Part 2

“This,” said Mr. Miller, “is not a beetle, but an egg.”

Henry had seen thrushes’ eggs, and eaten hens’ eggs, but they were so unlike this black leather bag that he thought his papa must be joking.

“Not the egg of a bird, but of a fish. As we came through the market to-day, I showed you some flat and very ugly fishes, with eyes and mouth something like those of a human being, and with a long tail like that of a quadruped.”

Henry remembered to have seen them, and that they were called skates. “And is this the egg of a skate?”

Not exactly the egg, but the egg-shell. There was once a yelk in it, something like that in a hen’s egg. Out of this yelk a young skate grew, and when it was large enough it forced its way out through this end.

Mr. Miller pinched one end of the egg-shell, or purse, as it is called, between his finger and thumb, holding it as one would a letter which one wanted to read without breaking the seal, and the end of the purse opened.

“And did it float about in the water while the young fish was growing, or was it laid on the beach?”

“Neither: if it had been left to float about in the water, it would soon have been eaten by gulls, or driven ashore; and how can fishes lay their eggs on the land? No, it was left by the fish among the weed which grows at the bottom of the sea, and the hooked horns held on by the stem of one of them, until the fish had escaped. The late storm, I suppose, tore it away from the weeds and washed it ashore. I have found them with a yelk in them, but this rarely happens.”

“But, papa, you said that there were weeds in the sea; are they like the weeds in gardens?”

Mr. Miller pointed to the rocks, some of which were covered with long bunches of tangled stems of a dark-brown or green colour, which he said were sea-weeds. Some stout stems were also lying about the shore, like horse-whips, with a bunch of roots at one end, and a tuft of leathery straps at the other. This, too, was a sea-weed. He reminded him, too, of a book which he had seen at home, filled with crimson, purple, green, and brown leaves, which he said were also sea-weeds. They do not send their roots into the ground like garden weeds, but cling to the rocks or to each other, and are nourished by the water in which they grow.

The purse of the skate was secured, to be carried home as a prize, and a stem of a large sea-weed was soon made into a whip.

The next curious thing picked up was a piece of stone, so full of holes as to resemble a piece of honeycomb, except that the holes were round and not regularly placed.

“This,” said Mr. Miller, “is a piece of limestone, which once formed a part of one of the rocks jutting into the sea. The holes were made by shell-fish, but whether made for shelter, or because the animals within feed on the lime, I cannot say. It is very clear that this piece has been washing about for a very long time, as it is worn smooth by being battered against other stones. We must call these shell-fish both useful and mischievous animals. Here they are certainly useful, for they eat away parts of the rock until they are not able to bear the force of the waves, when they break away and are driven on to the beach. I dare say that a great many years ago the rocks about this place were much higher than they are now, and were in the way of boats sailing to and fro. But when the little animals choose to make their houses in quays or sea-walls, they do much mischief by eating away the foundations.

“I once came here when the water was low, and as I stepped from rock to rock I broke off several pieces with my foot. The animals were then in them and alive. They are about the size and shape of a horse-bean; they have, like oysters, two shells, which are rough, and of a dull yellow colour. There is another kind of shell-fish, larger than this, which burrows in rocks, named pholas.”

This was the last curiosity picked up to-day; but before they left the shore, Mr. Miller went to a cave, in which he recollected to have seen, a long time before, some plants of sea-fern growing on the roof. They were too high to be reached; but as he was a great admirer of ferns, and this kind grew only on the sea-shore, he did not like to miss a chance of seeing them again. To his great joy, the late storm, which had done so much damage to the shipping, had washed away one of the sides of the cave, and a large mass of stone had fallen just beneath the very place where the ferns grew. He mounted on this, and with the help of a knife, loosened some small stones around the roots of the ferns, and so took out some fine plants, roots and all. What was done with these you shall hear by and by.

The next day was rainy, but on the day following the sun shone brightly, and there was every prospect of some fine weather. “The tide does not suit well,” said Mr. Miller, “but as we may not have a chance of another day’s sunshine, I will hire a carriage, and we will go to a beautiful part of the coast, which is some miles distant, where you will be able to pick up shells, and have a much wider view of the sea than that which we saw the day before yesterday.” Accordingly, a basket of provisions was packed up, and the carriage was very soon rolling merrily along.

On the way, Henry asked his papa what he meant by saying that “the tide did not suit.”

Mr. Miller explained to him that the water of the sea was not stagnant like that of a pond or a lake, nor did it always run one way like that of a river, but flowed in one direction for a little more than six hours, and in another during about the same time. “This motion of the water,” he said, “is called a tide. When the water is flowing towards the shore, the tide is said to be ‘coming in.’ All this time it is rising on the beach, and when it ceases to come in, we say that ‘it is high water.’ Soon after high water it begins to go out again, or ebb, and when it ceases to ebb we call it ‘low water.’ Now at the place where we are going, the shore is not made up of little pebbly beaches separated from each other by rocks jutting out, but long flat sands stretch for several miles. They are very pleasant to walk on when the tide is out, but it will be high water to-day just at the time when we reach the coast, so that I am afraid we shall not be able to have a very long walk on the sands, unless we wait some time. Never mind! we shall at least have a glorious view of the sea.”

It was past twelve o’clock, when, after mounting a steep hill, the driver was told to stop, and to be in waiting at the same place exactly at four.

The basket was taken out; and Mr. Miller and Henry, passing through a gate, found themselves in a large sloping field, partly covered by furze-bushes, and seeming to stretch downwards till it quite touched the sea. There were no high lands here on either side shutting in the view; nothing but a wide, wide waste of blue water, sparkling in the sunshine, and, where it touched the land, breaking into a wide edge of foam. The noise was incessant, sounding something like the rumbling of many carriages at a distance, now rising, and now falling, like the wind during a storm, and every now and then mixed with the thundering roar of some larger wave than usual as it rushed up the sands, or dashed against a rock.

Henry, in great delight, set off at full speed down the field, expecting to reach the shore at once; but his race was soon ended, for he shortly found himself at the brink of a high cliff or precipice, the face of which was almost as steep as a wall. A narrow winding path was soon discovered cut through the rock, by the help of which they climbed down, and at last stood on the shore. The wind was blowing very freshly above, but here it was quite calm and mild. One might have thought the season to be spring, or even summer, for all signs of winter, such as mud, bare trees, and stunted grass, were left behind.

Close to the base of the cliff there were large stones which had fallen from above; but a few yards out there was nothing but fine sand, so dry and firm that, though the foot left a mark whereon it rested, and kicked up a little piece of sand whenever it was lifted, no walking could be more pleasant.

But it was not this which was noticed at first. The great sight was the enormous waves, which seemed to grow up out of the water a long way out, to rise higher and higher, and to rush on faster and faster, till, in their haste to reach the land, they fell forward, and, dashing into a sheet of foam, swept far up on the sand; then, growing weaker and weaker, they made one last sweep, and drew back as if afraid, but were driven on again by the new waves, which had formed themselves meanwhile.

Mr. Miller said that about every ninth wave was larger than the rest. Henry and he counted together; and though the eighth or tenth was sometimes the largest, they accounted for the mistake by supposing that they must either have missed one, or reckoned the same wave twice.

Many times, as a wave went back, they chased it as far as they could go without wetting their feet. The sand seemed to grow dry and hard the instant that the water left it, so that they could follow it very closely; but soon another great wave came roaring in, and they were obliged to scamper towards land as fast as their legs would carry them.

Once, while Henry was looking one way and running the other, he came against the front of a little rock which rose through the sand, and narrowly escaped a good ducking. Another time he stood on the top of a little rock which rose like an island through the sand, hoping that the water would surround him. For several minutes he waited very patiently, but the waves always stopped before they reached him. At last, just as he had grown tired, there came a ninth wave, which not only surrounded him, but rose so high as to dash against his legs. Whether he was frightened, or the water was too strong for him to stand against, I do not know, but he sprang off and ran towards the land, wet nearly up to his knees.

It was now high water; and as Henry belonged to that class of boys who like fresh air, exercise, and bread-and-butter, he gladly heard the proposal to find a good place where they might sit down to dinner. They had not to go far. Not a hundred yards off, a small stream came tumbling over the cliff among some large stones, and, after flowing for a short distance, sank into the sand before it reached the sea. Towards this they made their way, frequently picking up shells and other things which had been washed in by the waves, but throwing them all away again, because the basket in which they were to be stowed away had yet to be emptied.

A large stone, with a towel spread on it, was the table, and stones served as seats. The dinner consisted of some slices of cold tongue, and a hunch of bread. The stream supplied plenty of clear and cold water, and this was the only part of the feast of which much was left.