I had the fancy to walk out one winter's morning in a very lonely place.
The wind was laden with sleet, and as I walked on the top of the cliffs
it struck my right cheek viciously, and then screamed away past through
the furze-bushes. The light was coming up slowly over the leaden sea,
and the waves seemed cowed by the steady flogging of the sleet. I heard
the woods complaining from afar off, and the whistling curlew as he
called overhead made me think of messengers of evil. Presently I came to
a great range of rounded hills, which were covered by withered bracken.
Certain gaps led through these hills to the beach, and along the beach I
determined to walk. My terrier concluded that rabbits were vanity. He
drooped his ears and tail, and trotted along as if he were reproaching
me for my rashness. I was glancing out over the grey trouble of the sea,
and watching the forlorn ships cowering along like belated ghosts, when
I heard a click to the right of me. Looking up the bluff, I saw a tall
powerful lad who had just straightened himself up. He had two rabbits
slung over his shoulder, and his big bag seemed to contain many more. I
walked towards him to have a look at what he was doing, and I found him
manoeuvring with a great steel trap. When he had finished, we dropped
into conversation in that easy way proper to wild places where few men
ever come. I noticed his build and his face. His rough bonnet covered
his forehead, but I could see he had plenty of thick brown hair. His eye
was blue like tempered steel, and shone with a steady gleam from under
projecting brows. His mouth was beautifully shaped, and his lips were
full and resolute. For the rest, he was built like an ordinary
dalesman--broad and flat in the shoulders, lean in the flank, and strong
of limb. His clothing was coarse and poor, and his hands were rough and
very red.