114 ON THE CLIFFS 



a single trail or hear a disturbing cry, though 

 after his gallops he always stopped to listen. He 

 looked the picture of attention, standing on 

 knoll or barrow with his great ears raised to 

 their full height to catch the voices of the 

 wild. A few seconds only did he bestow on 

 this duty ; he was in too high spirits to give 

 more. His exuberant energies called for vigor- 

 ous exercise, and when he was not spinning along 

 or hearkening, he skipped and frisked about 

 like a frolicsome kid. He travelled miles and 

 miles, ''going all ways," so that midnight had 

 long passed when he set foot on the strip of 

 waste overlooking the sea. There he nibbled 

 the herbage and ate all the blackberries he 

 could find, shrivelled though they were. Rear- 

 ing on his hind legs he stripped every bramble 

 patch before crossing to the cliffs, where he 

 dropped from terrace to terrace till he came 

 to the spot at which he intended to sit. 



But then a steep slope that still more took 

 his fancy opened to his view. Though eager 

 to reach it, he paused at the edge of the chasm 

 that separated him from it ; the turmoil of the 

 water in the gully and the raging of the surge 

 in the great cave to which the gully led dis- 

 concerted and checked him. After a moment's 

 hesitation, however, he leapt the opening, gained 



