A bare pack-horse road wound its way on the west, and stretched out of sight to the north and to the south.

On this road, about half a mile within the southernmost extremity of Bracken Water, two hillocks met, leaving a natural opening between them and a path that went up to where the city stood.
The dalesmen called the cleft between the hillocks the city gates; but why the gates and why the city none could rightly say.

Folks had always given them these names.

The wiser heads shook gravely as they told you that city should be sarnty, meaning the house by the causeway.

The historians of the plain could say no more.
They were rude sons and daughters of the hills who inhabited this mountain home two centuries ago.