I crossed a burn, and came out on a highroad which made a pass between two glens.
All in front of me was a big field of heather sloping up to a crest which was crowned with an odd feather of trees.

In the dyke by the roadside was a gate, from which a grass-grown track led over the first wave of the moor.
I jumped the dyke and followed it, and after a few hundred yards--as soon as it was out of sight of the highway--the grass stopped and it became a very respectable road, which was evidently kept with some care.

Clearly it ran to a house, and I began to think of doing the same.

Hitherto my luck had held, and it might be that my best chance would be found in this remote dwelling.

Anyhow there were trees there, and that meant cover.
I did not follow the road, but the burnside which flanked it on the right, where the bracken grew deep and the high banks made a tolerable screen.