“About twenty minutes’ walk brought me ... near a spur of the Plynlimmon range. Here I engaged a man to show me the sources of the rivers and the other wonders of the mountain. He was a tall, athletic fellow, and had much more the appearance of an Irishman than the Welshman that he was....
“After ascending a steep hill and passing over its top, we went down its western side, and soon came to a black, frightful bog between two hills. Beyond the bog, and at some distance to the west of the two hills, rose a brown mountain, not abruptly, but gradually, and looking more like what the Welsh call a slope than a mountain.
“‘That, sir,’ said my guide, ‘is the Great Plynlimmon.’
“‘It does not look much of a hill,’ said I.
“‘We are on very high ground, sir, or it would look much higher. I question, upon the whole, whether there is a higher hill in the world. God bless Plynlimmon Mawr!’ said he, looking with reverence towards the hill. ‘I am sure I have a right to say so, for many is the good crown I have got by showing gentlefolks, like yourself, to the top of him.’
“‘You talk of Plynlimmon Mawr, or the Great Plynlimmon,’ said I; ‘where are the smaller ones?’
“‘Yonder they are,’ said the guide, pointing to two hills towards the north—‘the Middle and the Small Plynlimmon.... Those two hills we have just passed make up the five. That small hill connected with the big Plynlimmon on the right is called the Hill of the Calf, or Calf Plynlimmon, which makes the sixth summit.’
“‘Very good,’ said I, ‘and perfectly satisfactory. Now let us ascend the big Plynlimmon.’
“In about a quarter of an hour we reached the summit of the hill, where stood a large cairn, or heap of stones. I got up on the top and looked around me.