeared to rise suddenly out of the clear sea, and was so close that the wonder to them was that they did not touch it. But the little boat drew very little water, and probably they were a few inches above it as they glided on into deep water again.

"That was a close shave," cried Vince. "I say, it's impossible to try and find the way in there while we have to dodge in and out here."

"Think there would be less current closer in?" said Mike.

"No, I don't. Look for yourself: it's rushing along, and there are twice as many rocks. I say, Ladle, we had better get out of this as soon as we can."

Mike said nothing, but he evidently agreed, and sat there steering with his oar over the stern, his teeth set and his brow knit, gazing straight ahead for the many dangers by which they had to pa.s.s, before, to their great relief, the last seemed to be past, and they had time to turn their attention toward the sh.o.r.e.

"It's easy enough now," said Vince. "Why, that's North Point, and the Scraw must be half a mile behind!"

The current was now setting right in, as if to cross the most northern point of the island; and knowing from old experience that it was possible to get into a return current close beneath the north cliffs, they steered in, and, the breeze freshening a little, they gradually glided out of the swift race which had been bearing them along, and in a few minutes were about a hundred yards from the cliffs, in deep water, and were being carried slowly in the opposite direction--that is, back towards the place they sought to examine.

"Well, that's right enough," said Vince; "it's a regular backwater, and just what we wanted. We shall do it this time."

"Think there's any danger?" said Mike.

"Not if it keeps like this," replied Vince. "We'll go on, won't we?"

Mike nodded; and making short tacks, helped by the gentle current which was running well inside the rocks, about which they could see the tide surging, they by degrees approached the range of cliffs which they felt must be the outer boundary of the little cove.