n the morning light first
dawned, I could see that I was walking along the side of a ravine of
great depth, and more than usually perpendicular sides; it was so steep
that I could not climb to the top of the ridge and get out of it, and the
snow was in such a very loose, soft state, that I expected every moment
it would give way beneath me, and I should be precipitated into the
depths below. I had to walk with the greatest care to prevent this; and
I believe that this was a very good thing for me, as it gave my mind
complete occupation, and kept me from flagging. I could only go straight
on, as I could not ascend, and was afraid to descend. My method of
progression was more crawling than walking, as I had to drive my hands
deep into the snow, and clutch at tufts of grass or heather, or any thing
I could find beneath it, to hold on by. I must have gone forward in this
way for an hour or two, when I found the ravine becoming less steep, and
I heard the sound of running water very distinctly. Accordingly I
thought I would descend and try once more whether I could walk down the
stream, as this by its sound seemed a larger one, and I thought it might
have cut a way through the drifts. I reached the bottom of the valley
safely. It appears to have been the valley immediately above the Light
Spout waterfall, and, trying to walk by the stream, I tumbled over the
first upper fall. Hearing a noise of falling water, and seeing dimly
rocks all round me, I found it would not do to go forward in this
direction, so, having unconsciously gone to the very edge of the lower
cascade, where I must in all probability have been killed had I fallen
over, I turned sharply up the hill again, going over the rocks above, and
coming down again by a very steep place. Round and round this waterfall
I seemed to have climbed in every possible direction. A man who had
tracked me, and with whom I visited the place a few weeks ago, said, "You
seem to have had a deal o' work to do here, Sir," pointing to a small
rocky space at the bottom of the fall. I had imagined, while thus going
round and round as if on a tread mill, that I was walking straight
forward down the stream, and I suppose my efforts to keep near the sound
of the water misled me. Though perfectly familiar with this part of the
Long Mynd, I was so blind at this time, and everything looked so strange,
that I did not in the least recognise my position. Finding I did not get
on very we