Then Feargus roused him and drew forth the oars and steered their way among the rocks and green waters now still and sleepful that had been so fierce. Here they had made a small bay, there a creek; into one of these he steered the boat up against the rocks, whence he saw the birds fly forth, and at length in a cranny he saw some eggs lying. These he seized and broke and poured between the lips of Torfrida and then of himself. In the creek he found a ledge of rock above high water, and rowed his boat to it and fastened her and there lay down and slept for an hour. Then he arose and, being too weak to use his bow, found more eggs and fed Torfrida with them. Then he landed by scrambling on to the shelf of rock, and, seeking about, found pools of rain water and drank and gave likewise to Torfrida. The next day found him refreshed so that he was able to lift her on to the shelf and himself rowed out a little way in search of eggs, which he found among the crags in great plenty. So they stayed there many days, living in a cave and wandering among the rocks like the sea birds themselves, their daily food the eggs of the seamew and cormorant. And the place was always dark, lying like a watery ravine between the crags, so that the sun never shone there; but their hearts lay deep too between the sorrows that encompassed them and they missed him not. At length their strength was renewed, but they were still fearful of going forth once more on a journey so terrible. And when they left their watery home they sighed, for days of peace had they known there, who had forgotten what peace was; and the cry of the seamew, the floating mists, and the boom of breaking waters had become dear to them, while the very birds knew them and feared them not.