ROD IN WALES 17 



dislodged from their sockets and over- 

 turned by the force of the flood. Listen- 

 ing, one could hear beneath the swish 

 of the surface, beneath the steady roar 

 of the falls, a deep rumbling sound 

 emanating from those old crags, at last 

 disturbed, now chafing and groaning 

 in their efforts to stand their ground. 

 Smaller stones and gravel were uncere- 

 moniously hustled, like bits of cork, 

 from one place to another, and now and 

 then the trunk of a tree would shoot 

 down the rapids like an Indian's canoe. 

 It was evident that until noonday there 

 would be no possibility of fishing, so I 

 had ample time to renew my acquain- 

 tance with the old-fashioned, white- 

 washed inn that stood in the village 

 street overlooking the stream. Enter- 

 ing its only public room, I commenced 

 putting a cast together, so that every- 

 thing should be ready when the water 

 permitted a start to be made. The two 

 2 



