Gathering the Water Read Free Page B

valley as far as the lead mines and their spoil heaps. I was surprised by the size of the buildings, by the substance of their construction in so inaccessible a place, and by the great extent of their spilled waste, hillocks piled one upon the other running from the mines to the valley bottom, and looking from a distance like giant eggs laid neatly out across the slope.

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    This is my first stay in the north of any length and already I have started gathering the details by which the true spirit of the place might be best understood, and which, to my naturalist’s mind at least, are worthy of record.
    Those peat tops, for instance, are everywhere called ‘hags’; the viper or adder is a ‘hagworm’; the kestrel is a ‘windhover’; the snail a ‘wallfish’; and the rowan tree is still without reservation referred to as ‘witchwood’.
    Long before my arrival, but upon learning of my appointment, I was warned by my acquaintances – now mostly lost – that the language, manners and customs of the place would be in great measure unintelligible, and, where intelligible, then repulsive to me. I feigned concurrence with this advice, and then humour at every joke it spawned.
    There are twenty names for the various rains which fall, and which often vary within a single shower. A storm of less than a day’s duration is a ‘small’ storm, and the thrush is without fail called ‘stormcock’ because of its perverse habit of turning into every wind and whistling undisturbed by it.

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    I went into that part of the lower valley where the dwellings are greater in number. Most are on the same side of the river, the opposite bank immediately above and below the dam being steeper and wooded. I went to observe the flow of the river below the dam now that its sluices are in operation and the movement of the water regulated. I have no power over the working of the dam. The bailiff alone – should he ever reveal himself to me – possesses that in conjunction with the distant controllers and planners.
    The flow was greatly reduced, revealing the gravel and boulders of the river-bed. Stepping stones rose in short pillars like the remains of a lost colonnade. I noted down everything I saw. The few people I encountered eitherignored me or departed having exchanged the obligatory cold pleasantries.
    Another purpose of my visit there was to establish some means of communication with the outer world. I shall let the phrase stand; it is how I feel. The mail coach passed on the main road eight miles to the south, but I was as yet unsure how to make my connection with it. The Board men had seemed little concerned regarding this difficulty.
    Leaving the river, I climbed the bank and returned among the houses, and there I again encountered Mary Latimer. She emerged from a walled alley, a package of letters in her hand, which she inspected as she walked. I called to her and she stopped. I approached her and apologized for having interrupted her. She seemed relieved that it was I who had called and not someone else. A group of women stood a short distance from us, each of them having turned at my call.
    â€˜Are you working?’ she said. She returned the gaze of the women, but this did little to dissuade them from watching us.
    I indicated her letters and told her why I was there. ‘You appear to have a great many correspondents,’ I said.
    â€˜A week’s gleanings.’ It was still an impressive number. She told me the name of the man who brought the mail from the coach. She pointed to his home at the far end of the walled lane. Pieces of furniture stood around the house.
    â€˜Will he too soon be gone?’
    â€˜I imagine so.’
    â€˜And what then?’
    â€˜Then another door will be heard slamming loudly shut behind us. You must surely be familiar with the sound by now.’
    â€˜They tend to slam shut ahead of me,’ I said, thus