WISTMAN'S WOOD 187 



midday, from sunset, or the radiance of the moon. 

 Here great cloud -shadows roll and spread, deepen 

 and die, climb the steep, breast the stone, and adorn 

 each undulation with flying garments, that vary in their 

 texture from opacity of royal purple to the film and 

 dream-colour of brief hazes drawn between earth and 

 sun. Now the distance shines golden in a frame of 

 shade ; anon darkness spreads to the blue horizon, 

 and the river and adjacent hills are all aglow ; then 

 light and shadow dislimn and interlimn upon the great 

 heaths and hills. Detail, invisible in sunshine, wakes 

 over the scattered stone, and sphagnum-clad bogs 

 gleam under cloud-shadows, while elsewhere, as the 

 veil is torn away and the light bathes all again, 

 new visions of rounded elevations, wild places, and 

 solitary stones start into sight upon each sunny plane. 

 Detail of the spring gorse, now jade-green ; flame of 

 the autumnal furze ; light of the ling ; feast of tones 

 and undertones ; mosaic of all tawny and rufous colours 

 are here ; and the scene changes its hue beneath each 

 shadow, even as the river's song changes its cadence 

 at the pressure of the breeze, waxing and waning 

 fitfully. 



The wood of Wistman partakes of these many 

 harmonies — adds its sudden green to the hillside — 

 lies there a home of mystery, a cradle of legend, a 

 thing of old time, unique and unexampled, save in 

 Devon itself, all England over. 



Grey tors surround this valley of Western Dart, and 

 granite climbs to the sky-line, except only where the 



