CHAPTER VI 
FROM KILMANAGH TO KNOCKDANE 
FROM Kilmanagh Hill the highlands stretch north 
and south mile after mile, with here and there the 
grey head of a limestone crag protruding through 
the heather. In the less rugged spots the peasants 
have collected the stones and piled them up, so as to 
enclose a tiny half-acre field with a wall as strong 
and high as a rampart ; but for the most part the 
country lies derelict in moor and bog the home 
of the curlew, plover and hill-fox. It is a weird land 
this, which in rockbound loneliness looks out over 
the cultivated plain. From its southern limits 
can be seen the sea, a pale streak in the distance ; 
and often all day long the Atlantic mists settle 
down and wrap the hills in a chill pall until sunset, 
when the sun breaks out and the moor glows 
beneath him like a wet pebble. But to-night the 
sun had long since disappeared behind the cone of 
Galtymore, and the stars had taken his place, until 
they in their turn were drowned by the January 
moon which rose, polished with frost, above the 
highest of the eastern tiers of mountains. The 
western slopes of Kilmanagh were still hidden in 
deepest shadow, but on the east every bush and 
