The Pilots of Pomona: A Story of the Orkney IslandsLeighton, Robert
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The Pilots of Pomona: A Story of the Orkney Islands
Leighton, Robert
Orkney (Scotland) -- Fiction
Whilst I was tying the rope to the handle of our basket, Jessie
gathered some stones and threw them down the precipice to attract
Thora's attention to the mouth of the cave. I stood out on the
brink of the cliff above the cavern and allowed the line to slip
through my fingers as though I were "heaving the lead," until the
basket touched upon the rock at the entrance to the cave.
For several minutes we waited for some sign that the food was
accepted. Twice the line was drawn up a little, and the weight of
the basket was still felt. I called for more stones to throw down,
at the same time kicking a loose piece of rock well out, so that it
fell with a loud splash into the deep water. Jessie went about
picking up stones from among the snow, when suddenly an exclamation
escaped her.
"Eh, Hal!" said she; "why here's your magic stone!"
"Impossible!" I exclaimed, unable to believe her.
"I tell you it is, indeed!" she protested; and she brought the
stone to me, holding it in the palm of her hand.
I at once recognized the viking's talisman. And now I felt sure
that Thora was in the cave, and that she had probably dropped the
stone by some accident before going over the brink of the cliff,
for it was at the very edge that Jessie found it.
When I tried the rope again, I felt that the basket was being held.
Then the line was drawn further down, and again set loose, and I
drew it up. The basket had been emptied.
In the afternoon, as the snow had abated, I went out, though
without stating my intention, and returned to the top of the cliff,
determined upon making the descent to the cave and hearing from
Thora her reason for this strange freak of hers, before venturing
to inform them at Crua Breck that I had discovered the girl's
hiding place. The danger of a descent was very great, for the face
of the rocks was in parts coated with frozen snow, and I knew that
besides the difficulty of climbing with cold hands there was the
possibility of slipping upon the icy surface of the ledges. But now
I had my viking stone to protect me, and with less hesitation than
the occasion warranted I proceeded to climb down the precipice, and
was fortunate enough to reach the bottom without accident.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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