304 THE LAND'S END 



because the place held me month after month, and the 

 old habit of taking notes, or stick-gathering, even when 

 the sticks are of no more use than the vast store of 

 stolen objects ^/hich my friend's pet white rat, who 

 has the run of a big house, is accustomed to accumu- 

 late, the material grew on my hands, until in the end 

 I determined to put the best of it in a volume. In that 

 way the book and every chapter grew. One chapter, 

 headed " Bolerium ", contained my impressions of 

 the famous headland itself, and having written it 1 

 imagined there would be no more for me to say on 

 that subject. Nevertheless, I continued to haunt the 

 spot ; familiarity had not lessened its fascination, and 

 there, by chance, one day in spring, I witnessed a 

 scene which suggested, or perhaps I should say com- 

 pelled me to write, this additional chapter as a con- 

 clusion to the book. 



There were days at the headland when I observed 

 a goodish number of elderly men among the pilgrims, 

 some very old, and this at first surprised me, but 

 by and by it began to seem only natural. I was par- 

 ticularly impressed one day at noon in early spring in 

 clear but cold weather with a biting north-east wind, 

 when I found six or seven aged men sitting about on 

 the rocks that lie scattered over the green slope be- 

 hind the famous promontory. They were too old or 

 too feeble to venture down on the rough headland : 

 their companions had strayed away, some to the 

 fishing cove, others along the higher cliffs, and left 

 them there to rest. They were in great-coats with 

 scarves and comforters round their necks, and hats or 



