Cormorant Crag is a Webnovel created by George Manville Fenn.
This lightnovel is currently completed.

“Are you all right?” said Mike anxiously, for he was by far the more nervous of the two.

“Right?–yes; but I feel like a cow tethered to a picket, so that I can’t reach the bit of gra.s.s sward. Now then, lower away.”

Mike obeyed, with the palms of his hands growing very moist, as his companion drew closer to the brink.

“Lower away!” cried Vince.

“No: that’s close enough,” said Mike decidedly. “Look from where you are, and come back. Now then, what can you see?”

“A bit of moss and a patch of sea-pink just under my nose. Don’t be so stupid! How am I to look over the edge if you hold me tight up like this? Ah!”

“What is it?” cried Mike, holding on to the rope with all his might, and keeping it resting on the rock, over which it had slowly glided.

“Only a loose stone gave way under my feet, and went down.”

He remained silent, waiting to hear the fragment rebound and strike somewhere, but he listened in vain. The fall of the stone, however, had its effect, for a wild chorus of whistling and screaming arose, and an eddy of wings came up as a perfect cloud of white and grey birds rose into sight, and were spread to right and left.

“Hadn’t you better come back now?” said Mike anxiously.

“If I do it will be to make you come down instead. Why, you’re worse than I am, Mike! Now then, lower away! I only want about a fathom more, and then you may hold on tight.”

“Very well, then,” said the lad: “I’ll give you just six feet, and not a bit more. Then you shall come up.”

“Say seven,” cried Vince merrily.

“No: six. That’s what you said; so make much of it.”

“Lower away, then!” cried Vince; and he carefully descended, after a glance over his left shoulder, creeping cautiously down, and edging to his left till he was just over the block at the edge which he had marked out for his goal.

“That’s four feet, mind!” cried Mike: “only two more.”

“Good little boy!” said Vince merrily. “Four and two do make six. I’ll tell Mr Deane to-morrow. He was grumbling the other day about the muddle you made over your algebra.”

“You look after your climbing, and never mind my algebra,” said Mike huskily.

“Now, Mikey!” cried Vince; “hold on–tight as you can.”

“Yes. Don’t you want the other two feet?”

“Of course I do; but I’m going to turn over.”

“No, no, I say–don’t!” cried Mike. “Do think where you are! Have a good look, and then come up.”

“Here, I say, you’d better come down instead of me. I can’t see out of the back of my head if you can. Now, no nonsense. This is what I want to do: I’m going to turn over, with my back to the cliff, and then shuffle down that other two feet, with my legs on each side of that piece of stone.”

“But it’s at the very edge,” said Mike. “Good boy again! How well you can see, Ladle! It is just at the edge; and, once I’m there, I can see down either way.”

“But it isn’t safe, Cinder. I can’t help being anxious. Suppose the stone’s loose, and gives way?”

“Why, then it will fall down and frighten more birds. Now then, don’t fidget. If the stone goes, you’d still hold on by the rope, and I should be left sitting there all the same. I shouldn’t do it if I didn’t feel that I could. I’m not a bit nervous, so hold on.”

“Very well,” said Mike breathlessly: “I’ve got you.”

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

Vincent Burnet did not hesitate, but, with a quick movement, turned himself right over, dragging heavily upon the rope, though, and making his companion draw in his breath through his closed teeth with a hissing sound.

“There I am,” said Vince coolly. “I could slip down into the place if I liked, but I won’t try; so just ease the rope, inch by inch, as I shuffle myself lower. That’s the way. Easy as kiss my hand. A little more, and a little more, and there we are. Why, Mike, old chap, it’s just like sitting in a saddle–only it’s so hard.”

“Are your legs right over the side?”

“Yes, and the wind’s blowing up the legs of my trousers like anything.

Oh! you can’t think what a sharp draught there is.”

“Never mind the draught.”

“No use to,” said Vince.

“Oh, I say, do have a good look down, and then come up again. Now, then: does the cliff slope from where you are?”

“Yes, right down to the water.”

“Steeply?”

“Yes.”

“Could we climb down?”

“Yes, if we were flies: Mike, old chap, it’s just awful!”

“What!” cried Mike breathlessly.

“Yes: that’s it–awful,” said Vince quietly, as he rested his hands on the block he bestrode, and looked over to his left. “It slopes down; but the wrong way. It goes right in as far as I can see, and–Yes, it does just the same on the other side. If I were to go down now I should plump right into black water, that’s boiling up and racing along like it does where there’s a rocky bottom, I do wish you were here to see.”

“I don’t,” whispered Mike. “There–that’ll do,” he continued aloud.

“Come up.”

“Wait a bit. I must see a little more, now I am here. I say, it’s awful!–it’s grand! The rocks, as far as I can see, are as smooth as can be, and all sorts of colours, just as if they were often breaking away. Some are dark and some are browny and lavender, and there’s one great patch, all glittering grey granite, looking as new as new.”

“Yes, it must be very beautiful; but come back.”

“Don’t you be in such a hurry,” said Vince. “You won’t catch me sitting here again. I’ll let you down if you like, but once is quite enough for me. I want to have a good look, though, so as to tell you all about it before I do come, for, on second thoughts, I shan’t lower you down here–it’s too horrid. I say: wherever I can see there are thousands of birds, but there are not many places where they can sit. I can see one raven, too–there are two of them sailing about just under me, with their backs shining in the sun. Oh, Mike: look at the cormorants! I never knew there were so many about the island. Big gulls, and puffins, and terns, and–I say, what a cloud of pigeons flying right out from under me: Why, there must be a cavern going right in. Hold tight! I want to lean out more to try and see.”

“No!” shrieked out Mike. “Don’t–don’t! It’s a hundred times worse kneeling here and seeing you than doing it oneself.”

“But I only want to see if there is a cave.”

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