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Beck, and then down and down to Rydal Woods and Mount. He is
now 2,950 feet above the sea level; and he has surely earned
his meal. If the wind troubles him, he can doubtless find a
sheltered place under a rock. If he can sit on the bare
ridge, he is the more fortunate.
The further he goes, the more amazed he is at the extent of
the walk, which looked such a trifle from below. Waking out
of a reverie, an hour after dinner, he sees that the sun is
some way down the western sky. He hastens on, not heeding
the boggy spaces, and springing along the pathless heather
and moss, seeing more and more lakes and tarns every quarter
of an hour. In the course of the day he sees ten.
Windermere, and little Blelham Tarn beyond, he saw first.
Ullswater was below him to the north when he dined; and,
presently after, a tempting path guided his eye to Grisedale
Tarn, lying in the pass from Patterdale to Grasmere. Here
are four. Next, comes Grasmere, with Easedale Tarn above it,
in its mountain hollow: then Rydal, of course, at his feet;
and Elterwater beyond the western ridges; and finally, to
the south-west, Esthwaite Water and Coniston. There are the
ten. Eight of these may be seen at once from at least one
point - Nab Scar, whence he must take his last complete
survey; for from hence he must plunge down the steep slope,
and bid farewell to all that lies behind the ridge. The day
has gone like an hour. The sunshine is leaving the surface
of the nearer lakes, and the purple bloom of the evening is
on the further mountains; and the gushes of yellow light
between the
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