The View Down Upon The Lakes And The Forests Around,
And On The Wooded Hills Below, Is Wonderfully Lovely.
I never was
on a mountain which gave me a more perfect command of all the
country round.
But as we arose to descend we saw a little cloud
coming toward us from over Newport.
The little cloud came on with speed, and we had hardly freed
ourselves from the rocks of the summit before we were surrounded by
rain. As the rain became thicker, we were surrounded by darkness
also, or, if not by darkness, by so dim a light that it became a
task to find our path. I still thought that the daylight had not
gone, and that as we descended, and so escaped from the cloud, we
should find light enough to guide us. But it was not so. The rain
soon became a matter of indifference, and so also did the mud and
briers beneath our feet. Even the steepness of the way was almost
forgotten as we endeavored to thread our path through the forest
before it should become impossible to discern the track. A dog had
followed us up, and though the beast would not stay with us so as
to be our guide, he returned ever and anon, and made us aware of
his presence by dashing by us. I may confess now that I became
much frightened. We were wet through, and a night out in the
forest would have been unpleasant to us.
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