68 SCENERY ON THE WAY. 



saw before, and in all likelihood never shall see again ; 

 indeed a second such would not produce a similar 

 effect. There was something so new to me, a Southron, 

 in the combination of perfect peace and calm, the 

 thorough security of the frequenters of the wood, the 

 wildness of the district around, and yet the Devonshire- 

 like character of the lane we were following, that I felt 

 quite spell bound. My companion, too, though no 

 stranger to the scene, was not thoroughly proof against 

 its influence ; and for some distance we drove on in 

 silence, till a sudden turn brought us unexpectedly on 

 a small herd of roe quietly grazing in the road. 

 Though not more than a hundred yards away, they 

 exhibited no signs of alarm, but merely springing 

 gracefully to the top of the bank, one by one took a 

 steady survey of us as we approached, and then dis- 

 appeared within the covert. 



Shortly after this the nature of the scenery changed. 

 Our road lay along the banks of an inland frith or arm 

 of the sea, running up the country some twenty miles. 

 In some parts the shore rose quickly to an elevation of 

 fifteen hundred feet, in others receding into open moors 

 stretching far away to our left. Where the rise was 

 abrupt the road was blasted and cut in the solid rock, 

 at a height of about one hundred and fifty feet above 

 the water. The rocks were covered with the mountain- 

 ash, dwarf oaks, and stunted birch, whose roots found 

 a scanty hold and meagre subsistence among their 

 fissures and interstices; while about them were congre- 

 gated, like so many satellites, tufts of various kinds of 

 ferns and lichens; the ivy and the stagshorn moss 

 hanging down in graceful festoons, or the foxglove 

 ringing its many bells, glistening with the morning 

 dew. Here and there a giant pine reared his tall head 



