; the sea dashes, in
higher and higher waves, on the narrowing beach. Rain and mist are both
gone. Overhead, the clouds are falling asunder in every direction,
assuming strange momentary shapes, quaint airy resemblances of the forms
of the great rocks among which we stand. Height after height along the
distant cliffs dawns on us gently; great golden rays shoot down over
them; far out on the ocean, the waters flash into a streak of fire; the
sails of ships passing there, glitter bright; yet a moment more, and the
glorious sunlight bursts out over the whole view. The sea changes soon
from dull grey to bright blue, embroidered thickly with golden specks,
as it rolls and rushes and dances in the wind. The sand at our feet
grows brighter and purer to the eye; the sea-birds flying and swooping
above us, look like flashes of white light against the blue firmament;
and, most beautiful of all, the wet serpentine rocks now shine forth in
full splendour beneath the sun; every one of their exquisite varieties
of colour becomes plainly visible--silver grey and bright yellow, dark
red, deep brown, and malachite green appear, here combined in thin
intertwined streaks, there outspread in separate irregular
patches--glorious ornaments of the sea-shore, fashioned by no human
art!--Nature's own home-made jewellery, which the wear of centuries has
failed to tarnish, and the rage of tempests has been powerless to
destroy!

But the hour wanes while we stand and admire; the surf dashes nearer and
nearer to our feet; soon, the sea will cover the sand, and rush swiftly
into the caves where we have slowly crawled. Already the Devil's Bellows
is at work--the jets of spray spout forth from it with a roar. The sea
thunders louder and louder in the Devil's Throat--we must gain the
cliffs while we have yet time. The guide takes his leave; my companion
unwillingly closes his sketch-book; and we slowly ascend on our inland
way together--looking back often and often, with no feigned regret, on
all that we are leaving behind us at KYNANCE COVE.

VII.

THE PILCHARD FISHERY.

If it so happened that a stranger in Cornwall went out to take his first
walk along the cliffs towards the south of the county, in the month of
August, that stranger could not advance far in any direction without
witnessing what would strike him as a very singular and alarming
phenomenon.

He would see a man standing on the extreme edge of a precipice, just
over the sea