14 



BRITISH M088E8. 



as of Druids with their grey hair streaming on the wind, and after a long day 

 spent in hunting out Druidical antiquities, the October evening closed in on us, 

 the sky flushing crimson, and the mists marching off the hills in weird pageant, 

 as if the Druids had come back in sullen anger to behold the profanation of their 

 shrines. 



One more memory and we leave cloud-land. It was evening', and we rode 

 quickly up a tor, expecting to see the sun setting into the ocean ; before us were 

 round granite hills, beyond these two serrated heights, and instead of any view of 

 the sunset, we saw, behind all, a great mist towering up, and taking the form of a 

 range of mountains. The skirts of the mist hung over the true hills, magnifying 

 them to double their real size, and, rising before the sun, the tops of the mimic 

 mountains became golden, and the mountains purple, and that mountain-range was 

 a vision of such glory as it is not in words to tell. There were deep ravine and 

 castled summit, and cataract hasting from the heights, and river, and broad lake, 

 and fleecy clouds hovering on the mountain-sides, making them " hills of angels ; " 

 cloud and cataract and castle were in golden light, and ravine was in purple 

 shadow, and all were changing at every moment into more glory and more wonder : 

 and then the mountains towered higher and higher, and bowed their mighty 

 heads, and swept down the hollows between the granite as billows of mist; and 

 we heard the shouts of our companions from below, — " The sea-fog ! " and as we 

 joined them a billow swept over us, and all was grey. 



