Part 87 (1/2)

”And who lived there?” said I.

”I don't know, sir,” said the man. ”But I suppose they were grand people or they would not have lived in a castle.”

After ascending the hill and pa.s.sing over its top we went down its western side and soon came to a black frightful bog between two hills.

Beyond the bog and at some distance to the west of the two hills rose a brown mountain, not abruptly but gradually, and looking more like what the Welsh call a rhiw or slope than a mynydd or mountain.

”That, sir,” said my guide, ”is the great Plynlimmon.”

”It does not look much of a hill,” said I.

”We are on very high ground, sir, or it would look much higher. I question, upon the whole, whether there is a higher hill in the world.

G.o.d bless Pumlummon Mawr!” said he, looking with reverence towards the hill. ”I am sure I have a right to say so, for many is the good crown I have got by showing gentlefolks, like yourself, to the top of him.”

”You talk of Plynlimmon Mawr, or the great Plynlimmon,” said I; ”where are the small ones?”

”Yonder they are,” said the guide, pointing to two hills towards the north-”one is Plynlimmon Canol, and the other Plynlimmon Bach. The middle and the small Plynlimmon.”

”Pumlummon,” said I, ”means five summits. You have pointed out only three-now, where are the other two?”

”Those two hills which we have just pa.s.sed make up the five. However, I will tell your wors.h.i.+p that there is a sixth summit. Don't you see that small hill connected with the big Pumlummon, on the right?”

”I see it very clearly,” said I.

”Well, your wors.h.i.+p, that's called Bryn y Llo-the Hill of the Calf, or the Calf Plynlimmon, which makes the sixth summit.”

”Very good,” said I, ”and perfectly satisfactory. Now let us ascend the Big Pumlummon.”

In about a quarter of an hour we reached the summit of the hill, where stood a large carn or heap of stones. I got up on the top and looked around me.

A mountainous wilderness extended on every side, a waste of russet-coloured hills, with here and there a black, craggy summit. No signs of life or cultivation were to be discovered, and the eye might search in vain for a grove or even a single tree. The scene would have been cheerless in the extreme had not a bright sun lighted up the landscape.

”This does not seem to be a country of much society,” said I to my guide.

”It is not, sir. The nearest house is the inn we came from, which is now three miles behind us. Straight before you there is not one for at least ten, and on either side it is an anialwch to a vast distance. Plunlummon is not a sociable country, sir; nothing to be found in it, but here and there a few sheep or a shepherd.”

”Now,” said I, descending from the carn, ”we will proceed to the sources of the rivers.”

”The ffynnon of the Rheidol is not far off,” said the guide; ”it is just below the hill.”

We descended the western side of the hill for some way; at length, coming to a very craggy and precipitous place my guide stopped, and pointing with his finger into the valley below, said:

”There, sir, if you look down you can see the source of the Rheidol.”

I looked down, and saw far below what appeared to be part of a small sheet of water.

”And that is the source of the Rheidol?” said I.

”Yes, sir,” said my guide; ”that is the ffynnon of the Rheidol.”

”Well,” said I, ”is there no getting to it?”