178 STORM ON THE FELL. 



In the roar of the blast, and crash of the thunder, 

 and pelt of the hail, one might as well have spoken 

 to the elements : so it was necessary for us all to 

 keep our pace, that he might not stride away from 

 us entirely. Through stumblings and slidings in- 

 numerable, we did this, — the lightning playing 

 about our faces the while, like a will-o'-the-wisp 

 on the face of a bog. The hail and rain had 

 drenched us to the skin ; they were driven in at 

 every opening of our clothes; they cut our necks 

 behind, and filled our shoes ; our hats and bonnets 

 were immediately soaked through, and every- 

 body's hair wringing wet. The thunder seemed 

 to roll on our very skulls. In this weather we 

 went plunging on for four miles, through spongy 

 boss, and turbid streams whose bridges of stones 

 were hidden in the rushing waters, or by narrow 

 pathways each one of which was converted by 

 the storm into an impetuous brook. When we 

 had descended into a region where we could hear 

 ourselves speak, we congratulated one another on 

 our prudence in having engaged a guide. Without 

 him, how should we have known the path from the 

 brook, or have guessed where we might ford the 

 stream, when the bridges were out of sight ? Two 

 horses, we afterwards heard, were killed on the 

 same fell in that storm : and we should never have 

 come down, we were persuaded, if we had been left 

 to wander by ourselves. 



Lamplugh Cross is three miles from Ennerdale 

 Bridge ; and thence the road begins to descend, and 



for the most part continues descending 

 "ofo'ss ' 1 f' or ^ ne remaining six miles to Scale 



Hill Inn. On leaving the common, 

 from which the Solway and Scotch mountains are 



