HOURS AMONG THB ROCKS AND CLOUDS. 
189 
as a demon, had for a week past shown nothing higher than his red shoulder. 
Crib Coch. The sun was invisible, and evening hurrying on, as by bog and 
lichened rock rising at intervals like stones of memorial, we scaled the precipitous 
Glyder. But I had a guide, for the track was unknown to me, and mist on the 
summit of every mountain and hill. We paused, wearied, and leant on some 
mossy masses of stone. Still it was partially clear, but in a moment a grey 
volume of clouds, volley after volley, shot past us by an opening in the rocks, 
filled up the whole scene, and, slowly curling round, coldly encircled us in their 
damp embrace, and deeper and deeper curtained us round. But it was without 
a sound; not a whisper of wind or water was heard, not a cry from a Plover or a 
Raven mixed with the heavy atmosphere. The fog rolled and heaved in denser 
volumes, and seemed to bring the utter solitude and silence of death. We 
seemed alone in a world of vapours, before untrodden and unknown, and beyond 
their solemn shade a new creation seemed concealed from view. On we wandered, 
silent as the scene around us, ever and anon a pinnacle of grey stone like a half- 
demolished cromleck or desecrated circle suddenly darkening to view in the fog; and 
I thought we were ascending a rocky staircase that had no termination but in the 
heaven above us. Still my guide progressed before me, his gaunt figure often 
disappearing entirely from view and sometimes mistaking an oblique rock for him, 
ere I again recovered him. At length he paused—in a fog who can make every 
movement true ? and as the best may fail, so my guide had lost his clue, was out 
in his bearings, and was unable to proceed with certainty. I had enjoyed the 
cold sullen solemnity—the world of ghosts and vapours we were communing 
with; but knowing we were seven or eight miles from quarters, with night im¬ 
pending and short rations, I sounded a parley, and called a council. But vainly 
on Crib Discyl, Moel Siabod, and Cam Davydd did I call to withdraw their 
forces; fresh squadrons still pushed on from Wyddva,the Snowdonian praetorium, 
and nothing remained but a retreat in the face of the enemy, if possible before 
night fall. We found we were on the verge of a steep precipice, and my com¬ 
panion approaching to its very verge, rolled down mass after mass into the deep 
profundity, and stood listening to its fall—but there was no reply. He then 
said he must venture the descent alone, and' if he found the passages practicable 
he would give me notice by shouting; if not he would return when he had 
examined the vicinity as well as he could. So saying he left me, and his dark 
figure disappeared instantaneously below the face of the rock. I wrapped my 
cloak about me, sat on my collecting-book, and long anxiously listened. But 
there was no sound, and I now began to consider the probability that from the 
depth below no sound would reach me, that he might wander on unconsciously, 
be unable to ascend again, or be altogether uncertain of the exact spot where he 
left me. Thought crowded upon thought, and anxiety urged me to make an 
