great distance to buy the curious things, of which there were
plenty."

We passed over a bridge, which crosses a torrent, which descends
from the mountain on the south side of Llangollen, which bridge
John Jones told me was called the bridge of the Melin Bac, or mill
of the nook, from a mill of that name close by. Continuing our way
we came to a glen, down which the torrent comes which passes under
the bridge. There was little water in the bed of the torrent, and
we crossed easily enough by stepping-stones. I looked up the glen;
a wild place enough, its sides overgrown with trees. Dreary and
dismal it looked in the gloom of the closing evening. John Jones
said that there was no regular path up it, and that one could only
get along by jumping from stone to stone, at the hazard of breaking
one's legs. Having passed over the bed of the torrent, we came to
a path, which led up the mountain. The path was very steep and
stony; the glen with its trees and darkness on our right. We
proceeded some way. At length John Jones pointed to a hollow lane
on our right, seemingly leading into the glen.

"That place, sir," said he, "is called Pant y Gwyddel - the
Irishman's dingle, and sometimes Pant Paddy, from the Irish being
fond of taking up their quarters there. It was just here, at the
entrance of the pant, that the tribe were encamped, when I passed
two months ago at night, in returning from the other side of the
hill with ten shillings in my pocket, which I had been paid for a
piece of my work, which I had carried over the mountain to the very
place where I am now carrying this. I shall never forget the
fright I was in, both on account of my life, and my ten shillings.
I ran down what remained of the hill as fast as I could, not