The Eagle Cliff

“Oo ay, if you think so, sir. Ring, poy!”

The boy, who was getting alarmed, seized the tongue of the ship’s bell, and rang with all his might. Whether this had the effect to which Jackman had referred, we cannot tell, but next moment what appeared to be a mountain loomed out of the mist. The steam-whistle had been silent for some time, but as soon as the bell was heard it burst forth with increased fury. From the instant her form was dimly seen the fate of the yacht was sealed. There was a wild shouting on board the steamer, but there was no time for action.

“Starboard hard!” was the cry.

“Starboard it is!” was the immediate answer. But before the helm could act, the great rushing mass struck the Fairy amidships, and literally cut her in two!

The awful suddenness of a catastrophe, which those on board had just been arguing was all but impossible, seemed to have paralysed every one, for no one made the slightest effort to escape. Perhaps the appearance of the wall-like bow of the steamer, without rope or projection of any kind to lay hold of, or jump at, might have conveyed the swift perception that their case was hopeless. At all events, they all went under with the doomed yacht, and nothing was left in the wake of the leviathan but a track of foam on the mist-encumbered sea.

But they were not lost! One after another the wrecked party rose struggling to the surface, and all of them could swim except the boy.

Giles Jackman was the first who rose. Treading water and brushing the hair out of his eyes, he gazed wildly about. Barret came up close beside him, almost a moment later. He had barely taken breath, when the others rose at various distances. A cry not far from him caused him to turn. It was poor Robin Tips, struggling for life. A few powerful strokes carried Barret alongside. He got behind the boy, caught him under the armpits, and thus held him, at arm’s length, until he could quiet him.

“There is a spar, thank God! Make for it, Barret, while I see to Quin,” shouted Jackman.

As he spoke, they could hear the whistle of the steamer rushing away from them.

Barret, forcing himself breast-high out of the water, glanced quickly round and caught sight of the floating spar to which his companion had referred. Although only a few yards off, the fog rendered it almost invisible.

“Are you quiet now?” demanded Barret, in a stern voice, for the terrified boy still showed something like a hysterical determination to turn violently round, and grasp his rescuer in what would probably have turned out to be the grip of death.

“Yes, sir, oh! yes. But d–don’t let me go! M–mind, I can’t swim!”

“You are perfectly safe if you simply do nothing but what I tell you,” returned Barret, in a quiet, ordinary tone of voice, that reassured the poor lad more than the words.

By way of reply he suddenly became motionless, and as limp as a dead eel.

Getting gradually on his back, and drawing Tips slowly on to his chest, so that he rested with his mouth upwards, and his head entirely out of the water, Barret struck out for the spar, swimming thus on his back.

On reaching it, he found to his surprise that it was the experimental raft, and that the captain, Mabberly, and McGregor were already clinging to it.

“Won’t bear us all, I fear,” said Mabberly; “but thank God that we have it. Put the boy on.”

In order to do this, Barret had to get upon the raft, and he found that it bore him easily as well as the boy.

“Have you seen Jackman?” asked Mabberly.

“Yes,” replied Barret, rising and looking round.

“Here he comes, towing Quin, I think, who seems to be stunned. Hallo! This way—hi! Giles!”

But Giles suddenly ceased to swim, turned over on his back, and lay as if dead.

“Rescue, Bob, rescue!” shouted Barret, plunging into the water. Mabberly followed, and soon had hold of Giles and his man by the hair.

“All right!” said Jackman, turning round; “I was only taking a rest. No one lost, I hope?”

“No; all safe, so far.”

“You can tow him in now. I’m almost used up,” said Jackman, making for the raft. “He’s only stunned, I think.”

It was found that the Irishman had in truth been only stunned when they lifted him on to the raft, for he soon began to show signs of returning life, and a large bump on his head sufficiently explained the nature of his injury.

But when the whole party had cautiously clambered up on the raft it sank so deep that they scarcely dared to move. To make matters worse, they clearly distinguished the steamer’s whistle going farther and farther away, as if she were searching for them in a wrong direction. This was indeed the case, and although they all shouted singly and together, the whistle grew fainter by degrees, and finally died away.

With feelings approaching to despair, the crew of the frail raft began to talk of the prospect before them, when they were silenced by a slight movement in the mist. The white curtain was lifted for a few yards, and revealed to their almost incredulous eyes a rocky shore, backed by a range of precipitous cliffs, with a wild mountainous region beyond.

As the sea was still perfectly calm, there was no surf. Our castaways, therefore, with the exception of Quin and the boy, quietly slipped into the water, and, with thankful hearts, propelled the raft vigorously towards the shore.

Chapter Three

The Wreck is Followed by Repose, Refreshment, Surprise, and Disaster

The distance from land was not more than a few hundred yards; nevertheless, it occupied a considerable time to pass over that space, the raft being ill-adapted for quick progression through the water.

Close to the shore there was a flat rock, to which, as they approached it, their attention was drawn by the appearance of what seemed to be living creatures of some sort. Quin and Robin Tips, sitting on the raft, naturally saw them first.

“I do belave it’s men, for they’re liftin’ their hids an’ lookin’ at us. Av it was the South Says, now, I’d say they was saviges peepin’ at us over the rocks.”

“P’raps they’re boys a-bathin’,” suggested Tips.

“Are they white?” asked Captain McPherson, who, being chin-deep in the water and behind the raft, could not see the rock referred to.

“No; sure they seem to be grey, or blue.”

“Oo, they’ll be seals,” returned the skipper, nasally—a tone which is eminently well adapted for sarcastic remark without the necessity of elaborate language.

“In coorse they is,” said Tips; “don’t you see they’re a-heavin’ up their tails as well as their ’eads?”

On advancing a few yards farther, all doubt upon the question was put at rest. The animals, of which about a dozen were enjoying themselves on the rock, raised themselves high on their flippers and gazed, with enormous eyes, at the strange-looking monster that was coming in from the sea! Thus they remained, apparently paralysed with astonishment, until the raft was within pistol-shot, and then, unable to endure the suspense longer, they all slipped off into the sea.

A few minutes later and the raft struck on the shore. And well was it for the party that the weather chanced to be so fine, for if there had been anything like a breeze, their frail contrivance would inevitably have been dashed to pieces. Even a slight swell from the westward would have raised such a surf on that rugged shore that it would have been impossible for the best of swimmers to have landed without broken limbs, if not loss of life. As it was, they got ashore not only without difficulty, but even succeeded in hauling the raft up on the beach without much damage to its parts—though, of course, the unfortunate fowls in the hen-coops had all perished!

While Mabberly and the others were engaged in securing the raft, Barret was sent off along shore with directions to ascertain whether there was any habitation near. To his right the high cliffs came down so close to the sea that it seemed very improbable that any cottage or hamlet could be found in that direction. He therefore turned towards the left, where the cliffs receded some distance from the shore, leaving a narrow strip of meadow land.

Hurrying forward about a quarter of a mile, he stopped and looked about him. The sun was still high in the heavens—for the days are long and nights brief in that region during summer—and its rays had so far scattered the mists that all the low-lying land was clear, though the mountain-range inland was only visible a short distance above its base. The effect of this was to enhance the weird grandeur of the view, for when the eye had traced the steep glens, overhanging cliffs, rugged water-courses, and sombre corries upward to the point where all was lost in cloud, the imagination was set free to continue the scenery to illimitable heights.

The youth was still gazing upward, with solemnised feelings, when there was presented to him one of those curious aspects of nature which are sometimes, though rarely, witnessed in mountainous regions. Suddenly an opening occurred in the clouds—or mist—which shrouded the mountain-tops, and the summit of a stupendous cliff bathed in rich sunshine, was seen as if floating in the air. Although obviously part of the mountain near the base of which he stood, this cliff—completely isolated as it was—seemed a magical effect, and destitute of any real connection with earth.

While he was looking in wonder and admiration at the sight, he observed a bird hovering about motionless in the blue vault high above the cliffs. Although inexperienced in such scenery and sights, Barret knew well enough that nothing but an eagle—and that of the largest size—could be visible at all at such a distance. Suddenly the bird sailed downwards with a grand circular sweep, and was lost among the shadows of the perpendicular rocks. A few minutes more and the mists drifted over the opening, causing the vision to disappear.

This was Barret’s first view of the Eagle Cliff, which was destined to exercise a powerful and lasting influence upon his fortunes!

A few yards beyond this the explorer came upon a sheep track, and a little farther on he found one of those primitive roads which are formed in wild out-of-the-way places by the passage of light country carts, with the aid of a few rounded stones where holes required to be filled up, or soft places strengthened. Following it a short distance to a spot where it ran between a precipice and the shore, he came suddenly in sight of a wilderness of fallen rocks, which were varied in size from mere pebbles to masses the size of an omnibus. These had all fallen from a steep spur of the mountains which projected towards the sea of that place. The whole of the level land at the base of the spur was strewn with them; some being old, moss-covered and weather-worn, others fresh and sharp in outline, as if they had fallen only the previous winter, as probably they had, for the places from which they had been dislodged could be seen still fresh and light-coloured, nearly a thousand feet up on the riven cliffs. It was a species of desolation that powerfully recalled some scenes in Dante’s “Inferno,” and had a depressing effect on the youth’s spirits, for nothing seemed more unlikely than the existence of a human habitation in such a place.

A new view of the matter broke upon him, however, when he suddenly became aware that a spot in the confused scene which he had taken to be a clump of withered bracken was in reality a red cow! Looking a little more narrowly at objects he soon perceived a hut among the rocks. It was so small and rude and rugged as almost to escape detection. A furious barking soon told that he had been seen, and two collie dogs rushed towards him with demonstrations that threatened him with immolation on the spot. The uproar put life into a few more clumps of red bracken, and produced a lively display of sheep and cattle throughout the region.

Barret walked straight up to the door of the hut, and the collies withdrew from the attack—as most noisy demonstrators do when treated with silent indifference.