The Argosy — page 400: what you’re looking at

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

The Channel Islands. 377 That night walk to the Creux Harbour to reconnoitre the little market boat was only one of many. Especially I remember one more than usually boisterous evening, when nothing would move H. from his chimney-corner, and I wandered alone down to Dixcart Bay. The scene was utterly desolate ; no sight of creature and no sound of life. The moonlit valley was grandeur itself. Thesea broke against the rocks with a noise of thunder. A few steps more and there was the little beach, and the pebbles and stones were crunching beneath one’s feet. Immense waves swept in and broke upon the shore with tremendous force. They dashed up the rocks, until the very earth seemed to vibrate with the shock, swirled over the “ Giant’s Leg,” and poured through the arch with a hissing roar, whilst showers of spray i > " ‘f> J oe ah nd we P jes ; ,.4 \ itu . \ oy i wut Ly ; tidy AN jv 7 A a ‘ lat PAP] NY YHA we NG I ite Wh Uy AM v') ! A) /* PUY E oe | e.@* 4 y ‘ rn é ‘ { | eat) . -3 . === <s~ =" > - OuR ‘‘ LITTLE GATE,” seemed to reach to the very table-land of the island. The whole sea, lighted up by the moon, was a restless, surging waste, and the waves died out in masses of foam, white as driven snow. On and on crept the tide, with rapid strides, swishing over the stones, until at last the shore was covered, and one had to beat a retreat. Within the territory of the inn, the funny old goat, perched on its bit of rock, looked for a moment at the solitary wayfarer, and then, as if recognizing a friend, jumped down with plaintive bleat, and came the length of its tether to have its head rubbed, and to protest against being left the long lone night a prey to these raging elements. But our excursions by day, with Philip de Carteret for our guide, charmed us most. He knew every inch of the island, and by paths invisible to the uninitiated would take us up and down rocks and cliffs that seemed impregnable. Sark is famous for its caves, and VOL. XXXVII, BB CONNIE OO KSneO