26 DAYS STOLEN FOR SPORT 



CHAPTER III 



A girl's mad ride — THE SIMONSBATH PONY— WE 

 BEG A CUP OF TEA AND GET A GREAT SURPRISE — 

 ON THE MOOR. 



Ten days had flovvTi and we were seated in a spring 

 market cart bound for Simonsbath. Our road for 

 a mile or so was through narrow lanes bound in by 

 high flowering hedges, which the trotting strides of 

 the useful cob would soon have left behind had it not 

 been that the scattered dwellings are mostly built 

 where the road makes its sharpest bends, with their 

 white sides jutting out as if to bar the way. Steady 

 your pace you must. Certainly this gives a chance 

 of passing greetings and a view of the old-world gardens 

 where flowers of every colour make a brave display, 

 which the bordering hedgeside blossoms do their best 

 to rival. 



This ver\^ lane has sweets that all admire, 

 The rambling suckling and the vigorous brier; 

 No fostering hand they need, no sheltering wall, 

 They spring uncultured and they bloom for all. 



Steep hills had to be encountered which, v/hen climbed, 

 gave us opportunities to look down and back upon 

 the scenes' where we had been so joyful and tall^ of 

 the homely people we had left behind. Then came 

 a detour round the height whereon are remnants of 

 a camp that tells of our Roman conquerors; and, 

 soon after, Parracombe came in sight and a view of 

 Holwell Castle. From Blackmoor Gate to Challa- 

 combe the road grew more and more deserted, but 

 ever varying. The long climb to Breakneck Hole 

 demanded our walking until we reached the high, level 



