42 THE LAND'S END 



apple of his own growing and sit in the shade, he 

 must build a wall eight or ten feet high to protect 

 them from the salt blast, and he may then die of old 

 age before the apple is ripe or the shade created. 

 Nor can he grow a hedge : the furze, it is true, 

 abounds everywhere, but it is a most intractable plant 

 that will go (or grow) its own wild way, and no man 

 has yet subdued it to his will and made it serve as a 

 hedge. Yet even in this wind-vexed land a few self- 

 planted trees may be seen. 



You find them in the strip of farm country between 

 the hills and sea, in hollows and under high banks, or 

 where a mass of rock affords them shelter ; and they 

 are mostly hawthorns and blackthorns with a few 

 hardy bush-like trees of other kinds. They are like 

 the trees and bushes on the most exposed coasts in 

 Yorkshire and in other places, growing all one way, 

 lying close to and sometimes actually on the ground, 

 stretching out their branches and every twig towards 

 the inland country. The sight of these wind- 

 tormented, one-sided trees fascinates me and I stay 



long to look at them. 



A bristled tree 

 With branches cedared by the salten gale, 



Stretched back, as if with wings that cannot flee, 



is how Gordon Hake describes the appearance, seeing, 

 as I do, the desire and struggle to escape to fly from 

 that pitiless persecution. But the "wings" I do not 

 see : in summer the foliage is to my sight but a ragged 

 mantle ; in winter the human expression is strongest 

 and most pathetic. Held by the feet in the grip of 



