OF AN INSECT-HUNTER. 



87 



equal greyhounds ; and, in a few hundred yards, will run down 

 any fox, if they have a fair start. The foxes burrow in the 

 almost perpendicular cliffs of the mountains, which are often 

 completely honied-combed with their holes ; when they reach 

 these the hunt is over, and the fox secure. 



It is difficult to take leave of Llanthony, but my readers 

 are tired, and I will " move on." The wanderers are again 

 a-foot ; they turn their faces northward, and pursue the course 

 of the Honddu, the beautiful rivulet that used in the olden 

 time to furnish grayling to the gastrological monks. The 

 Honddu is a little fretful mountain stream ; its voice was ever 

 in our ears ; it, was the companion of our way for seven miles : 

 sometimes its channel was big enough for a mighty river ; its 

 rocky banks, many hundred yards apart, and rising fifty feet 

 on either side, covered with versicolorous lichens, and in the 

 crevices affording a lodgment to graceful and most luxuriant 

 ferns. Nothing could exceed the beauty of some spots, 

 where the cold lichen-stained rocks bore at every ledge where 

 a handful of soil would rest, a bunch of feathery fern, which 

 was incessantly in motion, and on their summit a crest of 

 delicate and graceful birch. Generally, however, the banks 

 of the Honddu slope gradually to the stream ; they are often 

 cultivated for the distance of a full mile on either side, and 

 appear to produce excellent grass ; it was now ready to cut, 

 and every field was enamelled with flowers. It would be 

 impossible in such a walk as this for the Insect-Hunter not 

 to meet with success ; box after box was filled till it would 

 hold no more ; and then proceeding at a better pace, the tra- 

 vellers at last emerged from the ravine, where the stream is 

 no longer capable of yielding its tribute to man, and was 

 therefore untouched by his hands, and trickled over the barren 

 and rugged side of the mountain : there they sat down and 

 drank of its crystal waters, and rested awhile from their 

 labours. Then they turned northward through the Bwlch- 

 y-fingel, and wandered on under the heights of Cusop, till 

 they found a hospitable home at Llydyadyway, the residence of 

 the brother of the grouse-shooter. 



