CHAPTER VII
THE MYSTERIOUS FOOTPRINTS
At the expiration of the stipulated time, preparations were made for the circuit of the Island. The "Otters" were ordered to take their staves, while to the "Wolves" was allotted the task of carrying several lengths of two-inch rope, iron crowbars, a pair of double "blocks" and a pair of single ones. Mr Trematon did not give the reason why these articles need be taken, and speculation as to their use ran high.
"Two lads must remain as camp orderlies," he remarked. "Who will volunteer? Remember a volunteer is worth two pressed."
There were several moments' hesitation. All were exceptionally keen on the trip, and the suggestion that two of them should remain did not appeal to them in a favourable light.
"I will, sir," said Atherton.
"No," rejoined the Scoutmaster. "The Leaders are exempt, since they are responsible to me for their patrols."
"I'll remain, sir," exclaimed Tom Mayne.
"That's good. Now, then, a volunteer from the 'Wolves.' That will be fair, won't it?"
Coventry major signified his willingness to stay, for although in different patrols the two lads were close chums.
"That's settled," continued Mr Trematon. "Now, orderlies, you must not go beyond the limits of the camp, except down to the landing-place. You are to receive any visitors that may come to the Island, and show them round, giving them any information as courteously as you can."
In high spirits the two patrols set out, their first halt being at the ruined oratory. Here Mr Trematon explained the use and nature of these buildings in mediaeval days, how that recluses devoted their lives to prayer and watching. No doubt many vessels in pre-Reformation days owed their safety to the friendly light that burned every night from hundreds of oratories scattered round the coast.
The ruins being situated on the highest part of the Island, the Scouts had an extensive view of the Cornish shore and of the expansive Bristol Channel. The day was clear, and the water was dotted with ships of all sizes, all looking like miniature boats in the distance. There were colliers, distinguishable by having their funnels well aft; tramps, rusty-sided, and with stumpy masts serving mainly to support the derricks for handling cargo; topsail schooners, in which most of the coast-wise trade between the smaller ports is now carried on; Bristol Channel pilot boats engaged in keen competition to pick up a job; and a host of small fishing boats from the neighbouring ports of St Ives and Padstow.
"How far can we see out to sea, sir?" asked Tenderfoot Scott.
"That depends mainly upon the clearness of the atmosphere. From the height on which we are now standing—250 feet—we might be able to see nearly twenty-one miles."
"It's very clear to-day, sir," observed Fraser.
"Yes, too clear for my liking," asserted the scoutmaster. "Tregantle Head—over twenty-five miles away—stands up quite plainly. That's a sure sign of wet weather and probably a storm in addition."
"A storm! Will there be any wrecks?" asked little Reggie Scott, eagerly. "Will we be able to see them if there are?"
"I trust not," replied the Scoutmaster, solemnly. "I have seen several wrecks, and it is not an experience to be desired. Now, lads, forward. Bear away to the right. I want you to see that part of the Island nearest to Beware Head."
Through a dense belt of gorse and bracken, out of which the startled rabbits scooted with amazing rapidity, the Scouts trooped till Mr Trematon called to them to halt. They were then within ten feet of the edge of the cliffs that here descend abruptly for a distance of one hundred and eighty feet.
"Don't ever go closer to the brink of the cliffs than this, unless you have a line round you," cautioned Mr Trematon. "The ground might crumble under you, although there is far less probability of doing so here—where the rocks are composed of granite—than on the south-eastern coast of England, where the cliffs are of chalk and soft sandstone."
From where they stood the Scouts could see almost the whole extent of water between the Island and Beware Head, a sheet of deep blue sea interspersed with patches of pale green denoting sandy bottom between the weed-covered rocks. Long oily rollers came tumbling inshore with unfailing regularity, breaking with a smother of foam against the base of the headland.
"What makes those rollers, sir?" asked Baker. "There's very little wind, and farther out the sea is quite calm."
"It's called a ground-swell, and is said to be caused by a storm many miles out to sea. Their presence is also an indication of the approach of bad weather. I don't want to dishearten you, lads, but we must 'Be prepared' for all emergencies, and if we are I don't think our holiday will be any less enjoyable."
"There's a signal from the lighthouse, sir," announced Atherton.
"Now, then, signallers: what do you make of that?" asked the Scoutmaster, as a burst of flags fluttered from a staff rising from the gallery of the lighthouse.
"We can't make out, sir," replied Phillips and Neale. "They are not spelling anything."
"No, it is in code. The combination of those three flags means a message which we could only interpret if we had a signal-code book. One of those vessels 'made her number '—that is, has reported herself on first sighting a British signal-station—and the information will be telegraphed to Lloyd's. See, there's a keeper on the gallery. Watch him through your pocket telescope, Phillips, and when he looks this way tell Neale to call him up."
"What shall I semaphore, sir?" asked the Second of the "Wolves."
"Ask him for permission to visit the lighthouse," replied Mr Trematon. "Then, if he says yes, ask what day and what time will be convenient."
"He's looking this way, sir," reported Phillips.
Standing well apart from his comrades, Neale "called up" the lighthouse. In a few moments Phillips announced that the man was looking towards them through a glass.
"He's acknowledged, sir," continued the Second of the "Otters." "Another man has taken the glass from him."
"Carry on," ordered the Scoutmaster, and Neale began semaphoring with considerable rapidity and accuracy.
Back came the reply: "The keepers of Beware Head lighthouse will be pleased to show the Scouts over the building any day between 9 A.M. and one hour before sunset."
"Acknowledge and thank them, Neale. Say we hope to inspect the lighthouse tomorrow at 2 P.M."
"Has this point any name, sir," asked Phillips, indicating the northernmost limit of Seal Island.
"No, I think not," replied the Scoutmaster. "Suppose for our own convenience we give it a name. What shall it be?"
"Why not North Cape?" suggested Green.
"I am afraid it doesn't jut out sufficiently into the sea. It is bold and lofty; suppose we say North Head?"
"And the other extremities, East, South and West Heads, sir?" asked Sayers, the lad who shared with Reggie Scott the distinction of being the Tenderfoot of the "Otters."
"Very good," assented Mr Trematon. "The names are simple enough, which is a consideration, since there is little chance of getting confused over the various designations. Now, forward once more."
The route now lay in a south-westerly direction along an ill-defined track that followed the edge of the cliffs, which hereabouts attained a height of about eighty feet.
"We are now over what is known as the Tea Caves," announced the Scoutmaster. "These caves are well worth exploring, but at present I intend to show them to the 'Otters' only. The 'Wolves' must remain here and attend to the ropes, for we can only reach the caves by being lowered over the cliffs. The descent is, with proper precautions, perfectly safe, but a certain amount of nerve is required. Should any lad not feel equal to the task he is at liberty to fall out."
"So long as I don't fall in, I don't mind," remarked Tenderfoot Sayers, in an undertone to his chum Scott.
"If Mr Trematon says it is perfectly safe, 'nuff said," replied Reggie Scott. "I'm game." Lashing a pair of staves together to form sheerlegs, the Scouts planted the ends into the ground so that the crossed portion overhung the cliffs. To the projecting end one of the blocks or pulleys was secured, while "guys" prevented the sheerlegs from toppling over. A rope with a bowline at one end was rove through the pulley for the purpose of lowering the explorers. The Scouts employed on this work were all provided with life-lines to guard against serious accidents should the cliffs crumble.
"That seems perfectly secure," said Mr Trematon, after he had put the gear to a severe test. "Now we are ready for the descent. At twenty-five feet from the summit of the cliff is a fairly broad path. Each Scout in turn will be lowered on to this ledge, and there he will stand easy till I rejoin you. Atherton, since you are the Leader, it is your place to go first."
Passing the bowline under his arms. Atherton walked to the edge of the cliff, sat down, and waited till the "Wolves" took the strain on the rope. Then, unhesitatingly, he slipped over the cliff, and was slowly lowered through the intervening twenty-five feet. It seemed a long distance, especially as the lad had to ward himself off the face of the granite cliff with his hands. He knew, as did his companions, that it was foolish to look down, even if secured by a bowline, and although the temptation to glance downwards to see how much farther he had to go was great he had sufficient strength of mind to carry out instructions.
Presently his feet touched fairly level ground; the bowline slackened. He found himself upon a rocky "bench" or path nearly eight feet in breadth, which sloped with irregular gradations towards the base of the cliffs.
Casting off the rope, Atherton called to his comrades to haul away, and he found himself cut off on the face of a wall of granite, that, save for a ledge on which he stood, looked as smooth as a board.
One by one the "Otters" were lowered. Finally the Scoutmaster descended, and the little party, eight all told, proceeded along the path leading to the caves.
"Funny name, sir," said Phillips. "Why do they call them Tea Caves—because the place is shaped like the letter T?"
"No, merely another reminder of smuggling days."
"Did they used to smuggle tea?" asked Everest.
"Yes; in the eighteenth century there used to be a very heavy tax on tea in this country; hence smuggling tea was almost as paying a game as smuggling spirits and lace if the run came off successfully. Here is the main entrance; do you notice anything peculiar about the roof?"
"Yes, sir," replied several of the lads. "There looks as if there's a deep notch cut across it."
"That is where the smugglers used to hang a painted canvas curtain from to deceive the revenue people. Viewed from seaward it was almost impossible to detect the mouth of the cave."
"But how was the tea carried there? There is no place for a boat to land at the foot of the cliffs."
"That was another smugglers' ruse. The contraband goods were brought ashore at the same place as where we first landed on Seal Island. Wines and spirits were usually taken to Dollar Cove, and hidden in the cave we explored this morning. The chests of tea were carried across the Island, lowered over the cliff, taken along the path we have just traversed, and stored in these caves.
[Illustration: "He slipped over the cliff and was slowly lowered." Page 73.]
By choosing a hiding-place not directly accessible from the sea, the law-breakers put the excise authorities off the scent."
"Isn't it dry here," remarked Phillips. "The dust on the floor is as dry as powder."
"Yes, and you will find that in a few moments our footprints will be wiped out by the wind smoothing over the sand and dust. Did anybody think to bring a candle?"
"I have two, sir," replied Baker.
"Good, lad!" exclaimed Mr Trematon, approvingly. "Quite a display of foresight, eh?"
"No, sir," admitted the Scout, candidly. "They fell out of a parcel as we were carrying the baggage up to the camp last night. I picked them up and put them in my pocket, forgetting all about them till you spoke."
"All the same they will be useful. Give one to Everest, and the two will be sufficient light for us to see our way."
"Are we going to use twine as a guide, sir?" asked Atherton. "I have a ball of it."
"Not necessarily in this case, Atherton," replied the Scoutmaster. "I know the ins and outs of this place very well, and after all they are not so very extensive."
At twenty yards from its mouth the cave apparently terminated, but Mr Trematon called attention to a small hole barely eighteen inches across, and almost on the floor level.
"Slip through, Atherton, feet first and let yourself drop."
Unhesitatingly the Leader obeyed. It was an uncanny sensation allowing oneself to drop into an invisible pit, but five feet from the edge of the hole Atherton's feet encountered soft sand.
"I'm all right," he said, his voice sounding hollow and unreal in the pitch dark cave.
"Follow on, you fellows," ordered the Scoutmaster. "Pass the light to Atherton, Baker."
Soon the "Otters" found themselves in a much larger cavern, the walls of which were most fantastic shapes, while the dust on the floor, no longer disturbed by air currents, showed that the place had been visited at no distant date. There were the footprints of a man, both going and returning.
"What do you make of these, Atherton?" asked the Scoutmaster, pointing to the tracks on the sand.
Candle in hand, the Leader knelt down and examined the footmarks.
"They are the footprints of a man wearing a ten boot," he announced. "They are not those of a working man, I think, because there are no hobnails. The person, whoever he is, seems to be a timid individual, as he evidently walks on his toes; the impression of the heels are much fainter."
"A good deduction, Atherton; it looks as if we are on the verge of a mysterious discovery."
"What if the man is still in the cave, sir?" asked Green, cautiously. "He might be listening to what we are saying."
"No fear of that," replied Mr Trematon. "There has been only one man here recently, and his tracks show that he came and went again. Follow the footprints, Atherton, and see if you can make any more deductions."
Keeping by the side of the trail in order that the marks should not be obliterated the Leader proceeded slowly and cautiously, the rest of his companions following.
Ten yards from the "needle's-eye," that served as a means of access to the inner cave, Atherton discovered one used and two unused wax vestas.
"What do they suggest, Atherton?" asked Mr Trematon.
"I think, sir, that they confirm my previous theory. A poor man is not in the habit of carrying wax vestas. He is usually content with Swedish safeties. Besides, this person is evidently careless and wasteful, since he drops two unlighted vestas."
"So well, so good, Atherton," replied the Scoutmaster. "Now let's proceed."
Once or twice the tracks became confusing, since the footmarks crossed each other; but with little difficulty Atherton followed the in-going track till they stopped at a deep niche in the rocky walls on the right-hand side of the cave.
In the candle-light Atherton thoroughly examined the sand and dust. A piece of charred newspaper attracted his attention. He picked it up, unfolded it, and studied the printing.
"Quite recent," he commented. "Here is an account of the King's visit to the new Naval and Military Orphanage at Bexhill. That took place on Saturday, so that if this is not a portion of a Sunday paper, it appeared yesterday. That proves, I think, that the person, whoever he is, visited the cave as recently as yesterday."
"No doubt it was a tourist, keen on visiting the Tea Caves," suggested Everest. "His supply of matches ran short, so he made a torch of a piece of newspaper. After all there's nothing in that, except that it has given us a chance to practise spooring."
"I am not so sure of that, Everest," said Mr Trematon, quietly. "In the first place the Tea Caves are difficult of access, and a stranger would enlist the services of one of the local fishermen as a guide. This man comes alone. Secondly, he visits the cave with an avowed object: he walks straight to this place, stands almost in the same spot for some time, and then kneels. The impressions of his toes and one knee prove that. Then he returned to the open air as directly as he came."
"Perhaps he's buried something, sir," suggested Sayers.
"For the time being we will let our investigations rest," said Mr Trematon. "We have no spades with us, and should the mysterious visitor return he would notice that the soil had been disturbed, and become alarmed and suspicious. So we must endeavour to detect the man should he come again. If he were here for no good purpose it is more than likely that he will not revisit the Tea Caves till after our camp is struck."
"You mean us to dig, sir?" asked Reggie Scott.
"Yes. Unless anything unforeseen occurs we will bring spades and thoroughly examine this portion of the ground on the day before we return home. But we must be off or the 'Wolves' will wonder what has happened to us. Cover your footprints, lads."
The Scouts' footprints were carefully obliterated as they retraced their steps, an empty haversack drawn over the trail completing the finishing touches. Only a minute inspection would reveal the fact that a party of lads had traversed the inner cave.
"What have you been up to, Atherton?" asked his chum Simpson, as the Leader of the "Otters" was hauled up to the top of the cliff.
"Wait and see," retorted Atherton, laughing. "That's all right, Simpson. Mr Trematon will tell you everything round the camp fire to-night."