National Geographic : 1956 Apr
Having earned their view by strenuous hours on the fells, they slip the packs from their backs and look downward from the summit of a mountain to the smooth hills folded against one another to the sky, and to a blue lake in a green valley. I recall such a view of Hawes Water from the pony track be low Harter Fell. Far below lay a spoonful of blue cupped in a great panorama of hills. The clouds raced across the distant fells, sweeping them with chang ing color, and I realized what Wordsworth wished to convey when he wrote of "the com pound hues of a dove's neck." Distant Glitter of the Irish Sea I remember a stormy day on the shoulders of Great Gable, when I looked westward across Wast Water. Suddenly the sun came through. Some hills lay in sunlight, others in shadow, and I felt that I was alone with elemental forces, as if I were the last man on earth. Then the lower mists blew away, and through them I saw the green and checkered little valley of Wasdale, with its fields divided by stone walls into a hundred queer shapes. Beyond, across miles of low country, shone a distant glitter of the Irish Sea. I remember in particular one night by the little lake of Rydal Water (page 523). Clouds were scudding across the sky; then in an instant the full moon came through a rift and lay all gold and shimmering on the water, as if it had fallen from the sky. A pale light washed the banks, and the dark reeds at the lakeside might have been the spears of a hidden army. It seemed that at any mo ment the surface of the lake might be broken by an arm grasping the sword Excalibur, and that out from a shadowy headland might come the three queens in their mourning barge, 525 Rescue Students Test Nerves on High Lakeland's Outward Bound Mountain School trains boys to be men (page 532). Members of this patrol cultivate character as much as muscle and skill. "Rescuer" and "rescued," trusting lives to ropes held by comrades above, descend an 80-foot cliff on Great Gable.