"I don't know," said the man - "why do you ask?""Perro," said I, "is a Spanish word, and signifies a dog in general. I am rather surprised that a dog in the mountains of Wales should be called by the Spanish word for dog." I fell into a fit of musing. "How Spanish words are diffused! Wherever you go you will find some Spanish word or other in use. I have heard Spanish words used by Russian mujiks and Turkish fig-gatherers - Ihave this day heard a Spanish word in the mountains of Wales, and Ihave no doubt that were I to go to Iceland I should find Spanish words used there. How can I doubt it; when I reflect that more than six hundred years ago, one of the words to denote a bad woman was Spanish. In the oldest of Icelandic domestic Sagas, Skarphedin, the son of Nial the seer, called Hallgerdr, widow of Gunnar, a puta - and that word so maddened Hallgerdr that she never rested till she had brought about his destruction. Now, why this preference everywhere for Spanish words over those of every other language? I never heard French words or German words used by Russian mujiks and Turkish fig-gatherers. I question whether Ishould find any in Iceland forming part of the vernacular. Icertainly never found a French or even a German word in an old Icelandic Saga. Why this partiality everywhere for Spanish words?
the question is puzzling; at any rate it puts me out - ""Yes, it puts me out!" I exclaimed aloud, striking my fist on the table with a vehemence which caused the good folks to start half up from their seats. Before they could say anything, however, a vehicle drove up to the door, and a man getting out came into the room. He had a glazed hat on his head, and was dressed something like the guard of a mail. He touched his hat to me, and called for a glass of whiskey. I gave him the sele of the evening and entered into conversation with him in English. In the course of discourse I learned that he was the postman, and was going his rounds in his cart - he was more than respectful to me, he was fawning and sycophantic. The whiskey was brought, and he stood with the glass in his hand. Suddenly he began speaking Welsh to the people;before, however, he had uttered two sentences the woman lifted her hand with an alarmed air, crying "Hush! he understands." The fellow was turning me to ridicule. I flung my head back, closed my eyes, opened my mouth and laughed aloud. The fellow stood aghast;his hand trembled, and he spilt the greater part of the whiskey upon the ground. At the end of about half a minute I got up, asked what I had to pay, and on being told twopence, I put down the money. Then going up to the man I put my right forefinger very near to his nose, and said "Dwy o iaith dwy o wyneb, two languages, two faces, friend!" Then after leering at him for a moment Iwished the people of the house good-evening and departed.
Walking rapidly on towards the east I soon drew near the termination of the valley. The valley terminates in a deep gorge or pass between Mount Eilio - which by-the-bye is part of the chine of Snowdon - and Pen Drws Coed. The latter, that couchant elephant with its head turned to the north-east, seems as if it wished to bar the pass with its trunk; by its trunk I mean a kind of jaggy ridge which descends down to the road. I entered the gorge, passing near a little waterfall which with much noise runs down the precipitous side of Mount Eilio; presently I came to a little mill by the side of a brook running towards the east. I asked the miller-woman, who was standing near the mill, with her head turned towards the setting sun, the name of the mill and the stream. "The mill is called 'The mill of the river of Lake Cwellyn,'" said she, "and the river is called the river of Lake Cwellyn.""And who owns the land?" said I.
"Sir Richard," said she. "I Sir Richard yw yn perthyn y tir. Mr Williams, however, possesses some part of Mount Eilio.""And who is Mr Williams?" said I.
"Who is Mr Williams?" said the miller's wife. "Ho, ho! what a stranger you must be to ask me who is Mr Williams."I smiled and passed on. The mill was below the level of the road, and its wheel was turned by the water of a little conduit supplied by the brook at some distance above the mill. I had observed similar conduits employed for similar purposes in Cornwall. Alittle below the mill was a weir, and a little below the weir the river ran frothing past the extreme end of the elephant's snout.
Following the course of the river I at last emerged with it from the pass into a valley surrounded by enormous mountains. Extending along it from west to east, and occupying its entire southern part lay an oblong piece of water, into which the streamlet of the pass discharged itself. This was one of the many beautiful lakes, which a few days before I had seen from the Wyddfa. As for the Wyddfa Inow beheld it high above me in the north-east looking very grand indeed, shining like a silver helmet whilst catching the glories of the setting sun.
I proceeded slowly along the road, the lake below me on my right hand, whilst the shelvy side of Snowdon rose above me on the left.
The evening was calm and still, and no noise came upon my ear save the sound of a cascade falling into the lake from a black mountain, which frowned above it on the south, and cast a gloomy shadow far over it.
This cataract was in the neighbourhood of a singular-looking rock, projecting above the lake from the mountain's side. I wandered a considerable way without meeting or seeing a single human being.
At last when I had nearly gained the eastern end of the valley Isaw two men seated on the side of the hill, on the verge of the road, in the vicinity of a house which stood a little way up the hill. The lake here was much wider than I had hitherto seen it, for the huge mountain on the south had terminated and the lake expanded considerably in that quarter, having instead of the black mountain a beautiful hill beyond it.