THE ENGLISH LAKE COUNTRY 



accounted but an incident in the outing. It is a 

 lonely, imposing, and inspiring spot. In June you 

 may pass a whole day here without seeing a soul, 

 though two of the regular routes up the mountain 

 pass within sight of it. Looking up at Striding Edge 

 from Red tarn, particularly if it is opening and shutting 

 its dark, rugged outline in a driving mist, it seems 

 really perilous and intimidating, though every one 

 knows there is nothing in it to any reasonably active 

 wight with a steady head. Indeed, Swhirrel Edge is 

 much harder work, and nearly as easy to tip over from. 

 Now every one who has ascended or descended 

 Helvellyn on the Grasmere side knows Grisedale tarn, 

 for the path leads along its shores. It is nearly round, 

 and more than a mile in circumference. That trout 

 of some sort inhabited it any knowledgeable angler 

 would assume as a matter of course. It looks made for 

 them, and the Grisedale beck, which contains the usual 

 share of small ones plunges out of it down the beautiful 

 glen whose name it bears. But there really are no 

 fish here. The dalesmen say so emphatically, though 

 such a matter is perhaps difficult to prove positively. 

 I selected not long ago a perfect day for the experi- 

 ment, and fished it steadily with a lovely breeze for 

 two or three hours without a sign of one. I have 

 heard some talk of trout here in former days, but why 

 not now ? There are no bad practices carried on in 

 this country. Besides, if there were, they could not 

 empty a deep mountain lake over a mile round, with 

 a trouting beck running out of it. These things are 

 very mysterious. It would be interesting to know 

 something more of them. Grisedale has apparently 



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