much more to deny it, that Ravens of old fed Elijah; but that was the
punishment of some old sin committed by Two who before the Flood bore
the human shape, and who, soon as the Ark rested on Mount Ararat, flew
off to the desolation of swamped forests and the disfigured solitude of
the drowned glens. Dying Ravens hide themselves from daylight in
burial-places among the rocks, and are seen hobbling into their tombs,
as if driven thither by a flock of fears, and crouching under a remorse
that disturbs instinct, even as if it were conscience. So sings and says
the Celtic superstition--muttered to us in a dream--adding that there
are Raven ghosts, great black bundles of feathers, for ever in the
forest, night-hunting in famine for prey, emitting a last feeble croak
at the blush of dawn, and then all at once invisible.

There can be no doubt that that foolish Quaker, who some twenty years
ago perished at the foot of a crag near Red Tarn, "far in the bosom of
Helvyllyn," was devoured by ravens. We call him foolish, because no
adherent of that sect was ever qualified to find his way among mountains
when the day was shortish, and the snow, if not very deep, yet wreathed
and pit-falled. In such season and weather, no place so fit for a Quaker
as the fireside. Not to insist, however, on that point, with what glee
the few hungry and thirsty old Ravens belonging to the Red Tarn Club
must have flocked to the Ordinary! Without asking each other to which
part this, that, or the other croaker chose to be helped, the maxim
which regulated their behaviour at table was doubtless, "First come,
first served." Forthwith each bill was busy, and the scene became
animated in the extreme. There must have been great difficulty to the
most accomplished of the carrion in stripping the Quaker of his drab.
The broad-brim had probably escaped with the first intention, and after
going before the wind half across the unfrozen Tarn, capsized, filled,
and sunk. Picture to yourself so many devils, all in glossy black
feather coats and dark breeches, with waistcoats inclining to blue,
pully-hawlying away at the unresisting figure of the follower of Fox,
and getting first vexed and then irritated with the pieces of choking
soft armour in which, five or six ply thick, his inviting carcass was so
provokingly insheathed! First a drab duffle cloak--then a drab
wraprascal--then a drab broadcloth coat, made in the oldest
fashion--then a drab waistcoat of the same--