TWO BRIDGES. 411 



doubtless a fine example of high art, representing- a 

 robed and bearded personage, life-size, now, from the 

 painting having never been varnished, and the colours 

 having fled, presents an appearance ludicrously ghastly. 

 An antique ostler, curiously in keeping with the asso- 

 ciations of the place, appearing, we inquired our way 

 to the wood, the object of our search, while the driver 

 dived into the recesses of the bar, to get " summat." 

 The man of horses, with a ready civility, and a free 

 use of " yir 'annor," which suggested a Milesian edu- 

 cation, pointed up the valley of the Dart to the slope 

 full in sight, at what appeared to be only a few 

 hundred yards distant, where a very circumscribed 

 thicket of scrubby furze (so it looked) was growing. 

 "An' that," said he, "is Wistman's Wood ; an' it's 

 a mile and a half's walkin'." 



My little son and I tramped away up the valley, 

 the scrub still in sight every step of the way, which 

 ever grew wilder and wilder. Through a dreary 

 farm-yard we post, and the world is behind us. Our 

 course is parallel to the Dart, which purls and rustles 

 below, under the shadow, for some half-mile or so 

 from the bridge, of magnificent dark beeches. The 

 utter absence of recognisable objects makes distances 

 strangely deceptive. Still wilder and wilder grows 

 the moor ; here and there we suddenly find our feet 

 press a shaking bog. No sign of animal life, but a 

 pretty little butterfly,* which is numerous. Yes ; in 



* Hipparchia pamphilvs ; a variety much paler than the ordi- 

 nary condition. 



