When Wright and Vernon left the others, they walked along the coast, following the direction of the boat, and agreed to amuse themselves in collecting eggs. They were very successful, and, to their great delight, managed to secure some rather rare specimens. When they had tired themselves with this pursuit, they lay on the summit of one of the cliffs which formed the sides of Avon Glen, and Wright, who was very fond of poetry, read Vernon a canto of _Marmion_ with great enthusiasm. So they wiled away the morning, and when the canto was over, Vernon took a great stone and rolled it for amusement over the cliff's edge. It thundered over the side, bounding down till it reached the strand, and a large black cormorant, startled by the reverberating echoes, rose up suddenly, and flapped its way with protruded neck to a rock on the farther side of the little bay. "I bet you that animal's got a nest somewhere near here," said Vernon eagerly. "Come, let's have a look for it; a cormorant's egg would be a jolly addition to our collection." They got up, and looking down the face of the cliff saw, some eight feet below them, a projection half hidden by the branch of a tree, on which the scattered pieces of stick clearly showed the existence of a rude nest. They could not, however, see whether it contained eggs or no. "I must bag that nest; it's pretty sure to have eggs in it," said Vernon, "and I can get at it easy enough." He immediately began to descend towards the place where the nest was built, but he found it harder than he expected. "Hallo," he said, "this is a failure. I must climb up again to reconnoitre if there isn't a better dodge for getting at it." He reached the top, and, looking down, saw a plan of reaching the ledge which promised more hope of success. "You'd better give it up, Verny," said Wright. "I'm sure it's harder than we fancied. _I_ couldn't manage it, I know." "Oh no, Wright, never say die. Look; if I get down more toward the right the way's plain enough, and I shall have reached the nest in no time." Again he descended in a different direction, but again he failed. The nest could only be seen from the top, and he lost the proper route. "You must keep more to the right." "I know," answered Vernon; "but, bother take it, I can't manage it, now I'm so far down. I must climb up _again_." "_Do_ give it up, Verny, there's a good fellow. You _can't_ reach it, and really it's dangerous." "Oh no, not a bit of it. My head's very steady and I feel as cool as possible. We mustn't give up; I've only to get at the tree, and then I shall be able to reach the nest from it quite easily." "Well, do take care, that's a dear fellow." "Never fear," said Vernon, who was already commencing his third attempt. This time he got to the tree, and placed his foot on a part of the root, while with his hands he clung on to a clump of heather.