THE END OF ALL THE LAND 51 



ing a view of the coastline for some distance, one 

 may count a dozen or more of these headlands thrust 

 out aslant like stupendous half-ruined buttresses sup- 

 porting the granite walls of the cliff. They are of a 

 sullen brown colour and rough harsh aspect, and in 

 places have the appearance of being built up of huge 

 square blocks of granite, and at other points they 

 form stacks of columns as at the Giant's Causeway. 

 The summits of these headlands are often high, 

 resembling ruinous castles placed on projecting points 

 of the cliff; they are confused masses of rocks of 

 many shapes, piled loosely one upon the other, their 

 exposed surfaces clothed over with long coarse grey 

 lichen. Large gulls, daws and cormorants sit or 

 stand here and there on the ledges and prominent 

 points, the herring gulls clamorous at the sight of a 

 human form ; the restive daws quitting their stands 

 to wheel about at intervals, rising and falling, soon to 

 settle down again ; the cormorants silent and motion- 

 less, standing erect with curved, snaky necks, like 

 birds carved in ebony. 



Stealing quietly among these hoary masses of rock 

 you may see a very wild rabbit, and on a bright, still, 

 winter day, if you are singularly fortunate, you may 

 catch sight of a beast better worth seeing, a cliff fox, 

 lying fast asleep or lightly dozing, stretched at full 

 length on a ledge, looking intensely red in the sun- 

 shine, and very conspicuous against the hoary lichened 

 rock. This is his home and castle, which he shares 

 with the rabbits that know his ways, and the birds 

 that are always just out of his reach. Thus do they 





