Jethou, I must premise, is about half a mile long by a quarter wide. It
rises steeply from the sea all round, except at the North end, where the
slope is somewhat gentle. It is a dome-shaped mass, rising at the summit
to a height of nearly three hundred feet. It may serve to give a good
idea of its form if I liken it to a huge dish cover (a Britannia metal
one, if you will, for it is crown property), as it is very symmetrical
when viewed from a distance. It is, in fact, a huge bosom-like hill,
around which three paths are cut; the first varying from fifty to a
hundred feet above the sea, the second averages one hundred and fifty
feet above high water, and another runs round perhaps fifty feet higher
still. These paths at certain points are connected by other paths, so
that one may readily get from one elevation to another, except where
the island is unusually steep, when zig-zag paths have to be negotiated.
In one part seven or eight zig-zags have to be walked to rise to an
elevation of about sixty or seventy feet, so steep is the south end of
the island. At the north-west rises a curious pyramidal mass of granite,
about one hundred and twenty feet above high water, called Creviçon,
which may be reached on foot at low tide or even quarter flood; but
after the tide once gets above the boulders it comes in like a mill
race, rising at times during certain winds as much as seven feet within
the hour; so that one may be cut off from the main island in a very few
minutes, as it would be madness to try and cross during a heavy sea,
whatever excellent swimming powers one might possess, as the rush of the
tide would sweep one away like a straw.

Strange to say, there is another of these vast piles of granite, but of
greater altitude and bulk, at the south end of the island, with just
such a race of water running between it and the mainland after the tide
turns. It is called La Fauconnaire, or the Falconry, and approaches two