Though, it is true, the
semicircle of rock no longer impeded the sight; this object we now
saw nearly laterally rising up like a spectral arch, spray and foam
above it, and water rushing below. "That is a bridge rather for
ysprydoedd (9) to pass over than men," said I.
"It is," said the woman; "but I once saw a man pass over it."
"How did he get up?" said I. "The sides are quite steep and
slippery."
"He wriggled to the sides like a llysowen, (10) till he got to the
top, when he stood upright for a minute, and then slid down on the
other side."
"Was he any one from these parts?" said I.
"He was not. He was a dyn dieithr, a Russian; one of those with
whom we are now at war."
"Was there as much water tumbling then as now?"
"More, for there had fallen more rain."
"I suppose the torrent is sometimes very dreadful?" said I.
"It is indeed, especially in winter; for it is then like a sea, and
roars like thunder or a mad bull."
After I had seen all I wished of the cataract, the woman asked me
to come to the house and take some refreshment. I followed her to
a neat little room where she made me sit down and handed me a bowl
of butter-milk. On the table was a book in which she told me it
was customary for individuals who visited the cataract to insert
their names. I took up the book which contained a number of names
mingled here and there with pieces of poetry. Amongst these
compositions was a Welsh englyn on the Rhyadr, which, though
incorrect in its prosody, I thought stirring and grand. I copied
it, and subjoin it with a translation which I made on the spot.
"Crychiawg, ewynawg anian - yw y Rhyadr
Yn rhuo mal taran;
Colofn o dwr, gloyw-dwr glan,
Gorwyllt, un lliw ag arian."
Foaming and frothing from mountainous height,
Roaring like thunder the Rhyadr falls;
Though its silvery splendour the eye may delight,
Its fury the heart of the bravest appals.
CHAPTER LXXI
Wild Moors - The Guide - Scientific Discourse - The Land of Arthur
- The Umbrella - Arrival at Bala.
WHEN I had rested myself and finished the buttermilk, I got up, and
making the good woman a small compensation for her civility,
inquired if I could get to Bala without returning to Llan Rhyadr.
"Oh yes," said she, "if you cross the hills for about five miles
you will find yourself upon a road which will take you straight to
Bala."
"Is there anyone here," said I, "who will guide me over the hills,
provided I pay him for his trouble?"
"Oh yes," said she, "I know one who will be happy to guide you
whether you pay him or not."
She went out and presently returned with a man about thirty-five,
stout and well-looking, and dressed in a waggoner's frock.
