THE VALLEYS OF THE LYN 
129 
steeply to the water as to have necessitated the erection of 
a wall, which protects the precipitous edge. A little further 
on a stream drops out from the rocky hill on our left, which 
now, winding round a rocky corner, begins to descend 
towards Lynmouth. On our right, rolling along in its 
boidder bed at the foot of the steep hanks, which fall sheer 
to the water, is the Lyn, its clear stream boiling in foam over 
the rocks which block up its course. Now for some dis- 
tance the stream brawls along through a wider channel, 
falling, foam-crested, over blocks of mossy stone, some of 
the boulders rising high and dry above the water. Studded 
here and there in mid-stream are tiny green islets covered 
with trees. Still winding and twining along between the 
hilly sides of the valley rolls the Lyn. On our left, starting 
up from the wayside are furze and Fern -crowned rocks — 
Male Fern spreading out shuttlecock fashion from moist 
.crannies, whilst on the right of the road, and to the left of 
the river, is a grassy plateau almost level with the stream, 
studded with Fern and huge blocks of stone. 
After two or three more turnings in our charming road 
— the river meanwhile continuing in company with us to 
travel along on its boulder-strewn bed — we come, on round- 
ing a sharp point in our route, in sight of Lynton, its houses 
resting on the crest of the hill that rises up away in front, 
and appears to traverse and terminate the valley through 
which we have been rambling. Below the houses the hill 
is beautifully wooded, its base descending to the extreme 
point, where, by the river bed, the glen terminates. Just 
at this spot some houses lying at the foot of the wood- 
crowned hill are enchantingly perched on the hanks of 
the river, their gardens stretching down to the verge of 
the brawling, foaming, boulder-strewn stream. 
Entering Lynmouth, the central point of attraction for the 
lover of Ferns, is Glen-Lyn, the whole of which is enclosed and 
