The men, having deposited their loads, tired as they were, dispersed in all directions. Sandy, Ewen, and I went to the northward under the cliffs. Every moment I expected to see the mangled remains of the poor lad, or traces of his blood, should a bear have carried him off. Of one thing we felt sure, that he would have kept as close as he could to the beach, where he might hope to meet with drift-wood. Before long, however, our progress was stopped by cliffs which jutted out into the sea, though we saw that there was a continuation of the beach farther on. We had, therefore, to climb up and try to find a way down again to the level of the water. It was no easy task to climb the cliff, but we accomplished it at last. We went on for some distance, but so precipitous were the cliffs that it seemed impossible that we should be able to descend with any safety. Every now and then we peered over them, and as I was doing so I thought I saw an object lying close to the base some way on. I felt almost sure that it was a human being, while not far from it was what looked like the wreck of a boat. That it was poor Croil we could have little doubt, and that he had been killed by a fall from above appeared too probable.
Sandy, who was of this opinion, told Ewen and me to wait while he hurried back to obtain a coil of rope which he had brought from the boat, as also the assistance of some of the other men should they have returned. Ewen and I accordingly went on, and, carefully looking over the cliff, to our sorrow discovered that it was indeed our poor shipmate. That he had fallen from such a height without being killed seemed impossible.
“Take care that we do not share his fate,” I observed to Ewen, as I got up to ascertain if there was any less precipitous part near at hand, by which we could descend without waiting for the rope.
As far as I could discover there were no marks on the edge of the cliffs to show from whence he had fallen. Going on a little further I found a narrow ledge, which apparently sloped downwards. Very likely he had attempted to make his way by this ledge to the shore. From its extreme narrowness I felt that it would be folly to trust myself to it, and that I should probably fall as he had done.
While looking about I heard Ewen exclaim—
“He is moving, I saw him lift his hand!” He then shouted out: “Hullo! Croil, we are coming to help you.”
It was a great relief to know that the lad was alive, though it made us still more anxious for the return of Sandy. At last he appeared. Now came the question, Who should descend? It was a hazardous task. Sandy insisted on going down, but I felt that I would much rather descend than have to hold the rope.
“No, no,” said Sandy, “I’ll trust you. I’ll stick this stake into the ground, and if you hold on to the upper end the rope will be firm enough.”
While we were securing the rope as Sandy proposed, a man with another length of rope came running towards us. It was fortunate he brought it, for the first was not sufficiently long to reach the bottom. Our preparations were speedily made, and Sandy, with the activity of a sailor, sliding over the edge of the cliff, glided down by the rope until he reached the spot where Croil lay. I fancied that I heard him shout out for help, so I told Ewen to hold on to the stake, and, taking hold of the rope, slid down as Sandy had done. I saw him, as I reached the bottom, supporting Croil in his arms.
“I did not want you to come, Hugh, but as you are here, you can help me in getting up the laddie. There is still life in him, but he has had a shaking which might have broken every bone in his body, though I cannot discover that any are broken. We must hoist him up gently, for he cannot bear any rough handling, that’s certain.”