It was easier said than done, for although there were five or six natural terraces, the cliff looked formidable enough in the deflected rays of the lamp.
"Better wait till the moon rises, old bird," counselled Villiers. "It won't be long now."
"That won't help us much," objected Bobby. "We're on the west side of the island, remember. How did you climb down, Dick?" he inquired, raising his voice.
"I didn't climb—I was pushed," answered Dick resentfully.
Villiers swept the edge of the cliff with the powerful light. Away to the right the land terminated in a low promontory certainly not more than twenty feet in height and a good three hundred yards distant. To the left the cliff rose still higher, terminating in a projecting crag a full two hundred feet above the sea.
"We'll be with you in half an hour," he shouted.
"Right-o; no immediate hurry," replied Dick cheerfully, for knowing that help was at hand his spirits rose accordingly.
"What a ghastly spot," declared Beverley, as the men cautiously made their way round in the direction of the shelving promontory. "Looks as if there had been a volcanic eruption here not so very long ago."
"Centuries ago, perhaps," replied Villiers. "Lack of vegetation doesn't help us much to fix a date. I'd like to explore this show in broad daylight."
"We may have to," added Bobby. "How we are going to get that kid back to the ship in the dark puzzles me. We'd possibly find ourselves bushed."