Steve’s eyes were still fixed upon the rock. He studied it intently for a few minutes more before suddenly crawling forward on his hands and knees. He pushed away some of the green vegetation, exposing a long, uneven niche in the rock. A few feet above it he uncovered another. His eyes followed the indentations up to the small crest of the rock, then he turned to Pitch. “They’re almost like steps,” he said excitedly. “Do you think the sea could have cut them in the rocks, Pitch?”

“I suppose so,” Pitch returned, after studying the niches. “Although they do seem to be about the same distance apart, leading right across. Maybe they even go to the wall.”

“It’s hard to tell,” Steve said, “because the moss covers them so well. If we can find them, they’ll give us a little foothold.” Steve’s hands were on the rock. “Shall we try it now, Pitch?”

Pitch knelt directly behind Steve. “I suppose so,” he said hesitantly. “I’ll never be more ready than I am now.”

They heard a wave strike the face of the rock, then the waters came pouring over the sides sweeping past them and covering the low rock. They waited until the waters drained from the rock and the way was clear again; then Steve went ahead, followed closely by Pitch.

Steve was in a full crouch, his hands clawing at the rock in front of him until he found the cuts; then he brought his feet up to them, while his hands moved forward again, searching for the footholds he hoped he’d find beneath the green moss. When he reached the small crest of the rock he started down toward the wall, only a few feet away. It was more difficult finding the cuts now—or perhaps there were none, he thought. He stopped looking for them as he heard the next wave crash with a dull thud against the large rock behind him. There were only a few seconds now before the water would sweep over the path he was following. Ahead he saw a long narrow ledge on the wall, a few feet above the rock. He let go. Sliding and slipping, he went over the remaining bit of rock until he had reached the wall, then quickly stepped up to the ledge. He no sooner had turned his back to the wall than Pitch was climbing up beside him.

They stood there catching their breath while the wave covered the rock, swept up to their feet, then receded, rolling seaward.

“It could have been worse,” Steve said encouragingly.

“Yes. Yes, I suppose so,” Pitch said slowly. Then he turned and looked at the ledge running along the wall. “We can’t just stand here, Steve, so let’s see where this goes. If it comes to nothing we’ll just have to call it quits and go back again.”