FERNY COMBES. 
53 
and form the Plvm. Prom the bridge yon see on 
all sides fine old oak-trees, mossy rocks, and dash¬ 
ing waters. 
We lean over the bridge to admire the roaring 
river, when behold, beneath us but out of reach, a 
magnificent J?olypodium vulgare bifidum tempts us 
to risk our necks for its possession. We strug¬ 
gle to gain it, and by the aid of a crooked stick we 
capture a few fronds; but the finest piece, after 
having been carefully detached from its holding, 
totters, falls, into the foaming torrent! O ye 
Biver Nymphs, have pity on two enthusiastic fern 
hunters, and hold their prey until they have time 
to descend to the bed of your stream! We descend; 
we leap from rock to rock, the water boiling and 
surging round. Joy! our treasure is safe, wedged 
in between a block of stone and the pier of the 
bridge. 
We now tried to force our way up the valley of 
the Meavy, but a thick underwood soon caused us 
to relinquish our design and turn towards the valley 
of the Cad, a glorious place for scenery. The right- 
hand side is bleak, bare, and grey with granite, the 
left covered with woods, except in one place, where 
the Dewerstone rises sheer and abrupt from the 
bed of the river, a grand and noble object. On the 
top of this cliff the Dartmoor poet Carrington used 
