poke--"don't stir for your life."

"But," I shouted, with my voice sounding as if I was covered with a
blanket, "I want to come to you."

"Stop where you are," he cried. "I command you."

I stayed where I was, and the next moment a fresh voice cried to me, as
if pitying my condition:

"Cob, lad."

"Yes," I cried.

"There is a horrible precipice. Don't stir."

It was Uncle Bob who said this to comfort me, and make me safe from
running risks, but he made me turn all of a cold perspiration, and I
stood there shivering, listening to the murmur of voices that came to me
in a stifled way.

At last I could bear it no longer. It seemed so strange. Only a minute
or two ago we were all together on the top of a great hill admiring the
prospect. Now we were separated. Then all seemed open and clear, and
we were looking away for miles: now I seemed shut-in by this pale white
gloom that stopped my sight, and almost my hearing, while it numbed and
confused my faculties in a way that I could not have felt possible.

"Uncle Jack!" I cried, as a sudden recollection came back of a cry I
had heard.

"He is not here," cried Uncle Bob. "He is trying to find a way down."

"Where is Uncle Dick?"

"Hush, boy! Don't ask."

"But, uncle, I may come to you, may I not?" I cried, trembling with the
dread of what had happened, for in spite of my confused state I realised
now that Uncle Dick must have fallen.

"My boy," he shouted back, "I daren't say yes. The place ends here in a
terrible way. We two nearly went over, and I dare not stir, for I
cannot see a yard from my feet. I am on a very steep slope too."

"But where has Uncle Jack gone then?"

"Ahoy!" came from somewhere behind me, and apparently below.

"Ahoy! Uncle Jack," I yelled.

"Ahoy, boy! I want to come to you. Keep shouting
_here_--_here_--_here_."

I did as he bade me, and he kept answering me, and for a minute or two
he seemed to be coming nearer. Then his voice sounded more distant, and
more distant still; then ceased.

"Cob, I can't hear him," came from near me out of the dense gloom. "Can
you?"

"No!" I said with a shiver.

"Ahoy, Jack!" roared Uncle Bob.

"Ahoy-oy!" came from a distance in a curiously stifled way.

"Give it up till the fog clears off. Stand still."

There was no reply, and once more the terrible silence seemed to cling
round me. The gloom increased, and I sank on my knees, not daring to
stand now, but listening,