ld man. "Think o' that now--on'y fifteen and
you sixteen, which means as you've both got 'bout seventy or eighty
years more to live if you behave yourselves."

"Oh, gently!" cried Mike; but Vince did not speak.

"And do you think I'm a-going to cut your young lives short all that
much? Nay. My name's Joe Daygo, and I'm English, and I won't do that.
If I'd been what you two young fellows said--a Spannle--it might be
different, but it arn't. There--let's get back; and one on you can have
the lobster, and t'other the Dory and mullet."

"Then you won't take us round by the Scraw?"

"Right, my lad; I won't."

"Then I tell you what: Vince Burnet and I'll get a boat, and have a look
for ourselves. You're not afraid of things catching hold of the keel,
are you, Cinder?"

"No," said the lad quietly, "I don't think I am."

"Well, I've warned you both; so don't you blame me if you don't come
back," growled the old man.

"Why, how can we if we don't come back?" cried Mike merrily.

The old man shook his head, and sat gazing straight before him from
under his shaggy brows, steering carefully, as the boat now had to make
zigzag tacks among the rocks which dotted the surface away from the
cliffs. Then, in answer to a question from his companion, Vince shook
off his fit of thoughtfulness, and sat chatting about the various
objects they saw, principally about the caves they passed, some of which
were low, arched places, excavated by the sea, whose entrances now stood
out clear, now were covered by a wave which came back foaming from the
compressed air it had shut-in. Then the conversation turned upon the
birds, familiar enough to them, but always fresh and new. All along the
face of these vast cliffs, and upon the outlying rocks, was a grand
place for the study of sea-fowl. They were quite unmolested, save at
nesting-time, and then interfered with but little. This was one of
their strongholds, and, as the boat glided along back, the two lads set
themselves to see how many kinds they passed. There were the two kinds
of cormorant, both long, blackish-green birds, the one distinctive from
the other by the clear white, egg-shaped marks on its sides close to the
tail; rows of little sea-parrots, as they are familiarly called--the
puffins, with their triangular bills; the terns, with their swallow-like
flight; and gulls innumerable--black-headed, black-backed, the common
grey, and the beautiful, delicately-plumaged kittiw