striking
outline, except Dunkery; but the whole moor is a tableland, across which
the coach road runs at a level from twelve hundred to fourteen hundred
feet above the sea: 'A bare rolling waste of moorland stretching away
into the eastern distance, like the ocean "heaving in long swells,"' and
large spaces of bracken, of bogs fringed with cotton-grass and rough
grass and whortleberries, among which rise little glittering streams
that splash their way down into the valleys beneath.

The sides of the glens leading from the borders of the moor are crowded
with endless masses of mountain-ashes, and whether the leaves make a
background to the flat creamy clusters of sweet, heavily scented flowers
or to great bunches of scarlet fruit, the long ranks give a very rich
effect.

Mr R. J. King has observed that Exmoor, 'still lonely and uncultivated,'
was probably at one time during the English conquests a boundary or
'mark,' 'always regarded as sacred and placed under the protection of
some deity or hero.' Amongst some very interesting remarks, he says that
the intermingling in Devonshire of the Celtic and Teutonic races 'may be
traced in folk-lore, not less distinctly than in dialect or in
features.... Sigmund the Waelsing, who among our English ancestors
represented Sigfried, the great hero of the Niebelungen-lied, has
apparently left his name to the deep pool of Simonsbath ... again, side
by side with traditions of King Arthur, to the parish of Simonsward in
Cornwall.'

It is difficult to imagine any moorlands destitute of superstition, and
plenty linger on Exmoor. Mr Page (writing in 1890) gave some instances
that have occurred comparatively lately. He speaks of 'overlooking' and
of witchcraft, and says that 'not many years since the villagers of
Withycombe, by no means an Ultima Thule among hamlets, firmly believed
that certain ancient dames had the power of turning themselves into
white rabbits.'

'An astonishing instance of belief in witchcraft' within his own
experience was one where an old woman--'as harmless a creature as can be
found in the country'--was believed by her neighbours to have not only
the evil eye, but also 'the power of turning herself into a black dog,
in which form she was met a short time since, during the twilight hour,
in a neighbouring lane. For these all-sufficient reasons the poor old
soul was, for a while, unable to obtain the services of a nurse during
an illness from which she is only no