brine, I entered the first of the gullies: a narrow, long, winding one,
with sides polished by the sea-wash, and the floor rising inwards. In
the dark interior I struck matches, able still to hear from outside the
ponderous spasmodic rush and jostle of the sea between the crags of the
reef, but now quite faintly. Here, I knew, I could meet only dead men,
but urged by some curiosity, I searched to the end, wading in the middle
through a three-feet depth of sea-weed twine: but there was no one; and
only belemnites and fossils in the chalk. I searched several to the
south of the headland, and then went northward past it toward another
opening and place of perched boats, called in the map North Landing:
where, even now, a distinct smell of fish, left by the old crabbers and
herring-fishers, was perceptible. A number of coves and bays opened as I
proceeded; a faded green turf comes down in curves at some parts on the
cliff-brows, like wings of a young soldier's hair, parted in the middle,
and plastered on his brow; isolated chalk-masses are numerous, obelisks,
top-heavy columns, bastions; at one point no less than eight headlands
stretched to the end of the world before me, each pierced by its arch,
Norman or Gothic, in whole or in half; and here again caves, in one of
which I found a carpet-bag stuffed with a wet pulp like bread, and,
stuck to the rock, a Turkish tarboosh; also, under a limestone quarry,
five dead asses: but no man. The east coast had evidently been shunned.
Finally, in the afternoon I reached Filey, very tired, and there slept.

* * * * *

I went onward by train-engine all along the coast to a region of
iron-ore, alum, and jet-excavations round Whitby and Middlesborough. By
by-ways near the small place of Goldsborough I got down to the shore at
Kettleness, and reached the middle of a bay in which is a cave called
the Hob-Hole, with excavations all around, none of great depth, made by