“No, no,” she answered; “maybe they spoke in a tongue I cannot understand, for, though often and often I’ve listened, not one word could I ever make out!”
Chapter Sixteen.
Residence in the Fens of Lincolnshire.
The raw wind from the fens was driving the mist before it, and bending masses of willows, bulrushes, and tall sedges all one way—and that way right against the faces of Deane and his guide, when they commenced their devious course across the marshes, within which Master Pearson’s farm was situated. A dead level was before them, broken here and there only by a group of willows, or occasionally a few small trees which had taken root on patches of firmer ground than that with which they were surrounded, otherwise the horizon was as clear as that of the ocean. The whole country had a raw, cold, damp, and agueish look about it. It was any thing but tempting.
“Where is the farm?” asked Jack, as he pulled up for an instant to survey the unpromising country before him.
“Some miles on,” answered Burdale. “It’s lucky you have a man with you who knows the country, or you would have a bad job to get over it. If you were to ride straight on now, you would be up to your horse’s ears in slush, with very little chance of ever getting out again alive. Come, I’ll show you the way; follow me. Don’t turn either to the right hand or to the left, or you will get into trouble!”
Saying this, Burdale spurred on his somewhat unwilling horse, who seemed to understand the difficulties of the way before him. Here and there, and scattered thickly on every side, were large patches of water, sometimes expanding into the size of lakes, while others were mere pools and puddles. Now a patch of reeds was to be seen. In some places soft velvety grass, growing over, however, the most treacherous spots; now a group of low willows, scarcely six feet high; now a bed of osiers, barely three feet above the surface. There was scarcely a spot which offered any promise of ground sufficiently hard to enable the travellers to move out of the snail’s pace at which they had hitherto been obliged to proceed.
“Well, this is about the worst country I ever rode over!” Jack could not help exclaiming.