The Black Tor Part 7

"Of course. Come early, my boy. I've a lot of things to show you that I've found since you were at home, and we'll plan out some reading, eh?

Mustn't go back and get rusty, because you are at home. We'll read a great deal, and then you won't have time to think about knocking Ralph Darley's brains out--if he has any. You haven't much, or you wouldn't help to keep up this feud."

"Oh, please don't say any more about that, Master Rayburn."

"Not a word, boy. Must go on--a beautiful worm morning."

The old man turned his back again.

"Don't be late," he cried; and he waded onward, stooping, and looking more humped and comical than ever, as he bent forward to throw his bait into likely places, while Mark Eden went onward down-stream.

"I like old Master Rayburn," he said to himself; "but I wish he wouldn't be so bitter about the old trouble. It isn't our fault. Father would be only too glad to shake hands and be friends, if the Darleys were only nice, instead of being such savage beasts."

He went on, forcing his way among the bushes, and clambering over the great blocks of stone which strewed the sides of the river, and then stopped suddenly, as he sent up a moor-hen, which flew across the river, dribbling its long thin toes in the water as it went.

"I wonder," he said thoughtfully, "whether the Darleys think we are beasts too?"

CHAPTER FIVE.

HOW MARK EDEN FOUND THE RAVEN'S NEST.

"Ah, there he goes," said Mark, beneath his breath, as he stood motionless, and watched a large raven flapping along, high overhead, in the direction he was taking. "Perhaps that's the c.o.c.k bird. Looks big.

The nest may be where old Master Rayburn says, or up this way, and the bird's going for food."

He waited till the raven disappeared, and then went on down-stream, taking to a path higher up, which led him by a pretty cottage, standing in a niche at a bend of the river, so that the place had a good view up and down-stream, and with its pleasant garden, looked the sort of home which might well make its owner content.

But Mark Eden's mind was too full of ravens' nests, to leave room for any contemplation of the old scholar's cottage; and he hurried on by the path, which cut off two or three bends of the river, taking him right away for quite a couple of miles, and bringing him to the water's-edge again, just in front of a mighty cliff, which towered up out of a dense grove of beeches on the other side of the river.

The place was solitary and still in the extreme; and going close down to the water's-edge, Mark Eden seated himself upon a mossy stone, between two great hawthorns, which hid him from anything coming up or down-stream, while brambles, ferns, and cl.u.s.tering hemlock-plants, hid his back and front.

It was a pleasant resting-place, to sit and watch the rapidly running river, which was very shallow here; and from his hiding-place, he could see the shadows of the ripples, and the stony bottom, and also those cast by trout, as they glided here and there, waiting for the unfortunate flies and caterpillars which had fallen from overhanging boughs, to be washed down the stream.

But Mark had but a glance for the fish: his attention was taken up by the ma.s.s of precipitous stone before him, so steep, that it was only here and there, in cracks or on ledges, that herb or stunted bush could find a place to root; and as he scanned the precipice, from its foot among the beeches, to its brow, five hundred feet above where he sat, he wondered whether the ravens nested there.

No more likely place could be found for the great birds to rear their young; the cliff looked inaccessible, and days would pa.s.s, sometimes weeks, and not a soul come near.

"Old Master Rayburn must be right," thought the lad. "What eyes he has for everything of this kind. There are no rooks in the beeches; there isn't a jackdaw about; and I haven't seen a rock-dove; all proof that the ravens are here, for the others would not dare to nest near them.

Only be to hatch young ones for food. But I don't see my gentleman nor his lady."

A hoa.r.s.e, distant bark was heard, just as the lad's neck began to ache with staring up in vain, in the search for the nest, and he sat perfectly motionless, crouched amongst the hemlock and heracleum, to be rewarded by seeing a shadow thrown on the white limestone far on high, and directly after one of the great glossy black birds alight, right on the edge of the cliff, from whence it hopped into the air, and seemed to let itself fall some forty feet, down behind a stunted patch of broom, which had rooted in a cleft. There it disappeared for a few moments, to reappear, diving down toward the stream, but only to circle upward again, rise higher and higher, and finally disappear over the cliff, half a quarter of a mile away.

"Found it!" panted Mark; "a nest with young ones. Chance if there are any eggs for Master Rayburn."

He leaned back to examine the place.

"Can't get up there," he muttered at last; "but it would be easy to get down from the top. I could do it, but--"

He took off his cap, and gave his brown hair a vicious scratch, for there were other obstacles in the way.

It would be easy to wade across the river; easy to make his way along the other side to where the cliff sloped, five hundred yards lower down the stream. From there he could reach the high down, which was broken off short to form the cliff, and walk along the edge till he was exactly over the nest, and then descend. Those were not obstacles, but trifles.

The great difficulty was moral. That great ma.s.s of limestone was on the Darley estate, and for a few minutes, the lad felt as if he must give it up.

But obstacles only spurred him on to action, and he cried to himself, petulantly:

"Is it theirs? Who are they, to claim an open wild place like that?

They'll be saying next that all Darbyshire belongs to them. It's as much ours as theirs, and, if we had our rights, it would be ours. I shall go, in spite of all the Darleys in the county. Who are they?

Piece of rock and moor like that, and they claim it. Let them. I shall not stop away for them."

The boy flushed, and ignoring the fact that he was about to commit a trespa.s.s, he slipped off shoes and hose, waded straight across the shallow river, and sat down on the other side to dry his feet, and put on hose and shoes again.

And all the time he felt a strong desire to glance up and down the river, to see if he had been observed by any one; but in his pride of heart he would not, for fear that he would be seen watching, and some one connected with his family's enemies take it for a sign of fear.

This done, he rose, gave his feet a stamp, glanced up at the face of the cliff, to see one of the parent ravens fly off, uttering an angry croak; and then he began to bear off to the right, so as to ascend the low part of the cliff, reaching the top quite five hundred yards away, and turning at once to continue his ascent by walking along the edge, which rose steeply, till it reached the point above the raven's nest, and then sloped down into a hollow, to rise once more into the wooded eminence which was crowned by Cliff Castle, the Darleys' home.

"They've a deal better place than we," said Mark to himself, as he strode on, in full defiance of the possibility of being seen, though it was hardly likely, a great patch of mighty beech-trees, mingled with firs, lying between the top of the big cliff and the Darleys' dwelling.

"More trees, and facing toward the west and south, with the river below them, while our home is treeless and bare, and looks to the north and east, and is often covered with snow when their side's sunny and bright.

My word! warm work, climbing up here, and the gra.s.s is as slippery as if it had been polished. Mustn't go over. Father wouldn't like it if I were to be killed; but I shouldn't be, for I should come down in the tree-tops, and then fall from bough to bough into the river, and it's deep just under the raven's nest."

Thinking this, he went on, up and up, cautiously, clear of head as one who had from childhood played about the cliffs, and reaching the summit breathless, to stand on the extreme verge, watching one of the ravens, which came sailing up, saw him at a distance, rose above his head, and then began to circle round, uttering hoa.r.s.e cries.

"Ah, thief!" cried the lad; "I see what you have in your beak. A chicken; but your tricks are at an end. No more feeding young ravens here."

"Better get to the nest, first, though," said the boy laughingly; and he leaned forward, quite out of the perpendicular, to look down below the bush which sheltered the nest. "Easy enough: I can do it. If Ralph Darley had been half a fellow, he would have taken it himself. Better take off my sword, though. No; mustn't leave that in the enemy's country. I'll take it down with me. Be nice to come up again, and find that one of those ragged Jacks had got hold of it! I wonder whether Sir Morton engaged them the other day. Very likely. He's bad enough to do such an ungentlemanly thing. What did that fellow call himself. Pearl nose? Ought to have been Ruby nose. No, no; I remember now; it was Pearl Rose. My word, how high and mighty he was! Quite threatening.

He'd go straight to Sir Morton Darley, if father did not enlist him and his men in our service. That upset father, just as he was thinking whether he should have them. He never could bear being threatened. How soon he sent them about their business, and threatened to summon the miners as well as our men. It will be awkward, though, if Sir Morton has engaged them, and strengthened his followers like that. May mean an attack. I wonder whether he did take their offer. If he has, father will wish he had agreed to the fellow's terms. I don't know, though.

As he said to me, they would have been falling out with the mine men, and they seemed a ragged, drunken-looking set. Glad he sent them about their business."

All this, suggested by the possibility of losing his sword, just when he was upon an enemy's land; but he had not stopped on the top to think, for after lying down upon his breast, to gaze down and select the best place for his descent, he turned as he mused, lowered his legs, and began to descend, finding that after all his sword was not much in his way.

It was no new thing to Mark Eden to climb about the limestone cliffs, which formed one side of the Gleame, sometimes sloping down gradually, at others perpendicular, and in some cases partly overhanging, though in the latter case, it meant only for a few winters before, after being well saturated, the frost split them, piece by piece, till they went thundering down among the trees, generally to bound right into the river bed.

But, sloping or perpendicular, the formation was nearly always the same, stratum after stratum of from one to three feet in thickness, lying one upon the other, and riven into blocks which looked as if they had been laid by giant masons, to form a monstrous wall. Consequently, between the strata and their upright dividing cracks, there were plenty of places where a bold climber could find foot and hand-hold, without counting upon roots of trees, wiry shrubs, and tough herbs, to hold on by when other objects failed.

So easily enough, down went Mark, humming his tune again, and changing the humming to singing about the three ravens sitting on a tree, though in this instance, excepting the young in the nest below, there were only two, and instead of sitting, they were sailing round and round, croaking and barking angrily, the c.o.c.k bird, if it was not the hen, making a pretence every now and then, to dart down and strike at the would-be marauder, who was descending to their home.

But Mark lowered himself steadily enough, laughing at the angry birds, and listening for the first cries of their young, as he wondered how big they would be.

He soon found that appearances were deceitful, upon a great height like that, for instead of the bush which hid the nest, being forty feet from the cliff brow, it was a good sixty, and the climbing was not so good as he had antic.i.p.ated. The limestone crumbled away here and there; tufts of tough gra.s.s came out by the roots, and the stunted stems of bushes were not plentiful enough for hand-hold. But whenever the lad found the place too difficult, he edged off to right or left, and found an easier spot from which he lowered himself, and edged his way back along the joining of the next row of blocks.

To any one gazing from the opposite side, his appearance, flattened against the cliff, would have seemed appalling, but to Mark Eden it was a mere nothing; he was descending the old cliff, and trying to find the easiest way, that was all. No nervous qualms troubled him, and the thought of falling never once came into his head.

Lower and lower, with the sun beating upon his back, and the ravens croaking more and more loudly, and getting more threatening.

"Just wait till I get down to the bush, my fine fellows," he said aloud.

"Then you may come on if you like, and I should like to see you do it; only look out, for it means spitting yourselves. Glad I brought my sword."

He was now only about ten feet above the bush; and as he held on for a few moments and looked down, he saw that there was a good-sized ledge in front of a cranny, in which the nest must be, and upon this ledge, bones, bits of wool, feathers, and remains of rabbits' fur, were scattered, showing how hard the old birds had worked to feed their young.