CHAPTER TWENTY.
FRESH PULLS FROM THE MAGNET.
A week elapsed; the weather had been stormy, and a western gale had brought the sea into a furious state, making the waves deluge the huge western cliffs, and sending the churned-up foam flying over the edge and inland like dingy balls of snow.
And the boys were kept in by the gale?
Is it likely?
The more fiercely the wind blew, the more heavily the huge Atlantic waves thundered against the cliffs and sent the spray flying up in showers, the more they were out on the cliffs searching the dimly seen horizon, watching to see if any ship was in danger.
But it was rare for a ship to be seen anywhere near Cormorant Crag when a sou'-wester blew.

Its rocks and fierce currents were too well known to the hardy mariner, who shook his head and fought his way outward into deep water if he could not reach a port, sooner than be anywhere near that dangerous rock-strewn shore.
Vince and Mike had long known that when the wind was at its highest, and it was hard work to stand against it, there was little danger in being near the edge of some perpendicular precipice, and that there, with the rock-face fully exposed to the gale, and the huge waves rushing in to leap against the towering masses with a noise like thunder, they could sit down in comparative shelter, and gaze with feelings akin to awe at the tumult below.
Why?
For the simple reason that, after striking against a high, flat surface, the swift current of air must go somewhere.

It cannot turn back and meet the winds following it, neither can it dive into the sea.
It can only go upward, and sweeps several feet beyond the edge of the cliff before it curves over and continues its furious journey over the land, leaving at the brink a spot that is undisturbed.
These places were favoured always by the boys, who would generally be the only living creatures visible, the birds having at the first breaking out of the storm hastened to shelter themselves on the other side of the island.
"Sea's pretty busy cave-making to-day," said Vince, on one of these stormy mornings.

"I wonder what it's like in the cave in front of our place." "All smooth, of course," said Mike.

"It's on the other side, and it's shut-in, so I daresay it doesn't make a bit of difference there.