caused him to multiply his strokes until he might make the orifice
thereof large enough to take out the pot, which his earnest desire made
not long a-doing; but as he thrust in his arm and fastened his hand
thereon he suddenly heard, or seemed to hear, the noise of the trampling
or treading of horses coming, as he thought, towards him, which caused
him to forbear and arise from the place, fearing the comers would take
his purchase from him (for he assured himself it was treasure); but
looking about every way to see what company this was, he saw neither
horse nor man in view. To the pot again he goes, and had the like
success a second time; and yet, looking all about, could ken nothing. At
the third time he brings it away, and therein only a few ashes and
bones, as if they had been of children, or the like. But the man,
whether by the fear, which yet he denied, or other cause, which I cannot
comprehend, in very short time after lost senses both of sight and
hearing, and in less than three months consuming died.'

This tale is followed by another, of a 'mystical sciencer,' and Westcote
finishes with the comment that the stories are 'not unfit tales for
winter nights when you roast crabs by the fire, whereof this parish
yields none, the climate is too cold, only the fine dainty fruits of
wortles and blackberries.'

A little to the north of Challacombe is the great hill of Chapman
Burrows, where stands a 'tall, lean slab of slate, the Longstone.' It is
nine feet high, and in the broadest part about two feet eight inches
wide. The history of the Longstone is unknown, but the suggestion has
been made that it may be an ancient relic, a menhir, and this view is
supported by the fact that about a dozen large tumuli lie on the slopes
around. One of these is between ten and twelve feet high and three
hundred feet round at the base. Burrows are found all over Exmoor. 'The
eye of reflection sees stand uninterrupted a number of simple sepulchres
of departed souls.... A morsel of earth now damps in silence the eclat
of noisy warriors, and the green turf serves as a sufficient shroud for
kings.'

By far the greatest part of Exmoor lies in Somerset, so that here one
must not wander far amongst great round hills, wide distances, and deep
combes. One has heard of strangers who have been disappointed by the
first sight of Exmoor, for its heights are not very evident. There are
no peaks, no sharply-cut isolated hills, nor any with a very