392 DARTMOOR AND THE DART. 



its curving drive, looks from this height just like a 

 villa garden with its gravel walk. Thence the charm- 

 ing river is seen, white with foam (I unconsciously 

 listened for its babblings), meandering away to the 

 south, till the tall woods conceal it. There too was 

 Buckland Mansion, dwindled to a toy-house, and the 

 gray church tower rising from the embosoming trees 

 a little behind it. Beyond and around were the map- 

 like fields, of many hues, chequered out with hedges, 

 and far on the south-west horizon the blue Brent Tor. 

 In the foreground to the south there is Answell or 

 AVell Kock, a very remarkable Tor, crowning an 

 eminence considerably inferior in elevation to that on 

 which we stand. Viewed from hence, it takes the 

 form of a colossal lion couchant, with a second granite 

 mass, that looks like an armadillo, or, if you please, 

 the great fossil tortoise of the Siwalik, marching up 

 behind him. The buildings and tall shaft-works of 

 Druids' Mine, a little to the left, stand out bold and 

 prominent. All the east is dim, and obscurely empty ; 

 but on the north rises Hay Tor, a fine purple cone of 

 lofty stature, and the wide gray moor stretching away 

 to the westward, a dreary, tabular, unvarying mass. 

 The sides and slopes around our feet were spotted 

 with a few semi-wild sheep, which we fondly con- 

 cluded made the well-flavoured Dartmoor mutton, 

 that the reader doubtless wots of; but the driver 

 subsequently undeceived us as to this point. The 

 true breed is found only on the moor proper, which 

 we have not yet come to. 



