HOURS AMONG ROCKS AND CLOUDS. 
363 
strife that then raged. Ail was now of a soft and mild character, and the 
descending current urged its silver spray as if unwilling to disturb the repose of 
the stony masses that contributed their deep solemn intonations to the aqueous 
concert. A pair of Dippers (Cinctus aquaticus ) dashed swiftly through the hol¬ 
low as We Were gazing at the falling waters. 
Above the fall the river winds among the rocks, retaining now only the character 
of a mountain rivulet hardly to be distinguished from its sisters, each rolling its 
tiny tribute down the dark cwms. The last bridge now appeared—made for 
Sheep : a couple of sticks stretched from side to side and covered with turf, 
formed the simple but precarious structure over which we now stepped, and it 
tottered beneath us. Just above the bridge, close to the stream, I gathered some 
luxuriant specimens of Saxifraga stellaris , as well as in another spot higher up 
the mountain, where the river, in the vigour of its youth, tumbled in a sounding 
cascade over some large masses of rock. A little higher up, a bog on the verge 
of the stream was adorned very profusely with the pale blue flowers of the beau¬ 
tiful and delicate Campanula Tiederacea. 
I strongly recommend the visitor to Plinlimmon to trace the course of the 
Severn from Blaen Hafren to its rise—the scene varies at every step so as to 
prevent tediousness, while the jutting ribs of the hill are insensibly surmounted, 
and the occasional crossing and re-crossing of the little struggling and whimpering 
Severn is really amusing. At last the rocks cease, the banks of the glen rise 
high, and a dreary turbary, grimy with black bog earth, presents itself, with 
stubby masses of Heath and Rushes. Here the water in the bed of the stream, 
not half way up the shoe, trickles silently and almost imperceptibly, and on one 
side is a coagulated mass of ferruginous mud, tinted with the iron deposited from 
the water here stealing from the bank, which is dignified by the appellation of 
the head of the Severn. There is no pond, as stated by some writers, and 
generally supposed, though the hollow continues much further up the turbary, 
subdividing into several divarications, each bringing down a trickling rill, but 
none depositing any ferruginous stain on the mud, except the small chalybeate 
spring I have mentioned. This, therefore, I presume is the badge of distinction. 
Of course I quaffed a cup of the Severn water from its accredited fountain 
head, and then, sitting down on the Moss, resigned myself to reflection. Here 
was a striking instance of the power of association. From a boy I had long 
desired to see the source of the Severn.—I now looked down upon a barren and 
sullen boggy hollow, deformed with unsightly Rushes, from which not even a 
ripple or a murmur emanated, its dingy sides sable with bog-mud, and altogether 
apparently unworthy a momentary glance. Undoubtedly whoever came igno¬ 
rantly in contact with it, would hardly feel inclined to do otherwise than rush 
from the spot with all possible speed. But stop ! from that humble initiatory 
