A FISHING "TOUN." 315 



from Arbroath, one along the sea^coast, the other through the 

 country. The distance is about 3^ miles in a north-east 

 direction, and the country road is the best ; and approaching 

 the village in that direction it has a very fair aspect. Two rows 

 of low-buUt slate-roofed houses, and a school and chapel, stand a 

 few yards off by themselves. On the north side of the village 

 is a stately farm-house, surrounded by trees, and on the south 

 side a Coast-Guard station, clean, whitewashed, and with a flag- 

 staff, giving the whole a regular and picturesque appearance. 

 Entering the village of Auchmithie from the west, and walking 

 through to the extreme east end, the imagination gets staggered 

 to think how any class of men could have selected such a wild 

 and rugged part of the coast for pursuing the fishing trade — a 

 trade above all others that requires a safe harbour where boats 

 can be launched and put to sea at a moment's warning if any 

 signals of distress be given. The bight of Auchmithie is an 

 indentation into rocky cliffs several hundred feet in perpendicular 

 height. About the middle of the bight there is a steep ravine 

 or gully with a small stream, and at the bottom of this ravine 

 there is a small piece of level ground where a fish-curing house 

 is erected, and where also the fishermen pull up their boats, that 

 they may be safe from easterly gales. There are in all about 

 seventeen boats' crews at Auchmithie. Winding roads with 

 steps lead down the side of the steep brae to the beach. There 

 are a few half-tide rocks in the bight that may help to break 

 the fury of waves raised Ijy easterly winds; but there is no 

 harbour or pier for the boats to land at or receive shelter from, 

 and this the fishermen complain of, as they have to pay £2 

 a year for the privilege of each boat. The beach is steep, and 

 strewed with large pebbles, excellently adapted, they say, for 

 drying fish upon. 



The visitor, in addition to studying" the quaint people, 

 may explore one of the vast caves which only a few years ago 

 were the nightly refuge of the smuggler. Brandy Cove and 

 Gaylet Pot are worth inspection, and inspire a mingled feeling 

 of terror and grandeur. The visitor may also take a look at 

 the " Spindle " — a large detached piece of the cliffs, shaped 

 something like a corn-stack, or a boy's top with the apex 

 uppermost. When the tide is full this rock is surrounded 

 with water, and appears like an island. Fisher-life may.be 

 witnessed here in all its unvarnished simplicity. Indeed 

 nothing could well be more primitive than their habits and 



