It seemed to be split in two and a shaft of sunlight came through
between. There could be no doubt about it. I saw the end of the
shaft on the moor beneath, while all the rest lay in shadow. I rubbed
my eyes, and got out my glasses. Then I guessed the explanation.
There was a rock tower close against the face of the main precipice
and indistinguishable from it to anyone looking direct at the face.
Only when the sun fell on it obliquely could it be discovered. And
between the tower and the cliff there must be a substantial hollow.

The discovery brought me to my feet, and set me running
towards the end of the shaft of sunlight. I left the heather, scrambled
up some yards of screes, and had a difficult time on some very
smooth slabs, where only the friction of tweed and rough rock
gave me a hold. Slowly I worked my way towards the speck of
sunlight, till I found a handhold, and swung myself into the crack.
On one side was the main wall of the hill, on the other a tower
some ninety feet high, and between them a long crevice varying in
width from three to six feet. Beyond it there showed a small bright
patch of sea.

There was more, for at the point where I entered it there was an
overhang which made a fine cavern, low at the entrance but a
dozen feet high inside, and as dry as tinder. Here, thought I, is the
perfect hiding-place. Before going farther I resolved to return for
food. It was not very easy descending, and I slipped the last twenty
feet, landing on my head in a soft patch of screes. At the burnside I
filled my flask from the whisky bottle, and put half a loaf, a tin of
sardines, a tin of tongue, and a packet of chocolate in my waterproof
pockets. Laden as I was, it took me some time to get up again, but
I managed it, and stored my belongings in a corner of the cave.