n hurt a sheep if there
was one there. My! Wouldn't he scuttle away if he heard it coming."

Bob was right, there was nothing to harm, and the displacement of a big
stone in what was quite a wilderness of rough fragments would not even
be noticed. So up we climbed, and in a few minutes were well on the
ridge grouped on one side of the big boulder.

"Now, then," Bob cried; "you are strongest, old Big, and you shall help
her. Look here; I'll get the bar under, and Sep and I will hoist. Then
you put your shoulder under this corner and heave, and over she goes."

"Bravo, skipper!" I said, for he gave his orders so cleverly and
concisely that the task seemed quite easy.

"Wait a moment," he cried. "I haven't got the bar quite right. That's
it. My! Won't it go!"

"_Pah_! _Tah_! _Tah_! _Tah_!" rang out over our heads just like a
mocking laugh, as a couple of jackdaws flew past, their dark shadows
seeming to brush us softly as they swept by.

"Now, then, Big. Don't stand gaping after those old powder-pates. Now:
are you ready?"

"Yes, I'm ready," cried Bigley.

"And you, Sep? Come and catch hold of the bar. Now, then, altogether.
Heave up, Big. Down with it, Sep. Altogether. Hooray! And over she
goes."

But over she did not go, for the great mass of stone did not budge an
inch.

"Here, let's shift the bar, lads," cried Bob. "I haven't got it quite
right."

He altered the position of the lever, thrusting in a piece of stone
close under the rock so as to form a fulcrum, and then once more being
quite ready he moistened his hands.

"Get your shoulder well under it, Big; shove down well, Sep, and we
shall have such a roarer."

"Wait a moment," I said.

"What for?"

"Let's make sure there's nobody below."

"Oh! There's nobody," cried Bob; though he joined me in looking
carefully down into the gorge; but there was nothing visible but a bird
or two below, and a great hawk circling round and round high above us in
the sunny air, as if watching to see what we were about.

"Oh! There's no one below, and not likely to be," cried Bob. "Now,
then, my jolly sailor boys, heave ho. One--two--three, and over she
goes."

No she didn't.

We pressed down at the lever, and Bigley heaved and grunted like an old
pig grubbing up roots, but the grey mass of stone did not even move.

"Oh! You are a fellow, Big!" cried Bob, stopping to wipe his forehead.
"You didn't half shove."

"That I did!" crie