Rev. W. A. Leighton on the Lichens of Cader Idris, 405 



during the night, where at all events I should have shelter and 

 safety, if nothing else. Second thoughts urged me to go for- 

 ward, knowing that, whilst maintaining the ridge, I was safe, 

 and, at the same time travelling eastwards, was in the right direc- 

 tion to eventually reach Dolgelley. The mist now rose a little; 

 and, seating myself for rest, I watched with admiration and awe 

 the mighty mists whirled upwards from the cwms and hollows 

 of the sides, like steam from some huge boiling cauldrons, in 

 very grand and sublime masses. The mist at intervals also 

 opened and closed, alternately revealing and again enveloping 

 glimpses of the beautiful mountainous and wooded scenery lit 

 up by bright sunshine, on the Barmouth side of the estuary, 

 and resembling immense magnificent dissolving views. Turn- 

 ing my eyes eastwards, to my astonishment I caught a glance 

 of what appeared, through the mist, as a man six or seven feet 

 high, with two huge dogs. I hallooed; and he fortunately heard, 

 and awaited my coming up to him, when, lo ! he proved to be a 

 boy about fourteen, with two shepherd dogs : such was the illu- 

 sion caused by the mist. With anxious earnestness I entreated 

 him to guide me down, stating that I was a stranger and had 

 lost my way. Luckily he understood English, but stoutly re- 

 fused to be my guide, saying his home lay on the southern side 

 of the mountain, and merely indicating the position of Dol- 

 gelley. Knowing the powerful attraction of money, I pulled 

 out some coins and offered them if he would be my guide. Still 

 without effect. As a last resource, I in despair asked him how 

 I must get down, when he merely pointed with his finger down 

 the precipices, saying " Down there, down there." So, bidding 

 him good-bye, I commended myself to Providence, and de- 

 scended the precipices slowly and cautiously. To my great 

 astonishment and delight, the mist now entirely and suddenly 

 cleared off, and the sun once more broke out in splendour. I 

 now recognized that I was descending the far-famed Llwybyr 

 Cadnaw, or " the Foxes' Path," a steep and fatiguing slope of 

 loose debris and broken stones, and was striking the lake Llyn 

 Gader, the very point from which I had ascended in the earlier 

 part of the day. Most thankful did I feel, and, draining my 

 last drop of whiskey, addressed myself to steering as straight a 

 course as possible across the morasses and spurs to Dolgelley, 

 throwing myself down, ever and anon, in sheer fatigue and ex- 

 haustion, for a few moments' rest. Eventually I gained my 

 inn, refreshed exhausted nature, and turned in for a glorious 

 and welcome night's sleep. 



I may here remark that there is in reality no real danger in 

 ascending any of the Welsh mountains alone and without a 

 guide. The great use of guides is that, in a strange moun- 



