"I don't think anything could have happened to him here, or we should see some signs of him."
"Course we would—we'd see his remains—we'd see his basket, or his hat, floatin and driftin about. But thar's not a basket or a hat anywhar to be seen."
"The cliff is long here, and runs in so from that point, that if he went up any distance, it would be easy for him to be caught by the rising tide."
"Course it would. O, yes, course. That's the very thing that struck me. It's very dangerous for an ole inexperienced man. But come, we mustn't stand talkin, we must hurry on, or we may as well go back agin, at onst."
Starting forward, they walked on for some time in silence. For about a hundred yards they were able to keep close to the edge of the cliff, so as to look over; but after that they encountered a dense alder thicket. In order to traverse this, they had to go farther inland, where there was some sort of an opening. There they came to a wood where the underbrush was thick, and the walking difficult. This they traversed, and at length worked their way once more to the edge of the cliff. Looking down here, they found the scene very much like what it had been farther back. The waves were dashing beneath them among rocks whose black crests were at times visible among the foam, while from the cliffs there were the same projecting shelves which they had noticed before.
"See there!" cried Bart, pointing to a place behind them. "Do you see how the cliff seems to go in there—just where the alder bushes grow? That looks like a place where a man might be caught. I wonder if he isn't there."
"Can't we go and see?"
"I don't think you can git thar."
"O, it isn't far," said Bart. "I'll run back and look down. The rest of you had better go on; I'll join you soon."
"I'll go with you," said Bruce.