|
page 125
This lordly creature seems to know that "retiredness (sic)
is a piece of majesty; for it is scarcely ever caught, or
even seen, except when it quits the depths of the lake in
the spawning season, and runs up into the streams, where it
is too often destroyed in disregard of the law of the land
and of nature.
Quitted the boat in the bay of Sandwyke, and pursued our way
towards Martindale along a pleasant path - at first through
a coppice, bordering the lake, then through green fields -
and came to the village, (if village it may be called, for
the houses are few, and separated from each other,) a
sequestered spot, shut out from the view of the lake.
Crossed the one-arched bridge, below the chapel, with its
"bare ring of mossy wall," and a single yew-tree. At the
last house in the dale we were greeted by the master, who
was sitting at his door, with a flock of sheep collected
round him, for the purpose of smearing them with tar
(according to the custom of the season) for protection
against the winter's cold. He invited us to enter, and view
a room built by Mr. Hasell for the accommodation of his
friends at the annual chase of red deer in his forests at
the head of these dales. The room is fitted up in the
sportsman's style, with a cupboard for bottles and glasses,
with strong chairs, and a dining-table; and ornamented with
the horns of the stags caught at these hunts for a
succession of years - the length of the last race each had
run being recorded under his spread-
|