120 
THE FERN WORLD 
Descending from the hill, on the road to Lynmouth, a 
turning to our left, a short distance from the little village of 
Countisbury, takes us to Watersmeet, that part of the 
Lyn Valley where the Brendon Kiver joins the stream of the 
East Lyn. Standing at the point where the waters blend, 
one feels almost overwhelmed by the grandeur of the scene, 
surrounded as we are on all sides by a rare combination of 
natural beauty. Above and behind us screening trees shut 
out the sunlight, and almost exclude the blue sky. In front 
the last of the chain of hills which divides the valleys of the 
East Lyn and the Brendon Water rises steeply against the 
sky, clothed on all sides with a deuse growth of trees, which 
come down to meet both streams, ending in a point at the 
junction of the waters. Here is a cluster of moss-covered 
stones, which kiss the rushing streams as they blend. On 
our right is the stream of the East Lyn ; on our left the 
Brendon Water. Of each we can see only a short reach, a 
few yards in length. The curve of the dividing hill in front 
of and above us hides the further course of the stream from 
view. Tumbling and foaming over the mossy stones in its 
shallow and winding bed, the Brendon Water rolls noisily to 
the point of junction, and to the hiss of the watery impact is 
added the sound of rushing, falling waters on the right, where, 
within a space of some seventy yards, the stream of the East 
Lyn is broken into three cascades ere it reaches the point at 
which the twin waters commingle. 
No art could adequately represent such a combination of 
loveliness as here meets the eye. The scene is a creation 
of dreamy wonder and delight such as Nature alone can 
produce. Let us move a little to the right of the spot where 
we were standing, to get a peep at both streams. In a line 
with the stream of the East Lyn, huge moss-covered stones 
tempt us to seat ourselves. We have said that for some 
seventy yards only can the course of the stream be seen. 
