He looked up and saw a grim pall of wet lying over the lake and all up the side of Hawk's Pike, of which only the lower slope was distinguishable through the mist.

It was not a promising evening; and Rollitt, now he came to think of it, might as well go back to Fellsgarth as stand about here.
So he collected his tackle and turned homeward.

His path from the lake brought him across the track which leads round to the back of the mountain; and he was just turning in here when he heard what sounded like a halloo on the hill-side.

It was probably only a shepherd calling his dog, but he waited to make sure.
Yes, it was a shout, but it sounded more like a sheep than a man.
Rollitt shouted back.

A quick response came, and presently out of the mist a shadowy form emerged running down the slope, hopping over the boulders, and making for the lane.
A minute more and Wally presented himself.
"Hullo, is that you, Rollitt?
I thought I was lost.