One Mad Sheep
On the second day of walking in the Peak District, the strain began to show a little; our bags started to feel heavy, and the weather continuously alternated between just a little too hot and a little too cold.
Having been chased from our camp site by angry peacocks, we continued north over protected moorland. Only a few kilometres on we came across a circle of nine upright stones known as the Nine Ladies, an ancient druid circle believed to be about 4000 years old. As well as being ancient and mystical, they made an excellent place to sit and eat the mornings ration of dried fruit. Further on, we encountered numerous deer and sheep, which kept their distance for the most part, and the views from the hills were idyllic.
Around lunchtime we arrived at the village of Edensor, not far from Chatsworth house. The village was beautiful; elegant stone houses and pristinely cultivated gardens clustered around a tall church. We ate lunch on the village green, watching the tourists mill back and forth. A young white cat came over and posed for the camera. We then moved on, as the rest of the way was uphill and we wanted to set up camp before dusk.
The site we pitched the tents on was nothing more than a field on a rather windswept hillside, but it was not the weather which we should have been wary of. Generally I view sheep as gentle, docile creatures that mind their own business and eat grass. But the sheep we encountered was different. He was larger than average, and had a roguish glint in his eye. His first attack took us by surprise; as we were cooking he attacked another group to the left of us, head butting them and stealing a substantial mouthful of pot noodle before retreating to a safe distance. The sheep then proceeded to charge around the camp site in search of further sustenance, possibly in the form of small children. We took this as our cue to retreat into the tent for the night.