THE CLIFFS AT SUNRISE n 



were flitting from spray to spray on the furze-banks ; 

 butcher-birds and wheatears hovered in the cliff ; and, 

 strange to say, a large flock of sparrows had flown 

 down from the cornfields in which they had been 

 stealing wheat since daybreak, and were drinking and 

 washing, with an immense amount of loud and vulgar 

 conversation, where a stream of sweet water broke out 

 at the foot of the cliffs, and trickled down through the 

 sand to the sea. To descend the steep path of yellow 

 clay it was necessary to doff boots and walk in " stock- 

 ing feet " ; for the boot-soles, drenched with dew, 

 slipped on the clay as if on a surface of oiled and 

 polished metal. The quiet bay was scored and furrowed 

 by the violence of a great thunderstorm which had 

 flooded towns and fields in the last week of August. 

 A mass of water had collected in the hollow of a narrow 

 valley above, and poured like a bursting reservoir over 

 the cliff, cutting a channel 10 ft. deep and 30 ft. wide 

 through 'the shingle banks, and laying bare the rocks 

 and boulders buried deep below. The shingle was 

 cleared away as if by hand, and pure water was still 

 running over the smooth grey beds of shale below. 

 Beyond the channel the shingle was spread fan- 

 wise for a space of 60 yards, abutting on the sand 

 beyond. On this sand, for many yards above the 

 salt margin of the breakers, the surface was covered 

 with neat round pits, the size of a penny. They 

 were filled with water, and in the centre of each 

 was a small round channel sunk, probably the shaft 

 leading to the shell-mouth of a buried razor-fish. 



