and forth, filling it with tumultuous foam, and then leaving its floor
of black pebbles bare and glistening. In this chasm there was once an
intersecting vein of softer stone, which the waves have gnawed away
piecemeal, while the granite walls remain entire on either side. How
sharply, and with what harsh clamor, does the sea rake hack the
pebbles, as it momentarily withdraws into its own depths! At
intervals, the floor of the chasm is left nearly dry; but anon, at the
outlet, two or three great waves are seen struggling to get in at
once; two hit the walls athwart, while one rushes straight through,
and all three thunder, as if with rage and triumph. They heap the
chasm with a snow-drift of foam and spray. While watching this scene,
I can never rid myself of the idea that a monster, endowed with life
and fierce energy, is striving to burst his way through the narrow
pass. And what a contrast, to look through the stormy chasm, and
catch a glimpse of the calm bright sea beyond!

Many interesting discoveries may be made among these broken cliffs.
Once, for example, I found a dead seal, which a recent tempest had
tossed into the nook of the rocks, where his shaggy carcass lay rolled
in a heap of eel-grass, as if the sea-monster sought to hide himself
from my eye. Another time, a shark seemed on the point of leaping
from the surf to swallow me; nor did I wholly without dread approach
near enough to ascertain that the man-eater had already met his own
death from some fisherman in the bay. In the same ramble, I
encountered a bird,--a large gray bird,--but whether a loon, or a wild
goose, or the identical albatross of the Ancient Mariner, was beyond
my ornithology to decide. It reposed so naturally on a bed of dry
sea-weed, with its head beside its wing, that I almost fancied it
alive, and trod softly lest it should suddenly spread its wings
skyward. But the sea-bird would soar among the clouds no more, nor