They were not long in examining every cranny and crevice inward, fully expecting to find some low arch leading into another or a series of caverns; but they found nothing more, and did not spend much time in examining the place, for the great attraction was the mouth, through which, as if it were a frame, they gazed out at the glittering cove and the barrier of rock, dotted with sea-birds, which hid the open sea beyond.
Making their way, then, to the mouth, and hastily taking off shoe and stocking, they tucked up and began to wade, so as to get outside; but the huge buttresses which supported the rugged arch completely shut them in, running out as they did to where the sea swirled along with tremendous force, and looked so deep and formidable, that the two lads grasped in a moment what the consequences of a slip would be,—no swimmer could have stemmed such a rush.
“It’s jolly—it’s grand—it’s splendid!” cried Vince at last, after they had been paddling about for some time in the shallow water, and stepping on to the low ridges of rock which barred the entrance; “but it’s precious disappointing.”
“Yes,” said Mike; “for we can’t see much now, shut-in like this.”
It was quite true; for when they had stepped from rock to rock as far as they dared go, they were still in the mouth of the cave, which projected far out over them like a porch, and completely hid the cove on either side and the precipice extending upward to the ridge.
“I want to get round there to the left,” said Vince, after gazing thoughtfully along the foot of one large buttress. “It looks shallow there, for the water’s pale green. I can’t see from here, but I don’t believe it’s up to one’s knees.”
“We’ll try,” said Mike, springing on to the rock, flush with the water, upon which Vince stood, with none too much room.
“Mind what you’re doing!”
“Oh my! how sharp the rock is!” shouted Mike, who stood on one leg to pet and comfort an injured toe.
“I shall go along there,” said Vince, “and then keep close to the wall.”