“Don’t see any way down,” said Fred, rather despondently. “This place sticks right out over everything.”
“But we can get down by fixing the rope up here, and sliding down.”
“I’d forgotten the rope,” said Fred, with a deep sigh. “But suppose we do get down. What then?”
“Why, we can find our way to the mouth of the cave, and look out and shout at the first boat that comes by.”
Fred brightened up.
“I say, Scar,” he said cheerfully, “what a clever fellow you are! Let’s try at once.”
“Hadn’t we better try first whether we can climb up the hole?”
The suggestion was so good that it was at once tried, but without effect; for a very few minutes’ search proved that there was a perpendicular face of rock to scale, and, unless they cut steps with their knives, ascent in that way was impossible.
“It’s of no use, Scar,” said Fred, “unless we can get away by the mouth. I say, is it as dark as it was when we first came down?”
“Our eyes are getting used to it,” said Scarlett, as they both stood gazing across the opening at the black-looking rock-face before them, and, gaining courage from familiarity, they once more approached the edge of the shelf, and felt their way about, seeking vainly for the means of descent.