A BOTANICAL TOUR THROUGH SOUTH WALES, &C. 290 



the palm to the Sgwd-yr-Hen-Rhyd, near Capel Colbren, about five miles over 

 the mountains in a northerly direction. It can scarcely be found without a 

 guide, the route lying over boggy moors and stony ravines, without a single 

 habitation occurring near at hand the whole distance, except at Pont Henrhyd, 

 just above the fall, where in the early morning I enjoyed, after a fatiguing walk, 

 a delicious breakfast of Welsh bread and butter and milk, and a rest from 

 the hot sunbeams. Pont Henrhyd is a romantic, two-arched ivy-girt bridge, 

 beneath which the little river Llech pours its stream at first so quietly, that no 

 one would imagine that fifty yards beyond it was likely to fling itself in thunder, 

 foam, and spray, down a precipice ninety feet in height, into the dark 

 excavation below. This, however, is the case. It first begins to murmur 

 among the stones — then chafes and frets into its rocky channel — slides impetu- 

 ously down an interposing ledge of black rock that comes athwart its course — 

 foams and rushes on in anger — and then, collecting its waters together with 

 sullen and still determination, leaps at one sudden bound into the deep gulf 

 below. But its future course is not lost in shade ; the glen into which it has 

 fallen is seen opening some distance beyond, and the shaggy wood, robing the 

 cliffs on the right, is relieved by a sparkling prospect of dales and hills, in noble 

 perspective, down the vale of Tawe, into which the Llech runs, almost if not 

 quite to the faint blue ocean. The fall may be descended to by a rough way 

 down the cliff, by making a circuit to the right, and here it appeared in real 

 grandeur. The perpendicular rock on either side of the descending water 

 horrid with wood and impending trees that seem tottering to their fall, the dark 

 aspect of the precipice, shaggy with waving Mosses and Conferva, and its 

 superior height disturbing the rush with no impending crag, the flickering Iris 

 on the water, and the seclusion of the glen, that yet partially reveals the 

 on-flowing stream still bounding amidst huge blocks of stone, and hoarsely 

 murmuring in the pauses of the louder dash of the cataract, conspire to leave a 

 forcible impression upon the mind, and to cause the wanderer to leave the spot 

 that has given rise to so many pleasing images very reluctantly. I the rather 

 commend this water-fall to the botanist, as the way to it lies by an extensive 

 and remarkable bog, called Gorselyn, where many interesting plants are located. 

 To save trouble and prevent digression, I have reserved my list of the Plants 

 I gathered in Glyn Neath for this place. Any botanist travelling there — and 

 the place is now much visited — can easily slip this number of The Naturalist 

 into his pocket, and identify the habitats I have given ; and if he can increase 

 the list with any thing more uncommon, no one will be more pleased than 

 myself. It is surely a locality worth searching, and pleasure and delight 

 must ensue. 



