hat appeared to be an ancient
trench, thickly overgrown with grass, which seemed to encircle the upper
part of the hill. It was a Roman circumvallation. The grass was gemmed
with wild pansies, yellow, "freaked with jet," and fragrant, some of which
we gathered for a memorial of the spot.

In descending to the valley, we came upon a little rivulet among hazels
and hollies and young oaks, as wild and merry as a mountain brook of our
own country. Cowslips and wild hyacinths were in flower upon its banks,
and blue violets as scentless as our own. We followed it until it fell
into the larger stream, when we crossed a bridge and arrived at a white
house, among trees just putting out their leaves with plots of flowers in
the lawn before it. Here we received a cordial welcome from a hospitable
and warmhearted Scotchman.

After dinner our host took us up the side of the mountain which forms the
northern barrier of Edale. We walked through a wretched little village,
consisting of low cottages built of stone, one or two of which were
alehouses; passed the parsonage, pleasantly situated on the edge of a
little brook, and then the parson himself, a young man just from
Cambridge, who was occupied in sketching one of the picturesque points in
the scenery about his new habitation. A few minutes active climbing
brought us among the heath, formming a thick elastic carpet under our
feet, on which we were glad to seat ourselves for a moment's rest. We
heard the cuckoo upon every side, and when we rose to pursue our walk we
frequently startled the moor-fowl, singly or in flocks. The time allowed
by the game laws for shooting them had not yet arrived, but in the mean
time they had been unmercifully hunted by the hawks, for we often found
the remains of such as had been slain by these winged sportsmen, lying in
our path as we ascended. We found on the top of the hill, a level of
several rods in width, covered to a considerable depth with peat, the
produce of the decayed roots of the heath, which has sprung and perished
for centuries. It was now soft with the abundant rains which had fallen,
and seamed with deep muddy cracks, over which we made our way with
difficulty. At length we came to a spot from which we could look down into
another valley. "That," said our host, "is the Woodlands." We looked and
saw a green hollow among the hills like Edale, but still more bare of
trees, though like Edale it had its little stream at the bottom.

The n