252 BIRD LIFE IN WILD WALES 



cliff without using the tackle, though we take it with 

 us, and so the climb begins, and a bad one it is too, 

 especially as we near the eyrie (for we are fortunate 

 in having marked the spot when the F'alcon left it). 

 Inch by inch we progress, handing the rope to one 

 another as we gain some sort of a resting-place. 

 Rotten pieces of rock and grass tufts give with the 

 hand grip, and go dashing down to what would be 

 perdition to us ; but we continue, and soon evidence 

 of the Falcon's home being near at hand is manifest — 

 the bones and feathers of some unfortunate Carrier 

 Pigeon strewn on a slab of rock. Just here a halt is 

 called, and crouching as best we may on a grassy 

 ledge, watch the Falcons awhile. Their cries now 

 redouble, and from time to time the " Falcon " comes 

 within long gunshot, sign certain of our being near her 

 treasures. Rather to our left is a bold bluff of grey 

 rock bespangled with ferns and mosses, projecting, as 

 it were, over the valley, with at least a hundred feet 

 sheer drop beneath, and after this a slithering, rush- 

 ing slope of another three hundred or so to the little 

 bubbling stream bisecting the valley, should we be so 

 unfortunate as to slip. This is the place, then, we have 

 to negotiate, and time being up we start on what is 

 real crag work. A projecting and rugged jag of rock 

 bars our way, and round this we have almost to 

 throw ourselves in order to gain a narrow — yes, an 

 all too narrow — ledge (for one tiny slip here and cer- 

 tain death is in store for us). The Rubicon is passed, 

 however, and here we are on the aforesaid ledge 

 which now leads straight to the eyrie, which is 

 situate on a grassy platform, spacious and roomy 



