On the north-easterly side the hill rises slopingly, but towards the south and west it shoots up abruptly from the plain, presenting a mass of jagged perpendicular rock three hundred and sixty feet in height. Seen from the distance, it looks as if it had been upheaved by some convulsive effort of Nature, and then toppled over, the foundations standing up endways. Keeping to the left, we ascend by a path steep and rough, and stony withal. Brushwood and bracken, and the wild, old, wandering bramble border the way; and now and then a timid sheep rushes out from some shady nook and gazes wonderingly at us as we go by. The turf in places is short and slippery, for the rabbits keep it closely cropped; and were it not for a fragment of jutting rock, or the branch of a tree that occasionally proffers its friendly aid, we should find the ascent at times difficult and toilsome. Little more than half way up we come to the outer line of the fortifications, where a small lodge has been erected, through which we gain admission into the dismantled interior. The ruin is complete, and at the first glance presents only the appearance of crumbling masses of shapeless masonry, that, having outlived the necessities which called them into existence, time has clothed with saddest beauty. The ivy spreads its roots and clings with fond tenacity, the long grass waves, and the nettles grow in rank profusion; yet the remains are so far perfect that the searching eye of the archæologist can readily discern their purpose, determine the plan, and reconstruct in every detail. The outer ballium, which is pierced by a few embrasures, extends in the form of an irregular semicircle round the sloping sides, and where the cliff is not perpendicular, about five or six acres being comprehended within the area. The entrance is so narrow that only one or two persons can pass through at a time—a feature that indicates the rude and lawless period of its erection, when strength and security were the chief objects aimed at. It has been guarded by a square tower, and the remains of seven other towers or bastions, mostly round, and similar in appearance to the Moorish towers which became so general in England after the return of the barons from the Crusades, occur at irregular intervals. The court itself is a large, rough pasture, broken and uneven. A pair of kangaroos are disporting themselves among the moss-grown fragments, and a few deer are quietly browsing upon the green turf; but there is no picturesque assemblage of ruins, or trace of any previously-existing building, though it was once a busy hive of life and work. Nothing now remains but a few weedy heaps of masonry, the shattered keep, and the small inner bailey which occupies the highest and most inaccessible part of the rock, covering an area an acre in extent.