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"From John O'Groats to Land's End"

But we could not find either the gate or the farm, or any
turns in the road, nor could either of us remember distinctly the latter
part of the instructions given to us by the man, one thinking we had to
turn to the right and the other to the left. The fact was, we had
calculated upon meeting some one on the road from whom, we could inquire
further. We had been walking slowly for some time, stopping occasionally
to listen for the footsteps of some person from whom we could inquire,
but not a sound could we hear until we almost stumbled against a gate
that barred our further progress, for it reached right across our road,
and beyond this we could hear the sound of rushing water.
I knew now that we had come to a full-stop, as my brother would never
go beyond that gate after he had heard the roar of the stream, which
must have been quite near us. He had often rowed a boat on dangerous
rivers and on the sea; had been nearly lost one dark night in a high
spring-tide on the sandbanks of the River Mersey; had been washed out to
sea through the failure of an oar at Barmouth; had narrowly escaped
being swamped with his boat off the East Coast; and a few years before
had a hair-breadth escape from drowning by being drawn under the wooden
framework protecting the piles for a future famous bridge over the River
Thames near the heart of London; but, owing to a narrow escape from
drowning when he was almost a child, he had the greatest horror of
having his head under water and of being drowned, and even now he was
afraid of the sound of rushing water in the dark, for he could not swim
a yard; but he was a brave man nevertheless!
So there we stood on a pitch-dark night, leaning over a gate in an
unknown country, and on a by-road, listening to the rush of the water
beyond, wishing that some one might come that way to direct us; but it
was hopeless.


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