SUMMER IN SOMERSET, 271 
Following the current downwards at last the river 
for a while flows in quietness, broad and smooth. A 
trout leaps for a fly with his tail curved in the air, full a 
foot out of water. Trout watch behind sunken stones, 
and shoot to and fro as insects droop in their flight and 
appear about to fall. So clear is the water and so 
brightly illuminated that the fish are not easily seen— 
for vision depends on contrast—but in a minute I find a 
way to discover them by their shadows. The black 
shadow of a trout is distinct upon the bottom of the 
river,and guides the eye to the spot ; then looking higher 
in the transparent water there is the fish. It was curious 
to see these black shadows darting to and. fro as if them- 
selves animated and without bodies, for if the trout 
darted before being observed the light concealed him in 
motion. Some of the trout-came up from under Torre- 
steps, a singular structure which here connects the 
shores of the stream. Every one has seen a row of 
stepping-stones across a shallow brook ; now pile other 
stones on each of these, forming buttresses, and lay flat 
stones like unhewn planks from buttress to buttress, and 
you have the plan of this primitive bridge. It has a 
megalithic appearance, as if associated with the age of 
tude stone monuments. They say its origin is doubtful; 
there can be no doubt of the loveliness of the spot. The 
Barle comes with his natural rush and fierceness under 
the unhewn stone planking, then deepens, and there 
overhanging a black pool—for the shadow was so deep 
as to be black—grew a large bunch of marsh-marigolds 
in fullest flower, the broad golden cups almost resting 
on the black water. The bridge is not intended for 
wheels, and though it is as firm as the rock, foot pas- 
sengers have to look at their steps, as the great planks, 
ficcked with lichen at the edges, are not all level. The 
