Of course we went first to look at the black cave-entrance. Sure
enough, a great flat slab had fallen down from it and lay half in
the water,--we could see scratchy marks and broken places where it
had slid. The cave itself was about six feet deep, and very dank and
dismal-looking. There was no sign of there ever having been
treasure, for nobody could possibly have buried it, unless they'd
hewn places in the living rock, like ancient Egyptians. We might
have thought of that before, but of course we didn't honestly
believe that there was treasure. Somehow the Sea Monster didn't seem
nearly so jolly and exciting as it had from Wecanicut. It was so
real and big, and whenever a wave came in, it boomed and echoed
under the hanging-over rocks. We climbed around to the other side
and went up on top of the highest place, which was about three times
as high as I am. From there we could see the Headland, very far
away and blue, and Wecanicut behind us, safe and green and
friendly-looking, but a long way off; and nothing else but a smeary
line of smoke from a steamer at sea.
"We named this place well," I said; "it _is_ a Monster."
"Brrrr, hear it roar!" Jerry said. "The waves must be bigger, or
something. There weren't any when we came out."
We looked down and saw that the water was behaving differently.
Instead of being smooth and rolling, there was a skitter of sharp
ripples all over it, and the waves went _slap_ and frothed white
when they hit the rock.
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