So here I was, having actually arrived at my goal, at the end of my walk of 73½ miles--not as the crow flies, but as the Wall runs. I had made it probably twice as far, by digressions and excursions. For the present I felt I had had enough walking; I wanted to indulge in a lift; so I began to inquire for a pony and trap to take me back to Drumburgh Castle. I soon found one at an innocent-looking house in the village street, which turned out to be a farm-house, with a yard and byres at the back. The farmer's daughter, who drove me, asked me why I did not spend the night at Bowness. I told her that I had engaged a room at Carlisle because I could not be sure of getting a bed at Bowness; and I related my experiences on {223} the way to Carlisle. "Oh," she cried, "Bo'nes people isn't like _that_! _They'd_ no see you bet. Why, I'd give up my own bed to any one rather than let them go without. Folks say I'll be took in some day, but _I_ don't mind." As we drove down the village street, she pointed out to me the Roman altar, mentioned by Bruce, built into an outhouse near the King's Arms. It is dedicated to Jupiter, for the welfare of the Emperors Gallus and Volusian, so it dates from about 251 A.D. After visiting Drumburgh Castle, I went by train to Kirkandrews. A stout lady in the train asked me if I had been to Bowness. "Ah!" she said, "I know it well; I've been to many a funeral there. They bury them there from Glasson, and from Drumburgh, and I think from Kirkbride. It's a nice place, Bo'nes, to be buried." I inquired what were the special advantages. "Well, well, I can't exactly say, but it's a nice place, is Bo'nes; I'd as lief be buried there myself. My husband's father, he was a canal man, lived for twenty years on a houseboat on the canal; and _he's_ buried at Bo'nes." And that was all the explanation I could get. From Kirkandrews I walked back to Carlisle, first through Grinsdale, and then along the track of the Wall above the Eden. It was such a lovely evening! My shadow was cast by the lowering sun half across the blue waters of the Eden, and {224} Carlisle Castle and Cathedral appeared at intervals over the stone railway bridge, glowing in the warm light. As I neared Carlisle, the meadows were alive with children of all ages, enjoying the beautiful close of a hot day. Miners on strike were racing their whippets; small boys with hatchets were chopping off dead boughs for firewood on the steep tree-covered river banks; children were bathing and paddling from the rocks by the engine-house. A sweet smell of may was in the air. And I had a satisfied sense of "something accomplished, something done." The week's walk had been delightful, and my acquaintance with the Wall had been much extended and deepened; and yet I was not wholly sorry to return to civilized habits, and to unstrap my haversack from my shoulders for the last time. But I had not quite said good-bye to the tramp I had been.