“Is there any one here,” said I, “who will guide me over the hills provided I pay him for his trouble?”
“O yes,” said she; “I know one who will be happy to guide you whether you pay him or not.”
She went out and presently returned with a man about thirty-five, stout and well-looking, and dressed in a waggoner’s frock.
“There,” said she, “this is the man to show you over the hills; few know the paths better.”
I thanked her, and telling the man I was ready, bade him lead the way. We set out, the two dogs of which I have spoken attending us and seemingly very glad to go. We ascended the side of the hog-backed hill to the north of the Rhyadr. We were about twenty minutes in getting to the top, close to which stood a stone or piece of rock, very much resembling a church altar, and about the size of one. We were now on an extensive moory elevation, having the brook which forms the Rhyadr a little way on our left. We went nearly due west, following no path, for path there was none, but keeping near the brook. Sometimes we crossed watercourses which emptied their tribute into the brook, and every now and then ascended and descended hillocks covered with gorse and whin. After a little time I entered into conversation with my guide. He had not a word of English. “Are you married?” said I.
“In truth I am, sir.”
“What family have you?”
“I have a daughter.”
“Where do you live?”
“At the house of the Rhyadr.”