button to main menu  Gents Mag 1890 part 1 p.530

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Gentleman's Magazine 1890 part 1 p.530
severely. On the higher runs they perished by hundreds. The farmers (four in number) of the farms lying contiguous to Sca Fell alone lost fifteen hundred sheep out of an aggregate of about six thousand. The whitened bones and fleeces of these were dotted everywhere about the fells, and to the hill farmers in these times of depression this fact almost spells ruin. The skeletons were bleached, and the only things that profited by the protracted snows were the peregrines and ravens of the crags. These birds still find an asylum in the deepest recesses of the mountains.
In these desolate hill tracts winter usually lasts through seven months of the year. Layer upon layer of snow becomes hard frozen, and upon the highest peaks of Skiddaw and Sca Fell this often lies till June or July. During the mid-summer day of 1888 the mountains were lashed in blinding snow-storms. But for the most part April clears the summits of the mists, and a better time is at hand. The snows have cleared from the lower grounds, and the sparse vegetation comes sweet and green. This grows quickly, and the flock rapidly gains in condition. Now the sheep are ever active; by the torrent sides, by the leas of the boulders, and along the rock ledges they seek the freshest grass. And in search of this they sometimes become crag-fast - that is, they climb and climb from one narrow ledge to another, sometimes placing their fore feet upon even a jagged splinter. If a face of rock intervene, and they cannot climb out to the top of the crag, they turn to descend. But here, too, retreat is cut off. Sometimes the sheep remain in this position for two or three days, eating whatever is within reach, and then one of two things happens: either they are rescued by the shepherds, who are let down to them by ropes, or they fall prey to birds and foxes. The raven, the peregrine, and the buzzard freely appreciate the creature's position and await their chance. Sometimes the birds so terrify the sheep that in its fright it makes one mad leap, and is dashed to pieces as it descends the crag. The raven hardly waits till death has come, but immediately goes dallying round and round the carcass, and soon falls to work upon brain, lip, or palate. The peregrine feeds only so long as the flesh is sweet, though the hill foxes and crows visit the spot for a week.
Snow lines are yet sketched along the stone fences of the fells; but this is all that remains of winter. Everything testifies to the coming of spring. The foaming fell "becks" sparkle in the sun and the climbing sheep are sprinkled over the crags. A breadth of blue is overhead, and towards this the sheep always climb. When the weather is fine their heads are infallibly turned towards the skyline. From
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