Ỻancia’ ’Ryri a’u gwyn gyỻ a’i henniỻ hi.
Snowdonia’s youths with their white hazels will win it.
As the local shepherds were one day long ago collecting their sheep on the Ỻiweđ, one sheep fell down to a shelf in this precipice, and when the Cwm Dyli shepherd made his way to the spot he perceived that the ledge of rock on which he stood led to the hidden cave of Ỻanciau Eryri. There was light within: he looked in and beheld a host of warriors without number all asleep, resting on their arms and ready equipped for battle. Seeing that they were all asleep, he felt a strong desire to explore the whole place; but as he was squeezing in he struck his head against the bell hanging in the entrance. It rang so that every corner of the immense cave rang again, and all the warriors woke uttering a terrible shout, which so frightened the shepherd that he never more enjoyed a day’s health; nor has anybody since dared as much as to approach the mouth of the cave.
Thus far the Brython, and I have only to remark that this legend is somewhat remarkable for the fact of its representing the Youths of Eryri sleeping away in their cave without Arthur among them. In fact, that hero is described as buried not very far off beneath a carneđ or cairn on Bwlch y Saethau. As to the exact situation of that cairn, I may say that my attention was drawn some time ago to the following lines by Mr. William Owen, better known as Glaslyn, a living bard bred and born in the district:—
Gerỻaw Carneđ Arthur ar ysgwyđ y Wyđfa
Y gorweđ gweđiỻion y cawr enwog Ricca.
Near Arthur’s Cairn on the shoulder of Snowdon
Lie the remains of the famous giant Ricca.
These words recall an older couplet in a poem by Rhys Goch Eryri, who is said to have died in the year 1420. He was a native of the parish of Beđgelert, and his words in point run thus:—
Ar y drum oer dramawr,