yo THE LAND'S END 



shoulders, watching the sea and the birds that live 

 in it ; and later, when April set the tiny bell of the 

 rock pipit tinkling, and the wheatear, hovering over 

 the crags, dropped his brief delicious warble, and when 

 the early delicate flowers touched the rocks and turf 

 with tender, brilliant colour, I was more enamoured 

 than ever of my lonely castle by the sea. Forced to 

 leave it I could but chew samphire and fill my pockets 

 with its clustered green finger-like leaves, so as to 

 have the wild flavour of that enchanting place as long 

 as possible in my mouth and its perfume about me. 



Now I wish only to relate an adventure which 

 befell me on that midwinter day on the occasion 

 of my first visit, when nothing happened and I saw 

 nothing particular except with the mind's eye, for 

 this was an adventure of the spirit. 



It was one of those perfect days when the sun 

 shines from an unclouded sky and the wind that 

 raves without ceasing at last falls asleep and the 

 whole world sleeps in the warm, brilliant light, 

 albeit with eyes wide open like a basking snake. I 

 was abroad early, and after wandering over a good 

 many miles of moor and climbing several hills I 

 arrived at my destination, tired and very hungry, 

 and the first thing I did was to lunch heartily on 

 bread and cheese and beer at the inn which you find 

 at a short distance from the promontory. Naturally 

 after my meal and an hour's scramble over the rough 

 rocks of the headland 1 felt disposed to take a good 

 rest before setting out on my return, and I soon 

 found a suitable spot a slab of stone lying with a 



