The Lighthouse | Page 2

as they neared the

foaming spot, gradually changing their broad-backed form, and coming
on in majestic walls of green water, which fell with indescribable
grandeur into the seething caldron. No rocks were visible, there was no
apparent cause for this wild confusion in the midst of the otherwise
calm sea. But the fishermen knew that the Bell Rock was underneath
the foam, and that in less than an hour its jagged peaks would be left
uncovered by the falling tide.
As the swell of the sea came in from the eastward, there was a belt of
smooth water on the west side of the rock. Here the fishermen cast
anchor, and, baiting their hand-lines, began to fish. At first they were
unsuccessful, but before half an hour had elapsed, the cod began to
nibble, and Big Swankie ere long hauled up a fish of goodly size. Davy
Spink followed suit, and in a few minutes a dozen fish lay spluttering in
the bottom of the boat.
"Time's up noo," said Swankie, coiling away his line.
"Stop, stop, here's a wallupper," cried Davy, who was an excitable man;
"we better fish a while langer--bring the cleek, Swankie, he's ower big
to--noo, lad, cleek him! that's it!--Oh-o-o-o!"
The prolonged groan with which Davy brought his speech to a sudden
termination was in consequence of the line breaking and the fish
escaping, just as Swankie was about to strike the iron hook into its side.
"Hech! lad, that was a guid ane," said the disappointed man with a sigh;
"but he's awa'."
"Ay," observed Swankie, "and we must awa' too, so up anchor, lad. The
rock's lookin' oot o' the sea, and time's precious."
The anchor was speedily pulled up, and they rowed towards the rock,
the ragged edges of which were now visible at intervals in the midst of
the foam which they created.
At low tide an irregular portion of the Bell Rock, less than a hundred
yards in length, and fifty yards in breadth, is uncovered and left

exposed for two or three hours. It does not appear in the form of a
single mass or islet, but in a succession of serrated ledges of various
heights, between and amongst which the sea flows until the tide has
fallen pretty low. At full ebb the rock appears like a dark islet, covered
with seaweed, and studded with deep pools of water, most of which are
connected with the sea by narrow channels running between the ledges.
The highest part of the rock does not rise more than seven feet above
the level of the sea at the lowest tide.
To enter one of the pools by means of the channels above referred to is
generally a matter of difficulty, and often of extreme danger, as the
swell of the sea, even in calm weather, bursts over these ledges with
such violence as to render the channels at times impassable. The utmost
caution, therefore, is necessary.
Our fishermen, however, were accustomed to land there occasionally in
search of the remains of wrecks, and knew their work well. They
approached the rock on the lee-side, which was, as has been said, to the
westward. To a spectator viewing them from any point but from the
boat itself, it would have appeared that the reckless men were sailing
into the jaws of certain death, for the breakers burst around them so
confusedly in all directions that their instant destruction seemed
inevitable. But Davy Spink, looking over his shoulder as he sat at the
bow-oar, saw a narrow lead of comparatively still water in the midst of
the foam, along which he guided the boat with consummate skill,
giving only a word or two of direction to Swankie, who instantly acted
in accordance therewith.
"Pull, pull, lad," said Davy.
Swankie pulled, and the boat swept round with its bow to the east just
in time to meet a billow, which, towering high above its fellows, burst
completely over the rocks, and appeared to be about to sweep away all
before it. For a moment the boat was as if embedded in snow, then it
sank once more into the lead among the floating tangle, and the men
pulled with might and main in order to escape the next wave. They
were just in time. It burst over the same rocks with greater violence
than its predecessor, but the boat had gained the shelter of the next

ledge, and lay floating securely in the deep, quiet pool within, while the
men rested on their oars, and watched the chaos of the water rush
harmlessly by.
In another moment they had landed and secured the boat to a projecting
rock.
Few words of conversation passed between these practical men. They
had gone there on particular business. Time and tide