I descended the steep little grassy hill on which {163} the house stands, and crept through the barbed-wire fence at the bottom into a flat meadow on a level with the river. There, in the hedge, were Wall-stones in plenty, and again the path lay in the ditch, though it had been very nearly levelled, probably by the plough. The river Irthing was still on the right, curving round to meet the line of the Wall. Just before they meet, the Wall disappears again, and the low bank of the river is covered with undergrowth. The opposite bank is very high and precipitous, thickly clothed with trees and bushes; but on its summit can be seen clinging a precious bit of the Wall, seven courses high. Keeping to my resolve of following the Wall through thick and thin, I took off my shoes and stockings, and crossed the river, after searching in vain for any signs of how the Wall had crossed it. Where it had crossed it I could guess, from the overhanging piece of Wall in front, and the line along which I had come. I am told by those who have the right to express an opinion that there certainly is a bridge buried here, on the east bank, and that it's simply "asking" to be excavated! The river was fairly low, so I was able to cross dry-footed, jumping from stone to stone, with only one hazardous jump in the middle, where the current of the stream flows deepest. I was now {164} beneath the cliffs which Jenkinson in his _Guide_ describes as "now quite precipitous and impossible to ascend." But it was not impossible at all, though difficult. The thick growth of trees and bushes was both a hindrance and a help, for, though it barred my way, it gave more foothold on the steep bank. At last I came out on the top, close to the fine bit of Wall still standing, and could examine it at leisure. It is making straight for Birdoswald farm-house, now not far away, and the eye can follow it along the boundary hedge between cornfields and pasture-land. Close by, on the high bank of the Irthing, are traces of the Harrow's Scar mile-castle, placed here to guard the passage of the stream. THE WALL OVERHANGING THE IRTHING. This bank of the Irthing, where the Wall still clings at the top, was a perfectly bare, sandy bank in 1848, without trees or undergrowth, as shown in H. B. Richardson's drawing in Newcastle. In 1801, when Hutton climbed it, he speaks of "brambles," so it would almost look as if there had been a landslip on this bank between 1801 and 1848. Now it is covered very thickly with vegetation, especially low down near the river. [Illustration: THE WALL OVERHANGING THE IRTHING]