At that moment the party addressed felt as if he would like to cling to the nearest stone for an anchorage, to save himself from being blown off the cliff by some passing gust, and he stood still, staring at his companions on the brink.
“Well, why don’t you come? You can just see where the nest lies—at least you can make out the bits of stick.”
“I don’t think I’ll come, thank you,” said Max.
“Nonsense! Do be a little more plucky.”
“Yes,” said Max, making an effort over himself; and he took a couple of steps forward, and then stopped.
“Well,” cried Kenneth, “come along! There’s no danger.”
As he stood there, with his gun resting on the rock beside him, Max could not help envying his cool daring, and wishing he could be as brave.
But he could not, and, going down on hands and knees, he crept cautiously toward the brink, and then stopped and uttered a cry, for something made a leap at him.
It was only Sneeshing, who had been forgotten, and who had been enjoying himself with a quiet hunt all to himself among the heather. As he trotted up, he became aware of the fact that his young master’s visitor was turning himself into a four-footed creature, and he leaped at him in a friendly burst of greeting.
“I—I thought somebody pushed me,” gasped Max. “Call the dog away.”