DAYS IN DOVE DALE 75 



Watchbox and Tissington Spires until at 

 length we reached the Sharplow Cliff. 



There the major waded across to the Stafford- 

 shire side, whilst I was compelled to follow the 

 path and climb over the cliff, and an ugly climb 

 it is in the dark. 



It was now quite dark, and we could only 

 guess at each other's whereabouts by cooeying 

 after the Australian fashion, and whistling ; and 

 when we emerged on the open green, called 

 Sedgy Pool, we could not distinguish each other 

 across the river, for although the full, round 

 moon looked down upon us from the V-shaped 

 opening to this pleasant glade (formed by the 

 slanting sides of Thorpe Cloud on one side, 

 and The Hazels on the other, the moon occupy- 

 ing the upper centre of the V)> there was such 

 a heavy mist surrounding us that our figures 

 cast no -shadows. 



Still the major fished on, and ever and anon 

 I heard a loud flop and splash (for the fish 

 seemed to rise with more noise and dash in 

 the dark), and the words came across to me, 

 " hooked him," " lost him ! " or " hooked him," 

 " got him ! " till at last we met at the Stepping- 

 stones. 



