6 THE SOUTHERN CLIFFS 



tection of the Red Cliff had been abandoned, was 

 sitting, apparently half-asleep, on a ledge of chalk 

 about 100 ft. above the sea. It is not often that the 

 chance comes of watching a wild raven at close quar- 

 ters. It sat quietly in a sort of niche in the chalk, 

 its head and beak in a line with the body, until our 

 movements caused it to look back over its shoulder. 

 Still it did not move. A gull then walked round the 

 corner of the cliff, and black and white met face to 

 face. The great size of the raven was then shown, as 

 each bird sat looking at the other. Like most of the 

 crow-tribe, the raven seems very drowsy in the late 

 evening, and disinclined to move. When at last the 

 bird became uneasy, it walked along a kind of covered 

 way cut in the chalk, out on to a grassy slope, then 

 poised, and swung flapping out over the sea, with 

 loud, hoarse croaks. There it was joined by the two 

 old birds, and all three went through those curious 

 aerial gymnastics which ravens delight in, tumbling and 

 taking "headers" in the air, like tumbler-pigeons. 

 Otherwise, the flight of the raven is more like that of a 

 gigantic jackdaw than of a rook or carrion-crow. But 

 its voice and great size easily distinguish it from all 

 other birds. 



Where the broken rocks lay piled highest at the foot 

 of the crag, we landed on one to gather samphire, and 

 then turned our eyes from the dazzle of the chalk 

 to the dark, translucent water at its foot. We were 

 floating high above a luxuriant sea-garden, full of a 

 rich and tangled growth of sea-ferns and sea-mosses, 



