The Argosy — page 68: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

58 On Board the *‘ Batavia.” The day went on to evening, and when we went down to dinner, the hilly country surrounding Gibraltar was lying about us. Gibraltar itself was not in sight. It is hidden round a point of land, and when you first see it you are almost upon it: within, perhaps, an hour’s steaming. It is so generally the case that the most interesting part of a voyage happens at the luncheon or dinner hour. And a first view of Gibraltar is most interesting and imposing. - You feel that it is an impregnable stronghold, and remember, with some degree of pride, that it belongs to England. It really takes somewhat the form of a sleeping lion, as if from the first its destiny in the history of nations had been decided. When we went up on deck, it was in full view. We were rapidly approaching it. With what different emotions I had last seen the rock! Then we were advancing in all the pomp and dignity of the Reserve Squadron. Now we were in the quietness and humi- lity of a P. and O. steamer. Moreover, we should really see nothing of all its grand points. Mauleverer, who had never happened to land there, but had posted himself up for the occasion, was full of the caves and galleries ; of the Romance of O’Hara’s Tower at the summit of its giddy and conical height ; of the terrific and perpendicular peaks showing a bold, impregnable front to Spain on the one side and Africa on the other : on the one hand beholding the hill known as the Queen of Spain’s Chair, because the wife of Philip V. sat there to see the Spanish troops retake the fortress—and sat in vain; on the other hand the African range, with Mount Atlas snow crowned in their midst. He wanted to claim acquaintance with the wonderful ride to the cork woods, and the charming views and winding beauties of Windmill Hill-road, where you catch lovely glimpses of the town of Gibraltar sleeping below in its furnace-like atmosphere, the calm, deep blue waters of the bay separating it from the fair Andalusian hills beyond. He knew of the little fishing settlement of Catalan Bay, whose in- habitants are descended from an Italian crew shipwrecked here in days gone by ; and who in consequence speak a language that is neither Spanish nor Italian, but a mixture of both. He wished to climb the Old Mole, or Devil’s Tongue, as it is called, though I have vainly endeavoured to trace the origin of the curious title. Above all, the summit of his ambition was Jacob’s Ladder and the Signal Tower, with its mysterious and inexhaustible supplies of Shandy Gaff: that Tower, which commands the wide waters of the Mediterranean on the one side, and those of the Bay of Biscay on the other. All these I had seen on a former visit, and Mauleverer wished to become as wise as I; but the fates were against him, and he saw none of them. It was galling to think that the monkeys might be there in full array, scrambling and chattering about the rocks, playing at hide and seek, visible to anyone who had cat’s eyes and the time COMIC OOOKS.CO