"Course we would--we'd see his remains--we'd see his basket, or his hat, floatin and driftin about. But thar's not a basket or a hat anywhar to be seen."

"The cliff is long here, and runs in so from that point, that if he went up any distance, it would be easy for him to be caught by the rising tide."

"Course it would. O, yes, course. That's the very thing that struck me. It's very dangerous for an ole inexperienced man. But come, we mustn't stand talkin, we must hurry on, or we may as well go back agin, at onst."

Starting forward, they walked on for some time in silence. For about a hundred yards they were able to keep close to the edge of the cliff, so as to look over; but after that they encountered a dense alder thicket.

In order to traverse this, they had to go farther inland, where there was some sort of an opening. There they came to a wood where the underbrush was thick, and the walking difficult. This they traversed, and at length worked their way once more to the edge of the cliff.

Looking down here, they found the scene very much like what it had been farther back. The waves were dashing beneath them among rocks whose black crests were at times visible among the foam, while from the cliffs there were the same projecting shelves which they had noticed before.

"See there!" cried Bart, pointing to a place behind them. "Do you see how the cliff seems to go in there--just where the alder bushes grow?

That looks like a place where a man might be caught. I wonder if he isn't there."

"Can't we go and see?"

"I don't think you can git thar."

"O, it isn't far," said Bart. "I'll run back and look down. The rest of you had better go on; I'll join you soon."

"I'll go with you," said Bruce.

"Very well."

Bruce and Bart then set out, and forced their way through the dense alder bushes, until at length they found themselves near the place.

Here there was a chasm in the line of cliff, reaching from the top to the bottom. The sides were precipitous, and they could see perfectly well all the way down. At the bottom the water was rolling and tossing; and this, together with the precipitous cliffs, showed them plainly that no one could have found shelter here.

Sadly and silently they returned, and rejoined the others, who had been walking along in advance.

"Wal?" said Captain Corbet, interrogatively.

Bart shook his head.

They then walked on for some time in silence. "Come," said Captain Corbet; "we've been makin one mistake ever sence we started."

"What's that?"

"We've kep altogether too still. How do we know but we've pa.s.sed him somewhar along down thar. We can't see behind all them corners."

"Let's shout now--the rest of the way."

"Yes; that's it; yell like all possessed."

The cries of the boys now burst forth in shrill screams and yells, which were echoed among the woods and rocks around.

"Now," cried Captain Corbet, "all together!"

The boys shouted all together.

"That'll fetch him," said the captain, "ef anythin doos. It's a pity we didn't think of this afore. What an ole fool I must ha ben to forgit that!"

The boys now walked on shouting, and screaming, and yelling incessantly, and waiting, from time to time, to listen for an answer.

But no answer came.

At times Captain Corbet's voice sounded forth. His cry was a very peculiar one. It was high pitched, shrill, and penetrating, and seemed as though it ought to be heard for miles. But the united voices of the boys, and the far-piercing yell of the captain, all sounded equally in vain. No response came, and at last, after standing still and listening for a longer time than usual, they all looked despondingly at one another, as though each were waiting for the other to suggest some new plan of action.

Captain Corbet stood and looked musingly out upon the sea, as though the sight of the rolling waters a.s.sisted his meditations. It was some time before he spoke.

"I tell you what it is, boys," said he at last. "We've ben makin another mistake."

"How so?"

"We've gone to work wrong."

"Well, what can we do now?"

"Wal, fust an foremost, I muve we go back on our tracks."

"Go back?"

"Yas."

"Why?"

"Wal, you see, one thing,--Solomon can't hev come further than this by no possibility, onless he started straight off to walk all the way up the bay agin, back to Petticoat Jack by the sh.o.r.e route,--an as that's too rough a route for an ole man, why, I calc'late it's not to be thought of. Ef, on the contrairy, he only kem out to hunt for fish, 'tain't likely he come as fur as this, an in my pinion he didn't come nigh as fur. You see we're a good piece on, and Solomon wouldn't hev come so fur if he'd cal'lated to get back to the schewner. What d'ye say to that?"

"I've thought of that already," said Bruce, sadly. "We've certainly gone as far as he could possibly have gone."

"Terrew," said Captain Corbet, solemnly.

"But what can we do now?" asked Bart.

"Fust of all, go back."

"What! give him up?"

"I didn't say that. I said to go back, an keep a good lookout along the sh.o.r.e."

"But we've done that already."

"Yes, I know; but then we didn't begin to yell till quite lately, whereas we'd ought to hev yelled from the time of fust startin. Now, I think ef we went back yellin all the way, we'd have a chance of turnin him up somewhar back thar whar we fust came in sight of the cliff.

Very likely, if he ain't already drownded, he's a twisted himself up in some holler in the cliff back thar. He couldn't hev got this fur, certain,--unless he'd ben a runnin away."

All this seemed so certain to the boys that they had nothing to say in opposition to it. In fact, as Bruce said, they had already gone as far as Solomon could possibly have gone, and this thought had occurred to them all. Captain Corbet's proposition, therefore, seemed to them the only course to follow. So they all turned and went back again.

"What I was a goin to say," remarked Captain Corbet, after walking a few paces,--"what I was a goin to say was this. The mistake I made was in not gettin a boat."

"A boat? Why we've traced the coast from the cliff well enough--haven't we?"