194 
the eminences the smiling appearance 
of the low-lands vanished, and all was 
barren and. desolate. A wide heath, 
rendered impassable in part by bogs, 
afforded provision for the sheep that 
browzed upon the mountains, and pro- 
duced only a few stinted thistles. The 
wind whistled around us, bearing on its 
wing the distant cries of the black cock, 
or the sullen rush of the heath bird, the 
sole tenants of the waste. 
When we had sufficiently enjoyed the 
landscape we descended a circuitous 
path, which brought us into a sort of 
valley belted by an amphitheatre of 
mountains, many of which rose perpen- 
dicularly from the pool in the centre of 
the plain. The sun shone bright on the 
waters—the fish leaped up with joy— 
our hearts leaped within us at the sight— 
and a gale, moderated by the shelter of 
the adjacent hills, slightly ruffled the 
stream. Our tent was immediately 
erected in a spot where a cleft in the 
mountains afforded a glance of the 
landscape beneath; and our accommo- 
dations were in every respect desirable. 
We had mantles for the convenience of 
sleeping, materials for striking light, 
gridirons to fry fish if caught, and cheer- 
fulness to enjoy the excursion. But, 
alas! sorrow treads hard on the heels 
of happiness. “All things,’ as the 
Psalmist observes, “ are vanity and vex- 
ation of spirit ;” and poor Shenkin was 
compelled to acknowledge this bitter 
truth in the loss of his Welch wig. A 
zephyr, it appears, was travelling by at 
' the time, and being taken with the 
beauty of the caxon, stole it from the 
head of its owner. A hue and cry was 
instantly raised, emissaries were des- 
patched on the chase, but the thief was 
the swiftest of the party, and puffed it 
like a balloon beyond our reach. The 
discomfited Cambrian entertained us, 
on our return, with an account of the 
age and virtues of his wig, and informed 
us that he would not have lost it for 
a hundred pounds, for that it had been 
in the family for thousands of years, 
and belonged originally to Josiah the 
son of Aminadab, who bequeathed it to 
one of the Elders of the Ten Tribes, by 
whom it was transmitted to the ances- 
tors of Llewellyn, who gave it, at his 
death, to Shenkin-ap-Rhyader-ap-Mor- 
gan-ap-Jenkins-ap-Jones, and through 
whom it had descended to the present 
owner, “ Judge, oh ye gods! how 
dearly Morgan lov’d it.” With some 
difficulty we pacified him, and tied a 
handkerchief round his bald head, which, 
Adventures in Wales. 
{Oct. f, 
thus accoutered, gave no faint idea ofia 
turnip enveloped in a dish-clout. 
The sun had by this time attained his 
meridian, and we resolved to commence 
an assault on the provisions. Morgan 
led the way to the attack, and skir- 
mished gallantly among the baskets. 
We too seated ourselves by the tent 
side, and paid repeated compliments to 
each other’s faculties of mastication. 
As for Robert, he digested our jokes 
with as much good humour as his din- 
ner, and amused us by his unwearied 
sprightliness. How long we continued 
at our repast it is impossible now to 
say, but certain it is, that the sun was 
on the wane, when we took up the frag- 
ments that remained. Our rods were 
forthwith got ready, and away we hur- 
ried to the pool: but the intensity of 
the heat prevented our usual activity, 
and we moved languidly along the banks 
until roused by a shout from Taffy, who 
had hooked an enormous trout. The 
fish struggled with the energy of despair, 
but the wary Cambrian refused to remit 
his advantage. He played him with 
infinite dexterity, gave him a full swing 
of line, and having fatigued him with 
pain, drew him safely to land. It may 
here be proper to observe, that we saw 
the epicure Robert lick his lips at sight 
of the trout, and handle his well-fed 
back, as if, like an avaricious clergyman, ° 
he was fingering the tythes of the parish. 
While thus absorbed in fly-fishing, the 
. clouds thickened, the day. was overcast, 
and the lurid appearance of the atmo- 
sphere announced the approach of a 
storm. We heard the thunder echoing 
in sullen peals from the distance, and 
grow louder and louder as it approach- 
ed. At last it burst full on our heads. 
Each roll reverberated in ten thousand. 
echoes among the mountains, and in- 
spired us with unusual solemnity, Eyen 
Robert was serious, and Morgan forgot 
his wig. The lightning meantime flashed 
terrifically around; the wind rose—fell 
—and stillness again brooded over the 
face of the landscape. During the con- 
tinuance of the storm we retired into 
our tent, where we amused ourselves 
by tying flies, and preparing fire for our 
trout. Morgan was dubbed cook, Ro- 
bert ordained his ministrant, and I 
was despatched to cut turf to feed the 
flames. In the course of out pursuit, 
we lighted by chance on a bog-cutter 
who was engaged in a similar occupa- 
tion. Like the generality of his coun- 
trymen, he was a timid superstitious 
sort of fellow, and seemed to be ore 
ened. 
