As we got further down, the disturbed sea birds fluttered and
screamed around our heads, the boldest even offering to peck at our
hands, but fearing to do so for all the clatter they made about it.
Once a great gray brent goose, with black head and staring eyes,
approached Thora with a loud, harsh cry, and flapped its wide,
outstretched wings against her. Thora took hold of the rope tightly
with both hands, and placing her feet on a narrow ledge of rock,
looked round and uttered a shrill, "Tr-r-r-r," frightening the bird
away.
When we got safely down to within a couple of fathoms of the
surface of the clear water, we left the rope and made our way along
a strip of flaggy gneiss, until we reached an immense boulder which
had been detached from the main cliff. This great rock lay before
the cavern in a way that, as we found, not only hid the entrance from
view, but also--except, I suppose, in very stormy weather--prevented
the sea from flowing in. I crept behind this barrier, holding Thora's
hand, and we were soon at the mouth of the cave.
A slanting ray of sunshine found its way within, illumining the
great vaulted roof and the dripping stalactites, that looked like
giant icicles hanging above us. We were able to walk or scramble
over the rocks and shingle for a considerable distance.
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