of the arch where the afternoon sun pours its brightness
the waves have cut other arches not visible in the picture. When the
arches become too many or too wide the natural bridge will fall and be
carried out to sea like many another.

[Illustration: A Natural Bridge, Santa Cruz, Cal.]

But what does the sea do with the harder parts of the cliff? Its waves
wear away the rock on each side and leave one or more long fingers
reaching out into the sea. The wear and tear on such a projection is
immense. A strong swimmer may play with the breakers away from the
cliff. At exactly the right moment he may dive headlong through the
pearly green Niagara that has not yet fallen quite to his head and may
sport in the comparatively quiet water beyond, while the wild ruin
falls with a sound of thunder on the beach. But let him once be caught
and dashed against the rocks and there is no more life or wholeness of
bones within him.

In the swirl of converging currents between two rocky projections, as
the coarse sand and gravel is surged around a few hundred thousand
times, there is a great tendency to wear through the wall of the
projecting finger. It is often done. Illustration No. 4 shows at low
tide such a projection cut through. Since the picture was taken the
bridge has fallen, the detritus been carted away by the waves, and the
pier stands lonely in the sea.

[Illustration: An Excavated Arch, Santa Cruz, Cal.]

No. 5 shows one bridge exceedingly frail and another more substantial
nearer the famous Cliff Drive. I go to the frail one every year with
anxiety lest I shall find it has been carried away. How I wish I could
show my readers the delicate sculpture and carving further back, nearer
yet to the drive. But note the various strata, the rocks worn to a
point as even the milder waves run over them; note the cracks that tell
of the awful push and stress of the titanic struggle.

[Illustration: A Double Natural Arch, Santa Cruz, Cal.]

Illustration No. 6 shows three such under-hewn arches. The long
projection of rock is so curved as to prevent the arches being fully
seen in any one view. I have waded and swam through these rocky
vistas, and there, where any more than moderate waves would have
mangled me against the tusks of the cruel rocks, I have found little
specimens of aquatic life by the millions, clinging fast to the rocks
that were home to them and protecting themselves by taking lime out of
the water a