He carried an armful of rocks to lay on the mound. When he began to gather more, she followed his example. They worked in silence, piling the rough stones gently one upon another, until the cairn had grown to twice its former size. The air on the open cliff top was fresher than in the cleft, and Miss Leslie gave little heed to the absence of shade. She would have worked on under the burning sun without thought of consequences. But Blake knew the need of moderation.
“There; that’ll do,” he said. “He may have been–all he was; but we’ve no more than done our duty. Now, we’ll stroll out on the point.”
“I should prefer to return.”
“No doubt. But it’s time you learned how to go nesting. What if you should be left alone here? Besides, it looks to me like the signal is tearing loose.”
She accompanied him out along the cliff crest until they stood in the midst of the bird colony, half deafened by their harsh clamor. She had never ventured into their concourse when alone. Even now she cried out, and would have retreated before the sharp bills and beating wings had not Blake walked ahead and kicked the squawking birds out of the path. Having made certain that the big white flag was still secure on its staff, he led the way along the seaward brink of the cliff, pointing out the different kinds of seafowl, and shouting information about such of their habits and qualities as were of concern to hungry castaways.
He concluded the lesson by descending a dizzy flight of ledges to rob the nest of a frigate bird. It was a foolhardy feat at best, and doubly so in view of the thousands of eggs lying all around in the hollows of the cliff top. But from these Blake had recently culled out all the fresh settings of the frigate birds, and none of the other eggs equalled them in delicacy of flavor.
“How’s that?” he demanded, as he drew himself up over the edge of the cliff, and handed the big chalky-white egg into her keeping.
“I would rather go without than see you take such risks,” she replied coldly.
“You would, eh!” he cried, quite misunderstanding her, and angered by what seemed to him a gratuitous rebuff. “Well, I’d rather you’d say nothing than speak in that tone. If you don’t want the egg heave it over.”
Unable to conceive any cause for his sudden anger, she was alarmed, and drew back, watching him with sidelong glances.