A MOORLAND SANCTUARY 



A WINTER night was stealing slowly over a ' 

 -JL wilderness of moor and marsh among the 

 hills. A genble wind had scattered the day-mist 

 and then had given place to a brooding calm. 

 Above a solitary farmhouse on the northern 

 slope of the moor, dark grey clouds had gathered 

 in the sky, while down towards a part of the 

 horizon discernible between a few scattered pine 

 trees sheltering the lonely dwelling, gleamed a 

 thin line of steely light. Towards the west, the 

 outlook changed to the splendour of the after- 

 glow. There, nothing was suggestive, like the 

 white line among the pines, of desolation. The 

 glorious light, spreading across the waste, trans- 

 formed the withered grass and heather into 

 masses of flame, and was reflected in the reed- 

 fringed pools and rivulets among the hollows of 

 the peat. Gradually, the splendour sunk into 

 the west, till nothing but a dazzling yellow bar, 

 against which stood out in relief an ancient 

 burial mound, remained above the horizon. 



Then, breaking the silence, a hollow boom- 

 ing cry rang out over the waste, and echoed 



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