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Gentleman's Magazine 1900 part 2 p.363
hand jumped up and galloped away, crackling the heather as
he went. With a shrill alarm the ducks - we never discovered
their variety - rose in a body, and at the same moment bang,
bang, rang two shots down the ghyll. We were astounded that
the keeper should be so near, and lay quite still till he
should leave the spot; as yet he might be unaware of our
presence. His shots had both been successful, for he walked
leisurely in view to pick up a brace of fine birds. Ten
minutes later we ventured for home, passing round the
opposite side of the tarn to the gamekeeper. He never knew
that we had been so near him, though had he been accompanied
by his dog it could hardly have missed us.
Another night's frolic was a skate on Windermere in 1895,
the last time the whole length and breadth of it was
bearable. I had already done the thirty-mile round of the
lake, before leaving the brilliantly lighted pier at
Waterhead for the heavy black woods of Wray. The ice, it
will be remembered by those who at this time visited the
lake, was furrowed between Bowness and Ambleside by two
enormous cracks, and to cross these a course had first to be
taken down the Pull shore, not, however, so near as to reach
the thin ice around the mouth of the becks. The first seam
was about a mile from Waterhead. As I approached it a few
skaters were still gliding near me - apparently they were
goning as far as the crack and back. Now a long gurgling
crackle travelled along the ice; a lady screamed and made
for the shore, fourscore yards away. I called out that we
were quite safe, but she did not heed, and rushed towards a
dangerous bay which I had reconnoitred earlier in the day. I
spurted in pursuit and caught up to her; barely in time,
however, for the thinning crust rocked like a raft before I
could arrest our impetus and swerve to sounder ice. I did
not fear drowning for the water was shallow, yet an
immersion would have been very unpleasant. The crack now
loomed in front like a feathery surf. In daylight it was
easily passed, but at night things look different. Across
this, the widest part of the lake, gleamed the many windows
of Lowwood; at various houses by the shore lamps had been
hoisted into the trees, and figures were gliding on the
lighted area beneath them; but out with me was utter
darkness, loneliness, and silence save for the quiet rasp of
my skates. Wray Castle and a few farmhouses showed
occasional gleams of light through the black fir woods and
narrow snow fields. Suddenly in front appeared something
black, a huge dog squatting on the ice it seemed to be. But
as I neared, the mass seemed to dwindle in size - was it the
head and shoulders of a man clinging for dear life to a
splintered ice-egde? I put on speed,
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