A BOTANICAL TOUR THROUGH SOUTH WALES, &e. 
257 
m other was or ought to ensue from it in consequence; I was stupid enough to 
clamber up, hoping indeed “ the Witch” might have some plant in store for me 
in her chair—but she was out, the cupboard was bare, and I only had the 
satisfaction of perceiving how easily this mortal coil might be shaken off by a 
jump from the rock. I did not stop long, however, to consider, lest some demon 
should make the suggestion. I noticed, about a third of the distance down the 
precipice, a Yew-tree (Taxus baccata) growing out of the rock, and on inquiry, 
I understood this was the only one known for many miles round, and that some 
of the youths of the neighbourhood would, on particular occasions, venture down 
at the risk of their lives to cut a branch of Yew from this tree. Few, however, 
durst undertake the hazardous exploit. I was here also treated to a legendary 
tale, which, as it is very short, I shall record. Both my guides gravely assured 
me, and evidently believed it themselves, that, two years ago—“ I love to be 
particular in dates”—a man returning home late in the evening, perceived a 
woman before him as he thought, and thinking she was in the right path he 
followed her, when she led him to the brink of this awful precipice, and suddenly 
vanished, leaving him tottering on the verge—his next step being likely to be 
into eternity! He was already stepping off the rock, when the Syren spirit 
disappeared, but, stretching forth his hands as he descended, saved himself by 
clinging to the shrubs depending from the cliffs, and struggled into a Holly-bush 
some yards down the face of the precipice, which was pointed out to me, and 
thus saved himself from destruction, as he contrived to scramble back again 
from the Holly-bush to the summit of the rock. His hat, memorial of the 
transaction, remained in the ravine below. I care not about accounting for this, 
only mentioning it to show the proneness of mankind in wild secluded scenes to 
attribute the simple incident of a man s falling down a steep cliff, by mistaking 
his way in a dark evening, when perhaps under the influence of intoxication, to 
the interference of a supposed supernatural being. 
In one part of the rock there is a cave, overgrown with briars, to which access 
is obtained by a narrow ledge along the face of the cliff. This is called Y Ffwrn, 
or ‘‘ the Oven,” for what sage reason I know not; at all events I did not like its 
aspect sufficiently to explore it. Having, however, noticed the remark, in a 
Guide to Swansea and its neighbourhood, that “ the Sheep and Goats frequently 
shelter in it,” and seeing no signs of the latter, I was induced to make particular 
inquiries respecting them. The result was, that wild Goats had been well 
remembered to have haunted the Dinas Craig and its vicinity for a long period, 
although they were not very numerous; but the proprietors of the lands around, 
having commenced plantations upon a large scale, and the young trees being 
injured by the Goats, they were all ordered to be shot about ten years ago, and 
