232 HILLSIDE, ROCK, AND DALE 



sung in many places, but never have I heard it sung 

 so well as that fisherman sang it. The musician 

 who played the concertina had, I think, gone to get 

 further refreshment, for he luckily did not accompany 

 this song. With a fine tenor voice the fisherman 

 struck up 



" I have heard the Mavis singing 

 His love-song to the morn," etc. 



He received a well-deserved but rough encore, 

 and sang the same song again, and one was struck 

 with the fineness of his voice. At length the concert 

 ended broken up by the local policeman, much to 

 the disgust of those present. The "gentleman in 

 blue " was a new hand, and did not know the ways 

 of the natives, and, to judge by the expressions 

 which were hurled at him, I felt that he was in an 

 uncomfortable situation while doing his duty. 



We started along the rough, jagged coast to search 

 for the rock doves' haunt, and after slow and difficult 

 progress, over rocks which were as treacherous as 

 any I have met with, we felt that the caves could 

 not be much further on. A short distance ahead 

 there were some winkle gatherers searching among 

 the pools, and on inquiring how far a certain cave 

 was, we were told that it was " twa miles and a 

 bittock." Well, we went the "twa," but the 

 " bittock " beat us. I do not know what a " bittock " 



