It was indeed a black night, as the Earthstopper had remarked. A great bank of cloud hung like a curtain before the western heaven, and shut out the light of half the stars. On our left Godrevy shot out its warning beams at regular intervals, and far away up channel Trevose light shone bravely in the gloom. The keen, salt wind blew straight in our faces as we breasted the high ground near the sea. By-and-by the sullen roar which reached our ears made us cautious, for we had neared the edge of the cliff; and, when we had roped ourselves together, our guide took the lead and we began the steep descent.
The otter excepted, there is no more wary animal than the seal; so we climbed down past the stones, ghost-like in their white shrouds, as noiselessly as possible, and at length arrived at the foot of the cliff. There was no beach, only huge wet boulders, between which the tide gurgled. We had scrambled—it was rough going—some distance over these rocks before I felt a pull on the rope, and then, peering through the darkness, I saw that our guide was standing at the entrance to a tunnel that proved to be the way into the seals’ cave, the mouth of which is unapproachable except by boat. Here we met with an unexpected impediment. The mast of a ship had got wedged into the passage, leaving only a narrow space between its splintered surface and the rocky walls.
“Hand over your lantern, Andrew,” said my friend, as he struck a match on his trousers.
“It’s all right,” said he, holding the light against the mouth of the tunnel; “I think we can get through. Now, undo the rope, and follow me as quiet as mice. You’ve got the hammer, Andrew?”
“Yes.”
This in whispers; and then we squeezed through the cramped space. The passage was some five feet in height and four in breadth. The floor was very irregular, and covered with water lying in pools of varying depths. At the further side of a deep pool our guide paused, and held a light over the water. This enabled me to avoid the holes between the loose rocks at the bottom, and I managed to get through by wading thigh-deep. The old Earthstopper in his fur cap and velveteen coat followed, trying the depth with the long, white haft of the hammer he carried. I noticed that he left the water as noiselessly as an otter would have done. The increasing noise of the waves warned us as we progressed along the tunnel, that we were getting near the seals’ retreat. In the great cave in which we soon stood, the roaring at its mouth and the reverberations within produced a noise that was deafening. Three torches were lit; and we advanced over some loose rocks and shingle to a shelving bed of white sand, on which the seals are generally found. Down this, when surprised, they shuffle to face their enemies and meet death. It was disappointing to find none at home.
Hell’s Bay. [Face page 178.