52 THE LAND'S END 



live together in one house like one antagonistic family 

 in a strange artificial harmony, and do not mix, but 

 come and go and move about freely, and bask in the 

 warm sunshine, and sit up to rub their long ears and 

 whiskers, and spread out their wings to dry, and preen 

 their feathers. Peace and quiet in their castle, while 

 the great waves roll in to beat on its caverned walls 

 beneath, making the earth tremble with their measured 

 blows, covering the black rocks with dazzling white 

 foam, and sending up a mist of spray to the summit. 



At intervals between Bay and Bay, a distance of 

 thirty miles, you come upon headlands of this type 

 Cape Cornwall, Gurnard's Head, Zennor Cliffs and 

 others, to the north of Land's End, while just south 

 of it you have the noblest rock scenery of this coast, 

 including the stupendous cliffs of Tol-Pedn-Penwith 

 and Treryn Dinas, with its famed Logan Stone. 

 Bolerium itself, the narrow promontory of piled 

 rocks of the Land's End and the flat bit of country 

 adjoining it is, sentiment apart, one of the least in- 

 teresting points on the coast. 



But the sentiment is a very great thing and in- 

 teresting to observe. And this is easy, since the 

 pilgrims mostly come by way of Penzance, distant 

 about a dozen miles, travelling in batches of twenty- 

 five or thirty or more, packed closely in some public 

 conveyance ; so that one has but to join the crowd 

 and, sitting among them, watch their faces out of the 

 corners of his eyes. They are a mixed company of 

 men and women of all conditions, from all parts of 

 the country, with some Americans and Colonials. It 



