Such a lonely and dangerous road should no doubt be avoided at night,
but yet I am always grateful for the delays which made me so late that
darkness came on when I was at the highest portion of the pass. It was
late in September, and it was the day of the feast at Hawes, which had
drawn to that small town farmers and their wives, and most, if not all,
the young men and maidens within a considerable radius. I made my way
slowly up the long ascent from Muker, stumbling frequently on the loose
stones and in the water-worn runnels that were scarcely visible in the
dim twilight. The huge, bare shoulders of the fells began to close in
more and more as I climbed. Towards the west lay Great Shunnor Fell,
its vast brown-green mass being sharply defined against the clear
evening sky; while further away to the north-west there were blue
mountains going to sleep in the soft mistiness of the distance. Then
the road made a sudden zig-zag, but went on climbing more steeply than
ever, until at last I found that the stony track had brought me to the
verge of a precipice.
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