William Crossing, in his 1900 'Stones of Dartmoor' gave the following explanation of the stones of Stall Moor.
One Sunday afternoon a group of girls set off across the moor - once out of sight of the farmhouses they began to dance. This was of course extremely naughty as it was the sabbath day, when they should have been doing good or resting, not enjoying themselves. They accosted a young man and invited him to dance with them. Cheekily he refused to dance, saying that he would only play 'Kiss in the Ring'. So the girls formed a circle and (one imagines) they played by him chosing one of them by touching her shoulder, then running off round the ring until she caught and kissed him. However things got a bit out of hand and the girls started grabbing and kissing him out of turn, so he demurely ran off, and they followed, running in a long line. As is usually the way, these transgressors of the Sabbath got turned into stone for their behaviour, and you can see them as the stones of the circle and the row. William Crossing rather bizarrely suggests that perhaps they were petrified for failing to abide by the rules of a game. So no cheating next time you're playing ludo.
(I have compiled this from a summary of Crossing's original story in Westwood and Simpson's 'Lore of the Land' (2005))
And here it is! The uprights of the cairn circle come into view – empty, miles from anywhere, this is a real treat of a circle. Some of the stones lean alarmingly, the ground is wet and muddy around the stones, but I'm grinning from ear to ear. Without doubt worth the effort of the long walk, the circle is a gem that I doubt has many visitors, except the cows that graze a little way off and pay me no attention at all. Coming to places like this makes the heart sing, makes me feel glad to be alive and all the transitory worries of life seem so far behind. After a good while spent circling the site, then sitting in the ring (devoid of much sign of a cairn, by the way) I am reluctantly reminded of the long walk back to Ivybridge and the further delights still to be had on the way and head off south. The stones hang crooked on the skyline behind me for a moment, before disappearing back into their timeless solitude. I hope to come back here again one day, for this is a wonderful circle.
I've joined the row less than a quarter of the way along its length from its southern terminus – it continues much further north, all the way up to Green Hill, making it the longest row on Dartmoor by some way. The stones of the row are minuscule to say the least, but there are a few notable individuals, such as a weirdly eroded one that stands more than twice as high as its neighbours, and a lovely row of three differently marked quartz stones next to a small brook that the row crosses. The stones get gradually bigger as they head south, where they disappear over the brow of the hill. By this point I am buzzing with anticipation as I have passed the furthest point out of my walk and am nearly at my main objective, tantalisingly close just over the ridge.
The cairn is large but ruinous, having been heavily dug into. It lies slightly to the west and uphill from the row, from where it commands good views over the Erme Valley and southwards towards the Dancers.