The ascent was made in single file, and half-way up the party paused to get their breath.
"Hallo!" cried Jack, "there's a magpie."
On a narrow ledge of rock and earth at the summit of the cliff two tall fir-trees were growing, and out of the top of one of these the bird had flown. The children stood and watched it, with its long tail and sharp contrast of black and white feathers, as it sailed away across the river.
"One for sorrow," said Helen.
"I shouldn't like to climb that tree," said Valentine. "It makes my head swim to look at it, leaning out like that over the precipice."
"Pooh!" answered Raymond; "that's nothing. I've climbed up trees in much worse places before now."
Helen frowned, and turned away with an impatient twitch of her lips.
Jack saw the look. "All right, Master Fosberton," he said to himself; "you wait a minute."
They continued their climb, and reaching the level ground above strolled along until they came opposite the tall tree out of which the magpie had flown.
"There's the nest!" cried Jack, pointing at something half hidden in the dark foliage of the fir. "Now, then, who'll go up and get it?"