The succession of mountain ranges, precipitous and rugged, which extend
from the shores of the Irish Sea to the boundaries of England, rising
tier above tier, and culminating, at different points, in the heights of
Snowdon, Cader Idris, and Plinlimmon, gives to wild Wales that romantic
beauty for which it is so justly celebrated. That mountain region, too,
guarded by the strong arms and undaunted hearts of its heroic sons,
formed an impassable bulwark against the advance of barbarian invaders,
and remained for many years, while Saxon England was yet pagan, the main
refuge of that Christian religion to which Britain owes its present
greatness. Yet subsequently, on account of the inaccessible nature of
the country, the inhabitants, separated from their more enlightened
fellow-subjects, remained for a long period almost as ignorant as their
ancestors in the dark ages; and, till of late years, retained many of
the grosser superstitions and customs of those times.
A young traveller was climbing the side of one of these mountain ranges
facing the ocean, the silvery waters of which could be discerned in the
distance, when he observed, far up, a hut. Solitary and cheerless it
looked, scarcely to be distinguished from the sombre colouring of the
surrounding ground and the rocks and bushes amid which it stood. It was
weather-worn and dilapidated, and appeared altogether unfit to be the
abode of a human being; indeed, a thin wreath of peat smoke ascending
from an aperture in the roof alone made it likely that it was inhabited.
Its appearance offered no temptation to the young stranger to turn
aside from the path he was pursuing, and he continued his ascent till he
gained a rocky pinnacle, from whence he could watch the sun dipping into
the ocean; and hence he could look down, on one side, over a confused
mass of barren hills and fertile valleys, rocks, and precipices, heights
crowned with trees, peaks bare and rugged, and glens with sparkling
torrents dashing and foaming amid them; while on the other side, towards
the ocean, he saw before him a wide and smiling valley, with a stream
meandering through it, and green meadows and groves of trees, from among
which a church spire reared its pointed summit; and near it a cheerful
village of white-washed cottages and other dwellings of more pretension;
and there were sheep feeding, and cattle wending their way slowly
homeward, all speaking of peace and security.
"I could not have selected a more lovely spot to spend an evening in,
had I been allowed a choice," said the young traveller to himself, as he
took his seat on the highest point he could find. "As I cannot find my
home, I could not be better off. I thought that I knew perfectly well
the place my family have got to, but I am fairly puzzled with the Welsh
names. I ought to have kept my brother's letters in which he had
clearly written it down. Whether it is Twrog-y-Bwlch, or
Llwyd-y-Cynfael, or Dwyryd-y-Ffetiog, I am sure I don't know. I hit the
right post-town, of that I am nearly certain. There's a village in the
bottom. I might go down and inquire, but then I probably should not
find my way back again over the mountain to the inn where I left my
traps. I hope that I may hit it off to-morrow. It's very tantalising,
and provoking too, to be so near home, and yet not able to find it. It
was very stupid to lose the letter. They do say midshipmen are very
careless chaps, and that I am no exception to the rule. Well, I have no
reason to grumble. I haven't enjoyed such a sight as this for many a
day, though it's something like being mast-headed, except with the
difference that I may go down when I like. I should enjoy it more if I
had a messmate to talk to about it. The air is wonderfully fine up
here. It makes me feel inclined to shout out at the top of my voice,
`Rule, Britannia, Britannia rules the waves, And Britons never, never,
never will be slaves,' Hurra! That's it. Hurra, boys! `We'll fight
and we'll conquer again and again.'"
Thus the happy young midshipman gave full scope to the exuberance of his
spirits, feeling very sure that no one was listening to him. As he
ceased, a curiously wild, mournful strain struck his ear, ascending from
below him on the west, and forming a strange contrast to the merry notes
he had been singing. It was like the noonday song of the joyous lark,
as he soars into the blue sky, answered by the midnight croak of the
raven as he sits on the old abbey's ivy-covered wall. He listened. It
seemed rather like a continued shriek than a song, or the fearful cry of
the fabled Banshee as she flits by the family mansion in Ireland, to
warn the inmates, as is ignorantly supposed, that one of their number
must prepare to quit the world, its pleasures and its sorrows. The
young midshipman's mind was, however, too well trained to indulge even
for a moment in any such fancies, for he owed his education to a wise,
religious, and loving father. Yet he was sorely puzzled at first to
account for the wild strains which floated through the air, till he
caught sight of the ruined hut he had observed on his way up, and
discerned a large rent in the roof, through which he supposed the sounds
uttered by its inmate must be ascending. He was too far off to
distinguish the words; but that there were words uttered, and probably
as strange as the music itself, if music he could call it, he was very
certain. Now the strains rose to a high pitch, now they swelled, now
decreased into a low moan scarcely audible.
"Some poor mad creature," said the midshipman to himself. "I should
think nobody but a mad person would live in such a place as that; in
truth, if anybody had to live there, its solitude and its forlorn
condition would be enough to drive them out of their senses; it would
me, I know; only I should forthwith set to work to make it habitable.
To be sure, I shouldn't be worse off than Tom and I were when we were
cast away on that coral island in the Pacific, except that there we had
summer all the year round and abundance of food of one sort or another.
Here it must be terribly cold in winter, and as for food, a person would
soon starve if he were compelled to live only on what the hillside
produces." The young midshipman had got into the habit of talking to
himself, either during his night watches, or, it is just possible, while
at the mast-head, at which post of honour, in some ships, the young
gentlemen of his rank used to spend a considerable portion of their
existence.
The strange singing continued for some time. As he looked down from his
rocky height he saw a number of persons coming up the hill, apparently
from the village towards the hut. They appeared from their movements to
be children. They got close to the hut, and were hid from his sight.
Now they seemed to be running away--now they returned, leaping and
shouting, so that their shrill young voices reached to where he sat.
Suddenly he saw them all running down the hill, just as children run,
jumping and pushing against each other, and evidently in high glee. The
midshipman was considering that it was time for him to return to his inn
for the night, when a loud shriek, which came from the direction of the
hut, struck his ear, and he saw a bright light streaming through the
aperture in the roof. "Something is the matter," he exclaimed, as
jumping from his seat he ran down the mountain towards the hut: "the
cottage or its inmate is on fire; I must do my best to put out the
flame, at all events."