which stands beneath a vast range of rocks at the head of the
valley up which I had been coming, and which is called Glyndyfrdwy,
or the valley of the Dee water. It was now about two o'clock, and
feeling rather thirsty I went to an inn very appropriately called
the Owen Glendower, being the principal inn in the principal town
of what was once the domain of the great Owen. Here I stopped for
about an hour refreshing myself and occasionally looking into a
newspaper in which was an excellent article on the case of poor
Lieutenant P. I then started for Cerrig-y-Drudion, distant about
ten miles, where I proposed to pass the night. Directing my course
to the north-west, I crossed a bridge over the Dee water and then
proceeded rapidly along the road, which for some way lay between
corn-fields, in many of which sheaves were piled up, showing that
the Welsh harvest was begun. I soon passed over a little stream,
the name of which I was told was Alowan. "Oh, what a blessing it
is to be able to speak Welsh!" said I, finding that not a person to
whom I addressed myself had a word of English to bestow upon me.
After walking for about five miles I came to a beautiful but wild
country of mountain and wood with here and there a few cottages.
The road at length making an abrupt turn to the north, I found
myself with a low stone wall on my left, on the verge of a profound
ravine, and a high bank covered with trees on my right. Projecting
out over the ravine was a kind of looking place, protected by a
wall, forming a half-circle, doubtless made by the proprietor of
the domain for the use of the admirers of scenery. There I
stationed myself, and for some time enjoyed one of the wildest and
most beautiful scenes imaginable. Below me was the deep narrow
glen or ravine, down which a mountain torrent roared and foamed.
Beyond it was a mountain rising steeply, its nearer side, which was
in deep shade, the sun having long sunk below its top, hirsute with