Gents Mag 1902 part 2 p.426

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	Gentleman's Magazine 1902 part 2 p.426 "You have wronged," came a voice as of a syren gloating over its prey. The hardy men shivered, and turned to discern, if possible, whence the voice came. Not fifty yards away, a sheer spur of rock towered up, and here in majestic state stood the witch, with the scurrying wreaths of mist around her head. The Captain sprang to the foot of the cliff and addressed her:- "Friend witch, a plague to these stone-covered slopes and craggy cliffs. Show us the way to the valley again, if thy magic avail aught, and thou shalt have treasure to satisfy thee." "Canst thou bribe the devil, whose is all gold and silver? Thou and thy band are condemned to find the fourscore Saxons who fought for their rights at Ely and at Northallerton,l and till Norman eyes can see the fox among the bent, and Norman feet can outclimb all upon scree and crag, you cannot reach them. From this to that," the witch held out her hands towards the heavens above and towards the moving mist-wreaths below, "you cannot find solace or rest. The curse of the fells is upon you. in the coming time I see you riding betwixt mist and dale, restless, silent, capturing none." "A Saxon pig, by God! and a heathen. Upon her, and hew her to pieces." Obediently his men sprang forward, but, with a roar and a rattle, the cliff in front of them crumbled to pieces, and they had to retreat for their lives. The Captain, sword in hand, stood nearest the flying fragments, and in silence waited for the witch to speak again. But she had gone; the rock on which she had stood when last seen slowly crumbled and, in a succession of mighty avalanches, rolled down the mountain side. "You have wronged," came a thunder of defiance from the surging clouds above, "and be ye punished." Days passed on; the expedition did not return, so the Baron of Kendal sent forth another force. Not a trace, not a sign, of the lost men could be found. The mist still hung close on the hills, and the Saxon rebels, more accustomed to the conditions of the ground and air than the Normans, were unremitting in their attacks. The bowmen of the invaders could not shoot without a mark, and the arrows cleaving the mists were the only signs of life. Now came the breaking up of the Saxon terror. An army was sent in succour, and the last bitter struggle began. Round Buckbarrow and Grey Crag, round
	l Men of the northern marches fought for the Scots at the battle of the Standard.
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