"Do you live alone?" said I.
"No; mother lives here."
"Any Saesneg?"
"No," said she with a smile, "S'sneg of no use here."
Her face looked the picture of kindness. I was now indeed in Wales
amongst the real Welsh. I went on some way. Suddenly there was a
moaning sound, and rain came down in torrents. Seeing a deserted
cottage on my left I went in. There was fodder in it, and it
appeared to serve partly as a barn, partly as a cow-house. The
rain poured upon the roof, and I was glad I had found shelter.
Close behind this place a small brook precipitated itself down
rocks in four successive falls.
The rain having ceased I proceeded, and after a considerable time
reached the top of the pass. From thence I had a view of the
valley and lake of Bala, the lake looking like an immense sheet of
steel. A round hill, however, somewhat intercepted the view of the
latter. The scene in my immediate neighbourhood was very desolate;
moory hillocks were all about me of a wretched russet colour; on my
left, on the very crest of the hill up which I had so long been
toiling, stood a black pyramid of turf, a pole on the top of it.
The road now wore nearly due west down a steep descent. Arran was
slightly to the north of me. I, however, soon lost sight of it, as
I went down the farther side of the hill, which lies over against
it to the south-east. The sun, now descending, began to shine out.
The pass down which I was now going was yet wilder than the one up
which I had lately come. Close on my right was the steep hill's
side out of which the road or path had been cut, which was here and
there overhung by crags of wondrous forms; on my left was a very
deep glen, beyond which was a black, precipitous, rocky wall, from
a chasm near the top of which tumbled with a rushing sound a
slender brook, seemingly the commencement of a mountain stream,
which hurried into a valley far below towards the west. When
nearly at the bottom of the descent I stood still to look around
me. Grand and wild was the scenery. On my left were noble green
hills, the tops of which were beautifully gilded by the rays of the
setting sun. On my right a black, gloomy, narrow valley or glen
showed itself; two enormous craggy hills of immense altitude, one
to the west and the other to the east of the entrance; that to the
east terminating in a peak. The background to the north was a wall
of rocks forming a semicircle, something like a bent bow with the
head downward; behind this bow, just in the middle, rose the black
loaf of Arran. A torrent tumbled from the lower part of the
semicircle, and after running for some distance to the south turned
to the west, the way I was going.
Observing a house a little way within the gloomy vale I went
towards it, in the hope of finding somebody in it who could give me
information respecting this wild locality. As I drew near the door
two tall men came forth, one about sixty, and the other about half
that age. The elder had a sharp, keen look; the younger a lumpy
and a stupid one. They were dressed like farmers. On my saluting
them in English the elder returned my salutation in that tongue,
but in rather a gruff tone. The younger turned away his head and
said nothing.
"What is the name of this house?" said I, pointing to the building.
"The name of it," said the old man, "is Ty Mawr."
"Do you live in it?" said I.
"Yes, I live in it."
"What waterfall is that?" said I, pointing to the torrent tumbling
down the crag at the farther end of the gloomy vale.
"The fountain of the Royal Dyfi."
"Why do you call the Dyfy royal?" said I.
"Because it is the king of the rivers in these parts."
"Does the fountain come out of a rock?"
"It does not; it comes out of a lake, a llyn."
"Where is the llyn?"
"Over that crag at the foot of Aran Vawr."
"Is it a large lake?"
"It is not; it is small."
"Deep?"
"Very."
"Strange things in it?"
"I believe there are strange things in it." His English now became
broken.
"Crocodiles?"
"I do not know what cracadailes be."
"Efync?"
"Ah! No, I do not tink there be efync dere. Hu Gadarn in de old
time kill de efync dere and in all de lakes in Wales. He draw them
out of the water with his ychain banog his humpty oxen, and when he
get dem out he burn deir bodies on de fire, he good man for dat."
"What do you call this allt?" said I, looking up to the high
pinnacled hill on my right.
"I call that Tap Nyth yr Eryri."
"Is not that the top nest of the eagles?"
"I believe it is. Ha! I see you understand Welsh."
"A little," said I. "Are there eagles there now?"
"No, no eagle now."
"Gone like avanc?"
"Yes, gone like avanc, but not so long. My father see eagle on Tap
Nyth, but my father never see avanc in de llyn."
"How far to Dinas?"
"About three mile."
"Any thieves about?"
"No, no thieves here, but what come from England," and he looked at
me with a strange, grim smile.
"What is become of the red-haired robbers of Mawddwy?"
"Ah," said the old man, staring at me, "I see you are a Cumro. The
red-haired thieves of Mawddwy! I see you are from these parts."
"What's become of them?"
"Oh, dead, hung.
