'As we have not the wings of eagles, friend Pierre,' said the
younger man, glancing around, 'we must climb where we can find
foothold. God will protect us; if not,' with a sneer, 'the Devil
always looks after his own.'
He crept along the narrow ledge and scrambled with great difficulty
into a niche above, holding on by the weeds and sparse grass which
grew out of the crannies of the barren crag. Followed by his
companion, he went steadily up, clinging to projecting rocks--long
trails of tough grass and anything else he could hold on to. Every
now and then some seabird would dash out into their faces with wild
cries, and nearly cause them to lose their foothold in the sudden
start. Then the herbage began to get more luxurious, and the cliff
to slope in an easy incline, which made the latter part of their
ascent much easier. At last, after half an hour's hard work, they
managed to get to the top, and threw themselves breathlessly on the
short dry grass which fringed the rough cliff. Lying there half
fainting with fatigue and hunger, they could hear, as in a confused
dream, the drowsy thunder of the waves below, and the discordant
cries of the sea-gulls circling round their nests, to which they had
not yet returned. The rest did them good, and in a short time they
were able to rise to their feet and survey the situation. In front
was the sea, and at the back the grassy undulating country, dotted
here and there with clumps of trees now becoming faint and
indistinct in the rapidly falling shadows of the night.
Pages:
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25