There were birds there by the thousand! They lined every ledge, they called from every point. They launched themselves from the steep cliffs into the air, and soared and glided on the currents of air. crying and calling at the tops of their wild voices.
The sight of the red-sailed ship startled them. A hundred or so flew up from the cliffs, and their flight startled hundreds more, so that the rushing of wings sounded like a mighty wind. Tom gave a cry.
“What’s that falling down the clifflook, it’s like a rain of white drops rumbling down!”
“Eggs!” said Andy. “These sea-birds lay their eggs on the bare ledges of rock, you knowand they are jolly careless with them. When they fly off suddenly they often make their precious eggs roll offthen down they fall and smash on the rocks below.”
“What a waste,” said Jill. “I wish we hadn’t frightened them. But what a sight, Andy! I’ve never, never, to all my life seen or heard so many birds together before!” “Andy, lookthere’s a river rushing out at the bottom of the cliff,” said Tom, excited. “Is it a river? It seems to be coming out of a cave! Right out of the depths of the cliff.”
“Yes, it’s a river.” said Andy, bringing the boat in gently. “It must flow right through the cliff. And look-do you see that waterfall splashing halfway down the cliff? That comes out of a hole somewhere up there. I suppose it couldn’t find a way to seep down through the rock, so it has forced itself out up there, and made a waterfall.”
“It’s a very exciting place,” said Jill. “I wish the birds wouldn’t make quite so much noise, though. I can hardly hear myself speak!”
“Where are we going to put the boat?” asked Mary. “There’s no jettyand no sand to drag her on to. What shall we do?”
“I’ll guide her into the deep pool under that overhanging cliff.” said Andy. “And let down the anchor. She’ll be all right there. We can jump across to the rocks nearby.”
“Let’s have dinner first,” said Jill.
“Wellonly just a snack now,” said Tom. to everyone’s surprise. “I’m longing to explore that bird-cliff. It’s marvellous, really marvellous. We don’t want to waste too much time eating. If we had a snack now, we could make a good meal on the way back.”
“Right,” said Andy. So they hurriedly made some sandwiches of bread and butter and potted meat. They ate them, had a drink, and then, with the Andy lying quietly at anchor, looked to see which rock would be the best to jump to.
“There’s a rock just under water here,” said Jill, peering over the side of the boat. “We’ll tread on that, and then we can easily get to that big rock there, and so to the rocky ledge at the bottom of the cliff.”
They took off their shoes and tied them round their necks. Then they made their way across the rocks to the foot of the cliff. Not far off the river that came out of a cavern in the cliff surged into the sea, frothing and seething where its current met the waves of the sea. The waters there boiled and surged and made a great noise. Altogether it was a very deafening place, for the sea-birds never once stopped their loud clamouring and calling.
“I’ll find the easiest path up the cliff,” said Andy, who was as good as a goat on hill or cliff. “You follow me carefully. It’s a steep cliff, but not dangerous to anyone like us that’s used to climbing about. Look out for any slippery bit. You go last, Tom, in case one of the girls should slip.”
With the clamour of the buds round them, and a ceaseless swish of wings, the four children began their steep climb. There were plenty of good footholds and handholds, but their parents would certainly not have liked to watch them going slowly upwards, higher and higher. Soon they looked like specks against the towering cliffs.
They had their rubber shoes on again now, and Tom carried his camera slung over his shoulder. Soon they came to the nesting-places, high up beyond the reach of any stormy waves. The frightened, angry birds flew off their eggs. There were no nests at all. Jill was grieved to see yet more eggs roll into the sea.
“Some of them don’t fall off,” she called. “They just roll round and round. Look what a funny shape they areawfully pointed at one end.”
“Eggs shaped like that don’t roll away so easily,” said Andy. “They are meant to roll round and round in exactly the same spot.”
Soon they came to a narrow ledge that seemed almost like a pathway round the cliff-side. It was about halfway up. Jill suddenly gave a cry.
“Andy! I’ve just looked down! And oh, I don’t like it a bit! I might fall, it makes me giddy.”
“Don’t be silly,” said Andy, who didn’t mind heights at all. “You’ve never minded before. Follow me, and I’ll take you round the cliff a bit, where there’s a wider place you can rest in. You’re tired!”
Trembling, poor Jill followed Andy closely, not daring to look down at the far-away sea again. Neither Tom nor Mary minded a bit. They thought it was funny of Jill to feel afraid.
The ledge was a favourite nesting-place for the birds, and the children had to be careful not to tread on the eggs. Jill was glad when the rocky pathway widened out, and became a fine resting-place. At the back of this resting-place was a shallow cave. The children crawled into it, and lay there, panting, warm with their climb.
“I’ll just go out and see if I can take a few snaps,” said Tom, at last. But just as he was about to go, he stopped. He heard a noise that sounded most peculiar in that deserted, sea-bird-haunted placethe sound of somebody whistling a well-known tune! How very strange!
CHAPTER 4.
A Real Puzzle.
THE whistle sounded loud and clear. The children listened in the utmost astonishment. Somebody on the Cliff of Birds! Who in the wide world could it be?
A wild clamouring of sea-birds began again and the whistling was drowned in the noise. The children looked at one another.
“Did you hear that?” said Tom. “It was someone whistling!”
“We’ll see who it was,” said Andy, and he half-started up. Jill pulled him back.
“He might be cross if he knew we were here. He might be a bird-watcher or photographer or somethingand if he thought we had disturbed the birds, he’d be angry.”
“Wellit’s our cliff as much as his,” said Andy, shaking his shoulder free from Jill’s hold. The whistling sounded again, very clear indeed, and a scraping sound told the children that the whistler must be coming near.
“He’s just above us!” said Jill, in a startled whisper. “Ohlook!”
Above the cave they were resting in, was a narrow ledge. On this ledge the whistler had sat himself down, for, dangling over the top edge of the cave suddenly appeared a pair of bare legs.
The children stared at these legs in silence. They didn’t like them a bit. They were enormous legs, and on the end of them were enormous feet, very dirty indeed. The legs were covered with thick black hairs, almost like the fur of an animal.
Somehow the children felt that the owner of these legs would be as horrid as his dangling feet! They didn’t say a word. Jill’s heart beat rather fast. She stared at the swinging feet, and wished they would go away.
The whistling went on and on. Then, dropped deliberately down to the rocky ledge that lay in front of the cave, came some sea-birds’ eggs. They were flung down to make a splash as they smashed. The children felt indignant. How horrid of anyone to break birds’ eggs on purpose like that!
But no one said a word. There was something about those great legs that made them feel rather afraid. Whoever was up there didn’t know there was anyone about but himselfand he would be the kind of fellow who wouldn’t welcome children at all! Whatever could he be? Not a fisherman, surely.
And how could he have come to the Cliff of Birds? The children had seen no boat in the bay below. They hoped that the man wouldn’t spot their boat, either. At the moment they felt sure it couldn’t be seen from where the man sat.
“Let’s wriggle right to the back of the cave,” whispered Tom. “In case that fellow comes down a bit lower and sees us.”
They wriggled back. They could still see the dangling legs, with their big ugly feet and toes. Then they saw something else. The man was swinging a pair of field-glasses by their strap, and the children could see them going to and fro by the man’s feet.