And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing—­
  And so never ending, but always descending,
  Sounds and motions for ever are blending. 
  All at once and all o’er, with a mighty uproar—­
  And this way the water comes down at Lodore!

The water rolled in great volumes down the crags, the spray rising in clouds, and no doubt we saw the falls at their best despite the absence of the sun.  Near Lodore, and about 150 yards from the shore of Derwentwater, was a floating island which at regular intervals of a few years rises from the bottom exposing sometimes nearly an acre in extent, and at others only a few perches.  This island was composed of a mass of decayed weeds and earthy matter, nearly six feet in thickness, covered with vegetation, and full of air bubbles, which, it was supposed, penetrated the whole mass and caused it to rise to the surface.

[Illustration:  HEAD OF DERWENTWATER.  “So we journeyed on in the rain alongside the pretty lake of Derwentwater; ... with its nicely wooded islands dotting its surface it recalled memories of Loch Lomond.”]

By this time we had become quite accustomed to being out in the rain and getting wet to the skin, but the temperature was gradually falling, and we had to be more careful lest we should catch cold.  It was very provoking that we had to pass through the Lake District without seeing it, but from the occasional glimpses we got between the showers we certainly thought we were passing through the prettiest country in all our travels.  In Scotland the mountains were higher and the lakes, or lochs, much larger, but the profiles of the hills here, at least of those we saw, were prettier.  About two miles from the Falls of Lodore we arrived at the famous Bowder Stone.  We had passed many crags and through bewitching scenery, but we were absolutely astonished at the size of this great stone, which Wordsworth has described as being like a stranded ship: 

  Upon a semicirque of turf-clad ground,
  A mass of rock, resembling, as it lay
  Right at the foot of that moist precipice,
  A stranded ship with keel upturned, that rests
  Careless of winds and waves.

[Illustration:  THE BOWDER STONE.]

The most modest estimate of the weight of the Bowder Stone was 1,771 tons, and we measured it as being 21 yards long and 12 yards high.  This immense mass of rock had evidently fallen from the hills above.  We climbed up the great stone by means of a ladder or flight of wooden steps erected against it to enable visitors to reach the top.  But the strangest thing about it was the narrow base on which the stone rested, consisting merely of a few narrow ledges of rock.  We were told that fifty horses could shelter under it, and that we could shake hands with each other under the bottom of the stone, and although we could not test the accuracy of the statement with regard to the number of horses it could shelter, we