es
and leagues of iron cliffs towering far higher than any others in the
west, and point after point of noble jagged promontories, past
Boscastle, set back a little out of sight, past Bude and Cambeak, and
rugged Morwenstow, till it rests at last on the dim line of Hartland
Point, full 40 miles away as a bird would fly. It is idle to compare
any other view in the West Country with this either in extent or
grandeur, or in the immediate beauty of its surroundings. It is little
known, and rarely visited by any but by shepherds. Yet it is more easy
of access from Wadebridge than the Land's End or the Logan from
Penzance; and there will be some to whom its very loneliness is an
additional attraction. However this may be, those who leave Cornwall
without visiting Pentire have missed its noblest scenery."

[Illustration: PORT ISAAC.

_Photo by Gibson & Sons._]

It is a large claim that Mr. Norway makes, but surely it is justified.
The parts of Cornwall that are best known are naturally those that
come within range of the more popular resorts--Newquay, Bude,
Penzance, St. Ives, Falmouth--while eastern Cornwall is accessible
from Plymouth. But this stretch of coast is near no popular centre,
and, with the exception of Tintagel and Boscastle, it remains
neglected. If Padstow or Polzeath, Portquin or Port Isaac, ever become
more popular, visitors will flock to these grand cliffs and marvel
that they never came here before. There is a remarkable triple
entrenchment on the eastern Horn of Pentire, above its stark, rugged
caverns; but those who came here and fortified this noble headland, in
far-back days of which we can only dream, came not in search of the
picturesque as we do, nor probably for the spiritual repose that we
crave in this age of hurry. Even sterner necessities governed their
existence. Cliff-camps of this nature cannot have been designed
against any foe from the sea--even to-day it would be a perilous thing
indeed to attempt a forcible landing at such places--they were more
likely a last refuge from invading tribes that came overland from the
south-east. The struggles witnessed here must almost certainly have
been far earlier than the coming of Roman or Teuton; it was probably
successive waves, or antagonist tribes, of Stone Age men that here
contended and opposed each other. But the ditches and embankments have
little to tell us; tradition is silent, the lonely barrows are dumb.
Yet the blood of the peoples stil