“There’s only one way for it,” said Eric; “if we’re plucky we can jump that; but we musn’t wait till it gets worse. A good jump will take us _nearly_ to the other side--far enough, at any rate, to let us flounder across somehow.” As fast as they could they hurried along down to the place where the momentarily increasing zone of water seemed as yet to be narrowest; and where the rocks on the other side were lower than those on which they stood. Their situation was by no means pleasant. The wind had been rising more and more, and the waves dashed into this little channel with such violence, that to swim it would have been a most hazardous experiment, particularly as they could not dive in from the ledge on which they stood, from their ignorance of the depth of water. Eric’s courage supported the other two. “There’s no good _thinking_ about it,” said he, “jump we _must_; the sooner the better. We can but be a little hurt at the worst. Here, I’ll set the example.” He drew back a step or two, and sprang out with all his force. He was a practised and agile jumper, and, to their great relief, he alighted near the water’s edge, on the other side, where, after slipping once or twice on the wet and seaweed-covered rocks, he effected a safe landing, with no worse harm than a wetting up to the knees. “Now then, you too,” he shouted; “no time to lose.” “Will you jump first, Monty?” said Russell; “both of you are better jumpers than I, and to tell the truth I’m rather afraid.” “Then I won’t leave you,” said Montagu; “we’ll both stay here.” “And perhaps be drowned or starved for our pains No, Monty, _you_ can clear it, I’ve no doubt.” “Couldn’t we try to swim it together, Edwin?” “Madness! look there.” And as he spoke, a huge furious wave swept down the whole length of the gulf by which they stood, roaring and surging along till the whole water seethed, and tearing the seaweeds from their roots in the rock. “Now’s your time,” shouted Eric again. “What _are_ you waiting for? For God’s sake, jump before another wave comes.” “Monty, you _must_ jump now,” said Russell, “if only to help me when I try.” Montagu went back as far as he could, which was only a few steps, and leapt wildly forward. He lighted into deep water, nearly up to his neck, and at first tried in vain to secure a footing on the sharp slippery schist; but he stumbled forwards vigorously, and in half a minute, Eric leaning out as far as he could, caught his hand, and just pulled him to the other side in time to escape another rush of tumultuous and angry foam. “Now, Edwin,” they both shouted, “it’ll be too late in another minute. Jump for your life.”