WICKEN FEN. 10g 
the Fen itself. .D—— entered one of the dykes (“‘lodes” the Fen people call 
them) to reach it, or, to be more accurate, a large portion of the dyke 
entered him, for the water, which seemed about three feet deep, rose to his 
mouth and over it, when he sank the same distance in the muddy slime at 
the bottom. The rest of us adopted milder methods, and crossed by a 
plank higher up, and then at length we had reached our destination. 
WICKEN FEN. 
Very different was the picture now before our eyes; the village seemed 
farther off than before, and, instead of a monotonous brown mass of reeds 
and osiers, we found numerous open spaces half under water, and studded 
with elegant wavy willow-bushes, clumps of bulrushes, and sweetly scented 
bundles of fresh-cut sedge. The surface of the Fen was varied; the whole 
was split up by narrow dykes or lodes of just such a width as to invite 
a jump, but with edges so rotten as to ensure a relapse. In parts the 
ground was dry and covered with long, waving grass; in others, you splashed 
through short sedge, where the water rose above the ankles at every step. 
