ravine into an astonishing
splendour. A little more careful scrambling by the side of the stream,
and we see a white band of water falling from the overhanging limestone
into the pool about ninety feet below. Off the surface of the water
drifts a mist of spray, in which a soft patch of rainbow hovers until
the sun withdraws itself for a time and leaves a sudden gloom in the
horseshoe of overhanging cliffs. The place is, perhaps, more in
sympathy with a cloudy sky, but, under sunshine or cloud, the spout of
water is a memorable sight, and its imposing height places Hardraw
among the small group of England's finest waterfalls. The mass of shale
that lies beneath this stratum is soft enough to be worked away by the
water until the limestone overhangs the pool to the extent of ten or
twelve feet, so that the water falls sheer into the circular basin,
leaving a space between the cliff and the fall where it is safe to walk
on a rather moist and slippery path that is constantly being sprayed
from the surface of the pool.

John Leland wrote, nearly four hundred years ago, '_Uredale_ veri
litle Corne except Bygg or Otes, but plentiful of Gresse in Communes,'
and although this dale is so much more genial in aspect, and so much
wider than the valley of the Swale, yet crops are under the same
disabilities. Leaving Gayle behind, we climb up a steep and stony road
above the beck until we are soon above the level of green pasturage.
The stone walls still cover the hillsides with a net of very large
mesh, but the sheep find more bent than grass, and the ground is often
exceedingly steep. Higher still climbs this venturesome road, until all
around us is a vast tumble of gaunt brown fells, divided by ravines
whose sides are scarred with runnels of water, which have exposed the
rocks and left miniature screes down below. At a height of nearly 1,600
feet there is a gate, where we will turn away from the road that goes
on past Dodd Fell into Langstrothdale, and instead climb a smooth grass
track sprinkled with half-buried rocks until we have reached the summit
of Wether Fell, 400 feet higher. There is a scanty growth of ling upon
the top of this height, but the hills that lie about on every side are
browny-green or of an ochre colour, and there is little of the purple
one sees in the Cleveland Hills.

The cultivated level of Wensleydale is quite hidden from view, so that
we look over a vast panorama of mountains extending in the west as f