We also discovered two or three other strange
plants, the Welsh names of which our guide told us, and which were
curious and descriptive enough. He took us home by a romantic path
which we had never before seen, and on our way pointed out to us a
small house in which he said he was born.
The day after, finding myself on the banks of the Dee in the upper
part of the valley, I determined to examine the Llam Lleidyr or
Robber's Leap, which I had heard spoken of on a former occasion. A
man passing near me with a cart I asked him where the Robber's Leap
was. I spoke in English, and with a shake of his head he replied
"Dim Saesneg." On my putting the question to him in Welsh,
however, his countenance brightened up.
"Dyna Llam Lleidyr, sir!" said he, pointing to a very narrow part
of the stream a little way down.
"And did the thief take it from this side?" I demanded.
"Yes, sir, from this side," replied the man.
I thanked him, and passing over the dry part of the river's bed,
came to the Llam Lleidyr. The whole water of the Dee in the dry
season gurgles here through a passage not more than four feet
across, which, however, is evidently profoundly deep, as the water
is as dark as pitch.
