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Holne forms the extreme eastern end of a long ridge that terminates to the west in Down Tor. This hog's back stands over 1,500 feet above the sea, and is the watershed. From it stream the Avon, the Erme, the Yealm, and the Plym in a southerly direction, and north of it are the West Dart and the Swincombe river. It is a rounded back of moor, without granite tors, thickly sown with bogs. But there is a track, the Sandy Way, that threads these morasses from Holne, and leads to Childe's Tomb, a kistvaen, with a cross near it.

The story is well known.

A certain Childe, a hunter, lost his way in winter in this wilderness. Snow fell thick and his horse could go no further.

"In darkness blind, he could not find
   Where he escape might gain,
 Long time he tried, no track espied,
   His labours all in vain.

"His knife he drew, his horse he slew
   As on the ground it lay;
 He cut full deep, therein to creep,
   And tarry till the day.

"The winds did blow, fast fell the snow,
   And darker grew the night,
 Then well he wot he hope might not
   Again to see the light.

"So with his finger dipp'd in blood,
   He scrabbled on the stones—
 'This is my will, God it fulfil,
   And buried be my bones.

" ' Whoe'er it be that findeth me,
   And brings me to a grave;
 The lands that now to me belong
   In Plymstock he shall have.' "