George Bowring - A Tale of Cader Idris | Page 6

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till they came to a weir or a waterfall. And they told us that in the
scorching summer of the year 1826 the river had failed them so that for
nearly a month they could only discourse by signs; and they used to
stand on the bridge and point at the shrunken rapids, and stop their ears
to exclude that horrible emptiness. Till a violent thunderstorm broke up
the drought, and the river came down roaring; and the next day all
Aber-Aydyr was able to gossip again as usual.
Finding these people, who lived altogether upon slate, of a quaint and
original turn, George Bowring and I resolved to halt and rest the soles
of our feet a little, and sketch and fish the neighbourhood. For George
had brought his rod and tackle, and many a time had he wanted co stop
and set up his rod and begin to cast; but I said that I would not be

cheated so: he had promised me a mountain, and would he put me off
with a river? Here, however, we had both delights; the river for him and
the mountain for me. As for the fishing, all that he might have, and I
would grudge him none of it, if he fairly divided whatever he caught.
But he must not expect me to follow him always and watch all his
dainty manoeuvring; each was to carry and eat his own dinner,
whenever we made a day of it, so that he might keep to his flies and his
water, while I worked away with my brush at the mountains. And thus
we spent a most pleasant week, though we knew very little of Welsh
and the slaters spoke but little English. But--much as they are maligned
because they will not have strangers to work with them--we found them
a thoroughly civil, obliging, and rather intelligent set of men; most of
them also of a respectable and religious turn of mind; and they scarcely
ever poach, except on Saturdays and Mondays.
On September 25, as we sat at breakfast in the little sanded parlour of
the Cross-Pipes public house, our bedroom being overhead, my dear
friend complained to me that he was tired of fishing so long up and
down one valley, and asked me to come with him further up, into
wilder and rockier districts, where the water ran deeper (as he had been
told) and the trout were less worried by quarrymen, because it was such
a savage place, deserted by all except evil spirits, that even the
Aber-Aydyr slaters could not enjoy the fishing there. I promised him
gladly to come, only keeping the old understanding between us, that
each should attend to his own pursuits and his own opportunities
mainly; so that George might stir most when the trout rose well, and I
when the shadows fell properly. And thus we set forth about nine
o'clock of a bright and cheerful morning, while the sun, like a courtly
perruquier of the reign of George II., was lifting, and shifting, and
setting in order the vapoury curls of the mountains.
We trudged along thus at a merry swing, for the freshness of autumnal
dew was sparkling in the valley, until we came to a rocky pass, where
walking turned to clambering. After an hour of sharpish work among
slaty shelves and threatening crags, we got into one of those troughlike
hollows hung on each side with precipices, which look as if the earth
had sunk for the sake of letting the water through. On our left hand,

cliff towered over cliff to the grand height of Pen y Cader, the steepest
and most formidable aspect of the mountain. Rock piled on rock, and
shingle cast in naked waste disdainfully, and slippery channels scooped
by torrents of tempestuous waters, forbade one to desire at all to have
anything more to do with them--except, of course, to get them painted
at a proper distance, so that they might hang at last in the dining rooms
of London, to give people appetite with sense of hungry breezes, and to
make them comfortable with the sight of danger.
"This is very grand indeed," said George, as he turned to watch me; for
the worst part of our business is to have to give an opinion always upon
points of scenery. But I am glad that I was not cross, or even crisp with
him that day.
"It is magnificent," I answered; "and I see a piece of soft sward there,
where you can set up your rod, old fellow, while I get my sticks in trim.
Let us fill our pipes and watch the shadows; they do not fall quite to
suit me yet."
"How these things make one think," cried Bowring, as