Secret of the Ron Mor Skerry by Rosalie K. Fry

Author:Rosalie K. Fry
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781681371672
Publisher: New York Review Books
Published: 2017-07-25T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 6

FIONA WOKE slowly and lay for a while listening for the remembered sound of the foghorns. But they were silent now and when she opened her eyes she was astonished to find herself lying in front of a dying fire in the old McConville kitchen. In a minute it all came back to her and she remembered her mysterious journey with the Chieftain and his clan.

She jumped up and ran to the door to find that the fog had cleared and the sea lay blue and sparkling under a brilliant sun. A solitary seal swam up and down the bay like a sentinel. Beyond him a crowd of screaming seagulls swooped and cried, fishing for their dinner. The sight reminded Fiona that she herself was hungry. She felt in her pocket and pulled out the packet of sandwiches that Granny had cut so many hours ago. She sat down on the cottage doorstep and ate them in the sun. Then, feeling thirsty, she went indoors and, selecting the largest shell from the little table, she ran along the remembered path to the well behind the cottage. It was overgrown with moss and ferns but the water bubbled up clear and sparkling in its little sandy hollow. She dipped her shell again and again into the ice-cold water. Then, feeling very refreshed, she stood up and looked about her, wondering what to do next. She decided to climb the island’s only hill and see how it looked from the top. It was all ablaze with heather now and a wide green track through the purple marked the course of a tiny stream that trickled down to the bay.

She was soon scrambling up the hillside. Butterflies drifted over the heather and bees blundered out of her way. At last she reached the top of the hill, where she climbed a lichen-covered boulder to get a better view.

From this high vantage point it really did look like an island, and a little one at that, for she could see the sea surrounding her completely. It was calm today, and as blue as the little butterflies that fluttered about her feet. On all sides there were islands, the far ones indistinct and shadowy, like half-forgotten dream-isles lost in the shimmering heat-blaze that quivered over the sea.

Directly below where she stood the hill dropped steeply to a rocky coastline where even today the sea swirled restlessly, lifting the shining tangle that grew among the rocks. Then something moved at the water’s edge and she saw that it was a seal.

She jumped off her boulder and raced down the hillside toward the rocks. As she drew near she went more quietly, and when she reached the spot where the last clump of heather overhung the rocks she lay down in its shelter and wriggled cautiously forward to where she could see without being seen.

And there on the rocks lay a dozen seals basking in the sun. She kept perfectly still, determined to make no sound, remembering how she had frightened them off the Ron Mor Skerry yesterday.

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