September, 1901.] 



KNOWLEDGE. 



199 



that have been squeezed and uptiltod at a vei^ early 

 period. They are contoniporary with the central masses 

 of the Grampians. But above tliem runs a level band 

 of chalk, encircling Knocklayd, with, above that again, 

 up to the summit, 1700 feet above the sea, the brown- 

 black basalts that ai'e so fsuniliar throughout Antrim 

 and the western isles of Scotland. 



Tlie " white limestone," or chalk, is a relic of the 

 material tJiat once stretched across the country, 

 deposited as fine ooze by the organisms of the Cretaceous 

 sea. The sea-floor was raised by the mysterious and 

 reciu'riug earth-movements ; the chalk became attacked 

 by rain and rivers, and was converted into grassy downs, 

 such as we see to-day in south-east England. Then, in 

 what .are called Eocene times, volcanoes broke out all 

 across the area ; * stream after stream of lava was 

 poui-ed over the blackened downs, filling up the 

 hollows, choking the valleys, and finally burying the 

 older features in continuous sheets of basalt. In our 

 own times, these sheets have given rise to the high 

 plateaux of the north, just as they fonn the tablelands 

 of Trotternish in Skyc and of the west of Mull, inter- 

 sected here and there by ravines and valle3-s, into which 

 their dehria are swept down. Knocklayd is an outlying 

 mass, cut off from the main plateau.x by denudation, 

 and fonns a fitting introduction to the story of Fair 

 Head itself. 



Wo leave the blown sand that gathers in Ballycastle 

 Bay, and before us rises the long wall of cliffs, cul- 

 minating in the sharply defined crest of Benmore, a 

 columnar fa.9ade erected, as it were, by titans. Yellow 

 and grey sandstones, cut here and there by dykes of 

 basalt, flank our route at first; and then we come 

 unexpectedly on a little coal-mine, bun'owing into the 

 face of the cliff, and bringing out its black heaps against 

 the road. We have here, in fact, the same strata, low 

 down in the Carboniferous system, as those in which 

 coal is successfully worked near Edinburgh. Further 

 on, where the road becomes a mere track, climbing 

 above slopes of grass, we find the yellow sandstone 

 worked in a higli quarry, from which the crane lowers 

 the blocks for shipment at a tremulous pier. It is odd 

 to note here the coal-seams exposed upon the natural 

 surface of the cliff, and showering down their black 

 detritus on the pathway. On our left, across five miles 

 of gleaming water, Rathlin Island smiles in sunlight, 

 its strip of chalk capped by a basalt layer, a mass 

 detached from Antrim by the wash of waters round it. 



It was my fortune thus to view it on the thii'd of 

 January in the present year, one of those fresh and 

 brilliant days that are far more common in a highland 

 winter than we realise among the fogs of towns. There 

 certainly was nothing to suggest the bitter tragedies of 

 1575, the slaughter of enfeebled Scots up and down 

 the plateaux, the relentless hunting of women and 

 children through all the white caverns on the shore. 



And now the path rises further, up the side of a 

 waterfall, which comes leaping down the flank of Sron- 

 bane, a projection perhaps named from its contrast with 

 the sterner mass beyond. The foot-track is for us no 

 longer; we must take to the slopes of grass, and trust 

 to oiu' wits to bring us round. 



Half-a^mile further, the fii-st blocks of basalt cumber 

 the ground; above us we see the sandstones seamed 

 with horizontal sheets of lava, wliich have worked tlieir 

 way in between them, baking them as they went. These 



• ffee "Volcanoes of the North," Knowledge, Vol. XXI. (1898) 

 p. -'G6. 



arc tho offshoots of the great volcanic knot of Fair 

 Head, a huge intrusion of molten matter, now cold and 

 cryst.;illine, which forced its way in among tho older 

 rocks during the eart.h-slorin that, once raged in 

 Antrim. Those who know Stafl'a or tho Giant's 

 Causeway will recognise the volcanic rocks above us 

 now. The sheets have shrunk on cooling, iiavc cracked 

 transversely, and a range of columns results, giving to 

 the cliff-face the likeness of a gigantic organ. We soon 

 see that this columnar structure, becoming more coarse 

 and bold in Benmore itself, is responsible for tlic 

 characteristic sheerness of the mass. The columns break 

 off along the joint-planes, and provide tlie formidable 

 blocks, clean in the side, sharp at the angles, which 

 are added yearly to the talus. 



And soon this manifold talus threatens us. Ilillierto 

 the sandstones have furnished us with ledges, on which 

 the grass gives foothold ; it has been easy to climb to 

 the base of tho cliff-wall, or to descend to the terraces 

 along the shore. But now, across the rivulet that falls 

 in cascades out of Lough Doo, the streams of stones 

 stretch down seaward, bai-e and continuous, from tho 

 crag. Each has to be crossed with forethought; a 

 gi-assy interlude may or may not lie beyond it; it is 

 certain that another stone-stream will appear to bai- tho 

 way, hidden by the one with which wo are immediately 

 concerned. Some of the individual blocks are large 

 enough to be identified miles away. Thus the pro- 

 jecting masses, heaped on one another below Lough 

 Doo, four or five together, form a group which is 

 descried from Ballycastle. 



A stout stick without a ferrule, which will not slip 

 when the weight is thrown on it, serves one well amid 

 this scene of desolation. The camera is strapped firmly 

 on the back, the geological hammer is thiaist into the 

 collecting-bag, only to be produced when wanted; for 

 the two hands are here as useful as the feet. A 

 good walker has twice rounded Fair Head in a 

 day, jumping from block to block. For the ordinary 

 person — and he should be one who knows something 

 about taluses — I would say, neither begin to jump, nor 

 hesitate at any point too long. The experience gained 

 on ordinai-y " screes," where one can thrust a long stick 

 against the slope above one, and ascend the more stable 

 blocks as on a staircase, avails one little on Fair Head. 

 The walk is an almost continuous scramble, and it 

 seems a matter of chance whether one succeeds or fails. 

 Two men together should be almost certain to succeed. 

 One man alone may find it more discreet and business- 

 like to fail. 



Though the whole crag rises only 636 feet above the 

 sea, the sense of gloom, of voiceless walls of rock, of 

 absolute and naked savagery, soon becomes impressive 

 and supreme. The cliff above is unnotched throughout 

 a ban-en mile, a mile that may occupy an expert for 

 an hour, a cautious walker for two or more. Once 

 round the northern angle, the view widens, and Scotland 

 grows clear across the sea. The high masses on Kintyre 

 loom up near at hand ; Islay lies out there to wcstwaid ; 

 and between them, pink with haze, or just caught by a 

 wisp of sunny cloud, we may see the Paps of Jura, and 

 the long ridge stretching up to Lome. 



A startled gull wheels up ciying fiom IjcIovv us; 

 above us towers the impregnable fortress, steel-grey, 

 gloomy, and impenetrable, the blocks over which we 

 scramble seem rarely less than ten feet long; they ai-e 

 sometimes as large as a cottage, set obliquely or on 

 end. Between them, the interspaces would easily admit 



