344 Wild Life in Wales 



slowly continued its way along the rough ground at the foot 

 of the rocks, still, evidently, on the lookout for voles. 



I had hoped that it was coming up into the cliff some- 

 where near me, but it passed on. Tradition, indeed, avers 

 that neither beast nor bird frequent these rocks, and that 

 there are no fish in the Llyn ; and though neither statement 

 is quite accurate, there is undoubtedly a strange want of 

 life round this bleak hilltop. I have seen a Teal or two 

 on the lake, in autumn (they do not breed there), and what 

 were apparently some small trout rising in it, but I could 

 never rise a fish myself, nor induce one to take any other 

 bait. Buzzards, and Ravens, may be seen passing, but I saw 

 no nest near the lake, not even a Ring Ouzel's. 



The tradition says that the waters of the Llyn are 

 " poisoned with sulphur," so that no life can exist in it, and 

 that the fumes issuing from it keep the cliff inviolate above. 

 According to the most romantic version of the tale, a giant 

 had his abode " a long time ago " in a cave in the precipice 

 overlooking the lake, the entrance to which can still be seen 

 like a black doorway on the face of the rock. Here he 

 dwelt, the terror of the neighbourhood, enjoying perennial 

 youth, and invulnerability from mortal weapons, so long as 

 he bathed each Midsummer morning in the waters of the 

 lake, and brought no captive alive to the cave. Of course 

 it was the old, old story ; the giant became enamoured of 

 a beautiful princess, who lived in a castle at Llan-y- 

 Mawddwy, and carried her off to his cave, defying the 

 spirit of Craig-Llyn-Dyfi, from whom he had his power. 

 As a consequence, he was hurled into the lake and drowned, 

 along with the brother of the princess, who had climbed to 

 the cave by a magic ladder, to attempt her rescue, and ever 

 sin syne the waters have been charged with sulphur. Con- 

 nected with the death of the giant there was a great flood, 

 the waters of the stream running white for many hours ; and 

 where it issues through a rocky gorge, above Llan-y- 

 Mawddwy, it is still known by the name of Llaeth-y-nant, 

 or " the brook of milk." White marks on the rock, too, 

 are pointed out as indicating the height to which the water 

 (or milk) rose, and it is said that anyone bold enough to 



