Fortunately, the shelf of rock along which we had to pass was sufficiently wide for us to walk along by clinging to the cliff. This was done with great care, and when the rope was reached I bound it several times round her waist and secured it firmly under her arms. Being assured that she was then quite safe in her position, I took hold of the higher part of the climbing line and with its assistance scaled the crag.
When I reached the top I gave Thora the signal, and by hauling the rope up with all my strength I helped her to ascend. It was a long time ere I felt sure that she was safe, but at last I heard her call out that she was all right, and I stretched my hand down to her. She took hold of it, and I assisted her until she stepped once more upon the soft turf, and then, still holding her hand, I led her home, deeply thankful that our adventure had ended without fatality.
[Chapter XXVII]. A Family Misfortune.
I must now tell you what happened on that afternoon while I was away from my sheep, neglecting my work, and seeking useless adventure in the North Gaulton cave. But I must go back to record a conversation that took place at Lyndardy on that same morning, so that you may understand the gravity of the misfortune which was the result of my neglect.
We were sitting over our early breakfast, my mother, Jessie, and I, discussing the family resources for the coming winter--a subject that had given us much anxiety since the death of my father and uncle. Our concern was intensified by the fact that our harvest had not turned out so fruitful as had been anticipated; for the oats were light in the grain and the potatoes diseased; and the expenses incurred for repairs and improvements on the farm, had well-nigh exhausted the ready money that had been left by my father or procured by the sale of the small boat and various articles of furniture from the old home. To make matters worse--and this it was that suggested the discussion--Jessie had been down in Stromness on the previous evening, and there ascertained that the price paid for straw-plaiting, which was never very high, was to be greatly reduced.
"I'm sure we're ill enough off already without them cutting us down at such a rate," said my mother, as she took a sip of tea from her saucer. "If it had not been for what the dominie brought from Edinburgh for Hal's silver, we'd have been most hard pressed this while back. But what we're to do when the winter comes round, I dinna ken. It's certain we'll not have meal enough to serve us; and there's the rent to pay, and clothes to get, and nothing coming in at all."
"Well, mother," said Jessie, "dinna take on so ill about it. We're not more hard pressed than our neighbours. Look at Janet Ross with all her bairns, and her rent owing for three terms; and auld Betty Matthew, at the Croft, who hasna a penny forbye what she gets at the kelp burning. We have our two bonnie cows, and a score of good sheep, and all our hens."
"We have all that," replied my mother. "But I'm thinking the sheep must be sold at Martinmas, or we'll not have much of a living for winter."
"Then, if you sell the sheep, Halcro will need to go to the fishing," said Jessie.
"He'll need to get work somewhere. The lad canna aye be idle; and there's nothing but the fishing for him, I doubt, if he doesna gang to the piloting with Carver Kinlay."