48 Wild Life in a Southern County 



and below two more turf-grown tumuli, low and shaped 

 like an inverted bowl. Many more have been ploughed 

 down, doubtless, in the course of the years : sometimes 

 still, as the share travels through the soil there is a sudden 

 jerk, and a scraping sound of iron against stone. 



The ploughman eagerly tears away the earth, and 

 moves the stone to find a thin jar, as he thinks — in fact, a 

 funeral urn. Like all uneducated people, in the far East 

 as well as in the West, he is imbued with the idea of 

 finding hidden treasure, and breaks the urn in pieces to 

 discover — nothing ; it is empty. He will carry the frag- 

 ments home to the farm, when, after a moment's curiosity, 

 they will be thrown aside with potsherds, and finally used 

 to mend the floor of the cowpen. The track winds away 

 yet further, over hill after hill ; but a summer's day is not 

 long enough to trace it to the end. 



In the narrow valley, far below the frowning ramparts 

 of the ancient fort that has been more specially described, 

 a beautiful spring breaks forth. Three irregularly circular 

 green spots, brighter in colour than the dry herbage 

 around, mark the outlets of the crevices in the earth 

 through which the clear water finds its way to the surface. 

 Three tiny threads of water, each accompanied by its 

 riband of verdant grasses, meander downwards some few 

 yards, and then unite and form a little stream. Then the 

 water in its channel first becomes visible, glistening in the 

 sun; for at the sources the aquatic grasses bend over, 

 growing thickly, and hide it from view. But pressing 

 these down, and parting them with the hand, you may 

 trace the exact place where it rises, gently oozing forth 

 without a sound. 



Lower down, where the streamlet is stronger and has 

 worn a groove — now rushing over a floor of tiny flints, 



