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Roby, John

"Traditions of Lancashire, Volume 1 (of 2)"


On my right a succession of low sand-hills, drifted by the partial and
unsteady blasts, skirted the horizon--their summits strongly marked upon
the red and lowering sky in an undulating and scarcely-broken outline.
Behind them I heard the vast and busy waters rolling on, like the voice
of the coming tempest. Here and there some rude and solitary hut rose
above the red hillocks, bare and unprotected: no object of known
dimensions being near by which its true magnitude might be estimated,
the eye seemed to exaggerate its form upon the mind in almost gigantic
proportions. As twilight drew on, the deception increased; and, starting
occasionally from the influence of some lacerating thought, I beheld,
perchance, some huge-and turreted fortress, or a pile of misshapen
battlements, rising beyond the hills like the grim castles of romance,
or the air-built shadows of fairy-land.... Night was fast closing; I was
alone, out of the beaten track, amidst a desert and thinly-inhabited
region; a perfect stranger, I had only the superior sagacity of my steed
to look to for safety and eventual extrication from this perilous
labyrinth.


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