CHAP. viii. HA VEN OF B ROUGH. 95 



blotted out of existence altogether. There is a prophecy 

 for you ! 



" I remember once getting up, towards the end of 

 harvest, while the blue canopy above was still adorned 

 and enriched with innumerable stars. I was gaily crossing 

 Dunnet sands in the first peep of day, when I made 

 directly across the peninsula for the stupendous cliff 

 immediately westward of the little haven of Brough. I 

 found that the tide did not retire far from the coast, but 

 rose and fell close to the cliffs, wetting and allowing to 

 dry the big stones at the base of the precipice. 



" The cliff, under which I rested for a time, was about 

 150 feet high. It seemed sound and hard. The morn- 

 ing sun rose in beauty. I hammered away, and kept 

 moving down upon the hamlet of Brough. There I found 

 the cliffs in sad decay ; in fact, they were a sloping mass 

 of rotten materials. A little out to sea there is a ledge 

 of what was once red sandstone. It is a mouldering 

 hint of what is to come. It is 50 feet in height, and 

 rests upon slate. 



" I had made this long journey in the hope of find- 

 ing some very fine organisms where the slate cropped 

 out from beneath the sand. I found a few fish scales 

 and droppings, but no fossils ; and sounded a retreat, 

 very much chagrined at having to return home almost 

 empty-handed. 



" There is a loch or two near Dunnet Head. There is 

 one on the top of the hill. It is a quiet secluded spot, 

 a place of great attraction for wild swans, geese, and 

 ducks, during their autumnal migration, when winging 



