combat, its mighty curving crest white and seething with foam, hissing
like a serpent. On it comes, sweeping over half-submerged rocks,
growling in its fury, sublime in its towering majesty, awful in its
giant's strength.

Nearing the rocks, it seems to hang suspended for a moment, then hurls
itself as from a catapult against the barrier with a sound like
thunder, filling the cavern to its utmost, causing the ground to
fairly tremble with the impact, and sending the white spray high up
the face of the cliff, to be scattered like chaff before the breeze.
And the old rock that has stood the storms of ages, looks down at its
beaten and broken enemy, swirling, seething, and snarling at its
feet, and fairly laughs at its puny efforts.

[Illustration: SEA GULL ROCK]

Here we venture to a place that seems accessible in order to procure a
photograph. It was a foolhardy undertaking, and we knew it. But
fortune favored us, and the much-desired picture was secured. But thus
will men gamble with death to gratify a whim, for a false step or
sudden vertigo would have sent us crashing on to the jagged rocks
below.

Overhead the sea gulls beat the air on tireless wings, or skim close
to the water, intent upon their ceaseless search for food. Far out the
lighthouse stands anchored to the rocks, the waves dashing against it,
as if to tear it from its firm foundation. But it defies them all, and
sends the cheery beacon light over the waters, to guide the stately
ships between the portals of the Golden Gate.