A very large barrow lies about a mile out of our track to the right hand; as it is somewhat different from the other barrows in the neighbourhood, we will briefly describe it.  It is a “long barrow,” with the two horns at one end that are usually associated with “long” barrows.  In the middle of the curve between these ends stands a great stone about five feet square, not very unlike our own gravestones, though worn by the rains of thousands of years.  The mound is surrounded by a double wall of masonry.  At the north end, when it was opened forty years ago, a chamber was found containing human bones.  It is supposed that this mound was the burying-place of a race which dwelt on Cotswold at least three thousand years ago.  From the nature of the stone implements found, it is conjectured that the people who raised it were unacquainted with the use of metal.

Now we will have a look at another barrow a few fields away.  This is a mound of a somewhat later age; for it was raised over the ashes of a body or bodies that had been cremated.  It was probably the Celts who raised this barrow.  The other day it was opened for a distinguished society of antiquaries to inspect; they found that in the centre were stones carefully laid, encircling a small chamber, whilst the outer portions were of ordinary rubble.  Nothing but lime-dust and dirt was found in the chamber; but in the course of thousands of years most of these barrows have probably been opened a good many times by Cotswold natives in search of “golden coffins” and other treasures.

There is a small, round underground chamber within a short distance of these barrows, which the natives consider to be a shepherd’s hut, put up about two centuries back, and before the country was enclosed, as a retreat to shelter the men who looked after the flocks.  It has been declared, however, by those who have studied the question of burial mounds, that it was built in very early times, and contained bodies that had not been cremated.  The antiquaries who came a short time back to view these remains describe it as “an underground chamber, circular in shape, and an excellent sample of dry walling.  The roof is dome-shaped, and gradually projects inwards.”  I narrowly escaped taking this “society” for a band of poachers; for when out shooting the other day, somebody remarked, “Look at all those fellows climbing over the wall of the fox-covert.”

Now the fox-covert is a very sacred institution in these parts; for it is a place of only four acres, standing isolated in the midst of a fine, open country—­so that no human being is allowed to enter therein save to “stop the earth” the night before hunting.  We rushed up in great haste, fully prepared for mortal combat with this gang of ruffians, until, when within a hundred yards, the thought crossed us that we had given leave to the Cotswold Naturalist Society to make a tour of inspection, and that one of the barrows was in our fox-covert.