Talking in this way they got to Rilby Head, where they found plenty to amuse them. It was a splendid headland, rising bluff four hundred feet out of the sea, and presenting magnificent reaches of rock scenery on all sides. The boys lay on the turf at the summit, and flung innocuous stones at the sea-gulls as they sailed far below them over the water, and every now and then pounced at some stray fish that came to the surface; or they watched the stately barks as they sailed by on the horizon, wondering at their cargo and destination; or chaffed the fishermen, whose boats heaved on the waves at the foot of the promontory. When they were rested, they visited a copper-mine by the side of the head, and filled their pockets with bits of bright quartz or red shining spar, which they found in plenty among the rocks. In the afternoon they strolled towards home, determining to stop a little at the Stack on their way. The Stack formed one of the extremities of Ellan Bay, and was a huge mass of isolated schist, accessible at low water, but entirely surrounded at high tide. It was a very favorite resort of Eric’s, as the coast all about it was bold and romantic; and he often went there with Russell on a Sunday evening to watch the long line of golden radiance slanting to them over the water from the setting sun--a sight which they often agreed to consider one of the most peaceful and mysteriously beautiful in nature. They reached the Stack, and began to climb to its summit. The sun was just preparing to set, and the west was gorgeous with red and gold. “We shan’t see the line on the waters this evening,” said Eric; “there’s too much of a breeze. But look, what a glorious sunset!” “Yes; it’ll be stormy tomorrow,” answered Russell, “but come along, let’s get to the top; the wind’s rising, and the waves will be rather grand.” “Ay, we’ll sit and watch them; and let’s finish our grub; I’ve got several eggs left, and I want to get them out of my pocket.” They devoured the eggs, and then stood enjoying the sight of the waves, which sometimes climbed up the rock almost to their feet, and then fell back, hissing and discomfited. Suddenly they remembered that it was getting late, and that they ought to get home for tea at seven. “Hallo!” said Russell, looking at his watch, “it’s half-past six. We must cut back as hard as we can. By the bye, I hope the tide hasn’t been coming in all this time.” “Good God!” said Montagu, with a violent start, “I’m afraid it has, though! What asses we have been, with our waves and sunsets. Let’s set off as hard as we can pelt.” Immediately they scrambled, by the aid of hands and knees, down the Stack, and made their way for the belt of rock which joined it to the mainland; but, to their horror, they at once saw that the tide had come in, and that a narrow gulf of sea already divided them from the shore.