the meeting-place of the four great roads running north, south, east,
and west, as well as of railways going in the same directions. And this
view of the little town is by no means original, for the strategic
importance of the position was recognised at least as long ago as the
days of the early Edwards, when the castle was built to command the
approach to Newton Dale and to be a menace to the whole of the Vale of
Pickering.

The old-time traveller from York to Whitby saw practically nothing of
Newton Dale, for the great coach-road bore him towards the east, and
then, on climbing the steep hill up to Lockton Low Moor, he went almost
due north as far as Sleights. But to-day everyone passes right through
the gloomy canyon, for the railway now follows the windings of Pickering
Beck, and nursemaids and children on their way to the seaside may gaze
at the frowning cliffs which seventy years ago were only known to
travellers and a few shepherds. But although this great change has been
brought about by railway enterprise, the gorge is still uninhabited, and
has lost little of its grandeur; for when the puny train, with its
accompanying white cloud, has disappeared round one of the great bluffs,
there is nothing left but the two pairs of shining rails, laid for long
distances almost on the floor of the ravine. But though there are steep
gradients to be climbed, and the engine labours heavily, there is
scarcely sufficient time to get any idea of the astonishing scenery from
the windows of the train, and you can see nothing of the huge expanses
of moorland stretching away from the precipices on either side. So that
we, who would learn something of this region, must make the journey on
foot; for a bicycle would be an encumbrance when crossing the heather,
and there are many places where a horse would be a source of danger. The
sides of the valley are closely wooded for the first seven or eight
miles north of Pickering, but the surrounding country gradually loses