DiNNABRIDGE POUND. 407 



only a few rods. We ford Oxlake Brook, a little 

 feeder of the West Dart, which latter we see winding 

 among the hills at our left, running nearly parallel 

 with the road, and forming brilliant little pools here 

 and there under the midday sun. The slopes from 

 Sherbiton are covered with boulders, which may be 

 ruins, but which appear, from their wild confusion 

 and ruggedness, to lie where they were protruded in 

 some primeval convulsion of nature. Their number 

 imparts an unusual aspect of savage desolation to the 

 scene. Here, on a granite block, was sitting a yellow- 

 hammer preening its bright plumage in the sun, and 

 all unconscious of sadness. The local name for this 

 familiar little bird is " gold-gladdie ;" a pretty appel- 

 lation, well suited to the appearance of a gay-coloured 

 bird in a lonely and desolate region. 



Our road now is bounded on one side by the wall 

 of Dinnabridge Pound. Within the enclosure near 

 the gate there is a lichened chair of granite, evidently 

 of great antiquity, which tradition asserts to have 

 been brought hither from Crockern Tor. The Pound 

 itself is comparatively modern ; it is a large enclo- 

 sure, surrounded by one of the dry-stone walls so 

 universal here. It owes its origin to the -customs 

 of the moor. The entire forest is farmed out under 

 the Duchy of Cornwall to certain persons termed 

 moormen, who receive cattle for pasture, affixing 

 to each animal " the moorman's mark." On one 

 day in the season, of which he gives no notice, the 

 moorman drives all the cattle on his quarter to a 



