As I took them out I felt ready to drop them, but I did not, for I flung them and my net and basket as far up the shore as I could, and held out my hands to Bigley, who was looking out at me from the grotto-like place.
“Why don’t you come out?” I cried. “Can’t you see the tide’s coming in?”
“Yes—yes,” he said in a curious hollow voice, “I can see, but I can’t move. I’m stuck fast. Help!”
I felt a chill of horror, and in those moments saw the tide rising higher and higher till it had filled the little cavern and drowned my poor school-fellow, we his companions being unable to drag him out.
Those thoughts only occupied moments, but they made an impression that I have never forgotten, and I don’t think I ever shall have the memories weakened.
I saw it all plainly enough. Poor fellow! He had been startled by the incoming tide and tried to creep out, but not in about the only part that would permit of his passing, but in the first that offered, and he had become fixed, and, as in a few words he explained, the harder he tried to free himself the tighter prisoner he became.
“Here, Bob! Bob!” I shouted in such a tone of anguish that he came running from the back of the rocks to where I was standing knee-deep in water.
“Get out!” he shouted as soon as he saw me. “You can come. Look here, if you play me a trick like—”
“No, no, don’t go,” I shouted. “Bob: he’s fast!”
Bob dashed down to me now as quickly as the rough place would let him. He had thrown down his load at my first appeal for help, and as he came splashing through the water he looked horribly pale.