e gaunt
obelisk near Marske Hall responds to a fine sunset of this sort, and
shows a gilded side that gives it almost a touch of grandeur.

Evening is by no means necessary to the attractions of Swaledale, for a
blazing noon gives lights and shades and contrasts of colour that are a
large portion of Swaledale's charms. If instead of taking either the
old road by way of Marske, or the new one by the riverside, one had
crossed the old bridge below the castle, and left Richmond by a very
steep road that goes to Leyburn, one would have reached a moorland that
is at its best in the full light of a clear morning.

The clouds are big, but they carry no threat of rain, for right down to
the far horizon from whence this wind is coming there are patches of
blue proportionate to the vast spaces overhead. As each white mass
passes across the sun, we are immersed in a shadow many acres in
extent: but the sunlight has scarcely fled when a rim of light comes
over the edge of the plain, just above the hollow where Downholme
village lies hidden from sight, and in a few minutes that belt of
sunshine has reached some sheep not far off, and rimmed their coats
with a brilliant edge of white. Shafts of whiteness, like searchlights,
stream from behind a distant cloud, and everywhere there is brilliant
contrast and a purity to the eye and lungs that only a Yorkshire moor
possesses.

A short two miles up the road to Leyburn, just above Gill Beck, there
is an ancient house known as Walburn Hall, and also the remains of the
chapel belonging to it, which dates from the Perpendicular period. The
buildings are now used as a farm, but there are still enough
suggestions of a dignified past to revivify the times when this was a
centre of feudal power.

Turning back to Swaledale by a lane on the south side of Gill Beck,
Downholme village is passed a mile away on the right, and the bold
scenery of the dale once more becomes impressive.

Two great headlands, formed by the wall-like terminations of Cogden and
Harkerside Moors, rising one above the other, stand out magnificently.
Their huge sides tower up nearly a thousand feet from the river, until
they are within reach of the lowering clouds that every moment threaten
to envelop them in their indigo embrace. There is a curious rift in the
dark cumulus revealing a thin line of dull carmine that frequently
changes its shape and becomes nearly obliterated, but its presence in
no way weakens the awesome