THE YOUNG NATURALIST. 



one fell perhaps 800 feet in a pretty cataract before reaching the other. As 

 we began to ascend we found oir spirits becoming more and more buoyant 

 — our lassitude, which, of course, was at the bottom of our previous malaise, 

 wore off — we felt fit for anything almost, perhaps, to ascend the stupendous 

 Clogwyn-y-Garnedd, which, however, we could not see for mist. After a few 

 minutes rest at the old copper works — now disused — we recommenced the 

 ascent, and now came the tug of war. By some means we had followed the 

 lower of the two paths, although we had kept a look out for the upper one, 

 which is much less steep and in better condition, but had failed to find it. 

 In many places we had to climb on hands and knees, and now, to make 

 matters more difficult a breeze sprang up, the sun broke out and within a 

 very short space of time the mist had cleared off, and we saw opposite us and 

 towering above us for 2,000 feet, nearly sheer drop, the face of the gigantic 

 precipice, the Clogwyn-y-Garnedd, crowned at the top by the cairn and re- 

 freshment huts of the principal summit (Ywiddfa.) The sight above was 

 grand but terrible. How were we ever to reach that far-off goal ? We could 

 see a number of persons clustered about the cairn, but they were mere dots. 

 To go back would be foolish in the extreme, so I feel sure we both thought, 

 but neither suggested such a course to the other. Nevertheless, by dint of 

 steady (and heady) work, our legs being assisted by a trusty stick, we gradu- 

 ally found the summit coming nearer and nearer, and the drop into the gulf 

 below, which a single false step might have caused, more to be guarded 

 against, until at last by a series of zig-zags we landed on the Bwlch-Glas — 

 the ridge which connects the central portion of the mountains to the spur of 

 which Crib-goch is the termination — the ridge along which the Llanberis 

 path passes, and which we had yesterday traversed. But what a difference to 

 yesterday ! Instead of mist, behold a glorious view of land, sea, and sky. 

 Eight before us, bursting suddenly into view as we emerged from the gulf, 

 we saw, as on a map, the curious arm-like peninsula of Carnarvonshire, 

 which terminates at " Hell's Mouth ?' — Cardigan Bay — the Rival mountains, 

 and nearer still Moel-Hebog ; to our right lay the village of Dolbadarn, the 

 lakes Padarn and Peris, while away beyond we had a bird's-eye view of the 

 whole of Anglesea, the South Stack lighthouse, Holyhead, the Menai Straits, 

 the tubular bridge — even the towers of the latter being quite distinct. We 

 hurried to the summit to get a view of the southern prospect, but, before we 

 could get over the half-mile which still intervened between us and the huts, 

 the mist had come on and quickly shrouded even the summit itself from view. 

 Waiting there for awhile in the hope that it might again clear we were re- 

 warded by one of the finest views it is possible to conceive. In addition to 

 the spots already enumerated, which were even rendered more distinct, we 



