Time for a Cuppa!

The Magazine

For all the Family

Counter Data.com

website traffic company Counter

The Cave

Mike Coatesworth

Well I am on the Yorkshire moors typing away on my laptop.

Above me, the Skylarks are singing merrily as they soar high into the heavens and then close their wings to plummet earthwards and then at a precise point they open their wings and level off and do a loop the loop. All this is done in one well rehearsed movement, and a movement that would take the world's best skydiver years of practise to master.

As I sit here on the hilltop looking far across the magnificent beauty of the moors, I feel the gentle breeze against my exposed face. In the far distance is my small village of Guiseley. At this précis moment I can hear the church bells chiming, Lesley is here with me and has brought a few sandwiches for us in case we get hungry. Well I do get hungry up here and it is the fresh air that gives me an appetite.

Being here reminds me of when I was a lad when I came up here quite regularly and used to have some great fun. I still do have fun, but in a different way, dare I say a more mature type of amusement?

I was about nine years of age when I first came up here on my own and I felt as if I'd been freed from a cage. As I walked onto the edge of the moors, I fully appreciated the stories that my aunt told me of the magical powers that lingered there for those who loved the wide-open spaces. I knew not to stray too far, as my aunt had drilled this into us almost daily, and she knew that being the adventurous lads that we were, we would have wanted to visit the place that she so often talked about.

She had told us that only the foolish would dare cross the moors alone, and a bigger fool would travel without the right survival equipment.

So as I skirmished around the edge, I told myself that one day I would cross the moors and see where I ended up, not knowing at the time of how vast they were and that it was several miles across. As I walked along, I wished that my brother Roy were with me as I was a little lonely and wanted someone to have an adventure with. Suddenly I came upon a rock formation that I'd never seen before, I guess my mind being filled with the beauty surrounding me, that I had wandered a little further on to the moors than I would normally have dared. Anyway, I didn't think about this too much as I saw a large cave in front of me, now I really did wish that my brother was with me, as together we were a right pair and we would not have hesitated to enter the cave. On my own I was more cautious, but this didn't stop me from investigating the area around the entrance.

It was at this point that I heard a sound behind me, and it was a boy of around my own age.

'Are you going in the cave?' he asked as he came abreast of me

I informed him that it was my first time on the moors on my own, so I was not sure whether it was safe to go in the cave?

He told me his name was Martin and he stated that he'd been around the cave quite often. And also he had been inside the cave, but there wasn't much to see. He stated that he'd never had any problems, and asked if I wanted to have a look?

Well not wanting to appear scared, I said yes as long as he went first. My aunt's warning was singing in my ears, "never venture anywhere unless you sure it is safe." But at that age, safe meant boredom and I did come to look for some adventure. So I followed Martin into the cave and I was surprised at how big it was inside. It was dark and I couldn't see the roof of the cave.

Martin pulled a torch from his coat pocket and lit the way ahead. I stayed close to him, as I didn't fancy being left in the dark on my own. In seconds we reached the back wall of the cave, where Martin bent down and picked up a small rock and handed it to me. Taking t from him, I couldn't see it very well, but parts of it glittered in the torchlight. Martin informed me that I would see it better when we got outside.

Suddenly a loud noise like a crack of a whip sounded above us and Martin grabbed me and shouted, "run!" Well I didn't need to be told twice and holding onto my rock I ran to the entrance with Martin behind urging me on and I saw the dust overtaking me. I got just outside the cave, when I felt my collar being tugged hard and my feet left the ground and I was pulled sideways away from the entrance. "You stupid fool" shouted my dad. "What the 'Eck do you think you are playing at?" He went on to shout at me on the dangers and of being in the cave without an adult, or safety equipment.

When I finally had my feet back on the ground and managed to get a word in, I explained that I wasn't alone and that my friend Martin was with me.

We looked around but there was no sign of Martin. I informed my dad that my friend must still be in the cave.

Cursing, my dad went to the cave entrance and by now the dust had almost settled, then he disappeared into the cave and a few moments later he returned and told me that I was lucky as there had been only a very small rock fall, but there was no sign of Martin.

"You'd better put this away in your pocket," he stated as he handed me the torch that was still switched on.

I explained that it was Martin's and that he wouldn't have left it behind.

My dad, taking the torch, went once again into the cave and a while later returned. He stated that he'd searched the entire cave and there was no sign of my friend. He saw the worried look on my face and knew what I was thinking. He said the rock-fall was not that big, only a few minor rocks ad that there had been more dust than anything else. There was no way that Martin had been hurt under it.

He had a good look around the area and then finally he returned to me and shrugged his shoulders. As a precaution, we went to the local police station and I related the incident to the local Bobby. He asked what the lad was wearing, and when I told him that he had a blue shirt with a neckerchief and black shorts, the policeman smiled. He informed us that we weren't the first to report similar incidents regarding the young boy and that cave, he said they would check it out as they had done with every other reported incident, but didn't think he would find anything. He told us, that, years previously, five boy scouts had been killed in that cave and that one of the scouts had been named Martin.

I was shocked, and automatically I reached out for the torch that I had placed on the table to show the policeman, but it had gone! The policeman smiled again, "don't worry lad, it will turn up again, it always does."

Since that day, the cave had completely collapsed, but we had learned later that the police had deliberately caused a rock-fall to block it off to stop other youngsters going in to the cave. Every time I come up here, I think of that day and I get goose pimples when I see someone waving near the old cave entrance, I know that it is only some boy calling to his friend, and that it couldn't possibly be Martin waving to me.

Or could it?

Mike Coatesworth

If you think my stories are true, then they probably are

If you think my stories are fiction, then just relax and enjoy the tales

*****

Note: No part of this story can be reproduced in any way without the author's written permission. All rights remain with the author.

My novels

http://www.btinternet.com/~mikeco158/onetear1.htm

http://www.btinternet.com/~mikeco158/cuppa1.htm

*****

Sign my GuestBook - Read my GuestBook