41 
The station at Rhayader was a sight to see. The approaches were crowded 
with vehicles of all descriptions, and the inhabitants of all ages occupied the em- 
bankments and “‘ every vantage ground ” to receive the visitors in silent homage. 
The visit of the Woolhope Club seemed an event of extraordinary interest. 
Rhayader had been suddenly called upon to find carriage conveyance fora hun- 
dred and two devotees of science, and it required all the obliging energy displayed 
by Mr. J. Powell Williams, of the Lion Hotel, to be equal to the occasion. 
The selection of traps and horses offered to the visitors was very varied, but a 
ready and cheerful good nature prevailed everywhere, and all went well. ‘‘ What 
a nice young horse this is,” said one of the drivers, ‘‘ you would not think he had 
only been in harness three or four times; yes, indeed; and he can go like the 
wind if he likes, but he is young and must be taken gently.” And so well and 
carefully was he handled—with a touch delicate as a woman’s—that the rather 
startling nature of the information was quite balanced by the pleasure of seeing 
it done. The Cymri were ever noted for skilful dealings with cattle, and that 
no accident happened throughout the day happily tended to show that they have 
not lost ‘‘ their cunning” in this respect. 
The Vale of the Elan is widely celebrated for its great beauty. It is the gem 
of South Wales, and never could its scenery have looked more beautiful than it 
did on this lovely day of sunshine and cloud. As the broad valley grows narrower 
in the tortuous channel the river has cut for itself through the hills, the view re- 
called to the visitors Scotch or Swiss scenes of singular beauty, for the hills rise to 
a considerable height and give now a warm glow of heather, and again a bold 
escarpment of precipitous rocks. The immediate banks of the river are well 
wooded, and it was marvellous to see how the trees seem to grow from the very 
rocks themselves. Oak trees of some three or four feet in circumference stood on 
masses of crumbling shaly stone, as if they neither had nor required further soil 
to grow in. The poet Bowles has given a long and charming description of 
the scenery, from which we take this passage :— 
‘“ Now wind we up the glen, and hear below 
The dashing torrent in deep woods concealed ; 
And now again, while flashing on the view 
O’er the huge craggy fragments— 
But loftier scenes invite us ; pass the hill 
And through the woody hanging, at whose feet 
The tinkling Elan winds, pursue the way.’ 
But even he does not do justice to his theme. The river itself which he so lightly 
touches—‘‘ the tinkling Elan ”—forms perhaps the greatest charm of all. In the 
soft and pleasing aspect it presented on this occasion, when its waters rushed 
hurriedly along, around, and through, the huge boulders which are everywhere 
scattered thickly along its course, it was most attractive; but in its sterner mood 
the Elan is a torrent of wonderful power, and only last winter washed away every 
bridge that vainly tried to stem its fury. Bright as the weather was, several 
fishermen were exercising their art, for the water carried a stain from its mountain 
sources; and who would not be a fisherman to visit such scenes? The beauty of 
the scenery, however, must not be longer dwelt upon, for the Woolhope Club has 
ever a scientific object in view, and the botanists were at work in collecting and 
cataloguing the Radnorshire plants at this time in flower. 
