protected by the terrible forest-laws, then in full force: and the
hardier huntsman might follow the wolf to his lair in the mountains;
might spear the boar in the oaken glades, or the otter on the river's
brink; might unearth the badger or the fox, or smite the fierce
cat-a-mountain with a quarrel from his bow. A nobler victim sometimes,
also, awaited him in the shape of a wild mountain bull, a denizen of the
forest, and a remnant of the herds that had once browsed upon the hills,
but which had almost all been captured, and removed to stock the park of
the Abbot of Whalley. The streams and pools were full of fish: the
stately heron frequented the meres; and on the craggy heights built the
kite, the falcon, and the kingly eagle.

There were eight watchers by the beacon. Two stood apart from the
others, looking to the right and the left of the hill. Both were armed
with swords and arquebuses, and wore steel caps and coats of buff. Their
sleeves were embroidered with the five wounds of Christ, encircling the
name of Jesus--the badge of the Pilgrimage of Grace. Between them, on
the verge of the mountain, was planted a great banner, displaying a
silver cross, the chalice, and the Host, together with an ecclesiastical
figure, but wearing a helmet instead of a mitre, and holding a sword in
place of a crosier, with the unoccupied hand pointing to the two towers
of a monastic structure, as if to intimate that he was armed for its
defence. This figure, as the device beneath it showed, represented John
Paslew, Abbot of Whalley, or, as he styled himself in his military
capacity, Earl of Poverty.

There were eight watchers by the beacon. Two have been described. Of the
other six, two were stout herdsmen carrying crooks, and holding a couple
of mules, and a richly-caparisoned war-horse by the bridle. Near them
stood a broad-shouldered, athletic young man, with the fresh complexion,