"Don't! don't! You'll never be able to get up again."
But Rachel was already scrambling down, and, in effect, she was
sure-footed and used to her own crags, nor was the distance much above
thirty foot, so that she was soon safe on the shingle, to the extreme
relief of poor Don, shown by grateful whines; but he was still evidently
in pain, and Rachel thought his leg was broken. And how to get up the
rock, with a spaniel that when she tried to lift it became apparently
twice the size she had always believed it to be, and where both hands as
well as feet were required, with the sea fast advancing too?
"My dear Rachel, you will only break your neck, too, it is quite vain to
try!"
"If you could just come to that first rock, perhaps I could push him up
to you!"
Bessie came to it, but screamed. "Oh, I'm not steady; I couldn't do it!
Besides, it would hurt him so, and I know you would fall. Poor fellow,
it is very sad; but indeed, Rachel, your life is more precious than a
dog's!"
"I can't leave him to drown," said Rachel, making a desperate scramble,
and almost overbalancing herself. "Here, if you could only get him by
the scrough of his neck, it would not hurt him so much; poor Don, yes,
poor fellow!" as he whined, but still showed his confidence in the
touching manner of a sensible dog, knowing he is hurt for his good.
Bessie made another attempt, but, unused to rocks, she was uneasy about
her footing, and merely frightened herself. "Indeed," she said, "I had
better run and call some one; I won't be long, and you are really quite
safe."
"Yes, quite safe. If you were down here and I above I am sure he could
do it easily."
"Ah! but I'm no cragswoman; I'll be back instantly."
"That way, that's the shortest, call to Zack or his father," tried
Rachel, as the light figure quickly disappeared, leaving her a little
annoyed at her predicament. She was not at all alarmed for herself,
there was no real danger of drowning, she could at any moment get up
the rock herself if she chose to leave the dog to its fate; but that
she could not bear to think of, and she even thought the stimulus of
necessity might prove the mother of invention, if succour should not
come before that lapping flux and reflux of water should have crept up
the shingly beach, on which she stood; but she was anxious, and felt
more and more drawn to the poor dog, so suffering, yet so patient and
confiding. Nor did she like the awkwardness of being helped in what
ought to be no difficulty at all to a native, and would not have been
had her companion, been Grace or even Conrade. Her hope was that her
ally Zack would come, as she had directed Bessie towards the cottage;
but, behold, after a wearily long interval, it was no blue jacket
that appeared, but a round black sea-hide hat, and a sort of easy
clerical-looking dress, that Bessie was fluttering before!