owing
that the cliffs on the shore have not, as usual, maintained an unbroken
front to the waves, but have been knocked about in wild confusion.
Groups of islands dot the cove; Steeple Rock rears its solitary pinnacle
aloft; the Lion Rock crouches near the southern verge. It is as wild a
place as can well be imagined, and at low water strips of sand connect
these rocks with the mainland, though the quickly-rising waters often
compel the visitor to run for it. At the water's edge, when the tide is
low, little wave-worn caverns are disclosed in the cliffs which are
known as the "Drawing-Room," the "Parlor," etc. On the smooth face of
the landward slope of one of the larger islands there are two orifices
looking like the slit of a letter-box. The upper is called the
"Post-Office," and the lower one the "Bellows." If you hold a sheet of
paper in the former a gust of air will suddenly suck it into the
aperture. Then if you look into the "Post-Office" to investigate its
secrets, a column of spray will as suddenly deluge you with a
first-class shower-bath. This is on Asparagus Island, and by climbing to
the top of the rock the mystery is solved. The rock is almost severed by
a fissure opening towards the sea: a wave surges in and spurts from the
orifices on the landward side, then recedes and sucks the air back
through them. From the cove at Kynance down to the extremity of the
Lizard the scenery is everywhere fine. Here is the southernmost
extremity of England, there being three headlands jutting into the sea
near one another, the westernmost being the Old Lizard Head. Upon the
middle one are the lighthouses that warn the mariner. Black cliffs
above, and a sea studded with reefs below, give this place a forbidding
aspect. One of the reefs is known as "Man-of-War Rock," from the wreck
of a vessel there, and the weapons cast upon the neighboring shore gave
it the name of the "Pistol Meadow." The other headland supports a
telegraph-station, and a submarine cable goes down into the sea, to
reappear again upon the distant shores of Portugal. From here the
signals are sent that give notice of arriving ships. Beneath the cliffs
rises out of the sea that strange black crag, looking like a projecting
pulpit, which is known as the Bumble Rock. In the green sward above the
cliffs a yawning gulf opens its rocky mouth, and is called the Lion's
Den. It terminates in a rocky tunnel which communicates with the sea
through a natural archway. T