“We mustn’t lose time,” he said, as he stood on the rough shingle; “the tide is running in very fast.”
It was quite true, and before long it would certainly completely fill the bay.
Chapter Thirty.
A Night on the Rocks.
It was very satisfying in a case of emergency to have with us some one so old and staid and full of authority as my father, who set the example to us lads of hurrying close up to the cliff right at the head where the caverns ran in, and the rain-like water streamed down from the ferns and saxifrages to form a veil that now looked golden in the glow from the west.
“Hah!” said my father decisively, “no standing here; and it would not be safe to go into the cave, the water rises six or seven feet here right up the cliff.”
It was so all round, as we plainly saw by the sea-weed that clung in the crevices, and the limpets and barnacles on the smooth places right above the heads of us boys, while every here and there at our feet we could see the common red sea creatures, which look like red jelly when the tide is down, and like daisyfied flowers when it is up.
“No stopping down here, boys,” cried my father. “Now, then, where’s the best place to climb the cliff? You two try one way, Chowne and I will go the other.”