THE WILD MAN
had fallen asleep on the dry ferns and grass heaped up for them at the back of the cave, as their cries were more torment to me than my own emptiness.
'The sun had long ago set, and the autumnal twilight, reflected in the pools of still water left by the far receded tide, was gradually fading from the sky, when I fancied I could hear a low heart-rending moan from off the desolate waste of sand before me. Again and again it sounded, and at last realising that it might be uttered by some creature in distress, I stood up and, as far as the fading light would permit, scanned the sands in every direction.
'Nothing, however, could I see, and as the moan still continued at intervals and became, in fact, more and more painful and beseeching, I wandered about, a prey to the liveliest anxiety, endeavouring to discover whence it proceeded.
'At length I perceived on the sand, at a little distance before me, a small dark motionless object, and at that instant a harrowing sound, arising therefrom on the evening air, left me in no doubt as to the origin of the moans I had already heard. Creeping as quietly as possible on my hands and knees quite close to it, I found it to be a lovely blue point oyster, and bringing my head to a level with the shell, I asked coaxingly, and in as soft a voice as I could command, what ailed it.
'"Alas!" said the oyster, "a little while ago I possessed a child as sweet as ever chortled to its 168
