e be in this herd? Fifty, perhaps
more. Nor is this a single isolated instance, but dozens more of
such herds may be found in this true old English forest, all running
free and unconstrained.

But the sun gets low. Following this broad green drive, it leads us
past vistas of endless glades, going no man knows where, into
shadow and gloom; past grand old oaks; past places where the edge
of a veritable wilderness comes up to the trees--a wilderness of
gnarled hawthorn trunks of unknown ages, of holly with shining
metallic-green leaves, and hazel-bushes. Past tall trees bearing the
edible chestnut in prickly clusters; past maples which in a little
while will be painted in crimson and gold, with the deer peeping out
of the fern everywhere, and once, perhaps, catching a glimpse of a
shy, beautiful, milk-white doe. Past a huge hollow trunk in the
midst of a greensward, where merry picnic parties under the 'King
Oak' tread the social quadrille, or whirl waltzes to the harp and
flute. For there are certain spots even in this grand solitude
consecrated to Cytherea and Bacchus, as he is now worshipped in
champagne. And where can graceful forms look finer, happy eyes more
bright, than in this natural ballroom, under its incomparable roof
of blue, supported upon living columns of stately trees? Still
onward, into a gravel carriage-road now, returning by degrees to
civilization, and here, with happy judgment, the hand of man has
aided Nature. Far as the eye can see extends an avenue of beech,
passing right through the forest. The tall, smooth trunks rise up to
a great height, and then branch overhead, looking like the roof of a
Gothic cathedral. The growth is so regular and so perfect that the
comparison springs unbidden to the lip, and here, if anywhere, that
order of architecture might have taken its inspiration. There is a
continuous Gothic arch of green for miles, beneath which one may
drive or walk, as in the aisles of a forest abbey. But it is
impossible to even mention all the beauties of this place within so
short a space. It must suffice to say that the visitor may walk for
whole days in this great wood, and never pass the same spot twice.
No gates or jealous walls will bar his progress. As the fancy seizes
him, so he may wander. If he has a taste for archaeological studies,
especially the prehistoric, the edge of the forest melts away upon
downs that bear grander specimens than can be seen elsewhere.
Stonehenge and Avebu