The other was one of the labourers, named Gould, who, with his fellow-workmen, had sat down to rest, or dine, somewhere under the said shaft. He was leaning back, when a stone, scarcely larger than a good walnut, fell from the shaft, and striking him upon the forehead, killed him on the spot. Passing this ill-omened hole, you follow the steep path downwards, and pass considerably to your left the “Pudding Stone,” the largest boulder stone I have seen, excepting that near Keswick. It is higher than it is long or broad, and rests upon a ridge, where it is puzzling to conceive how it could have stayed by chance. You also pass on the left, but nearer to you, two singularly rugged hillocks called High and Low Crawberry, with Crawberry Hause between. On the right is the Bell, a precipitous rocky hill, where ravens, and buzzards, or gleads, take up their abode; and descending still through an extensive rocky pasture, rejoicing in the euphonious title of the Scrow, formerly covered with wood, as is evidenced by the traces of the charcoal pits yet visible, you reach a wooden bridge, and cross it into the Mines road, with which you are already so well acquainted, that it is scarcely incumbent upon me to rave any further at this present speaking. I would by no means bind you to ascend or descend the Old Man by the routes I have described. I merely recommend them as offering most objects likely to amuse, and as being considered the easiest for pedestrian adventurers. But, by taking the road to the slate quarries, you may ride a steady pony to within a quarter of a mile of the summit,—or by following the Walna Scar road for a mile or two, and taking the path by Gaits Water, you may, with one or two short intervals of leading, ride to the very top; the road, however, is some miles longer, seeing that you must circumvent the Old Man before you attain your object by this route, and you will find it no trifling task to get round _him_. [Sidenote: PROPER SELF-APPRECIATION.] During this and the preceding ramble, it might, perhaps, be expected of me to say something upon geology. The only excuse I have to offer for this serious omission—whether sufficient or otherwise—is, that I know nothing about it. I can, however, do the next best thing to lecturing on the subject myself, and that is recommend you to peruse the letters of Professor Sedgwick to Mr Wordsworth on the Geology of the Lake District, which you will find in a handsome and well got up guide-book, published by Mr Hudson, of Kendal, or the chapters on the same subject by Professor Phillips, contained in another guide-book, of which Adam and Charles Black, of Edinburgh, are the publishers, either or both of which are amply sufficient, if well studied, to enable you to talk geology in any society very respectably. I am a very superficial observer myself, and only pretend to point out what is amusing, leaving the instructive to abler hands and wiser heads. CHAPTER X. THE CIRCUIT OF THE LAKE.