A mile further on, and Cuckmere Haven is in sight. Not much of a haven, however, especially in summer-time. The sand has silted up and raised the bed of the river some feet above the level of the Channel. During the neap tides there is not enough water in the river to enable it to reach the sea, so there it lies after all its efforts, lost at last in ugly lagunes.
The descent is sharp, and we soon find ourselves wandering along a grassy ridge by the side of the river. A large flock of gulls disporting themselves a little higher up, perceiving the approach of a moving figure, rise rapidly, hover for a while overhead, and then suddenly disappear into space like a troop of ghosts.
Even in these days of railways and telegraphs and Sunday excursionists, an old-world peace lingers about such valleys as these. The lap of the ocean, the cry of the sea-bird, the occasional low of oxen, the continual bleating of sheep,—these are the only sounds which break its repose. The soft green hills undulate on either side, and terminate much the same in outline, altogether the same in effect as they did when a thousand years ago King Alfred met Asser, the learned monk, in the valley that runs up from Birling Gap. Few are the habitations of men. You may walk for a mile, and not see the smallest cot, much less a farmhouse; but when you do,come across the latter, how suggestive of cosy comfort! Embosomed in trees, the farm buildings stand in a cluster, apparently in no order; house, stables, barns, all with white walls and high gable roofs, the said roofs being of that warm red grey, covered with lichen, only properly describable with brush and palette.
How hidden and lost to all human ken are the tiny villages which lie amongst these downs! Why, here, within a mile, the coastguard did not seem to know where West Dean was; and no doubt many a traveller has passed up this valley within a few hundred yards of it, and never dreamt of its existence. Mount the hill at the foot of which stands the little farm of Except, and when you reach its summit you will see, nestling down in the grassy hollow on the other side, a little village, evidently all one community. There is the great house of the squire, the less pretentious one of his bailiff; there are the farm buildings, together
