, who had quite recovered his spirits and took
up his usual manner; "look at old Sep! He's frightened, and thinks it's
his turn to be stuck in the rock."

"Never mind; let's look for the nets," said Bigley, who seemed to be
more in sympathy with me, and we set to work, finding one before long,
buried all but a scrap of the net in the beach sand and shingle.

This encouraged us, and we hunted with more vigour, finding another
wedged in between some blocks of rock, and soon after we discovered
something that we had certainly expected would have been swept out to
sea, namely, one of the baskets.

It was the one which contained the crab, and it had been driven into a
rock pool surrounded by masses of stone, which had held it as the tide
retired.

To our great satisfaction the crab was still inside alive and uninjured;
but we found no more relics of our expedition. The other baskets were
gone with the eel and prawns, and the third net was wanting. I must
except, though, one of Bigley's shoes, which had been cast up four
hundred yards from the rock pool, and lay at high-water mark in a heap
of sea-weed, battered wreck-wood and shells.

I am not going to enumerate all our adventures during those holidays;
but I must refer to one or two more before passing on for a time to the
more serious matters in connection with the silver mine in the Gap,
where, while we were enjoying ourselves on the shore or up one of the
narrow glens baling out holes to catch the trout, business matters were
progressing fast. Our mishap was soon forgotten, and we determined to
have another prawning trip, for, as Bob Chowne said, there was no risk
over it, if we didn't go and stick ourselves between two stones ready
for the tide to come in and drown us. "But it was an accident," said
Bigley gravely. "Oh, no, it wasn't," cried Bob; "an accident's where
you can't help it--where a boat upsets, or a horse falls down, or a
wheel falls off, or you slip over the edge of the cliff."

"Well, that was an accident too," I said; "wasn't he nearly drowned?"

"No," cried Bob, "not nearly; and how could it be an accident when he
crept into the hole, and turned round and stuck fast when he tried to
get out?"

It was of no use to argue with Bob that morning, as we three ran down to
the shore after finding that old Uggleston's lugger was at sea, crushing
the weed under our feet, and enjoying the curious salt smell that
ascended to our nostrils. We had anot