Chapter 3. A Day At Sea

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_ CHAPTER THREE. A DAY AT SEA

Daygo's big boots crushed something beside the heather and little tufts of fine golden gorse; for as they went along a slope the sweet aromatic scent of wild thyme floated to the boys' nostrils; and the bees, startled from their quest for honey, darted to right and left, with a low, humming noise, which was the treble, in Nature's music, to the soft, low bass which came in a deep whisper from over the cliff to the right. And as the boys drew in long, deep draughts of the pure, fresh air which bathed their island home, their eyes were full of that happy light which spoke volumes of how they were in the full tide of true enjoyment of life in their brightest days.

They could not have expressed what they felt--perhaps they were unconscious of the fact: that knowledge was only to come later on, in the lookings-back of maturity; but they knew that the moor about them seemed beautiful, and there was a keen enjoyment of everything upon which their eyes rested, whether it was the purple and golden-green slope, or the wondrous lights upon the ever-changing sea.

"Hi! look! There goes a mag," cried Mike, as one of the brilliantly plumed birds rose suddenly from among some grey crags, and went off in its peculiar flight, the white of its breast of the purest, and the sun glancing from the purple, gold and green upon its wings and lengthy tail.

"Hooray!--another--and another--and another!" cried Vince, who the next moment passed from the enjoyment of the beautiful in nature to the grotesque; for he covered his lips with one hand to smother a laugh, and pointed with the other to a huge square patch of drugget laboriously stitched upon the back of the solid-looking trousers to strengthen them for sitting upon the thwart of a boat, a rock, or a bush of furze, which, when so guarded against, makes a pleasantly elastic seat.

But Vince's companion did not find it so easy to control his mirth; for, as he gazed at the gigantic trousers in motion along the slope, their appearance seemed so comic, in conjunction with Vince's mirthful face, that he burst into a hearty laugh.

Vince gave him a heavy punch in the ribs, which was intended to mean: "Now you've done it: he won't let us come!"

But old Daygo did not look round; he only shook his head and shouted:

"Won't do, young Ladle--_Ladelle_: you're thinking about the tar water, but you can't be so funny as he."

The boys exchanged glances, but did not try to explain; neither speaking till, to their surprise, the man turned suddenly to his right, and made for a huge buttress which ran out some fifty feet from the rugged edge of the cliff and ended in a soft patch of sheep-nibbled, velvet grass, upon which lay, partly buried, a couple of long iron guns, while the remains of a breastwork of stone guarded the edge of the cliff.

"I say! where are you going?" cried Vince.

"Eh? Here," said the man, sitting down astride of one of the old cannon. "Think I was going to pitch you off?"

"No," said Vince coolly, as he went close to the edge and looked down at the deeply-coloured purple, almost black, water at the foot of the cliff, where there was not an inch of strand. "Wouldn't much matter if you did: it's awfully deep there, and no rocks. I could swim."

"Swim? Wheer?" said the man sharply. "No man could swim far there. T'reble currents and deep holes, where the tide runs into and sucks you down if it don't take you out to sea. Nobody's safe there."

"Might go all right in a boat," said Vince, still gazing down, attracted by the place, where he had often watched before, and noted how the cormorants, shags, and rock-doves flew in and out, disappearing beneath his feet--for the great buttress overhung the sea, and its face could only be seen by those who sailed by.

"Nay, nay; no one goes in a boat along here, boy. There, I'm going to fill my pipe and light it, and then we'll go. Which o' you's got a sun-glass?"

"I have," said Vince quickly.

"Let's have it, then: save me nicking about with my flint and steel."

The rough black pipe was filled, and the convex lens held so that the sun's rays were brought to a focus on the tobacco, which dried rapidly, crisped up, and soon began to smoke, when a few draws ignited the whole surface, and the man began to puff slowly and regularly as he handed back the glass.

"It's nothing a boy could do," he said, with one of his fierce, grim looks, "so don't you two get a-glowering at a pipe like that."

"Get out!" said Vince quickly. "I wasn't thinking about that. I was wondering who first found out that you could get fire from the sun."

"Some chap as had a spy-glass," said the old fellow, "and unscrewed the bottom same as I do when I wants a light. Might ha' fired one o' these here with a glass if you put a bit o' tinder in the touch-hole."

"Yes," said Vince, "if the French had come."

"Tchah!" ejaculated the man contemptuously: "all fools who put the guns about the island! No Frenchies couldn't ha' come and landed here. Wants some one as knows every rock to sail a small boat, let alone a ship o' war. All gone to pieces on the rocks if they'd tried."

"Same as the old Spaniards did with the Armada," said Vince.

"Spannles! Did they come?"

"To be sure they did, and got wrecked and beaten and sunk, and all sorts."

"Sarve 'em right for being such fools as to come without a man aboard as knowed the rocks and currents and tides. Dessay I could ha' showed 'em; on'y there's nowhere for 'em to harbour."

"You'd better not try, if ever they want to come again," cried Vince, with animation. "Father says you are a Spaniard."

"Me?" cried the man, starting. "Not me. I'm English, flesh and bone."

"No: father says Spanish."

"Your father knows something about salts and senny," growled the old fellow, "but I know more about Joe Daygo o' the Crag than any man going. English right down to my boots."

"No: Spanish descent, father says," persisted Vince. "He says he goes by your face and your name."

"What does he mean?" said the man fiercely. "Good a face as his'n!"

"And principally by your nose. He says it's a regular Spanish one."

"He don't know what he's talking about," growled the old man, rubbing the feature in question. "How can it be Spanish when all the rest of me's English?"

"It's the shape," continued Vince; while Mike lay on his back, listened, and stared up at the grey gulls which went sailing round between him and the vividly blue sky. "He says there isn't another nose in the island a bit like it."

"Tell him he'd better leave my nose alone. But he is right there: there arn't a nose like it--they're all round or stunted, or turn t'other way up."

"Then he says your name Daygo's only a corruption of Diego, which is Spanish for James."

"Yah! It's Daygo--Joe Daygo--and not James at all. He's thinking about Jemmy Carnach."

"And he says he feels sure your people came over with the Spanish Armada, and you're descended from some sailor, named Diego, who was wrecked."

"You tell your father to mix his physic," grumbled the man sourly.--"Here, are you two going to stop here talking all day?"

"No," cried Mike, springing up, his example being followed by Vince, who was riding on the breech of the other gun.

"Then come on," growled the man, who made off now at a tremendous rate. Away over furze, and up and down over sunny slopes, where the fallow-chats rose, showing their white tail coverts; in and out among bare patches of granite, which rose above the great clumps of gorse; and still on, till all before them was sea. Then he began to rapidly descend a gully, where everything that was green was left behind, and they were between two vast walls of rock, almost shut-in by a natural breakwater stretching across, half covered by the sea and sand. Below them, in a natural pool, lay a boat which might have been built and launched to sail upon the tiny dock of stone; for there was apparently no communication with the sea, so well was it shut off from where, as the bare and worn masses of grey rock showed, the waves must come thundering in when the west wind blew.

Old Daygo went clumping down in his heavy boots, and the boys followed, soon to reach where stones as big as cheeses lay in a long slope, whither they had been hurled by the storms, and were rolled over till they were smooth and roughly round as the pebbles in a stream. Next they had to mount a great barrier, which now hid the boat, and then descended to its side, where it lay in the pool, only about twice as big as itself, but which proved now to be the widening out of a huge crack in the granite rocks, and zigzagged along to the sea, full of clear water at all times, and forming a sheltered canal to the tiny dock.

"Some on 'em 'd like to have that bit o' harbour," said the man, with a grin which showed his great white teeth; "but it's mine, and always will be. Jump in."

The boys obeyed, and the man fetched a boat-hook with a very sharp, keen point, from where it hung, in company with some well-tarred ropes, nets, and other fishing-gear, in a sheltered nook amongst the rocks, and then joined them, and began to push the boat along the narrow waterway.

At the first wave sent rippling outward by the movement of the boat, there was a rush and splash a dozen yards in front, as a shoal of good-sized fish darted seaward, some in their hurry leaping right out of the water, to fall in again with a plunge, which scared the rest in their flight.

The boys sprang up excitedly, and Daygo nodded.

"Ay," he said, "if we'd knowed they was there, we might ha' crep along the rocks and dropped a net acrost, and then caught the lot."

"Mullet, weren't they?" said Vince.

"Yes: grey ones," said Mike, shading his eyes, and following the wave made by the retiring shoal.

"Ay--grey mullet, come up to see if there was anything to eat. Smelt where I'd been cleaning fish and throwing it into the water."

The boat went on after the shoal of fish, in and out along the great jagged rift leading seaward, their way seeming to be barred by a towering pyramid of rock partly detached from the main island, while the sides of the fault grew higher and higher till they closed in overhead, forming a roughly-arched tunnel, nearly dark; but as soon as they were well in, the light shining through the end and displaying a framed picture of lustrous sea glittering in the sunlight, of which enough was reflected to show that the sides of the tunnel-like cavern were dotted with limpets, and the soft, knob-shaped, contracted forms of sea anemones that, below the surface, would have displayed tentacles of every tint, studded, as it were, with gems.

The roof a few feet above their heads echoed, and every word spoken went whispering along, while the iron point and hook of the implement old Daygo used gave forth a loud, hollow, sounding click as it was struck upon side or roof from time to time.

"I say," cried Vince suddenly, "we never tried for a conger along here, Mike."

"No good," growled Daygo.

"Why?" said Vince, argumentatively. "Looks just the place for them: it's dark and deep."

"Ay, so it is, boy; and I daresay there arn't so many of they mullet gone back to sea as come up the hole."

"Then there are congers here?"

"Ay, big uns, too; but the bottom's all covered with rocks, and there's holes all along for the eels to run in, and when you hook 'em they twist in, and you only lose your line."

He gave the boat a vigorous shove, and it glided out into the light once more, a hundred yards from the cliff, but with the rugged pyramid of granite through which they had passed towering up behind them, and its many shelves dotted with sea-birds lazily sunning themselves and stretching out their wings to dry.

A few flew up, uttering peculiar cries, as the boat darted out of the dark arch beneath them; but, for the most part, they merely looked down and took no further notice--the boat and its little crew being too familiar an object to excite their fear, especially as its occupants did not land, and the egg-time was at an end.

"Now, then, up with the mast, lads!" said the old man; and cleverly enough the boys stepped the little spar by thrusting its end through a hole in the forward thwart and down into a socket fixed in the inner part of the keel. Then the stays were hooked on, hauled taut, and up went the little lug-sail smartly enough, the patch of brown tanned canvas filling at once, and sending the boat gliding gently along over the rocks which showed clearly deep down through the crystal sea.

"Soon know how to manage a boat yourselves," said the old man grimly, as he thrust an oar over the stern and used it to steer.

"Manage a boat ourselves!" cried Mike. "I should think we could--eh, Vince?"

"Should think you could!" said the old man laughing. "Ah! you think you could, but you can't. Why, I hardly know how yet, after trying for fifty year. Wants some larning, boys, when tide's low, and the rocks are bobbing up and down ready to make holes in the bottom. Don't you two be too sure, and don't you never go along here far without me."

The boys said nothing; but they felt the truth of the man's words as he steered them in and out among the jagged masses of granite, around which the glassy currents glided, now covering them from sight, now leaving bare their weed-hung, broken-out fangs; while on their left, as they steered north toward a huge projection, which ran right out on the far side of a little bay, the perpendicular cliffs rose up grey and grand, defended by buttresses formed by masses that had fallen, and pierced every here and there by caverns, into which the water ran and rushed with strange, hollow, whispering noises and slaps and gurglings, as if there were peculiar creatures far up in the darkness resenting being disturbed.

Every now and then the sea, as it heaved and sank, laid bare some rounded mass covered with long, hanging sea-weed, which parted on the top and hung down on either side, giving the stone the appearance of some strange, long-haired sea monster, which had just thrust its head above the surface to gaze at the boat, and once this was so near that Mike shrank from it as it peered over the thwart, the boat almost grating against the side.

"Wasn't that too close?" said Vince quickly.

"Nay," said the old man quietly: "if you didn't go close to that rock, you'd go on the sharp rock to starboard. There's only just room to pass."

A minute later, as the two lads, were gazing in at the gloomy portals of a water-floored cave, in and out of which birds were flying, a dexterous turn of the oar sent the boat quickly round, head to wind, the sail flapped over their heads, and Vince seized the boat-hook without being told, and, reaching over the side, hooked towards him a couple of good-sized pieces of blackened cork, through which a rope had been passed and knotted to prevent its return.

This rope Mike seized, hauled upon it, drawing the boat along, till it was right over something heavy, which, on being dragged to the surface, proved to be a great beehive-shaped, cage-like basket, weighted with stones, and provided with a funnel-like entrance at the top.

"Nothing!" cried Mike; and the lobster-pot was allowed to sink back into the deep water among the rocks as soon as it had been examined to see if it contained bait.

Then there was another short run, and a fresh examination of one of these trap-like creels, with better success; for a good-sized lobster was found to be inside, and, after two or three attempts, Vince seized it across the back, and drew it out as it flicked its tail sharply, and vainly sought to take hold of its aggressor with its formidable, pincer-armed claws.

Old Daygo hooked the lobster towards him with the toe of his boot, clapped it between his knees, and cleverly tied its claws with pieces of spun yarn before dropping the captive into a locker in the stern, half full of water, which was admitted through holes in the side.

A couple more lobster-pots were tried, without success, as the boat glided along by the side of the great granite cliffs, where the many black cormorants, which made the shelves and points their home, gave ample reason for the solitary island, far out among the rushing waters of the fierce currents, to be named Cormorant Crag by all who sailed that way, and avoided as the most dangerous rock-bound place off the coast.

Then came a change, the boat being steered to a channel which ran between a mighty mass of piled-up granite and the cliffs. This gap was about forty yards wide, and the pent-up waters rushed through, eddying and rippling, and taking the boat along at a rapid rate. But Daygo steered close enough in to enable him to throw the little grapnel in the bottom of the boat on to the rocks nearest the cliffs. The iron caught at once, the line was checked and fastened, and the boat, swung now in the swift race close to a little keg, from which ran a row of corks, anchored in a calmer place across the tide.

"Down with the lug!" growled the old man. His crew lowered the sail quickly, and stowed it out of their way, for the chief feature of the little trip was close at hand. Old Daygo went forward now, shaking his head at the boys' progress of hauling in the trawl-net line themselves.

"Ay," he said; "you can take out the fish if there be any." And he methodically dragged the net, which had been stretched like so many walls of meshes overnight right across the swift waters of the tide, having been down long enough for the ebb and flow both to pass through it, with the consequence that, if fish had passed that way, they would have been pocketed or become netted among the meshes from either side. But a good deal of the net was dragged into the boat before the glittering scales of a fish were seen.

"Red mullet!" cried Vince, as he pounced upon two small ones, looking as if clothed in mother-o'-pearl, speckled and stained with scarlet.

These were taken out and thrown into the locker, with the result that the lobster flipped its tail and splashed about furiously. But by this time there was a golden gleam in the net drawn aboard; taking his turn, Mike dragged out a grotesque-looking, big-headed John Dory, all golden-green upon its sides, and bearing the two dark marks, as if a giant finger and thumb had been imprinted upon it. This, too, with its great eyes staring, and wide mouth gaping feebly, was thrown into the locker.

Then old Daygo began to growl and mutter: for the meshes showed the heads only of a fine pair of red mullet, the whole of the bodies having been eaten away; and a minute later up came the cause, in the shape of a long, grey, eely-looking fish, which writhed and struggled violently to get free, but only entangled itself the more tightly.

"Nay, nay! let me come," cried the old man, as he saw the boys whip out their knives. "I don't want my net cut to pieces; I'll do it myself."

He threw the portion of the net containing the captive on one side in the bottom of the boat, and hauled in the rest, which contained nothing but a sickly green, mottled-looking wrasse of about a couple of pounds weight. Then the lines, cords, and anchors were got on board, and, leaving the boat to drift with the sharp current which carried it onward, the old man drew a long, sharp-pointed knife from its sheath, and cautiously turned over portions of the net.

"Oh, murder!" said Mike.

"Well, how many poor fish has it murdered?" said Vince. "Mind it don't pike you, Joe!" he shouted.

"I'm a-goin' to, my lad; and you mind, too, when you ketches one. They'll drive their pike at times right through a thick leather boot; and the place don't heal kindly afterward. Ha! now I've got you," he muttered, as, getting one foot well down over the keen spine with which the fish was armed, and which it was striking to right and left, he held down the head, and, carefully avoiding the threads of the net, stabbed it first right through, and then dexterously divided the backbone just at its junction with the skull, before, with the fish writhing feebly, he gradually shook it clear of the net, and stood looking viciously down at his captive.

"Won't eat no more mullet right up to the head, will he, lads?"

"No; he has had his last meal," replied Vince, turning the fish over and displaying its ugly mouth. "Now, if it was six feet long instead of four, you'd call it a shark."

"Nay, I shouldn't; and he would be a dog-fish still. Well, he's eat a many in his time. Now his time's come, and something'll eat him. Hyste the sail."

The dog-fish--a very large one of its kind--was thrown overboard, the sail hoisted, and the boat began to glide onward toward the semicircular bay into which they were drifting, with the huge, massive promontory straight ahead. Then the oar was pressed down, and the boat began to curve round.

"Hi! stop! Don't go back yet!" cried Vince.

"Eh? Why not? No more lobster-pots down."

"I want to sail across the bay, and get round by the Scraw."

"What!" cried the old man, looking at him fiercely. "You want to go there? Well!"

He turned his eyes upon Mike, who encountered the fierce gaze, and said, coolly enough:

"Well, all right; I want to go too. I've only seen the place at a distance."

"Ay, and that's all you will ever see on it, 'less you get wings like one o' they shags," said the old man, pointing solemnly at a great black bird sunning itself upon an outlying rock. "They've seen it, p'r'aps; and you may go and lie off, if you're keerful, and see it with a spy-glass."

"And climb along to the edge of the cliff, and look over?" said Vince.

"What!" cried Daygo, with a look of horror. "Nay, don't you never try to do that, lad; you'd be sure to fall, and down you'd go into the sea, where it's all by ling and whizzing and whirling round. You'd be sucked down at once among the rocks, and never come up again. Ah! it's a horful place in there for 'bout quarter of a mile. I've knowed boats-- big uns, too--sailed by people as knowed no better, gone too near, and then it's all over with 'em. They gets sucked in, and away they go. You never hear of 'em again--not so much as a plank ever comes out!"

"What becomes of them, then?" said Vince, looking at the rugged old fellow curiously.

"Chawed up," was the laconic reply, as the old fellow shaded his brow, and gazed long and anxiously beyond the headland they were leaving on their left.

"But I want to see what it's like," said Mike.

"Ay, and so has lots o' lads, and men, too, afore you, youngster," said the old man solemnly; "and want's had to be their master. It arn't to be done."

"Well, look here," continued Mike, for Vince sat very thoughtfully looking from one to the other as if he had something on his mind: "steer as close in as it's safe, and let's have a look, then."

"Do what?" roared the old man fiercely.

"Steer as close in as it's safe," repeated Mike. "We want to go, don't we, Vince?"

The lad nodded.

"Don't I tell you it's not safe nowhere? It's my belief, boys, as there's some'at 'orrid about that there place. I don't say as there is, mind you; but I can't help thinking as there's things below as lays hold o' the keel of a boat and runs it into the curren' as soon as you goes anywhere near--and then it's all over with you, for you never get back. Your boat's rooshed round and round as soon as you get clost in, and she's washed up again the rocks all in shivers, and down they goes, just as if you tied a little 'baccy-box at the end of a string, and turned it round and round, and kep' hitting it again the stones."

"Oh! I don't believe about your things under water doing that," said Mike--"only currents and cross currents: do you, Cinder?"

Vince did not answer, but sat gazing beyond the great headland, looking very thoughtful.

"Ah, my lad! it's all very well for you to talk," said the old man solemnly; "but you don't know what there is in the wast deep, nor I don't neither. I've heerd orful noises come up from out of the Scraw when the wind's been blowing ashore, and the roarings and moanings and groanings as come up over the cliffs have been t'reble."

"Yes, but it isn't blowing now," said Mike: "take us in a bit, just round the point."

"Nay," said the old man, shaking his head; "I won't say I won't, a-cause I could never face your fathers and mothers again, for I should never have the chance. I'm getting an old 'un now, and it wouldn't matter so much about me, though I have made up my mind to live to 'bout a hunderd. I'm a-thinking about you two lads, as is only sixteen or so."

"Vince is only fifteen," said Mike quickly, as if snatching at the chance of proving his seniority.

"On'y fifteen!" cried the old man. "Think o' that now--on'y fifteen and you sixteen, which means as you've both got 'bout seventy or eighty years more to live if you behave yourselves."

"Oh, gently!" cried Mike; but Vince did not speak.

"And do you think I'm a-going to cut your young lives short all that much? Nay. My name's Joe Daygo, and I'm English, and I won't do that. If I'd been what you two young fellows said--a Spannle--it might be different, but it arn't. There--let's get back; and one on you can have the lobster, and t'other the Dory and mullet."

"Then you won't take us round by the Scraw?"

"Right, my lad; I won't."

"Then I tell you what: Vince Burnet and I'll get a boat, and have a look for ourselves. You're not afraid of things catching hold of the keel, are you, Cinder?"

"No," said the lad quietly, "I don't think I am."

"Well, I've warned you both; so don't you blame me if you don't come back," growled the old man.

"Why, how can we if we don't come back?" cried Mike merrily.

The old man shook his head, and sat gazing straight before him from under his shaggy brows, steering carefully, as the boat now had to make zigzag tacks among the rocks which dotted the surface away from the cliffs. Then, in answer to a question from his companion, Vince shook off his fit of thoughtfulness, and sat chatting about the various objects they saw, principally about the caves they passed, some of which were low, arched places, excavated by the sea, whose entrances now stood out clear, now were covered by a wave which came back foaming from the compressed air it had shut-in. Then the conversation turned upon the birds, familiar enough to them, but always fresh and new. All along the face of these vast cliffs, and upon the outlying rocks, was a grand place for the study of sea-fowl. They were quite unmolested, save at nesting-time, and then interfered with but little. This was one of their strongholds, and, as the boat glided along back, the two lads set themselves to see how many kinds they passed. There were the two kinds of cormorant, both long, blackish-green birds, the one distinctive from the other by the clear white, egg-shaped marks on its sides close to the tail; rows of little sea-parrots, as they are familiarly called--the puffins, with their triangular bills; the terns, with their swallow-like flight; and gulls innumerable--black-headed, black-backed, the common grey, and the beautiful, delicately-plumaged kittiwakes, sailing round and round in the most effortless way, as if all they needed to do were to balance themselves upon widespread wing, and then go onward wherever they willed.

There was plenty to see and hear round Cormorant Crag as the boat sailed on over the crystal water, till the archway was reached in the pyramid of granite, when down went the sail, and the boat was thrust onward by means of the hitcher, the tide having risen so high that in places the boys had to bend down. Then once more they were in the long, canal-like zigzag, and soon after in the dock, where they loyally helped the old man carry up and spread the trammel net to dry, and turned to go.

"Here! stop a minute, youngsters," cried Daygo.

"What for?"

"Arn't got your bit o' fish."

"Oh, I don't want to take it, Joe," said Vince. "You've had bad luck to-day."

"Never you mind about that, my lad. I get lots o' fish, and I'm dead on some hammaneggs to-night. I said you two was to have that fish and lobster; so which is it to be? Who says lobster?"

Nobody said lobster, and the boys laughed.

"Well, if you two won't speak out like men, I must do it myself. Am I to divide the take, or are you?"

"You give us what you like, Joe," said Vince, who made up his mind to ask his mother for a pot of jam as a return present, knowing as he did that the old man had a sweet tooth.

"Right, then; I will," cried Daygo, rolling up his jersey sleeve, and thrusting a massive arm into the locker, out of which he drew the fish, the boat's stem having been lifted so that the water had run out. "There, look here: Doctor Burnet said as lobsters were undo-gestible things, so you'd better take that there one home with you, Ladle. You take the fish, Squire Burnet; your mar likes 'em fresh, as I well know."

Mike took the lobster; and the old fellow took a little willow creel from where it was wedged in a granite crevice, laid some sea-weed at the bottom, and then packed in the fish.

"Thankye, Daygo," said Mike. "Shall I pay you for it?"

"If you wants to be bad friends, lad," said the old man gruffly.

"Much obliged, Joe," said Vince. "My mother will be so pleased!"

"Ah! and you're a lucky one to have such a mother," growled the great fellow. "Wish I had."

This brought a roar of laughter from the lads, and Daygo looked fiercely from one to the other; then the bearing of his remark began to dawn upon him, and his countenance relaxed into a grim smile.

"Ah! I didn't see," he grumbled out. "Yes, I do look a nice sorter youngster to have a mother to wash my face, don't I? But here, I say," he continued sternly, "you two didn't mean it about getting a boat and trying to see the Scraw, did you?"

"Yes, to be sure," said Mike sharply.

"Then look here!" cried the old man, bringing his great doubled fist down into his left palm, with the result that there was a loud crack as of a mallet falling upon a board; "I've give you both fair warning, and you'd better take it. You don't know what may come to you if you try it. I tell you, once for all, that you can't get to see it from the sea, and you can't get to see it from the shore. Nobody never has, and nobody never can, and come back 'llve, as that there Johnny Dor'."

"I don't believe any one's had the pluck to try," said Mike stoutly.

"Ah! you're a unbelievin' young rip," growled Daygo fiercely. "But lookye here: you don't want to upset my lady your mother, Ladle, and you don't--"

"Look here, Joe Daygo, if you call me Ladle again I'll kick you!" cried Mike hotly.

"Nay, don't, lad--not yet, till you've practysed a bit on the rocks, 'cause you might hurten your toes. Look here, young Physic: you don't want to go and break your poor mother's heart, do you?"

"Of course not," said Vince.

"Then don't you go, my lad--don't you go. There--better be off, both on you. Weather's hot, and fish won't keep. Tell 'em to put some salt in the pot with that lobster, Ladle; and you'd better have your fish cooked to-night, Doctor."

Vince turned round and nodded; but the ladle was sticking in Mike's throat, and he stalked on without making a sign.

Daygo stood watching till the lads had climbed up out of his sight, and then he went and sat down on a block of granite, and began to rasp his nose on both sides with his rough, fishy finger, as if engaged in sharpening the edge of a feature which was sharp enough as it was; and as he rasped, he looked straight before him at the great rugged cliff. But he was not thinking of it in the least; his thoughts were half a mile away, at the most precipitous part of the coast--a spot avoided by shore-goer and seaman alike, from the ill name it bore, and the dangers said to attend those who ventured to go near, either climbing or in a boat.

"Nay," he said at last; "they won't go now." _

Read next: Chapter 4. Cinder Has Discovery On The Brain

Read previous: Chapter 2. "Two For A Pair"

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