"Listen how the sea thunders," said Christian; and just then a cloud of hissing spray came up to them, high as they were, from the boiling surge below.
They turned back, laughing as every gust tore them a little apart.
Before they passed the cottage on their return they were conscious of faint cries from beneath.
"Hark," said Mona, "surely they were voices from the sea."
There could be no doubt of it now. Several voices were calling in accents of fearful agony, and above the rest was one wild thin shriek. It seemed to echo in the lowering dome of the empty sky—was such a cry of distress as might haunt one's dreams for years.
"It's from the boat we saw, and they're on the Moar Reef, too surely," said Christian. Then they hastened on.
When they reached the shore they found the sea running high. A long ground-swell was breaking in the narrow strait between the main–land and the Castle Isle. Flakes of sea-foam were flying around them. The waves were scooping up the shingle and flinging it through the air like sleet.
The cries were louder here than above. By the light of Danny's fire it was but too easy to see from whence they came. Jammed between two huge protruding horns of rock a fishing-boat was laboring hard in the heavy sea, rearing with a creak on the great waves, and plunging down with a crash and groan on the sharp teeth of the shoal beneath her.
The men on deck could be seen hacking at the mast
