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Three Boys; or, the Chiefs of the Clan Mackhai, a fiction by George Manville Fenn |
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Chapter 6. A Morning Bath |
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_ CHAPTER SIX. A MORNING BATH "Yes! Come in. Thank you. Eh? I'll open the door. And--Don't knock so hard." Confused and puzzled, Max started out of his deep sleep, with his head aching, and the bewilderment increasing as he tried to make out where he was, the memory of the past two days' events having left him. "Don't hurry yourself. It's all right. Like to have another nap?" came in bantering tones. "I'll get up and dress as quickly as I can," cried Max, as he now realised his position. "But--but you said something about showing me the bath." "To be sure I did. Look sharp. I'll wait." "Oh, thank you; I'll just slip on my dressing-gown." "Nonsense! You don't want a bathing-gown," cried Kenneth. "Here! let me in." "Yes, directly," replied Max; and the next minute he went to the door, where Kenneth was performing some kind of festive dance to the accompaniment of a liberal drumming with his doubled fists upon the panels. "Ha! ha!" laughed the lad boisterously. "You do look rum like that. Slip on your outside, and come along." "But--the bath-room? I--" "Bath-room! What bath-room?" "You said you would show me." "Get out! I never said anything about a bath-room. I said a bath--a swim--a dip in the sea. Beats all the bath-rooms that were ever born." "Oh!" ejaculated Max, who seemed struck almost dumb. "Well, look sharp. Scood's waiting. He called me an hour ago, and I dropped asleep again." "Scood--waiting?" "Yes; he's a splendid swimmer. We'll soon teach you." "But--" "You're not afraid, are you?" "Oh no--not at all. But I--" "Here, jump into your togs, old man, and haul your shrouds taut. It's glorious! You're sure to like it after the first jump in. It's just what you want." Max felt as if it was just what he did not want; but strong wills rule weak, and he had a horror of being thought afraid, so that the result was, he slipped on his clothes hastily, and followed his companion down-stairs, and out on to the rock terrace, where a soft western breeze came off the sea, which glittered in the morning sunshine. He looked round for the threatening-looking black rocks which had seemed so weird and strange the night before, and his eyes sought the uncouth monsters with the tangled hair which seemed to rise out of the foaming waters. But, in place of these, there was the glorious sunshine, brightening the grey granite, and making the yellowish-brown seaweed shine like gold as it swayed here and there in the crystal-pure water. "Why, you look ten pounds better than you did yesterday!" cried Kenneth; and then, raising his voice, "Scood, ho! Scood, hoy!" he shouted. "Ahoy--ay!" came from somewhere below. "It's all right! He has gone down," cried Kenneth. "Come along." "Where are you going?" said Max hesitatingly. "Going? Down to our bathing-place; and, look here, as you are not used to it, don't try to go out, for the tide runs pretty strong along here. Scood and I can manage, because we know the bearings, and where the eddies are, so as to get back. Here we are." He had led his companion to the very edge of the rock, where it descended perpendicularly to the sea, and apparently there was no farther progress to be made in that direction. In fact, so dangerous did it seem, that, as Kenneth quickly lowered himself over the precipice, Max, by an involuntary movement, started forward and made a clutch at his arm. "Here! what are you doing?" cried Kenneth. "It's all right. Now then, I'm here. Lower yourself over. Lay hold of that bit of stone. I'll guide your feet. There's plenty of room here." Max drew a long, catching breath, and his first thought was to run back to the house. "Make haste!" cried Kenneth from somewhere below; and Max went down on his hands and knees to creep to the edge and look over, and see that the rock projected over a broad shelf, upon which the young Scot was standing looking up. "Oh, I say, you are a rum chap!" cried Kenneth, laughing. "Legs first, same as I did; not your head." "But is it safe--for me?" "Safe? Why, of course, unless you can pull the rock down on top of you. Come along." "I will do it! I will do it!" muttered Max through his set teeth, as he drew back, ghastly pale, and with a wild look in his eyes. Then, turning, and lowering his legs over the edge, he clung spasmodically to a projection which offered its help. "That's the way. I've got you. Let go." For a few moments Max dared not let go. He felt that if he did he should fall headlong seventy or eighty feet into the rock-strewn sea; but, as he hesitated, Kenneth gave him a jerk, his hold gave way, and the next moment, in an agony of horror, he fell full twenty inches--on his feet, and found himself upon the broad shelf, with the crag projecting above his head and the glittering sea below. "You'll come down here like a grasshopper next time," cried Kenneth. "Now then, after me. There's nothing to mind so long as you don't slip. I'll show you." He began to descend from shelf to shelf, where the rock had been blasted away so as to form a flight of the roughest of rough steps of monstrous size, while, trembling in every limb, Max followed. "My grandfather had this done so that he could reach the cavern. Before that it was all like a wall here, and nobody could get up and down. Why, you can climb as well as I can, only you pretend that you can't." Max said nothing, but kept on cautiously descending till he stood upon a broad patch of barnacle-crusted rock, beside what looked like a great rough Gothic archway, forming the entrance to a cave whose floor was the sea, but alongside which there was a rugged continuation of the great stone upon which the lads stood. "There, isn't this something like a bath?" cried Kenneth. "It's splendid, only you can't bathe when there's any sea." "Why?" asked Max, so as to gain time. "Why? Because every wave that comes in swells over where we're standing, and rushes right into the cave. You wait and you'll hear it boom like thunder." _Plosh_! "What's that?" cried Max, catching at his companion's arm. "My seal! You watch and you'll see him come out." "Yes, I can see him," cried Max, "swimming under water. A white one-- and--and--Why, it's that boy!" "Ahoy!" cried a voice, as Scoodrach, who had undressed and dived in off the shelf to swim out with a receding wave, rose to the surface and shook the water from his curly red hair. "Well, he can swim like a seal," cried Kenneth, running along the rough shelf. "Come along." Max followed him cautiously, and with an uneasy sense of insecurity, while by the time he was at the end his guide was undressed, with his clothes lying in a heap just beyond the wash of the falling tide. "Look sharp! jump in!" cried Kenneth. "Keep inside here till you can swim better." As the words left his lips, he plunged into the crystal water, and Max could follow his course as he swam beneath the surface, his white body showing plainly against the dark rock, till he rose splashing and swam out as if going right away. But he altered his mind directly, and swam back toward the mouth of the cave. "Why, you haven't begun yet," he cried. "Aren't you coming in?" "Ye-es, directly," replied Max, but without making an effort to remove a garment, till he caught sight of a derisive look upon Kenneth's face--a look which made the hot blood flush up to his cheeks, and acted as such a spur to his lagging energies, that in a very few minutes he was ready, and, after satisfying himself that the water was not too deep, he lowered himself slowly down, gasping as the cold, bracing wave reached his chest, and as it were electrified him. "You shouldn't get in like that," cried Kenneth, roaring with laughter. "Head first and--" Max did not hear the rest. In his inexperience he did not realise the facts that transparent water is often deeper than it looks, and that seaweed under water is more slippery than ice. One moment he was listening to Kenneth's mocking words; the next, his feet, which were resting upon a piece of rock below, had glided off in different directions, and he was beneath the surface, struggling wildly till he rose, and then only to descend again as if in search of the bottom of the great natural bath-house. "Why, what a fellow you are!" was the next thing he heard, as Kenneth held him up. "There, you can touch bottom here. That's right; stand up. Steady yourself by holding this bit of rock." Half blind, choking with the harsh, strangling water which had gone where nature only intended the passage of air, and with a hot, scalding sensation in his nostrils, and the feeling as of a crick at the back of his neck, Max clung tenaciously to the piece of rock, and stood with the water up to his chin, sputtering loudly, and ending with a tremendous sneeze. "Bravo! that's better," cried Kenneth. "No, no, don't get out. You've got over the worst of it now. You ought to try and swim." "No. I must get out now. Help me," panted Max. "Was I nearly drowned?" "Hear that, Scood?" cried Kenneth. "He says, was he nearly drowned?" "I--I'm not used to it," panted Max. "Needn't tell us that--need he, Scood? No, no, don't get out." "I--I must now. I've had enough of it." "No, you haven't," cried Kenneth, who was paddling near. "Hold on by the rock and kick out your legs. Try to swim." "Yes, next time. I'm--" "If you don't try I'll duck you," cried Kenneth. "No, no, pray don't! I--" "If you try to get out, I'll pull you back by your legs. Here, Scood, come and help." "Don't, pray don't touch me, and I'll stay," pleaded Max. "Pray don't touch you!" cried Kenneth. "Here, Scood, he has come down here to learn to swim, and he's holding on like a girl at a Rothesay bathing-machine. Let's duck him." Max uttered an imploring cry, but it was of no use. Kenneth swam up, and with a touch seemed to pluck him from his hold, and drew him out into the middle of the place, while directly after, Scood, who seemed more than ever like a seal, dived into the cave, and came up on Max's other side. "Join hands, Scood," cried Kenneth. Scood passed his hand under Max, and Kenneth caught it, clasping it beneath the struggling lad's chest. "Now then, let's swim out with him." "Ant let him swim back. She'll soon learn," cried Scood. "No, pray don't! You'll drown me!" gasped Max, as he clung excitedly to the hands beneath him; and then, to his horror, he felt himself borne right out of the cave, into the sunshine, the two lads bearing him up easily enough between them, till they were fully fifty yards away from the mouth. Partly from dread, partly from a return of nerve, Max had, during the latter part of his novel ride through the bracing water, remained perfectly silent and quiescent, but the next words that were spoken sent a shock through him greater than the first chill of the water. "Now then!" cried Scood. "Let go! She'll get back all alone, and learn to swim." "No, no, not this time," said Kenneth. "We'll take him back now. He'll soon learn, now he finds how easy it is. Turn round, Scood." Scoodrach obeyed, and the swim was renewed, the two lads easily making their way back to the mouth of the cave, up which they had about twenty feet to go to reach the spot where the clothes were laid. "Now," cried Kenneth, "you've got to learn to swim, so have your first try." "No, no; not this morning." "Yes. At once. Strike out, and try to get in." "But I can't. I shall sink." "No, you shan't; I won't let you. Try." There was no help for it. Max was compelled to try, for the support was suddenly withdrawn, and for the next few minutes the poor fellow was struggling and panting blindly, till he felt his hand seized, and that it was guided to the side, up which he was helped to scramble. "There!" cried Kenneth. "There's a big towel. Have a good rub, and you'll be all in a glow." Max took the towel involuntarily, and breathlessly tried to remove the great drops which clung to him, feeling, to his surprise, anything but cold, and, by the time he was half dressed, that it was not such a terrible ordeal he had passed through after all. "She'll swim next time," said Scood, as he rubbed away at his fiery head. "No, she won't, Scoodie," said Kenneth mockingly; "but you soon will if you try." "Do you think so?" asked Max, who began now to feel ashamed of his shrinking and nervousness. "Of course I do. Why, you weren't half so bad as some fellows are. Remember Tom Macandrew, Scood?" "Ou ay. She always felt as if she'd like to trown that boy." "Look sharp!" cried Kenneth, nearly dressed. "Don't be too particular. You'll soon get your hair dry." "But it wants combing." "Comb it when you get indoors. Come away. Let's have a run now, and then there'll be time to polish up before breakfast. You, Scood, we shall go fishing this morning, so be ready. Now then, Max,--I shall call you Max,--you don't mind climbing up here again, do you?" "Is there no other way?" "Yes." "Let's go, then." "There are two other ways," said Kenneth: "to jump in and swim round to the sands." "Ah!" "And for Scood and me to go up and fetch a rope and let it down. Then you'll sit in a loop, and we shall haul you up, while you spin round like a roast fowl on a hook, and the bottle-jack up above going click." "I think I can climb up," said Max, who was very sensitive to ridicule; and he climbed, but with all the time a creepy sensation attacking him-- a feeling of being sure to fall over the side and plunge headlong into the sea, while, at the last point, where the great stone projected a little over the climbers' heads, the sensation seemed to culminate. But Max set his teeth in determination not to show his abject fear, and the next moment he was on the top, feeling as if he had gone through more perils during the past eight-and-forty hours than he had ever encountered in his life. "Look out!" cried Kenneth suddenly. "Why? What?" "It's only the dogs; and if Bruce leaps at you, he may knock you off the cliff." Almost as he spoke, the great staghound made a dash at Max, who avoided the risk by leaping sideways, and getting as far as he could from the unprotected brink. _ |