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 ~~
 
 WONDER TALES 
 OF ANCIENT WALES.
 
 LLEW 
 
 ''The room was full of the Tylwyth Teg, dancing and jigging 
 all over the leather shavings." (p. 5)
 
 OF 
 
 BY 
 
 BERNARD HENDERSON 
 
 AND 
 
 STEPHEN JONES. 
 
 With Eight Illustrations by 
 DORIS WILLIAMSON. 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY, 
 PUBLISHERS.
 
 PRINTED IN GREAT BRITAIN.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The Stories in this book are told entirely 
 in our own words and according to our own 
 methods, and we believe that a large proportion 
 of them have not appeared hitherto in an English 
 garb. One of them, namely, " Llew," has never 
 been seen before in any attire, for it is new-born. 
 
 We went to Welsh literature, and, having 
 borrowed the underlying ideas of certain attractive 
 stories, we placed them, so far as language is 
 concerned, in an English setting, which, allowing 
 for difference of idiom and word, represents 
 sufficiently the sentiment and colour of the Welsh 
 original. It follows, therefore, that the reader may 
 
 548629 
 
 LISRARf
 
 at times possess what is practically a direct 
 translation, or again, it may be that he is perusing 
 what our imagination has supplied to heighten 
 effect or fill out a slender outline. 
 
 Our earnest hope is that the result of our 
 joint labour this Welsh spirit speaking through 
 an English voice will win the benison both of 
 the critic and of the general public. 
 
 The pronunciation and meaning of the proper 
 names are indicated phonetically in marginal notes, 
 and the syllable to be stressed is usually marked 
 by an acute ( x ) accent. ' u ' is always pronounced 
 like the ' oo ' in 'pool/ and ' dd ' like the 'th' 
 in 'this.' 'Oi' is a diphthong, and the short ( u ) 
 and long (-) marks indicate the volume of the 
 vowels.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Llew - .... 1 
 
 Bwca'r Trwyn 12 
 
 The Sea-Maiden 24 
 
 Owain of Drws Coed - - 39 
 
 Llyn Tegid - - 50 
 
 Dafydd Meurig - - 62 
 
 Elfod the Priest 76 
 
 The Wyvern - 87 
 
 Meredydd - 103 
 
 The Strand of the Bitter Cry - 113 
 
 Idwal of Nant Clwyd - 138 
 
 Modred the Druid - - - - 148 
 
 Einon and Olwen - - - - 158
 
 A LIST OF THE DRAWINGS. 
 
 Llew - - - Frontispiece 
 
 Bwca'r Trwyn - - Page 16 
 
 Owain of Drws Coed - ,,48 
 
 Dafydd Meurig ,,72 
 
 The Wyvern - 100 
 
 The Strand of the Bitter Cry 136 
 
 Idwal of Nant Clwyd 144 
 
 Einon and Olwen - - - 164
 
 LLEW. 
 
 ONG, long ago, in the village of 
 Pennant, there lived two very poor 
 people who had one little boy named 
 Llew. They were so poor that Llew 
 had to feed on the coarsest food, and he wore scarcely 
 any clothes at all. But that did not trouble him. He 
 was as happy as the day is long, and in the warm 
 summer time he tumbled about amongst the rich hay, 
 while in winter he rolled in the snow, or perhaps 
 climbed the tall trees to keep himself warm. 
 
 One golden summer morning, as he was pushing 
 along through a big swathe of hay, he came to a place 
 where a circle of rich grass grew, under the stems 
 that had fallen before the mowers' scythes. His 
 
 Lieu, 
 lion.
 
 2 WONDER TALES. 
 
 eyes lit upon a tiny old man, whose clothing 
 had got entangled in some thorns. He was the 
 quaintest little thing Llew had ever seen. His coat 
 was blue; and he wore a curious cap fashioned out 
 of skins, while his legs were enclosed in trousers 
 which also covered his feet and came out to a point 
 at his toes. Sad, blinding tears were trickling 
 down his face, his mouth was puckered into 
 sorrowful lines, and his snowy beard lay in confusion 
 over his shoulders. Yet his face was kind, and the 
 boy felt not the slightest fear. 
 
 " Hullo! " said Llew. " Who are you? " 
 
 " Oh! please set me free," cried the little old 
 man. 
 
 " Of course I will! " replied Llew, who was a 
 kind little fellow. " But what's your name? " 
 
 As he said this he gently picked the thorns away 
 from the little man's coat till he was quite at liberty. 
 
 " Thank you, Llew," he said; and sat down on 
 a wisp of hay. " Now you want to know my name, 
 and who I am? Well, I'm one of a large family 
 called the Tylwyth Teg. We live somewhere not 
 far from here, and we love all people who are kind, 
 and hate those who are cruel, and since there is 
 kindness in your heart so that you have done me good
 
 LLEW. 3 
 
 service, whenever you may chance to be in trouble, 
 sing to us, and my kith and kin will be sure to try to 
 help you." And, when he had spoken, he sang a 
 sweet, abiding tune which sank into the lad's heart 
 as the song of the thrush gladdens the traveller in the 
 
 early springtide. 
 
 " Little lad, my little lad, 
 
 Sing for your friend, 
 When your heart is very sad, 
 
 My help I'll send. 
 And wheresoever you may be, 
 When you sing your friend you'll see." 
 
 And lo ! when the song was sung he vanished, and 
 the boy could no longer see him. Yet it seemed to 
 him that music still stole in sweet melody around 
 the circle of rich grass. He went to his home 
 humming the tune softly to himself. 
 
 Very soon afterwards poverty fell even more 
 bitterly upon the poor parents, and they had to send 
 their little boy away to earn his living. They put 
 him with a shoemaker, who lived in a town a long 
 way off, for they thought that if Llew learned how 
 to make boots and shoes he might earn bread for 
 himself in the coming years. 
 
 And now the poor boy had a most unhappy time. 
 His master was harsh and cruel as the sharp 
 east wind, and beat his miserable little servant
 
 4 WONDER TALES. 
 
 unmercifully ; and, though the boy tried his hardest, 
 he could not do anything to please the man. Indeed, 
 the more he tried to please him the more heavily the 
 cruel blows fell. It takes a very long time to learn 
 to make boots and shoes, and Llew's master, who 
 was far from being a clever man himself, seemed to 
 think that his young servant ought to acquire the 
 skill quite easily. Yes, and dull people are often 
 very unfair, for they lack the knowledge which, like 
 a key, opens the door to another's heart. 
 
 One day this dull creature had gone out, leaving 
 Llew a great deal of work to do, and he told him that 
 if it were not all finished by the time he came back 
 he would beat him severely. 
 
 " And this time, my boy, you shall be black and 
 blue all over." 
 
 Poor little Llew I 
 
 The salt tears would come, in spite of his efforts 
 to be brave and do his work, and they fell like the 
 rain which comes from the dark, heavy clouds of the 
 west. Then his sad thoughts travelled to the warm 
 summer fields. He seemed to see the gentle sunshine 
 kissing the delicate leaves as they tossed merrily on 
 the passing breeze; he heard the silvery stream 
 bickering over the rounded stones, and, almost
 
 LLEW. 5 
 
 without knowing what words his lips were framing, 
 he sang from his heart these words of the Tylwyth 
 
 Teg:- 
 
 " Tiny folk as fair as down ! 
 
 Llew's heart is sad. 
 Quit the country, seek the town, 
 
 And make me glad. 
 Come and sing a merry lay, 
 Where you dance there's no dismay." 
 
 Then lo! before the last words had left his 
 trembling lips, truly a strange sight passed before his 
 wondering eyes, and he seemed to be in a strange 
 place rather than in the dirt-stained workroom of 
 the harsh shoemaker. The room was full of the 
 Tylwyth Teg, dancing and jigging over the leather 
 shavings. Gleefully they climbed up the bench and 
 twinkled in merry sport in and out among the old 
 tools. In appearance they were all so much alike 
 that he could not be certain which was his special 
 friend, until he came up, and, in a soft and 
 comforting voice said, " Why didn't you sing 
 before? We cannot come unless you sing." Then, 
 before Llew could reply, the tiny man had skipped 
 away and was hard at work with his comrades. 
 Their little hands sped like the shuttle in the loom, 
 and their voices rose merrily as the song of a bird in 
 a grove when the daylight has driven dark night
 
 6 WONDER TALES. 
 
 over the edge of the world. How they worked ! and 
 how they sang ! Before a hungry horse could eat a 
 nosebagful of oats all the work was done, and in 
 such a way as no shoemaker on earth could do it. 
 
 M Now," said the chief of the Tylwyth Teg, a 
 merry, blue-eyed old fellow with a smile like the 
 mellow autumn, " that's all right for the present; 
 but, my lad, you must be taught to work like this 
 yourself. We will show you! " Thereupon they 
 seized his fingers, and beneath their gentle guidance 
 he soon found himself working almost as skilfully 
 as they did. " Good! Very good! " they cried, 
 and wagged their heads in knowing manner. 
 
 Then from the village street there came the 
 noise of a rambling footstep, and a heavy tread was 
 heard coming along the stone passage. The tiny 
 folk vanished as wonderfully as they had come. 
 Llew's master flung open the door and burst into the 
 room. 
 
 " Now then! " he said in drunken hoarseness, 
 picking up a strap as he spoke, " I'll show you! " 
 
 Even as he spoke his glance fell upon four 
 beautiful pairs of shoes lying finished on the bench. 
 
 " What ! " he gasped. " You didn't But 
 
 you must have! Good gracious! " and he dropped
 
 LLEW. 7 
 
 the strap from his coarse, dirty fingers. 
 
 After this Llew's master grew to be the richest 
 man in the town; but he never thanked Llew. His 
 gratitude lay locked in his heart as the water is 
 gripped by winter's frost. Rather he was harder 
 than ever, and the little fellow's heart was often 
 downcast. But the people of the town said that the 
 shoemaker had never made such boots before Llew 
 came; and they loved the boy, and were very kind 
 to him. 
 
 Now it chanced one day that the king of that 
 realm went hunting the wild creatures that lived in 
 the woods near the town where Llew dwelt, and, 
 while he was riding in much haste, he fell and tore 
 his riding-boots, so that he came into town and asked 
 for a shoemaker. The townsfolk led him to Llew's 
 master, for they explained to the king that he would 
 find at that shop such boots as even a king might 
 wear. As the king entered the shop the man bowed 
 low, and when he had received the royal order he 
 smiled in cunning wise, and then went out. Coming 
 to the low shed where the poor boy sat bravely at his 
 work, he struck him violently, and shouted : 
 
 ' ' Now then, set to work and let me have the best 
 boots you can make."
 
 8 WONDER TALES. 
 
 Then he stood and waited till Llew had finished, 
 and in eager haste carried them back himself. 
 Placing before the king the boots, which were perfect 
 in size and workmanship, he said humbly : 
 
 " There they are, your Majesty," and knelt 
 in lowly reverence upon the floor. 
 
 When he saw the boots, the king was lost in 
 astonishment, and exclaimed : 
 
 " Well, you are the cleverest workman I have 
 ever seen ! But stay ! Did you make them 
 yourself? " 
 
 Then the shoemaker made answer, " Yes, sire; 
 
 I " but lo! there burst from his lips an awful 
 
 scream, and in great haste he put his hand down to 
 his leg. For all unseen one of the Tylwyth Teg, 
 hearing the false words, had run a long sharp needle 
 right through his stocking into his stubborn flesh. 
 But the shoemaker, feeling the bewildered glance of 
 the king was upon him, made haste to recover him- 
 self, and said, " I crave your Majesty's pardon. 
 
 Yes, indeed, sire, I made " There came an 
 
 agonising scream, vastly louder than before, and he 
 yelled and danced in prolonged agony. 
 
 " Come now! " said the king growing 
 suspicious, " did you really make them yourself? "
 
 LLEW. 9 
 
 Then the shoemaker, in dread of another agony, 
 did not again attempt to deceive, but went in shame 
 and anger, and bringing Llew presented him to the 
 king, who was astonished to find so young a boy so 
 clever a craftsman. He left orders that Llew was to 
 go and dwell at the palace, and be shoemaker to the 
 royal family. 
 
 Then the lad remembered the old folks at home 
 and sent them gifts from his abundance. Often as 
 he lay in his soft, warm bed, there would come in the 
 stillness of the night a tiny voice which sang in 
 his ear : 
 
 " Little Llew, you shall be King! 
 
 Some day, some day, 
 You must make a fairy ring 
 
 Where we can play, 
 In the night when watch dogs sleep, 
 And the stars all silent creep. 
 
 Near your palace build a wall 
 
 Round gardens bright; 
 Plant the foxgloves gay and tall, 
 
 The hemlock white, 
 Willow herb and crane-bill's lance 
 Where the Tylwyth Teg may dance." 
 
 And, when several years had rolled away over the 
 distant mountains, and dropped silently into the 
 mist beyond the ocean, the words of the song were 
 fulfilled.
 
 10 WONDER TALES. 
 
 In time the king of the realm went to war. 
 ' ' Make yourself a pair of shoes as fast as the wind, ' ' 
 was whispered to Llew, " and stand forth as the 
 king's messenger." The tiny folk gave him a 
 wonderful coat wrought skilfully of gossamer thread 
 so that none might see him when he wore it. Hither 
 and thither sped Llew through the ways of war, 
 gathering news for the king. Unseen he passed 
 through the enemy's camp, learned their plans as 
 they framed them in secrecy, and bore the tidings to 
 his royal master. When red blood had ceased to 
 flow, and the dogs of war fled speedily from the land, 
 the king rode in triumph to his palace, and made 
 Llew his chief minister; but, honoured with titles, 
 and dignified with rank, the youth still won every- 
 body's love by his kindness and thoughtfulness. 
 Among others, who loved him was the king's fair 
 daughter, and after a time they were joined in 
 wedlock. So, when the old king passed away to his 
 forefathers and lay silent in death's long sleep, 
 Llew reigned in his stead. 
 
 But he always remembered the gentle kindness of 
 the Tylwyth Teg. Outside his palace there was a 
 beautiful garden, stocked with fragrant roses and 
 all the fair flowers that grow in the meadows, or by
 
 LLEW. 
 
 11 
 
 the river-side. Silvery fountains leapt gleaming 
 and sparkling in the rays of the sun, and little 
 murmuring streams flowed merrily along. People 
 said that sometimes when the moon was silver bright, 
 if any one peeped over the wall of that garden there 
 might be seen a band of many little folk, dancing 
 hand in hand through the drops that fell glittering 
 in the moonlight. 
 
 When Llew heard this he smiled. Perhaps it 
 was true. What do you think about it?
 
 BWCA'R TRWYN 
 or 
 
 THE BIG-NOSED BOGIE. 
 
 HERE he came from nobody knew, but 
 there he was without any doubt. 
 When the farm servants met together 
 round the nut-brown ale of a Saturday 
 night, each one had strange tales to tell of what had 
 happened during the week. One man told how 
 somebody had pinched him on the back of the neck, 
 and on turning round to see who it was, lo ! there was 
 empty air and a mocking laugh. A maid had heard 
 a terrible noise in the cowhouse, and, rushing to see 
 what it was, she just caught sight of a brown, hairy 
 hand disappearing through a chink in the opposite 
 wall; and so the tales went on. But one girl never 
 
 Buka r truin, 
 bogey of the 
 nose.
 
 BWCA'R TRWYN. 13 
 
 said a word. She simply sat mum. The other folk 
 
 glanced at her from time to time in a meaning sort of 
 
 way; but she took no notice. She was, indeed, a 
 
 very strange sort of girl. Her name was Mari, and Modrib Mari, 
 
 they called her Modryb Mari. 
 
 No one knew anything at all about Mari save that 
 the mistress had bought her at the fair, and people 
 said that she was one of the Bendith y Mamau. Bendithe 
 Before she had come to the farm everything had 1^^^ 
 gone on in quite an ordinary way; but from the the mothers - 
 moment of her arrival these strange things began 
 to happen. A cow had spoken like a man. The 
 Sunday cake had a big stone in the middle of it, and 
 the stockings of the farmer's wife were always found 
 in the morning tied in a knot. People said that 
 when the house was quiet at night time a sturdy 
 goblin used to come, and, stretched out full length, 
 bask himself to sleep before the fire. In the morning, 
 after drinking up the remainder of the milk, he 
 popped out of doors before anyone could catch him. 
 And, somehow or other, all these things were put 
 down to Modryb Mari. 
 
 Well, the truth of the whole matter was that 
 Mari and the goblin were capital friends, and quite 
 understood each other. No maid on the farm
 
 14 WONDER TALES. 
 
 worked less than Mari, and yet no one did more 
 than she. This was because she understood the 
 goblin so well. For he was the cleverest goblin the 
 world has ever known, although no one realised at 
 the time that he had such a huge nose. That was 
 discovered much later on ; but we shall find out about 
 his nose in due course. Mari understood all about 
 his cleverness long before she came to the farm. 
 They were old friends; and but for Mari's 
 foolishness might have remained so to the end of 
 the chapter. That is really the worst thing about 
 women all the world over. They are too inquisitive, 
 and too much inclined to be rather hard on their 
 best friends. At any rate so it was with Mari. 
 
 This goblin could turn his hand to anything. 
 He washed the clothes for Mari, and they looked 
 as white as driven snow. He ironed, and the linen 
 was never so much as scorched. He span wool and 
 twisted it into skeins; his work at the spinning 
 wheel was wonderful. The wheel flew round at a 
 furious rate and the thread never snapped while he 
 was spinning. Bwca did all this work and much 
 more besides dusting, washing up, milking there 
 was no end to all his cleverness; and he did it all 
 for Mari.
 
 BWCA'R TRWYN. 15 
 
 But goblins, like human beings, must be 
 rewarded for their toil. Even an honest man will 
 look out anxiously for pay-day, and Bwca liked a 
 pay-day every day, for he had a weakness, a most 
 decided weakness, for bread and milk. It is true 
 that cream was a great favourite of his, especially 
 the top-skimming ; but bread and milk was the real 
 stuff for him. He liked it warm with some sugar. 
 That was all the wages Bwca desired ; and that was 
 all Mari gave him. Each night as she went up to 
 bed she placed the bowl of bread and milk at the foot 
 of the stairs for him to come and fetch when he was 
 ready. This had gone on for such a time it was 
 no wonder that the other servants looked askance, 
 or that strange things happened when Mari came 
 to the farm. 
 
 Now if Mari had been wise she would have 
 raised Bwca's wages rather than have tried to cheat 
 the poor goblin out of his bread and milk. But, as 
 you have heard, she was too inquisitive; and this 
 was the reason. Never since they had been partners 
 had she seen this hard-working goblin, never once. 
 She left the full bowl by the stairs at night ; and she 
 picked it up empty in the morning. All the work 
 that had to be done stood waiting in the kitchen,
 
 16 WONDER TALES. 
 
 and, sure enough, next morning the wool was spun 
 and twisted, or the sewing finished. Sometimes 
 she said, " Bwca, what are you like to look at? " 
 And then Bwca used to go away without giving 
 any reply. 
 
 So one sad night, after such a disappearance, 
 Mari, out of mere spite, put in the bowl some brine 
 in which a ham had been soaking for a week, and 
 left the brew for Bwca's supper. Foolish maid that 
 she was, for dire and lasting trouble came speedily 
 upon her. At the first mouthful by the kitchen fire 
 Bwca's face had twisted in all directions at once, and 
 his furry, pointed ears had stuck up as straight as a 
 dog's tail. " Faugh ! ugh ! p-p-pla ! " he said, and 
 dashed the bowl to the ground in fury. Then he 
 stood behind the kitchen door, and never budged 
 all night. 
 
 In the morning down came Mari. No empty 
 bowl by the stairs ; dust on the floor ; and through the 
 open door of the scullery a vision of last night's 
 supper things still unwashed! She turned the 
 handle of the kitchen door in haste, when oh ! what 
 a terrible trouble came upon her The goblin was 
 waiting there patiently. He sprang out, seized her 
 by the scruff of her neck, and screamed in anger :
 
 BWCA'E TEWYN 
 
 "Each night as she went up to bed she placed the bowl of bread 
 and milk at the foot of the stairs for him."
 
 BWCA'R TRWYN. 17 
 
 " To think of your giving me brine instead of 
 my bread and milk! After all that I have done 
 for you ! You hoi den ! You wretched gipsy ! I'll 
 twist your neck for you ! No more sticks I'll fetch 
 for firing! Brine! The Idea of it !" So he 
 went on, and as he spoke he kicked, and as he kicked 
 he pinched and scratched. 
 
 With her hands over her ears to shut out the 
 din and ward off the blows Mari ran from the room 
 shrieking for help. And after her went Bwca, 
 kicking, raving, and red with anger. 
 
 " Help! help! " cried the wretched girl. 
 
 " I'll make you call for help," screamed Bwca, 
 and flung himself upon her shoulders and hammered 
 away with his fists. 
 
 After some time Mari's cries woke up the other 
 servants; they came rushing down stairs, pell mell, 
 to find Mari sitting on the floor, her face black and 
 blue and scratched miserably, her hair (such as 
 was left) twisted almost out of her head. Bwca 
 had gone, and no one at the farm ever saw him 
 again. 
 
 But Bwca had to live even goblins must eat; 
 and for two years people in the neighbourhood 
 missed things. Food disappeared at night : Now 
 
 c
 
 18 WONDEE TALES. 
 
 it was cheese; now a roasted fowl; another time a 
 
 dish of custard; and suspicion always pointed its 
 
 finger at the poor Elf. Then it would seem that he 
 
 went to live at Hafod yr Ynys, where he struck up Havoderinn 
 
 a warm friendship with Eilian Elis. Eilian was dwelling 
 
 crafty, for she knew all about Mari's misfortune, of the island. 
 
 So she fed the little goblin as though he were a 
 
 turkey cock. Warm bread and milk never failed 
 
 him, and sometimes there was a piece of butter and 
 
 some treacle. Other tit-bits came as well, so life 
 
 was paradise for Bwca. He span wool, he wound 
 
 yarn, and the spinning wheel worked so swiftly that 
 
 if it had not been a first-class piece of machinery it 
 
 would have been torn to pieces. No brine for Bwca 
 
 at Hafod yr Ynys. Not so ! but the fat of the land, 
 
 milk and honey, and the first cut from the joint. 
 
 Yet affliction came to him even there. 
 
 It came in this manner : 
 
 " What is your name, dear? " asked Eilian Elis 
 one day. 
 
 " Never you mind that," quoth Bwca. " That's 
 my affair." 
 
 " But, sweetheart, do tell me," said Eilian. 
 
 " I will not," said Bwca. 
 
 " Not if I give you a basin of bread and milk
 
 BWCA'R TRWYN. 19 
 
 twice as large for your supper, Lovey? " 
 
 ' ' Not if you give me everything ! ' ' was the 
 reply. 
 
 Then Eilian, with the cunning of her sex, took 
 refuge in artfulness. One evening as the men and 
 maids went out, and Bwca took up his task at the 
 spinning wheel, she made as though she were going 
 out also, and banging the kitchen door, stood in 
 silence outside. As he began to spin, he sang in a 
 low, deep voice a sort of chant : 
 
 " The maid would laugh could she but win 
 To know my name is Bwca'r Trwyn." 
 
 Open flew the door, and from the foot of the 
 stairs the stupid Eilian shrilled out : 
 
 " Well! Bwca'r Trwyn! What a name to be 
 sure! " 
 
 There was a crash, a howl of pain, and Bwca 
 had gone for ever from Hafod yr Ynys. The 
 spinning-wheel was smashed to atoms. 
 
 The world was not kind to poor Trwyn, was it ? 
 But worse was to follow. For a time he companied 
 with Evan, a serving man at a farm not very far 
 away, and did him many a good turn till Evan had 
 to go away to fight against Richard Crookback. 
 Sad to tell, he was killed on Bosworth Field, and,
 
 20 WONDER TALES. 
 
 as his friend did not return, Bwca began to be a 
 mischance to the farmer. Sometimes when the 
 oxen were ploughing an unseen hand would turn 
 them round in the middle of the field. The cows 
 trod in the milk pail; the bee-hive was overturned; 
 two cows were found with their tails knotted 
 together; the milkmaid dared not go alone to the 
 milking-shed ; a calf was born with three eyes. 
 Pranks and mischief never ceased, until the farmer 
 waxed desperate and determined to ask help of the 
 priest from the village in the valley. The priest 
 asked many questions : Had anyone seen the 
 goblin? How long had this mischief continued? 
 Had he ever injured anyone? Did he ever speak? 
 When the priest had learned all he could, he arose 
 with a very grave look on his face. Taking his 
 candle, his bell, and his book he motioned to the 
 farmer to lead the way to the farm. 
 
 When they drew near the farm, the moon was 
 shining at the full and the night was very warm, 
 for it was Midsummer Eve. Just as they entered 
 the house a long, low, cunning laugh was heard from 
 the store cupboard. It was the laugh of one who 
 has found what he has long been seeking, and, 
 having found, is full of contentment. So they went
 
 BWCA'R TRWYN. 21 
 
 on tiptoe and looked in through the keyhole. The 
 goblin was sitting on a shelf, with a bowl of bread 
 and milk on his knees, gulping down great, 
 dripping, greedy handfuls, while the milk was 
 trickling down his hairy chin. 
 
 " Lock the door ! " whispered the priest, and the 
 farmer obeyed. 
 
 "Now we have him," whispered the priest; 
 " but, before I begin, fetch an awl." 
 
 So the farmer fetched one. Then the priest, in 
 deep, commanding accents, began to read, and, as he 
 read, he rang his bell in steady, slow movement. 
 There was a sound of scuffling in the pantry, 
 followed by a hard push at the door. But still the 
 good priest read steadily the glorious words of his 
 holy book, and never ceased ringing his bell, while 
 the farmer held the candle for him to see what was 
 written. A howl came from within, and dishes were 
 dashed on the ground. The farmer could distinctly 
 hear the big milk jug fall crashing to the floor. 
 
 " Let me out," screamed Bwca'r Trwyn. 
 
 But the priest went on reading. The noise was 
 now terrific, and a loud crash on the panel of the 
 door split the wood, and through the gap appeared 
 Bwca's long nose. In a moment the farmer had
 
 22 WONDER TALES. 
 
 run an awl through the nose from one side to the 
 other, and the deed was done. Bwca was a captive; 
 and there he remained, fuming, yet firmly fixed, 
 till the calm and holy man had finished chanting 
 the words that freed the land from the lubber 
 fiend. 
 
 " In the name of St. Francis and St. Benedict 
 I command thee to haste to the banks of the Red 
 Sea, O Goblin. Appear not in the sight of man till 
 fourteen generations (yea, mark, twice seven, that 
 holy number), have come and gone. Thou shalt 
 pass hither by the upper wind, so that, as thou 
 wendest thy way, thou shalt cause no harm or 
 hindrance to the sons of men. Avaunt, and quit 
 my sight! *'' 
 
 As the priest spoke these words a loud wind 
 began to sweep around the house till the fabric shook 
 to its foundation. Screaming, wailing noises were 
 heard, and the farmer hid his face in his hands. 
 But the priest took hold of the awl, drew it from 
 Bwca's nose, and stood aside. Out fled the goblin 
 with a scream of impotent anger, and so passed 
 into the night. 
 
 Such was the power of the priest that never since 
 in that neighbourhood has sprite or goblin troubled
 
 BWCA'R TRWYN. 
 
 23 
 
 house or shelter or food of any kind. Yet 
 sometimes, when the wind is high, there comes down 
 from the hills a low wailing, and then men who are 
 wise close every door and window in the house, and 
 build big fires on the hearth.
 
 THE SEA-MAIDEN. 
 
 VERY day in the week, on Sundays and 
 Holy-days as well as workadays, If an Ivan 
 
 John. 
 
 Morgan would be down by the sea 
 feasting his eyes on the dancing, 
 glancing waves. Before the first trembling light 
 began to turn the eastern sky a pearly grey, and 
 before the bush-birds gave their first sleepy tweet- 
 tweet, If an was wending his way to the waves. Nor 
 was this strange, for Ifan's forefathers had done 
 the same thing; and, in his childhood, he had seen 
 his father fishing in the sea, or watching from the 
 shore. And so If an Morgan was like his forefathers. 
 Sometimes in the season he went to catch the frisky 
 mackerel, or the silver herring when it came in shoals
 
 THE SEA MAIDEN. 25 
 
 near the coast. But his chief delight was to walk 
 along the sea-shore and see what good things his 
 uncle Daf y Jones would bring him ; for that was the 
 name by which the Morgans called the great wide sea. 
 One morning, just as the first pale blue of the 
 dawn stole out of the night, Ifan sat by the great 
 yawning mouths of the dark caves that lay under the 
 hill-sides. His eyes seemed busy searching for 
 something that could not be found, and, ever and 
 anon, they wandered towards, and dwelt upon the 
 cave of Deio. Fishermen whispered strange and Ddo (short 
 
 . for David). 
 
 wonderful things about this cave ; and there it stood, 
 grim and stark, in the wreathing mists of the 
 morning, a dark patch open to the curling sea. One 
 of Ifan's ancestors had had strange commerce in 
 this cave; and people wondered as to what manner 
 of things happened in its murky depths. Some said 
 that old Deio used to deal there with folk he should 
 not have met, for he carried with him gifts of gold 
 and silver from somewhere; but no one knew whence. 
 The story went on to say that Deio had for his wife, 
 in that dark abode, a sea-maiden. That must be clear 
 for anyone to guess. ' Otherwise there was no 
 reason for his disappearance for weeks at a time, 
 and his possession of these gifts. But although
 
 26 WONDER TALES. 
 
 fishermen often went to seek him they could never 
 trace his whereabouts. 
 
 And by this cave sat our friend Ifan, for the 
 times were hard, and a great desire had come upon 
 him to enter the gloomy portals. For more than two 
 years no wreck had come upon that coast. The 
 outlook was very sad for the coming winter, and the 
 mackerel and herring seemed to shun the shore. Up 
 stood Ifan, and, with his mind all of a tremble, he 
 drew near to the mouth that darksome, open 
 mouth! And then he came away! Again he 
 approached, wondering if he dared. The tide was 
 running out, he was a good swimmer, and yet he 
 could not enter. 
 
 " If the sea-maiden came to me," he said, as 
 he sat down once more, " if she came, I should run 
 for my life. And what would be the good of that ? 
 Nothing whatever. I must clutch her, and beg her 
 to marry me, or else I shall get no money. If I 
 married her, then I should have wealth and all the 
 money I could want, and that would be something 
 worth having." Ifan scratched his head, and 
 looked deep into the dark depths. 
 
 As he gazed, his eyes saw farther into the dark- 
 ness and they caught sight of a candle that shed a
 
 THE SEA MAIDEN. 27 
 
 pale, green light upon a narrow strip of sand which 
 lay along a pool. By this pool sat a young girl 
 combing her hair. Never had If an seen aught so 
 lovely. Her fair skin was soft and shimmered like 
 satin, and hair fell in silky, golden showers around 
 her knees. If an went slowly towards her, and, as he 
 approached, he heard her weeping bitterly and 
 sighing sorely, while the glittering tears dropped 
 from her eyelids like spring rain-drops sparkling 
 from the sky. He put out his great rough hand and 
 gently stroked her soft, yielding hair in order to 
 check her sorrow. Then he dared to touch her hand, 
 but she uttered a scream like a savage thing caught 
 in a net, and in spite of all his efforts to calm her, 
 she grew more and more wild and timorous. 
 
 If an knew not what to do. That he was fortunate 
 to be by the side of such a young and wealthy maiden 
 he felt certain. But how could he win her consent 
 to marriage so that he might get gold and silver 
 wealth? In her hand she held her golden comb, 
 and around her fair neck hung a chain of gleaming 
 pearls. If an's heart failed him ; all he could do was 
 to pat her hair as though she were one of his brother's 
 children, that her fear might depart. At last he 
 tried again to hold her white hand ; but, thereupon,
 
 28 WONDER TALES. 
 
 she screamed like half-a-dozen young screech owls, 
 and I fan heard afar off an answering cry. 
 
 " Go away," she cried; " my brother is coming. 
 Hasten ! but come to-morrow." 
 
 Then there leaped upon I fan a spray which 
 blinded him, and the pale flame of the green candle 
 went out. Hither and thither was Ifan flung in the 
 waters of the cavern. A rope passed over his head, 
 and he bethought him to utter " Our Father," but 
 there was no time amid the strife. Then in the 
 twinkling of an eye, he was drawn without the cave, 
 and though its sides were sharp with jutting rocks, 
 and great blue stones lay under the surface of the 
 water, yet he had no harm. The rope was still about 
 him and lay around his waist, and, although he 
 feared to touch it, he longed to draw it to him, for it 
 would make a splendid cable for his boat. In spite 
 of fear he dragged it from the sea. Lo ! at its other 
 end he saw fastened a large trunk. He pulled 
 eagerly, and, despite its heavy weight, still he tugged 
 more strongly. But before he could pull it in to the 
 beach, behold, a mighty wave swelled up in the sea, 
 and dragged him out of his depth; then once again 
 the sea leaped up, and a wave with a snowy crest 
 lifted him on its bosom, and he found that he stood
 
 THE SEA MAIDEN. 29 
 
 by the side of the trunk, upon a grassy mound, near 
 the shore. 
 
 Who can tell of Ifan's joy when he saw the 
 treasure nestling in the heart of that trunk ? Rings 
 set with sparkling gems; chains that glittered like 
 the falling waters when they are scattered from the 
 rock in the sunshine; pearls as white as snow, and 
 rubies red as fire treasures without price lay before 
 his wondering eyes. He hid them in haste, and, by 
 night, he crept backwards and forwards till all was 
 safe and sound in his cottage home. Then he went 
 to bed and slept. 
 
 While yet a few pale stars twinkled faintly in 
 the roseate sky, Ifan walked with a wondering 
 mind towards the cave of Deio. Far he wandered 
 in the faint and misty light, and ever his thought left 
 him no peace. He wished now he had brought a 
 torch to lighten the darkness of his mystic cave. 
 Now he trembled lest the treasure were the subtle 
 creation of a dream woven in the sleep of the night. 
 Long he waited in the cavern; but no one came, and 
 at last he made his way homeward, feeling that all 
 was not real, and he had but dreamed a dream. Yet 
 at home there lay the wondrous heap of jewels in 
 their settings, so he placed them in skilful array in
 
 30 WONDER TALES. 
 
 many a cunning corner, and, when the night had 
 come, he sank again to sleep. 
 
 Then, in the darkness, a form came nigh unto 
 him, and damp arms wrapped themselves around 
 him. The more he strove to free himself, the closer 
 grew the embrace, and he heard a whisper, faint 
 as the breath of evening, speak the words, ' ' Forget 
 not to be early in the morn! " " Stay! " cried 
 If an. " Wait till I get a light, and I will rise 
 immediately." But before the words had left his 
 lips the visitor had gone ; there was nothing. If an, 
 rising in haste searched for his treasure, and he saw 
 it by the candle light, gleaming and glittering, gold 
 and silver, gems and pearls, charms and jewels 
 without number. 
 
 Again the sun stole silently through the curtain 
 of the heavens, and Ifan set out for the shore, while 
 fear possessed him as he wandered by the silvery 
 sea. Yes, indeed, fear that never more would his 
 eyes look upon the little white house with thatched 
 roof, the home of his birth and childhood. Then 
 again his heart beat, and he saw in his mind a vision 
 of comfort and welfare. As he mused he stood 
 among his comrades by the sea while they pulled 
 their nets to the shore. It was terrible to hear their
 
 THE SEA MAIDEN. 31 
 
 language when the nets came home ; for not a fish lay 
 within the meshes, and one man cried, " That curse 
 of a sea-maiden has opened our nets and set free the 
 fish." 
 
 Ifan stole stealthily away, and then sped along 
 the shore. When he reached Deio's cave, whom 
 should he see at the entrance but the maiden sleeking 
 her hair with a golden comb. Yet to him marvellous 
 was the change which transformed her. Before, she 
 was but a slim girl ; now she stood dressed richly like 
 some great lady, and wearing upon her head a crown 
 of purest gold. As Ifan approached she held out 
 her fair hand, saying : 
 
 " Comest thou, Ifan? I wish to dwell awhile 
 among the people of the land. Keep this," quoth 
 she, handing him a magic cap, " and I will wear a 
 crown, for I am a king's daughter." 
 
 Ifan bent low before her, overcome by her 
 wondrous beauty, and marvelling that she could be 
 the same. 
 
 While yet the mists trembled in the embrace of 
 the morning they two went their way, and Ifan was 
 without speech, for he knew not what to say. He 
 feared to mention his humble home, but even as this 
 thought trod the pathways of his brain she knew of
 
 32 WONDER TALES. 
 
 its existence. Turning to him, with a smile like the 
 tender light which steals through the ivy into a 
 darkened room, she said with a ripple of laughter 
 in her voice : 
 
 " I know quite well that thou knowest not how 
 to tell me of thy home. But think not of that, for I 
 have long known thee, and seen thee oft, ever since, 
 as a young lad with rosy cheek, thou didst fish from 
 thy father's boat in the bay. In those days, I heard 
 thee sing a song which won for thee the love of my 
 heart. When I spake of thy song and sought to sing 
 it to my father in his palace, all wondered at its 
 music, and wished to hear it from end to end. So 
 I came back often and listened for it, but in vain. 
 Then was I permitted by those who love me to come 
 seeking for thee with treasures, seeking that soul- 
 melody which will not be taught save by treasure. 
 Yet when I met thee I knew that wealth alone would 
 not avail to win thee, but that I must appear as now 
 thou seest me. My name is Nefyn and I am the 
 daughter to Nefydd-Naf-Neifion. Nor am I without Nevith-Nav- 
 
 Nivion, Nefyd 
 
 relations in thy world. Think then no more of thy Lord of Lords 
 
 cottage, but do as thou dost desire, and all shall be 
 
 well.' 5 
 
 Then Ifan asked her timidly if she would be his
 
 THE SEA MAIDEN. 33 
 
 bride, and dwell with him for better or for worse? 
 She answered that she was fain to do so, if he would 
 teach her his song, nor let her see the mystic cap. 
 Then as the day grew brighter so more radiant 
 seemed the face of his affianced bride, while Ifan's 
 song came to him again, and he sang it to Nefyn : Nevin - 
 
 " Oh, feathered friend with pure blue wing, 
 
 Mild and obedient as a dove, 
 Now speed thee, speed thee to the maid 
 
 Who captured all my youthful love. 
 Tea, hasten, bird, and tell my sweet, 
 Tears stain my face, 
 
 They never tire. 
 For her embrace 
 
 I burn with fire 
 Love lingers in my very pace. 
 
 Ah ! Beauty slaying me with love 
 May God be gracious to such grace! " 
 
 Yet their marriage was not easy, for the news 
 spread abroad that Nefyn was a sea-maiden, and 
 it was only by their wealth that all was settled. 
 Then indeed they dwelt together in happiness, 
 wandering hand in hand by the sea-shore, and often 
 entering thus into the cave. 
 
 Time sped by and Ifan and Nefyn were as nobles 
 in the land. Never was wife more tender and full 
 of grace, nor husband more loving. There were 
 born to them three sons and three daughters, and 
 
 D
 
 34 WONDER TALES. 
 
 these children were beauteous as the young and 
 slender flowers that grow in the meadows in the 
 spring time. 
 
 One fine day when the sunlight dwelt upon the 
 ocean and its rays were so strong that the young fish 
 could be seen passing to and fro in the crystal depths, 
 Ifan and Nefyn and their children went over the sea 
 in a boat. Suddenly a storm sprang from the sky 
 and the huge waves leapt to meet it. Through the 
 tumult of air and water, screams and cries could be 
 heard, and the children were sorely affrighted. 
 Seeing their terror Nefyn bent over the side of the 
 boat, and her moving lips showed that she was 
 speaking to some one in the depths beneath. Great 
 was the awe of the children at this, and they 
 remembered the rumours that surrounded their 
 mother's origin. Then Nefydd, the eldest son, 
 thought of all he had heard from his parents of 
 Nefydd-Naf-Neifion, and the valleys of Gwenhidiw, 
 and the country of Gwyn ab Nudd (whose prince 
 came to visit them) and his heart sank, for to him 
 his mother was beautiful beyond compare, tenderest 
 and kindest of all the world. Could she indeed be a 
 sea-maiden from the unknown and mystic depths of 
 the great grey sea ?
 
 THE SEA MAIDEN. 35 
 
 One day there rode up to the home of I fan a 
 messenger, and, at night, when the crescent moon 
 was sharp, pointed and pale in the western sky, If an 
 and Nefyn departed, leaving the children in charge 
 of a trusted servant. Then Nefydd, who watched 
 them go, said to Eilonwy, his sister, " Why should Eil6nui 
 they set out by night? " So they followed them 
 along the shore. And lo ! a huge wave rose from out 
 the glassy sea, and Nefyn, wrapping Ifan and 
 herself in a cloak of skin, sank into the water's heart 
 and passed from sight. At the sad knowledge of his 
 mother's secret, the heart of Nefydd broke within 
 him, and his sister, seeing that her brother was dead, 
 no more desired to live, and flung herself into the 
 sea. 
 
 As Eilonwy fell into the waves, a knight of 
 beauteous form, and riding on a snow-white horse, 
 came galloping swiftly over the waves, and bending 
 low from the saddle caught the maiden in his arms, 
 and bore her swiftly away. 
 
 In the house of Ifan all was confusion. Nefydd 
 was dead, Eilonwy had cast herself away and could 
 not be found. What could be done? Then spake 
 Tegid, the brave, handsome brother : 
 
 "If we get no message ere the morrow we must
 
 36 WONDER TALES. 
 
 bury Nefydd in the waves, and perchance some of 
 my mother's kinsfolk will come and fetch him." 
 
 But at midnight a knight came to the house and 
 bade them bury their brother as the early grey dawn 
 crept over the sea. 
 
 " Yet," said he, " do not mourn for Nefydd. 
 He shall come back to you and dwell with you once 
 more. And Eilonwy, the fair, lives as the bride of 
 the brightest and bravest knight of Gwerddonau- 
 Llion." 
 
 At dawn, they bore the coffin out to sea, and lo ! 
 as it sank into the cold waves, those who watched 
 saw Nefydd leave its shelter, and, with his arm 
 around the self -same messenger who bade them hope, 
 he passed into a ship which flew away with them. 
 Then, of a truth, wonder reigned all over the land 
 as to what would happen thereafter. 
 
 Time sped by, and, when a year and a day had 
 passed, Ifan, royal in aspect and decked in regal 
 robes, came to his home. Nefyn did not return, for 
 she dwelt with her daughter for a time. All was 
 joy in the homestead, yet in the midst of the joy came 
 the dark stab of sorrow, for Ifan, in the night which 
 followed, sank into a death slumber, and could not 
 be awakened. Rumour told of a black warrior,
 
 THE SEA MAIDEN. 37 
 
 who, in the night, stole silently to the house, and as 
 silently departed. 
 
 On the morning of Ifan's burial Nefyn returned 
 to the sad home. Bitterly she wept, and in a brief 
 space she left the house again, and Tegid remained 
 as lord. Verily his lot was sad, and he needed all 
 his courage to face the dark looks of his neighbours. 
 So threatening did they become that he sent his 
 sisters away to be educated elsewhere, and he and 
 his brother remained to face the tumult. 
 
 One night the brothers dreamed the same dream. 
 They saw, as it were, the black knight pass into 
 Deio's cave. In the morning they went in haste to 
 see if it were so, and before their very eyes the ship 
 which brought their sisters home again was cast upon 
 the rocky shore, and shattered. Yet they hastened 
 to the cave, and here to their horror they beheld the 
 gleaming coils of a huge serpent. As Tegid lifted 
 his sword to strike, the serpent cried aloud : 
 
 " Strike me not, Tegid, for I am thy sister 
 imprisoned by the black knight." 
 
 As she spoke the black knight came from a deep 
 recess, and whirling his sword aloft struck off the 
 serpent's head. But in vain. Another head came 
 in its place, and, as it did so, a knight clad in white
 
 38 WONDER TALES. 
 
 armour strode from another part. Then the sound 
 of shrewd and awful blows resounded in Deio's cave. 
 Full soon, however, the black knight lay dead in the 
 dark cavern, and, as he died, Eilonwy sprang from 
 the serpent's slough, and Nefyn rose from the waves 
 and bore her children to their father's court all, 
 that is, except Tegid. He, loving his father dearly, 
 remained for a year and a day by Ifan's grave, often 
 consoled by Nefyn, who came to visit him. Great 
 was his gladness when one day to the faithful lad 
 came Ifan himself. After a long, fond embrace, 
 Tegid, leaning on his loving father's arm, went 
 joyfully to meet his kinsfolk at the Court of Nefydd.
 
 OWAIN OF DRWS COED. 
 
 NTIL he reached the age of twenty no 
 son could have been more devoted to 
 his parents than Owain of Drws Coed. 
 They loved him dearly, for he was 
 their only child, and in return for their love Owain 
 scarcely ever left his father and mother. As soon 
 as he had finished the work of the farm, he would 
 come in and join the old people, talk with them, 
 and sing in a clear, musical voice many of the songs 
 that they rejoiced to hear. He could play on the 
 harp, and that made his song yet more delightful for 
 those who listened. 
 
 Druce Koid, 
 door of wood.
 
 40 WONDER TALES. 
 
 Sometimes the people in the village, friends of 
 the family at Drws Coed, would come to spend the 
 evening, and Owain sang to them as well. They 
 begged him to sing and play on the harp, for they 
 said, " No one sings like Owain, and his harp is 
 very sweet." And the maidens of the village looked 
 shyly, yet with admiration, at Owain, for he was 
 tall and straight as an arrow, and his eyes were 
 deep and tender in their regard. Indeed, everyone 
 loved Owain; but Owain did not love everybody 
 only the dear old folk who lived in the ancient grey 
 house of Drws Coed. So his boyhood slipped away, 
 as the hours pass on a summer's morning, and lo ! 
 Owain was twenty. 
 
 One day the mists came rolling down the 
 mountain-sides like great puffs of breath from a 
 giant's mouth. Vast ragged shreds they were as 
 they left the mountain-top, and they came down to 
 the valley as though the giant wished to hide the 
 whole world from his view. Owain led his sheep 
 lower down the slope, because the mist had laid 
 thousands of sparkling drops upon the grass, and 
 moss-covered rocks, and also on the backs of the 
 sheep; and there was no blue sky to be seen 
 anywhere. He wished to find a sheltered spot in the
 
 OWAIN OF DRWS COED. 41 
 
 well-known valley where the flock could be safely 
 
 shut in a pen. As he drove them before him he 
 
 reached Cwm Marchnad, where the reeds grow tall Koom March- 
 
 and rich, and the ground is always marshy. Owain 
 
 little thought what was awaiting him in this place; 
 
 but he went on, driving his sheep before him, and 
 
 thinking of the old folk at home. 
 
 Then, all at once, his eye beheld under the 
 shelter of a large, grassy mound a figure which made 
 his heart throb and leap within him. It was a 
 young and exceedingly beautiful woman. Never 
 had Owain dreamed that such beauty could be upon 
 our earth ; for this lass as much surpassed the gentle 
 maids of the village as the delicate, winning wild- 
 rose surpassed the wool flowers his mother worked 
 into her patterns. He could only stand and stare 
 at her with all his might, as though he wished his 
 eyes could drink in all her beauty. 
 
 Her hair was very long, and lay about her in 
 curling masses of fine golden threads. So very 
 golden was it that it seemed to have caught some of 
 the rays of the hidden sun. Her eyes were as blue 
 and sparkling as the summer skies, and her forehead 
 was as white as the foam that dwells on the leaping 
 wave, or as the snow new fallen from heaven. Her
 
 42 WONDER TALES. 
 
 face was rounded with the fresh beauty of youth, 
 and her cheek blushed like the red roses of summer, 
 and as Owain looked at her lips, which were small 
 and perfectly shaped, and rich in colour, he thought 
 they were so pretty that even an angel would desire 
 to kiss them. Yet Owain had never before had the 
 thought of love in his heart, and he loved best of all 
 to sing and play the harp to the old people at Drws 
 Coed. But now love had surged through his veins 
 as the rich light of the early summer floods the fields 
 of young corn, and ripens them to harvest. He was 
 heartstricken ; yea, he who was so timid and shy 
 drew near to the wondrous girl, as pieces of paper 
 fly towards amber. In faltering words, and 
 speaking rather with his eyes than with his voice, 
 he asked her whether he might stay and converse 
 with her. She smiled courteously upon him, and, 
 reaching forth a hand pure white as the drooping 
 snowdrop, took his rough, red hand and said, ' ' Idol 
 of my hopes, thou hast come at last ! ' ! 
 
 Then Owain 's tongue lost its fear, and the words 
 flowed smoothly as the brook which has reached the 
 valley. He spoke of love and the springtide, of his 
 father and mother at home, and the old grey farm 
 of Drws Coed ; and the maiden sat and listened with
 
 OWAIN OF DRWS COED. 43 
 
 her gentle hands folded in her lap, and her eyes, 
 tender and sweet, watching his lips as they formed 
 the words and disclosed his white teeth. Ever and 
 anon she smiled at his beauty, as he marvelled at 
 hers; and so the hours slipped swiftly away. 
 
 Not far away along the valley was the Llyn y LHn e gadair, 
 Gadair, a lake that lay all shut in by the protecting ^V* the 
 mountains. Here there was perfect peace, silence 
 like the silence of Heaven, and the beauty of nature 
 at her sweetest and best. Around the silvery margin 
 of the lake stood young groves of birch-trees, whose 
 white barks were flaky with the swelling wood, and 
 beyond these groves lay fields which were clothed 
 in the spring with the purity of the daisy and the 
 gleam of the golden buttercup. Hither Owain and 
 Bela would wander, hand in hand, speechless, yet by 
 their glances telling more than words could express, 
 and forgetful of the worlds above and below. 
 
 At last, Love so much overcame Owain that he 
 was restless day and night when Bela was absent 
 from him. Sometimes, ere yet it was dawn, he 
 would arise and sing : 
 
 " sweeter to me is the face of my Fair, 
 
 More beautiful far than the rose ; 
 More golden than sunshine the strands of her hair, 
 When day draweth near to a close.
 
 44 WONDER TALES. 
 
 Like fire in the heart is my Love, when 'tis day, 
 And Love filleth my soul in the night. 
 
 Then hearing these words, Love, do not delay, 
 But come with thy glances so bright." 
 
 And Owain's father and mother and his many 
 friends thought the black-haired boy was bewitched, 
 for thus he sang in the night, while by day he would 
 wander away for long spells, and no one could tell 
 whither he had gone, nor what had become of him. 
 
 But at length the secret lay open, and all knew 
 of Owain's love. Yet before Owain told his story 
 he and Bela had passed through a long and loving 
 courtship by the Llyn y Gadair. For thither would 
 Owain turn his steps, and there was Bela always 
 awaiting him. For this reason the place of their 
 tryst has been known as the Maiden's Bower, and in 
 this sacred haunt the young lovers spent the golden 
 hours of youth, and determined, as time went on, to 
 marry. 
 
 But if they were to marry it was necessary for 
 Bela to obtain her father's consent, and who could 
 tell how he would view her love for Owain ? Yet she 
 told him ; and the word came to Owain to await her 
 father in the woods. Accordingly, on the night 
 when the full moon floated in the sky, Owain went 
 out and waited to hear his fate, and stood long and
 
 OWAIN OF DRWS COED. 45 
 
 anxiously among the silver birches, while nature 
 slept, and the moonlight danced on the ripples of 
 Llyn y Gadair. 
 
 For a long time there was no sign of living person 
 other than himself ; but as the moon passed over and 
 beyond the mountain-side, there came towards him 
 two forms. By the soft misty hair Owain recognised 
 the beautiful Bela. Her head bent low as she drew 
 near to her lover. The other form was that of an 
 old man, with a kindly peaceful face and silver- 
 streaming hair. He came gently up to Owain, and 
 taking the lad's hand placed within it the white 
 hand of Bela. Then he said : 
 
 " Thou shalt have my daughter, Owain, but on 
 one condition only. Never shalt thou allow cold 
 iron to touch her flesh. If thou dost, then she shall 
 no longer be thine, but shall return at once to her 
 own people." 
 
 Then Owain was blithe at heart, and his voice 
 was as the flow of the nightingale's song when all 
 the woods are hushed to hear it sing its lay of love. 
 Gladly he consented to the condition. There was no 
 talk about any dowry, for love was the only 
 acceptable one. Then the silver-haired old father 
 led away the shy and lovely Bela. Yet before they
 
 46 WONDER TALES. 
 
 departed, Owain and she had fixed the day for their 
 marriage. 
 
 On the appointed day they were married, and 
 all those present at the ceremony declared that they 
 had never seen at the altar a more handsome or 
 fairer couple. People tell how a large sum of 
 money came with Bela as her dowry; for the people 
 of Tylwyth Teg are as wealthy as those who dwell 
 among the hills of gold, and on the wedding night 
 the charming virgin went to Drws Coed, rich in 
 the golden offerings of her kinsfolk. And very soon 
 after that the young master shepherd of Cwm 
 Marchnad was a rich and responsible man. 
 
 After the fashion of nature, in due time children 
 were born to Owain and Bela, and they and their 
 family lived happily together. Everything passed 
 in sweet contentment for many a year. Yes, indeed, 
 wealth poured in continually, for Fortune is a 
 wondrous dame. She is the eldest daughter of 
 Providence, and to her, as to her mother, are 
 entrusted marvellous treasures to impart them as she 
 is disposed. The old proverb says that water runs 
 down to the valley, and so it was with this couple. 
 They became wealthy beyond the average lot of man. 
 
 But the fair rose hath her sting; night will ever
 
 OWAIN OF DRWS COED. 47 
 
 follow day. One cannot have the sweet without the 
 bitter, and even so it came to pass for Owain and 
 Bela. 
 
 One day the husband and wife chanced to ride 
 out and visit the cherished margin of Llyn y Gadair. 
 As they rode, Bela went too near the water, and, its 
 foot slipping, her horse sank into the water up to 
 its girth. Owain hastened to save his dear wife, 
 and, when the horse was safely on shore again, he 
 helped Bela to get off her wet steed and mount his 
 own. Alack the day ! in his hurry to place her little 
 foot in the stirrup, the iron slipped and just touched 
 her knee. They looked at one another with faces 
 pale as the mistletoe-berry, and hastened to gallop 
 home. 
 
 Ere they had reached half-way, there stole down 
 the hill-side the strains of sweetest music. Rippling 
 and entrancingly it came, wreathing and folding in 
 its gentle murmurs and tender cadences everything 
 around the mountain foot. And, as the harmonies 
 sank into Owain's soul, he saw that they were 
 surrounded with a myriad of the " small people," 
 while others came rushing down the hill-side. They 
 looked at him, and the tears stole down from their 
 eyes. They took Bela gently in their arms and the
 
 48 WONDER TALES. 
 
 air was full of sad farewells to Owain. Then as 
 the mist comes suddenly and obscures the view, so 
 Owain stood looking at the empty saddle of his dear 
 wife's horse. Bela, his beautiful, loving Bela, had 
 passed away before his sight, and he knew not where 
 to seek her. 
 
 Some people in the district say that she was 
 taken to the Maiden's Bower, and thence to the land 
 of Hud, that she left her dear little ones to the care 
 of her beloved, and that she came no more to their 
 presence. But there are others who speak with more 
 confidence and narrate a happier story, for they tell 
 how every now and again Owain and his little ones 
 would catch a glimpse of the lovely Bela. And it 
 happened in this wise. Since the laws of her 
 country forbade her to tread the earth with any 
 human being, as she had been touched with iron, 
 she and her mother thought long and earnestly, and 
 at last they contrived a way in which she could see 
 and converse with her husband and children once 
 again. They obtained a large turf great enough 
 to float and at the same time support Bela. This 
 they were wont to place on the surface of the lake 
 not far from the silver strand, and here she would 
 sit almost within reach of her dear ones, and for
 
 OWAIN OF DRWS COED 
 
 "They took Bela gently in their arms, and the air was full 
 of sad farewells to Owain."
 
 OWAIN OF DBWS COED. 
 
 49 
 
 long, sweet hours hold loving talk with them. Thus 
 they all lived together till time loosened Owain's 
 soul, and it passed away on the breeze of the 
 morning.
 
 LLYN TEGID 
 
 or 
 
 THE STORY OF BALA LAKE. 
 
 HERE are many wonders in the depths 
 of the sea, wonders of coral, and sea- 
 weed, and sea-fish, great and small. 
 Much treasure is buried in those great 
 silent depths, and a world of which we know very 
 little is always lying there hidden from the eye of 
 man. For man requires the light of the pleasant 
 sun and deep draughts of glorious air to breathe, 
 and in those darksome depths sun and air are absent. 
 There is the throne of the realm of the waters, and 
 what mighty sovereign holds sway from that throne 
 no man can say or imagine. 
 
 Great lakes have also their mysterious, silent 
 depths. As they lie in the heart of the mountains, 
 these lakes flash and sparkle, where the sun shines
 
 LLYN TEGID. 51 
 
 on them, like great fields of precious stones, and, 
 when the sky is grey, they look as threatening as a 
 giant's frown. But that is only their surface. 
 What lies down there, in the depths below, where 
 all is silent and hidden ? Who would dare to plunge 
 into those depths, some moonlight night, when the 
 silvery light is running to and fro over the waves 
 like the foot-prints of fairies, and sink ever deeper 
 and deeper, right down to the lowest depths ? What 
 would such a bold diver see if he reached that vast 
 and sombre kingdom? Ah! what indeed. Yet 
 there are strange stories about those unknown 
 regions; stories which carry one back into the past 
 years of the rolling world, when life which we have 
 never known sported and gloomed with the rapid 
 beat of Time. Do you wish to hear the echo of its 
 vanished greatness? Then you must go and stand 
 near some wide surface when all nature is lying in 
 deep repose and listen for the music that has left the 
 world. 
 
 Sometimes, when one is listening intently, there 
 comes as from a fairy- world the silvery sound of the 
 pealing of distant bells. It rises and falls faintly 
 upon the peaceful air, then passes into silence. 
 Perhaps it is some chime from the mystic depths
 
 52 WONDER TALES. 
 
 calling low and sweet for the evensong. Now it will 
 come with mirth and joyance, as if wedding bells 
 were pealing for a hidden world to rejoice in the 
 plighting of two faithful hearts or is it the voice 
 of victory over some vanquished foe that steals over 
 the rippling waves ? Once again it comes, this time 
 soft and slow, mournfully, sadly, touching some 
 regretful memory in the heart, for it is the passing 
 bell tolling for a soul that has winged its flight ; and 
 the mourners pass in dark garb to the open grave in 
 the hill-side. 
 
 Some people say that when water and air are 
 both at perfect rest (a thing that happens on very 
 rare occasions) one can see, down in the stilly depths, 
 wonderful sights which reveal themselves. For 
 magnificent cities spring into being, lifting high in 
 their watery envelopment the glorious summits of 
 their trees and spires. Rare and costly buildings, 
 fashioned from marble of wondrous hues, stand there 
 in their majestic splendour. Through the heart of 
 those cities of the depths run broad roads, lined with 
 many a fair mansion; here and there squares and 
 gardens break the masses of architecture with green 
 spaces, and waving branch and frond. Factories 
 and workshops, wharves and market places tell of
 
 LLYN TEGID. 53 
 
 the former rush of life, while without the walls lie 
 broad tracts of pure white sand, marked with oases 
 of shells and weed a wilderness of peace around 
 strange abodes of silence. Then, with a shiver 
 and sudden shadowing, the waters cover up the 
 vision and the human eye can see no more. 
 
 Once upon a time there was a powerful prince 
 whose rule extended far and wide over mountains 
 and vales. He was the mighty owner of forest and 
 field, tilth and pasture. Rich mines poured their 
 wealth into his coffers ; the orchards and the harvests 
 shook their ruddy and golden wealth into his barns 
 and storehouses; the peasant paid to him his humble 
 tribute of human toil with the sweat of his brow. 
 If such a prince, with such possessions, had been 
 kind and wise the valleys might have shouted for 
 joy, and the mountains have lifted their summits to 
 repeat their song of praise to the blue heavens above. 
 But, far from being wise and kind, the heart of this 
 prince was bitter and wickedly cruel, so that 
 wherever he rode men shrank from meeting him. 
 He ruled his territory with a rod of iron and a hand 
 of cunning, fierce oppression. When he was a young 
 man, men dreaded him; in his age they trembled afar 
 off at the very thought of his malignant spirit. The
 
 54 WONDER TALES. 
 
 neighbourhood teemed with the tales of his evil, and 
 there was none to say him nay; no, not one. Men 
 hardly dared whisper, ' ' Beware of Tegid the Bald, ' ' 
 lest the breeze should carry the whisper to his ears, 
 so quick was he to know the spoken word. The 
 common people said that the very stones had ears, 
 and carried news to Tegid. 
 
 So he lived his life, and at first nothing disturbed 
 him in his wicked ways. He began to build a stately 
 palace, for his power was regal, and he forced men 
 to toil day and night at the labour of quarrying and 
 fashioning huge masses of marble to form the massive 
 walls. For years masons, carpenters, and joiners 
 gave constant and painful service to the decoration 
 of many a lofty hall, and, when the work was near 
 completion, forest and field were cleared to make way 
 for the most wondrous garden that the eye of man 
 had ever beheld. Yet this work was built with his 
 peasants' life blood, and Tegid laughed to see them 
 toiling, from dewy morn till the sinking of the sun. 
 
 ' * Fools and knaves ! ' ' he cried, ' ' cease your 
 work for but one moment, and the lash shall sting you 
 into energy, ' ' and they cowered at the violent looks 
 in the bloodshot eyes turned upon them. 
 
 Thus the work went on. Year by year Tegid 'a
 
 LLYN TEGID. 55 
 
 wealth increased, and year by year his peasants 
 moaned, toiled, died, and were forgotten. Even so 
 in life at this time we see men take the golden fruit 
 they have not earned. Yes, and they laugh in their 
 shallow ignorance, thinking that they have more 
 wealth than their fellow-men, and then, in their 
 foolish chatter to their friends, tell how poor 
 creatures toil that they may grow rich. Yet over all 
 their vain boasting there bends a listening ear. Not 
 one word of such wicked vaunting ever escapes that 
 ear, and, in due course, sooner or later, seen or 
 unseen, comes a curse which eats like a canker-worm. 
 This thing is true, let men doubt it if they will. 
 
 Tegid might have known this, if he had cared to 
 heed the warning that was sent to him ; but he turned 
 deaf ears, and laughed at the thought of changing 
 his evil ways, till his sides shook. Sometimes he 
 grew angry at the voice of warning, yet he could 
 not check it, or in any way prevent the notes falling 
 upon his ears, for they came from a little bird that 
 was so quick in its movements that it was gone before 
 the message had fallen from its little throat. 
 " Vengeance will come! Vengeance will come! " 
 was the burden of its tiny song. This was the only 
 hindrance in Tegid 's way. And what a poor
 
 56 WONDER TALES. 
 
 hindrance it was ! He felt no remorse, but moved in 
 vicious hatred because he could not quiet this feeble 
 fore- warning of the evil that shall befall all wrong- 
 doers. " Curse the bird ! "he exclaimed, and went 
 away to lash and ill-treat his hard-worked people. 
 
 In time the palace was finished, and the eldest 
 daughter of Tegid was of marriageable age. She 
 was a true daughter of her wicked father, and her 
 hand was given to a mighty lord who lived beyond 
 the mountains. Indeed, there was not one of the 
 family of Tegid the Bald who was lovely and of good 
 report. Evil they were born, and evilly they lived, 
 ever waxing more and more vile and base as the 
 days wore on and they grew like unto their sire. 
 But the day of the wedding drew nigh, and Tegid 
 the Bald resolved to celebrate the event by throwing 
 open his stately palace and the beautiful grounds 
 that seemed like fairy-land. 
 
 Thus he sent invitations far and wide to his 
 friends, and when the day dawned there were 
 gathered together all Tegid's kith and kin, all his 
 friends and companions, all those who had joined 
 in, or laughed at, the ways of this wicked man. 
 All were there; not one was missing. 
 
 In the early morning Tegid went abroad to cast a
 
 LLYN TEGID. 57 
 
 keen eye on the preparations for the events of the 
 noble day. With cutting word and heavy hand he 
 passed upon his way, and, as he walked along, a 
 tiny voice overhead piped " Vengeance will come! 
 Vengeance will come ! ' : With an evil curse Tegid 
 glanced upward and saw the tiny bird flutter from 
 twig to twig, and again came the warning sound. 
 Then the remembrance of the winged messenger 
 passed from Tegid's mind while he was in fierce heat 
 over a servant's neglect, and afterwards he plunged 
 headlong into mirth and merriment. The wine- 
 bowl passed from mouth to mouth; the strains of 
 lovely music passed richly through the palace rooms 
 and stole without, bathing flowers and fruit in their 
 melody ; while overhead the warm sun passed on its 
 daily journey, glancing with seeming indifference 
 upon the glittering display of man's magnificence. 
 Away on the hill-side the peasants gloried in at least 
 a few hours' respite from the sting and fury of 
 Tegid's evil nature. 
 
 Noontide came and passed away; afternoon, with 
 its soft languor, yielded to golden eventide ; and the 
 even with its brief, soft light bowed low and sank 
 into the silvery calm of the early night. 
 
 An old and toil-worn harper was threading his
 
 58 WONDER TALES. 
 
 way through the lonely world. As he passed along 
 the village street he asked a woman at a cottage 
 door if there were any mansions near by where he 
 might get some food and shelter for the night. She 
 looked at him gravely, and often casting her eyes 
 about to see that none was listening, she whispered, 
 " Go away, old harper, as soon as you may. This 
 place is evil and there is no reward here save that of 
 the whip and cruel word, or, perchance, even worse. 
 Go speedily away! " Then she turned and went 
 within. The poor old man knew that he must eat or 
 die, and failing to get sustenance at the village, 
 he came at length to the palace grounds, and heard 
 the sound of music and dancing. 
 
 Such a scene met his faded old eyes as he had 
 never beheld before. The moonlight poured down 
 upon the giant outlines of the palace and silvered it 
 with many a glimmering line of trembling light. 
 The windows glowed with the warm hue of lamp and 
 candle light; and shrub and tree, sparkling with 
 pendent decorations, seemed each a little star-set 
 firmament, so many were the lights that shone for 
 the guidance of the dancers. Brave lords and lovely 
 ladies, clothed in silks and satins of many a dazzling 
 tint, passed laughing on their way, or moved in
 
 LLYN TEGID. 59 
 
 stately measures to the strain of the music that 
 streamed from the banqueting hall. 
 
 The soul of the harper revived as he heard the lilt 
 of the music, and in response he took up his harp, 
 and played. A servant brought him food and wine. 
 Then he played again. As his fingers wandered 
 tenderly over the strings while he sat among the 
 trees, he heard a note sound overhead, and, looking 
 up, he saw a little bird, with ruffled plumage, 
 moving from twig to twig; and as he looked he 
 loved it. The little creature bent its head to one 
 side and sang its monotonous song, " Vengeance, 
 vengeance! " 
 
 It seemed to the old man that the tiny creature 
 was beckoning him to follow. So he arose, and 
 moved towards it; and again the bird uttered its 
 warning and travelled still further, while the aged 
 harper followed. If for a moment he stopped, the 
 note became more insistent, and seemed even 
 sorrowful and heart-breaking. So they went on, 
 and at last the harper stood at the top of a lofty hill 
 far away from the gay palace, far away from the 
 merry music, where he was alone with the bird. 
 And now he felt his fatigue come again, so, laying 
 his harp upon the ground, he kissed it, bidding it
 
 60 WONDER TALES. 
 
 good-night, according to his custom. He sank down 
 to welcome peaceful slumber, broken only by the 
 murmurs of a babbling brook. Yet before he could 
 sleep there shot into his remembrance the taste of the 
 food and wine, and the shimmer of the glories he 
 had so easily abandoned. Then he arose, and 
 eagerly sought the downward path. But he could 
 not find it again. In vain he wandered on the hill- 
 side in the endeavour to return, till at last, perforce, 
 he had to lie down and sleep. 
 
 When he awoke his eyes were turned towards the 
 valley of Tegid the Bald. He was amazed at what 
 he beheld, and rubbed his eyes to make sure that he 
 dwelt in the land of reality, and was not a traveller 
 in the realm of sleep. No, indeed, he was wide 
 awake, and what he saw was the accomplishment of 
 the foretelling of the tiny messenger. Below him 
 lay the wide, smooth surface of a lake. So calm it 
 looked as it reflected the morning light that one 
 might have supposed it had been there for ever. But 
 the harper knew that this was not so. In the short 
 hours of one calm, summer night the water had 
 swallowed up the evil years of the life of Tegid the 
 Bald, and all the wearisome labour that he had 
 enforced.
 
 LLYN TEGID. 61 
 
 So lies Bala Lake, over the scene of iniquity, and 
 the Palace of Tegid is fanned no more by the soft airs 
 of the day; yet, once upon a time, when a boatman 
 was plying his oars one moonlight night, he ceased 
 to row and let his craft drift on into stillness and 
 silence. Then as he gazed into the waters, he 
 plainly saw the massive towers and glint of the 
 marble walls, while a faint cadence reached his ears, 
 the sound, as it were, of the tiny bird piping its sad 
 message, " Vengeance will come! Vengeance will 
 come! "
 
 DAFYDD MEURIG OF BETWS BLEDRWS. 
 
 of Bettus 
 A LEGEND OF KING ARTHUR. Bledrus. 
 
 JAFYDD was not always a willing boy. 
 Indeed he must have been very trying 
 at times to his parents ; but they were 
 very patient and would never have 
 driven him away from the farmhouse at Betws 
 Bledrws. No, Dafydd left home of his own accord. 
 And it happened in this way. 
 
 Owen Meurig, his father, went out one morning 
 very early in order to lead the flock to fresh pastures. 
 Dafydd ought to have been up early enough to 
 accompany his father; but Owen said, " I cannot 
 wait for the lazy fellow, and I haven't time to go and 
 pull him out of bed. Send him after me directly he
 
 DAFYDD MEURIG. 63 
 
 comes down ! " Then he went off to lead the sheep. 
 
 Some time afterwards down came Dafydd 
 yawning like a dog. 
 
 " Where's my breakfast ? " he asked. 
 
 " No breakfast for you, my son, this morning," 
 said the mother. " If you cannot get down soon 
 enough to help your father with the sheep you must 
 march on an empty stomach. " 
 
 Then all Dafydd's sleepiness disappeared. 
 Anger took its place instantly. 
 
 " If you don't let me have breakfast," he 
 shouted, "I'll run away and never come home any 
 more! " 
 
 Now his mother thought he was speaking louder 
 than his intention, so she answered very quietly : 
 
 " Good-bye, Dafydd, I hope you'll be in a better 
 temper when you do come back." 
 
 Dafydd walked out of his home without another 
 word. 
 
 When his father returned at night there was no 
 Dafydd to be seen ; although the neighbourhood was 
 searched high and low, yet the lad was not discovered 
 anywhere. He had completely disappeared, and 
 we must follow him on his travels to see what strange 
 adventures fell to his share.
 
 64 WONDER TALES. 
 
 Dafydd, in spite of all his laziness and wilful 
 ways, was not a bad boy at heart. He had some 
 very good points, and one of these was a desire to 
 find out a reason for everything. He also wanted 
 to know more of the world, and for some time it had 
 been his intention to ask his parents to let him go 
 out and earn his living elsewhere. But very 
 foolishly he kept his longing silent in his heart, and 
 never said a word to his father and mother, who were 
 very kind people and would have done all they could 
 to humour the wayward lad. So Dafydd had gone 
 on day by day with his desire swelling in his heart 
 like a kernel in a husk, and now in this cruel manner 
 he ran away from home. 
 
 As he tramped on he felt more and more sorry, 
 yet more resolved not to go home and eat humble 
 pie . " I '11 go to London, ' * said he to himself, ' ' and 
 see that wonderful bridge that people talk about so 
 much." So he cut himself a staff from a hazel-tree 
 on a hill-side, and on he went. Yet before Dafydd 
 got to London he had found the world a very 
 different place from what he had imagined it to be 
 in his home in Wales. He soon saw how good his 
 parents had been to him. He had to work hard to 
 earn a crust ; and there was no more late sleep in the
 
 DAFYDD MEURIG. 65 
 
 morning. If he had not had a brave heart, Dafydd 
 would have turned home again. But no; he had 
 resolved to go to London, and there he at last 
 arrived. 
 
 Dafydd lived in London for several years, but his 
 heart ever turned towards home. This was especially 
 so on Sunday, when he was free from hard work, 
 and had leisure to walk about and think. He often 
 remembered the old folk, the pleasant farm on the 
 green hill-side, and the wide backs of the grim, old 
 mountains standing in silence here and there. When 
 he was very lonely he went to that wonderful bridge, 
 not nearly so wonderful as people had made out, 
 yet quite wonderful enough to interest Dafydd ; for 
 he loved to watch the water rushing by the pillars, 
 and to see the boats and ships coming and going on 
 the broad breast of the river. 
 
 One day, as he leaned over the parapet watching 
 the busy scenes, a voice said in his ear : 
 
 " Whence do you come, young friend? " 
 
 Dafydd turned and saw an Englishman looking 
 at him with quizzical eyes, and so he replied some- 
 what sullenly : 
 
 " I come from my own country." 
 
 " Quite so," replied the other; " but do not be
 
 66 WONDER TALES. 
 
 vexed with me, and answer my questions frankly, 
 for if you do, you will not be sorry." 
 
 " Well," said Dafydd, " what do you want to 
 know? " 
 
 " Where did you get that hazel stick? " asked 
 the stranger. 
 
 Dafydd told him he had cut it from a tree by the 
 road-side not far from his home at Betws. 
 
 " Can you remember the exact spot ? " asked the 
 Englishman. 
 
 " Yes," said Dafydd, " I can." 
 
 " Then, my friend, your fortune is made; for 
 that stick in your hand grew on a spot under which 
 are hidden treasures of gold and silver. If you do 
 indeed remember the place, and can conduct me to it, 
 I will put you in the way of being the richest man in 
 Wales." 
 
 Dafydd looked his man straight in the face. He 
 had lived long enough in London to know that he 
 could not trust everybody, and he wondered whether 
 this stranger was trying to deceive him ; but no, his 
 eyes were frank and open, and Dafydd guessed that 
 he was one of those who know many hidden secrets, 
 who can read the stars, and who know where the 
 water flows in the depths of the earth. So he said,
 
 DAFYDD MEURIG. 67 
 
 " Let us go now, then, at once, and I will show 
 you where I cut this stick." 
 
 Therefore Dafydd and the stranger journeyed 
 together down to Wales, to the old hazel-tree 
 growing by the road-side. 
 
 It was night time when they came along the road 
 leading to Betws, and the twinkling stars dotted the 
 deep blue sky as white anemones tremble in the 
 midst of blue-bells in the woods when spring sings 
 over the hill-side. The old hazel-tree grew at the 
 foot of a rocky mass called Craig-y-Ddinas, and in 
 the darkness it looked like some gaunt, old creature 
 of the hills leaning in anger across the road, with 
 its arms above its head ready to strike. 
 
 " This is the tree," said Dafydd. 
 
 " Well, then, here we must dig," replied his 
 companion; and they set to work with a will, 
 digging under the spreading roots of the gnarled 
 hazel-tree. 
 
 Soon they struck upon something hard under the 
 soil. It was a broad, flat stone, and when they 
 raised it they saw that it had covered a passage 
 which led deep down into the hill-side. Dafydd now 
 thrilled with excitement, and his comrade also was 
 nearly as excited as he.
 
 68 WONDER TALES. 
 
 "Are you afraid to come down with me? " he 
 asked. 
 
 " Not I," answered Dafydd, and down they went 
 in the gloomy depths. 
 
 Then, as they proceeded in dread, they became 
 aware that their feet were treading on well-carved, 
 stone steps, and gradually light appeared from great 
 lamps hung in the rocky roof overhead. They went 
 on and on, along the well-lit stone passage, green 
 with age, and lo ! to Dafydd's surprise they came to 
 a huge silver bell that hung low on a silver chain 
 from the rocks above. The Englishman paused and 
 touched Dafydd's arm. 
 
 " Tread carefully to one side," said he, " and 
 on no account touch that bell, or you will have reason 
 to be sorry." 
 
 So they passed very carefully, and soon the 
 passage led them to an enormous cave, which opened 
 out like a well-built hall in the very heart of Craig-y- 
 Ddinas. Overhead, and around the walls, flashed 
 hundreds of lamps of massy silver, and their rays 
 fell on a sight such as man had surely never seen 
 before. 
 
 All about the floor of this spacious hall lay the 
 figures of mighty warriors fully clothed in perfect
 
 DAFYDD MEURIG. 69 
 
 armour, and each warrior was in deep repose. That 
 they were not dead but merely sleeping Daf ydd could 
 easily see by the rising and falling of their broad 
 chests, and by the movement of their beards as the 
 breath of their nostrils passed over them. 
 
 Each man was of giant build, and their arms, 
 bare to the elbow, looked hard and tough as steel. 
 The light fell on breastplate and hauberk, lance and 
 buckler, helm and corselet, so that armour and 
 weapons glinted in the rays. Away in the far 
 distance stood a table, round and fashioned from 
 marble of rich and varied vein. Seated about this 
 table were thirty-and-one mighty forms of men. 
 Yet of their number there was one of far mightier 
 mould than the others. He sat in an old-fashioned 
 chair, with his head resting on his left hand. On 
 the table just before him lay a sword that looked like 
 a gleam of lightning, so brilliantly it flashed, and 
 at his side stood a shield as massive as an oaken door. 
 Near him lay a huge hound. The warrior sat thus 
 in majesty, with his long, silvery beard sweeping 
 the table, while his large right hand lay like a 
 thunderbolt before him. Near it rested a crown of 
 gold set with many a gleaming gem. His eyes were 
 closed. Daf ydd was fain to look away lest those
 
 70 WONDER TALES. 
 
 lids should open and the awful eyes flash their stern 
 light upon him. But silence, as of death itself, 
 lay upon everything. 
 
 In the midst of this hall stood two large heaps, 
 one of gold and the other of silver, and the stranger 
 whispered cunningly to Dafydd that he might take 
 what he would from the one or the other, but not 
 from both the heaps. In trembling haste the youth 
 obeyed. Yet his companion did not so much as 
 touch a coin, for he murmured something about 
 knowledge being better than riches, and stood and 
 looked with a curious eye upon the scene. When 
 Dafydd had laden himself so that he could not carry 
 another piece of gold, they stepped noiselessly from 
 that hall of sleep, and reached the passage. Again 
 the stranger warned Dafydd not to touch the bell; 
 and so they passed into the open air, and stood 
 beneath the clear sky. 
 
 The grey dawn was just showing the dim outlines 
 of the mountains as the two parted, Dafydd to go to 
 his home, and the stranger no one can tell whither. 
 Yet, before they separated, they replaced the stone 
 and the earth beneath the roots of the hazel-tree. 
 
 Then the man said : 
 
 " You may perchance use your gold with lack
 
 DAFYDD MEURIG. 71 
 
 of wisdom, although with prudence you have 
 abundance, nay more than enough for a lifetime. 
 Be wise and go not again to the cavern. Yet, should 
 you go, remember this : That bell stands waiting, 
 waiting ever to call the mighty King Arthur and his 
 knights and warriors to drive the Saxons from the 
 land, what time the Cymry are in need of their 
 services. If you should chance to rouse the awful 
 clamour of the bell, the whole host would rise, and 
 with a shout fit to shake Craig-y-Ddinas, would cry, 
 ' is IT DAY ? ' Then you must reply at once, ' No ! 
 it is not day, sleep on.' Thus only will you escape 
 unscathed. For they sleep till the hour when the 
 Black Eagle and the Golden Eagle shall go to war, 
 and the loud tones of the silver bell shall cause the 
 earth to tremble and their hosts to pour forth to 
 re-possess the Isle of Britain." 
 
 Great was the joy at Betws Bledrws when 
 Dafydd returned to the old people. He told them 
 of his life and fortune, and, as he was now wise and 
 old enough to settle down to his occupation, he lived 
 quite happily in the old farmhouse. As time went 
 on he married, and his children gladdened the fields 
 with their merry shouts. Yet Dafydd would often 
 stand and look far away to where Craig-y-Ddinas
 
 72 WONDER TALES. 
 
 rose gaunt and craggy against the sky. He thought 
 of what lay beneath that rocky mass, and of the sleep 
 of silence in the spacious hall. Then, at times, a 
 voice would say, " Go and fetch more gold ! " Yet 
 he did not dare, so awesome was the remembrance of 
 those slumbering warriors, and of that mighty 
 majesty seated in the carven chair. 
 
 The years passed on, and ever and again the 
 voice spoke in Dafydd's ear, till at last, one evening, 
 taking mattock and a sack, he stole away, saying 
 nothing of his intention to anyone. As soon as 
 night fell he set to work. There sure enough was 
 the broad, flat stone, and beneath it the open 
 passage-way to the mighty hall. His heart failed 
 him, yet he looked at the sack and pressed forward. 
 Light again stole mysteriously on his sight, lighting 
 a pathway to the silver bell. There it hung ! He 
 crept by with nervous care so that he should not so 
 much as let his breath fall upon it. Once again he 
 stood in the midst of those mighty warrior forms, 
 this time the only wakeful person there, and he 
 trembled violently as he drew near to the golden pile. 
 Yet, as his fingers touched the gold his heart revived 
 and full soon he had filled the sack, yes, filled it to 
 the utmost, so that he could not close it, but had to
 
 DAFYDD MEURIG 
 
 "Yet, as his fingers touched the gold his heart revived, and full 
 soon he had filled the sack."
 
 DAFYDD MEURIG. 73 
 
 grip one side of the mouth with both hands as he 
 carried it over his shoulder. 
 
 Thus he staggered out with haste, never glancing 
 backwards till he reached the passage. Then, 
 indeed, his breath came again, and he went on with 
 less fear. Alas for Dafydd! As he reached the 
 bell, he stepped needfully aside lest he should touch 
 its silver walls. He himself did not touch it, nor did 
 his sack, but one heavy golden piece tumbled side- 
 ways from the sack, and fell upon the awful bell ! 
 
 One long, silvery note swept up and down the 
 passage as though an archangel had touched a string 
 of his harp with warning hand. 
 
 Forthwith there was a stir and a bustle, and a 
 murmur as of a rising tempest. From iron throats 
 came the mighty cry : 
 
 " Is IT DAY ? IS IT DAY ? ' ' 
 
 Iron-shod feet came thundering upon the stone 
 floor of the passage. So they rushed, thronging in 
 haste and eager, to where the miserable Dafydd stood 
 tongue-tied and forgetful of all, save his horror, as 
 the sweat dropped from his white face. They came 
 and stood towering around him, mighty warriors, 
 angry, and roused from sleep. Their flashing eyes lit 
 upon the sack as it lay mouthing out its contents
 
 74 WONDER TALES. 
 
 beneath the silver bell; and then they knew. 
 
 ' ' Slay the caitiff ! ' ' quoth one. 
 
 But a voice, as it were of the silver bell itself, 
 came through the pent air of the passage : 
 
 " Slay him not ! " and Dafydd's eyes turned to 
 where that awful form stood like some peerless 
 headland above a raging storm. " Slay him not, 
 but cast him out. For it is not yet day, and we must 
 sleep long in our slumbers. Nevertheless, close the 
 entrance that we be not again awakened till that 
 dawn appears." 
 
 Then King Arthur turned and passed again into 
 the hall, and the sword Excalibur gleamed in the 
 darkness as the lightning flashes across a stormy 
 sky. 
 
 So they led Dafydd to the entrance. Yet, ere 
 they cast him out, one giant warrior struck him a 
 blow that crushed him like the fall of a huge oak- 
 tree. Dazed and bruised he lay without, while the 
 stone was drawn back to its resting place. 
 
 As long as Dafydd lived he was a cripple. It is 
 said that when the news of his disaster spread 
 abroad, people went to discover the Hall of Slumber 
 in the Craig-y-Ddinas, but though their search was 
 thorough they could not discover the entrance to
 
 DAFYDD MEUBIG. 
 
 75 
 
 that resting place. And so King Arthur sleeps 
 undisturbed till the Cymry are in straits, and the 
 great bell once more rings its silvery warning in the 
 silence of the passage. 
 
 the Welsh.
 
 ELFOD THE PRIEST. 
 
 VERYBODY knew Elfod the Priest 
 and everybody loved him very much. 
 He was such a fine-looking old man. 
 His hair was so silvery and long, his 
 eyes so dark and tender, and his smile so winsome. 
 No one could ever remember Elfod saying an angry 
 word, except when Idris Vychan threw a sharp stone 
 and cut an old woman's head. Then Elfod's eyes 
 looked like live coals, instead of deep lakes undei 
 the clear open sky. If a child had some tiny trouble 
 it would run straight to Elfod and tell him all about 
 it, and, before long, one might see Elfod and the
 
 ELFOD THE PRIEST. 77 
 
 little one walking hand in hand quite happily, and 
 all the trouble was forgotten. 
 
 The priest lived in an old stone house at the very 
 end of the village, just where the mountain came 
 down to meet the valley. In front of his house a 
 noisy streamlet played all day long among the round 
 stones that tried to prevent it from passing Elfod's 
 door. They could never keep the stream quiet, and 
 no one could ever make Elfod rest. He was always 
 going about seeking to make other people happy. 
 
 No one else dwelt in the old, grey house. Elfod 
 lived very simply on fruit and berries, and drank 
 water from the laughing stream. Sometimes people 
 would put on Elfod's doorstep something nice to eat, 
 and then run out of sight before he could see who it 
 was. Usually, about ten minutes later, some poor 
 man or woman in the village would receive a visit 
 from Elfod and a present of whatever had been left 
 on the priest's doorstep. 
 
 Now the time drew near when Elfod felt that he 
 was growing old, so old that he soon must go away 
 to the angels, and he bethought him that no one 
 knew anything at all about his early life. People 
 had often said to him " Where did you live when you 
 were a boy? "or, " Who were your father and
 
 78 WONDER TALES. 
 
 mother ? "or, perhaps, some wee child asked, " Who 
 made you so kind and good? " When such 
 questions were asked the dark eyes seemed clouded 
 with tender memory, the gentle mouth had a sad line 
 on each side of it, and once a little girl had seen two 
 big tears run down the wrinkles on Elfod's face. 
 So generally people did not like to ask such questions, 
 for they loved above all to see him smile. And now 
 Elfod felt that he ought to tell some one about his 
 early days before he left the village, the old grey 
 house, the chatter of the stream, and went away to 
 live elsewhere. So he called together several of his 
 dearest friends, and they sat down under some oak- 
 trees which grew in the valley, and Elfod spoke to 
 them as follows : 
 
 " My mother's name was Gwenllian, and I was 
 born long long ago I do not know how long in the 
 village past the monastery, on the other side of the 
 mountain. My parents were very good to me, and 
 somewhat spoiled their little boy, for I was the only 
 child in the family. With great sorrow I confess 
 that I did not return their love as I should have done ; 
 but thought simply of my own feelings and did what 
 pleased myself. My father owned some sheep, and 
 each day he would lead them forth to pasture on a
 
 ELFOD THE PRIEST. 79 
 
 mountain slope, or in the valley, according to the 
 time of year. Very often as I grew older he would 
 take me with him; and, at first, great was my 
 pleasure to lie and see the tiny white clouds run like 
 sheep across the great blue field of the sky, or watch 
 the sunlight chase the shadows over the slopes and 
 along the rounded backs of the old grey mountains. 
 Best of all I loved the early summer, when the broom 
 blossomed yellow-gold over the earth, and the grass 
 grew rich and green, luscious for the sheep to browse, 
 and restful for the eye to behold. I loved the swift 
 flight of the eagle, yet I feared his swoop upon the 
 valley. From one spot I could see the misty blue of 
 the distant sea lying between two rugged old 
 mountains. I rejoiced to see the seasons' colours 
 spread over the world, and hear the wind whisper as 
 it passed by on some busy message. 
 
 " As I grew older I became restless, and then 
 I lay no longer by my father's side, but wandered off 
 alone to find things strange and new. ' Who can 
 tell, ' thought I, ' but that some day I may chance 
 to discover the land of Hud-a-Lledrith ? ' And so Hid-a-iiedrith, 
 
 charm. 
 
 it befell, although, to be sure, I never really thought 
 that such would be my fortune. 
 
 " One day, when I was about twelve or thirteen
 
 80 WONDER TALES. 
 
 years old, and had grown thoroughly tired of looking 
 after my father's flock in the valley, I left the sheep 
 and entered into a wood of oak, and ash, and thorn 
 trees, and so wilful was I, so heedless of my parents' 
 love, that I strayed alone in that wood for two days 
 and two nights without taking even a morsel of food. 
 As I roamed about the wood there came to me two 
 mannikins, each about three feet high, and one said 
 to me, very courteously and gently, ' Come with us, 
 Elfod, and thou shalt obtain all that thy heart 
 desires.' My heart beat fast, and even seemed to 
 dance, as I answered that I would indeed go with 
 them and that I rejoiced to do so. Then I followed 
 after them, and we went towards the mountain-side 
 till we reached a fair, broad field. I cannot tell you 
 how it was, but, at a certain spot, my mannikins 
 sank down through the sward, and with their merry 
 eyes fixed on mine I was able to follow mirthfully. 
 Nor was it long before we came to rest in a land 
 glorious beyond compare, and as strange as it was 
 beautiful. 
 
 " We stood in a realm, calm and gracious, where 
 there were winding rivers running clear and 
 sparkling through fields full of cowslips. These 
 stood tall and with drooping heads, each one
 
 ELFOD THE PRIEST. 81 
 
 fragrant as the very breath of spring when it steals 
 among the fresh green woods. They seemed to smile 
 at me and fall asleep in happiness. ' Dear flowers, ' 
 I said, ' I love you one and all ! ' Then my eyes 
 fell upon fruitful meadows and flowery woods. 
 Elsewhere I beheld all manner of luscious fruits of 
 various colours, shapes, and sizes fairer than any 
 fruits which grow in this cold world. Yet though 
 all was so beautiful to see, believe me when I tell you 
 that the realm was not lit by the light of any sun. 
 Bather was the atmosphere dark, if one may call 
 that sky and air by such a name. 
 
 " Around me came people like, yet unlike, those I 
 saw on earth. They were dwarfish in size, but so 
 exquisitely beautiful to behold that I know no words 
 to tell you how lovely they were. Each one had 
 golden hair, and eyes of a merry limpid blue, while 
 their lips were like the rowan-berries when the sun 
 of September lingers in love upon the mountain- 
 side. Their skin was soft and fresh as that of the 
 red trout which lies in the swift stream. But, for 
 all their smallness of stature, never have I seen such 
 beings for courage. Fleetfcoted were they as 
 the lightning which leaps from mountain-top to 
 mountain-top. They rode fiery steeds which were 
 
 G
 
 82 WONDER TALES. 
 
 not much larger than hares. I found that their 
 food was very simple, and consisted mostly of apples 
 of all kinds, with milk and roots, soft and sweet to 
 the taste. 
 
 " Then there was another thing I am fain to 
 remember. From one end of their land to the other 
 no noise of any kind was heard. Sweet silence lay 
 sleeping everywhere, and none sought to disturb her 
 gentle slumber; speech itself was silent, nor did 
 there ever fall, even perchance, a curse or oath. 
 Within their territory they would not suffer 
 untruthfulness, or treachery. So I dwelt among 
 them with great respect and admiration. Tender 
 friends were they to me, and I grew to love them. 
 Yes, indeed, and one fair maiden I loved as a man 
 loves the first blush of the morning sky when summer 
 is at its height. Ceinwen was her name; and she 
 dwelt with her people beside a lonely lake, silvery 
 and broad. 
 
 " None was so gentle as Ceinwen, and of all 
 those fair people none so goodly to behold. Her hair 
 was golden like that of her companions, but so long 
 and silken that it fell about her in a golden mist. 
 Her touch was as gentle as the fall of a snowflake on 
 the young grass, and her teeth were white as pearls,
 
 ELFOD THE PRIEST. 83 
 
 and as lustrous. She wore a loose, green tunic which 
 fell almost to her slender ankles, leaving uncovered 
 her snowy neck and shoulders. 
 
 ' When hiraeth first snatched at my heart, I 
 told Ceinwen and she put her soft, white arms 
 around my neck, and then, laying her tender cheek 
 by mine, whispered that love was sacred and that 
 the love of parents was a gift like the sun in winter. 
 ' Go, Elf od, ' quoth she, ' but come again soon to the 
 land of Hud-a-Lledrith ! ' For the inhabitants of 
 that land come and go as they list, yet in my mind 
 there arose the thought of the evil of my native land 
 and it troubled me greatly. I longed to tell my kith 
 and kin of the beauty and holiness that dwelt in 
 silence, in a silent and sinless world. Oh! the 
 richness of that world ! Gold and silver are there in 
 such abundance that the children's toys are made 
 of those precious metals, and the land flashes forth 
 their gladsome light from among its fair flowers, 
 while rivers run glittering over gold and silver beds. 
 
 " So I came away, yea, friends, I came away. 
 When the time of my departure arrived, they 
 showered precious gifts upon me, and begged me to 
 come again. With my hand on my heart and with 
 tears in my eyes I gave the promise. Promise!
 
 84 WONDEK TALES. 
 
 What need was there for that, when among these 
 loving folk dwelt my Ceinwen? And was I not, 
 after my long sojourn, one of them already ? It was 
 but the desire to look again upon my parents' faces, 
 to touch their dear hands once more, which lured 
 me away. I said that I should long every hour to 
 come again to my beloved land of Hud-a-Lledrith. 
 
 " I gathered together the presents which they 
 showered upon me, and for the last time Ceinwen 
 and I wandered hand in hand along the shore of the 
 peaceful lake. How well I remember the light that 
 streamed from her faithful eyes, and the smile that 
 parted her tender lips, as we spake of our joyful 
 reunion and the marriage that was yet to be I We 
 kissed, and, with her hand in mine, she murmured 
 once again, ' Come again soon, Elfod; for Ceinwen 
 will await thee, if need be for ever ! ' Then she 
 turned from me. and I saw tear drops fall like April 
 showers lit by sunbeams. 
 
 '* They gave me a silver wand and bade me keep 
 it pure and fair; after which they sped me on my 
 way. So I came again to the land of my birth, while 
 everybody spoke of Elfod, seeking to learn where I 
 had sojourned. Yet, although I spoke much of the 
 goodness and glory of the fair land, I breathed not
 
 ELFOD THE PRIEST. 85 
 
 one word which would let people know its entrance, 
 or its whereabouts. But I told my mother of the 
 riches, the masses of silver and gold, the rocks of 
 that sweet and silent land, and she pressed me sore 
 till I promised to come again, bringing her treasure 
 that would be beyond the dream of avarice. 
 
 " I set out with that foolish promise on my lips, 
 and passed through the wood of oak, and ash, and 
 thorn to find the portal of my paradise. Ha ! the 
 woe of it the smart of it! With the vision of 
 Ceinwen before me beckoning me sweetly, yet could 
 I not find the path that should lead me to her. 
 Seek as I might, the land of Hud-a-Lledrith lay I 
 knew not where, and with a heart cold, and heavy as 
 a stone, I came back to my native village. 
 
 " My mother met me, and tears fell from her 
 sad eyes. ' Elfod,' she said, ' scarcely had you 
 gone, after you had promised to bring me wealth, 
 when two little men leading white mules came to 
 our abode, and asked for you. They said that you 
 had lost your white wand, and that without it you 
 could NEVER hope to enter the secret place ! * 
 
 " Then, friends, I knew that for me there 
 remained upon earth only a life devoted to holy 
 things; so I entered the monastery, and was
 
 86 WONDER TALES. 
 
 anointed with the sacred oil. Yet, in the midst of 
 this life never have I ceased to dwell upon the 
 goodness of that other life, the wealth of love which 
 I once vainly cast away, thus rejecting the perfection 
 of the Tylwyth Teg. O my Ceinwen, my dear ones, 
 when shall I see your fair smiles in the silent land ? " 
 
 So he finished speaking. And they left him as he 
 sat, with his head bowed low upon his hands, and 
 the story passed in loving words from lip to lip. 
 
 One night, very soon after, when the white moon 
 rode full and clear over the mountain-top, people 
 heard the sound of silver bells wafted up the valley. 
 Some went to their doors, and they told, thereafter, 
 how they saw faintly, and in a mist, a vision of 
 Elfod, radiant and youthful, hand in hand with an 
 angel, whose golden hair lay like the dusky light of 
 sunset around her lovely form. She was pointing 
 upwards to the sky, and, as they passed along amid 
 the sound of the silvery tones, it seemed as though 
 the wind sighed out : 
 
 ' ' Yea, Elfod, it has been long, but now you have 
 once more regained the silver wand, Beloved, and 
 there shall be no more night in the land of 
 Hud-a-Lledrith." 
 
 Here endeth the story of Elfod the Priest.
 
 THE WYVERN. 
 
 HE people of Coed-y-Moch were always Koid m5ch> 
 
 wood of the 
 
 in fear. Never for a single moment, p i gs . 
 night or day, could they shake off the 
 alarm which hung about them like a 
 cloud. And the cause of this will be clear as our 
 story proceeds. At night they cowered in their 
 houses with their hands pressed to their ears to shut 
 out the heartrending screams which seemed to cut 
 the darkness like a jagged knife, or as though horned 
 devils raged at will about the rugged mountains 
 towering up on all sides of the valley. When day 
 poured its cheering light upon the world there was 
 no respite from this terrible panic. For, even in 
 broad daylight, the loathsome winged snake came
 
 88 WONDER TALES. 
 
 and went at its will ; yea, and worse than all besides, 
 lay in evil ambush for any who might, perchance, 
 approach its gruesome haunt. Then with a sudden, 
 cruel movement, it would seize in silence upon its 
 victim, crush life from the writhing limbs, and 
 bear away the inanimate form for food. The whole 
 neighbourhood lay under this baleful influence, and 
 like weary captives looked longingly for a daybreak 
 which should bring deliverance. 
 
 Sometimes the monster lay and sunned itself 
 upon the pebbly shores of Cynwch Lake, and there, 
 with its slimy folds all uncoiled, would lie and gaze 
 with lacklustre look across the dancing waves. At 
 times one could see it creeping, with hateful, stealthy 
 movements, here and there upon the fertile slopes of 
 Moel Othrum, jerking its cumbersome form into 
 
 the bare hill 
 
 uncanny humps as it made its way in quest of food, of othrum. 
 and leaving a slimy track behind it. To this day 
 such venom remains as visible poison on the 
 mountain-slopes, and whoever comes thither avoids 
 placing his feet upon such an evil spot. 
 
 The hunger of the loathly creature passed the 
 comprehension of man : with a huge, gaping mouth, 
 and cavernous belly, the Wyvern seemed to have no 
 limit to its powers of digestion, and its wings would
 
 THE WYVERN. 89 
 
 beat with lazy enjoyment as it lay and chewed the 
 red food of its choice. Sometimes in its greed it 
 would swallow a lamb at a gulp. When it killed a 
 beast it bore the carcase to a tree, fastened itself by 
 winding its tail about the branches, then, placing the 
 victim between its body and the trunk of the tree, 
 twined its eager length, round and round, closer and 
 closer, till the animal was a pulp and its bones 
 crushed to pieces. Then, with slow motion of its 
 slavering jaws, the Wyvern, spreading its warm, 
 slimy body over the soil, sucked the goodness from its 
 raw food. Yet it did not always choose flesh, but 
 stole the fruit of the trees, and with its long and 
 whitish tongue stripped the orchards almost bare. 
 It flew at night, and, as it flew, screamed with 
 soul-stirring anguish so that men shuddered to hear 
 the sound. Its wings, which were not large for its 
 bulk of body, beat the air with a dull flap, softly 
 and somewhat noiselessly, like the flight of an owl. 
 Its glowing, greenish eyes had keen and penetrating 
 sight, for often, when flying high in mid-air, 
 the Wyvern would swoop suddenly upon some 
 unprotected fold, or traveller wandering in the 
 darkness, and a startled scream, only too quickly 
 smothered, would tell of another victim.
 
 90 WONDER TALES. 
 
 In vain men offered great rewards for its 
 destruction. One cunning old fellow, the wizard 
 who lived in Ganllwyd, strove earnestly to put an Ganii5id. 
 end to these terrible sufferings. For many nights 
 and days he pondered, and tried to devise means to 
 slay the Wyvern, and he was thought by the people of 
 those parts to be a man of great cleverness. When 
 the Lord of Nannau cried that he would give three- 
 score head of cattle to him who slew the evil creature, 
 and others came forward and named valuable gifts 
 which they would add as a reward for the terrible 
 feat, this clever old man strove more eagerly to win 
 the wealth. But all his efforts were unavailing. 
 The woeful wailing still pierced the night, and by 
 day the distant yet visible form of the Wyvern spread 
 menace from the mountainside. Then, also, to make 
 matters worse, the Wyvern was growing older 
 and more wary, and to entrap it, or slay it, became 
 daily a task of greater difficulty. To hear its great 
 body hurtle through the darkness, dealing woe and 
 evil as it sped, was awful, and frequently at the 
 sound men fell swooning to the earth. Yet what 
 could be done? 
 
 The Wyvern could attract animals by a kind of 
 spell. If it looked into the eyes of a beast, that
 
 THE WYVERN. 91 
 
 creature was doomed. Like the moth which circles 
 around a candle till in the end its charred body falls 
 a voluntary offering into the flame, so every creature 
 that gazed upon the livid green eyes of this winged 
 snake was seized, and held by an awful fascination. 
 With an indescribable meekness such a victim went, 
 step by step, nearer to the watching, luminous eyes, 
 till at last, intoxicated by some unknown power, it 
 passed insensibly, one may suppose, into the soft, 
 slimy folds of the expectant Wyvern. 
 
 Yet the cunning Llwyd of Ganllwyd prepared a usid, grey, 
 plan whereby he might slay it, or, if the powers so 
 ordered, catch the vicious monster. He made a bold 
 bid for its blood, and in this wise. Wales had long 
 been famous for its archers. Other nations copied 
 the skill of the bowman's craft from the swift 
 Welsh, and carried the knowledge to other lands to 
 win great battles against their foes. So old Llwyd 
 hired a dozen of the keenest archers, men whose 
 arrows sped from the bow as a lightning flash speeds 
 from the dark clouds upon the trembling earth, and 
 he placed them on many a crafty coign of vantage. 
 Yet it was never possible to catch even a glimpse of 
 the Wyvern on the days when the bowmen were 
 waiting. It was as though some subtle knowledge
 
 92 WONDER TALES. 
 
 came to its brain, and bade it beware. So the plan 
 of Llwyd came to naught, and the Wyvern still 
 screamed through the darkness of the night. But 
 Llwyd continued to frame cunning schemes, and the 
 threescore cows were so rich an offer that every man 
 of enterprise in that district desired to slay or 
 capture the winged snake. 
 
 Now there lived among the shepherds of Cwm Ku 
 Blaen y Glyn a youth whose mind leaped towards i ey <i a^ 2 
 the prize as a little child springs joyfully to meet its of the glen - 
 father. He was not yet twenty-one years old, and 
 was strong and sturdy beyond the average of the race 
 of man. From childhood his strength had risen and 
 swelled with him as the life-giving sap toughens 
 the limbs of the oak-tree, and Meredydd was known 
 far and wide for his prowess. By the strength of 
 his hands alone he tore open the gaping mouths of 
 wolves, or wrenched the deep-seated bough from the 
 parent tree. At wrestling none was his equal, for, 
 when the spirit was strong in his heart, he had the 
 strength of many men, and held his adversary like a 
 little child in his grasp. 
 
 Yet Meredydd was gentle withal, and used his 
 strength only for righteous purposes; and the 
 thought of the Wyvern, and the evil which it
 
 THE WYVERN. 93 
 
 wrought, burned in his brain red-hot, giving him no 
 rest by day or night. When he heard the thrilling 
 screams pass overhead Meredydd ground his white 
 teeth with anger, and tossed his black hair with the 
 defiance of the royal beast brought to bay. 
 
 So at this time he came down from the mountain, 
 nor said one word to man of his intention, for he 
 desired that the purpose of his heart should not be 
 known till the deed was accomplished, and his race 
 rejoiced in deliverance. For Meredydd feared 
 failure. Yes, truly, he feared it as some craven 
 returned home early from the wars might fear the 
 mocking laugh of man, or, still worse, the shrill 
 reproach of woman, as he passed to and fro along 
 the streets of his village home. Yet he told the 
 secret to one fair being, although he spoke not a word 
 to man, and, when he spoke of his intention, so 
 modest was he that the blush came to his swarthy 
 cheek as the rich hues of sunset are ofttimes flung 
 with strange suddenness across the western sky. 
 When Ellyw saw that sign she knew that purpose 
 was indeed strong in Meredydd 's heart, and that she 
 need say nought to encourage or dissuade him. Thus 
 she was wise, although she loved him with all the 
 tenderness of the springtide of life.
 
 94 WONDER TALES. 
 
 Ellyw, therefore, bent low her fair face till the 
 golden hair hid the smile of pride which rippled 
 around her lips, and said simply : 
 
 " Go, Meredydd, and my thought and my heart 
 will keep constant company with your absence. Yet 
 remember the words of the cunning man of 
 Ganllwyd, when he said that whoever would slay the 
 Wyvern must wear a dress of steel. Yea, and he 
 added that whoever approached the monster without 
 such a garb would speedily pass into the realms of 
 silence where sun and stars are for ever hidden." 
 
 " True," answered Meredydd, " and full well I 
 know the words, and the man; and I have thought 
 long and anxiously about them, as I sat and kept 
 the browsing sheep upon the mountain-side. There 
 are men, Ellyw, whose words leap from their mouths 
 as living things endowed with life beyond man's 
 comprehension. Llwyd spake thus, and knew not 
 what he said. Nor did I know the meaning of the 
 utterances, till, having cried aloud amidst the 
 silence of the wise, old hills, their wisdom spoke in 
 response to man's eager questioning and taught me 
 how to act. I shall go with a dress of steel, but 
 not such a dress as Llwyd described." 
 
 So they parted. Meredydd passed out from the
 
 THE WYVERN. 95 
 
 haunts of men, having for company his two faithful 
 hounds and the glorious resolution of his heart ; while 
 Ellyw, the daughter of Hafodfraith, returned to 
 sojourn with her kinsfolk. dwelling 
 
 The world is full of courage and heroism. We 
 see this day by day. Even the creatures of the lower 
 ranks of life show us their bravery. Yet whoever 
 went so bravely to so direful a deed as this simple 
 shepherd lad of Cwm Blaen y Glyn ? The words of 
 the wizard and the thought of the foe each strove to 
 make his path heavy ; while the bright, blue eyes of 
 Ellyw shone before him like two guardian angels 
 beckoning him onward. Then, too, he thought of 
 the threescore cows, and in his mind he heard their 
 lowing as they came home at nightfall to be milked ; 
 and, as he remembered the little white farm which 
 stood vacant on the mountain yonder, he peopled it 
 with many a pleasant thought as he strode onward. 
 Yet was he wary and wise, nor frail in his purpose. 
 By the side of the pathway he had chosen stood 
 the Monastery of the Standard, whose inmates knew 
 Meredydd and loved his merry face and valiant 
 form. He turned in at the gates, passed up to the 
 entrance, and blew loudly upon the horn to tell of 
 his arrival. Then the kindly old priests of the
 
 96 WONDER TALES. 
 
 monastery thronged hastily around him, asking for 
 news, and pressing him to take refreshments. So 
 he sat, and talked, and fed upon the food they placed 
 before him ; yet, when he rose to depart, he said : 
 
 " Friends, for ye are indeed friends to me, trust 
 me and help me in my hour of need. Ye are kindly 
 and know the thoughts which assail the heart of 
 youth. I go on a quest, and need your prayers. So 
 pray for me, but lend me also the glittering axe 
 which fell from heaven, and rests beneath your 
 altar." 
 
 Then the eldest and most saintly of the priests 
 looked on Meredydd and read as on an open page 
 the secrets of his resolve. He spake no word, but 
 rose and fetched the axe carved with mystic words 
 and said by men to have fallen from heaven. For, 
 long since, it was found one morning quivering in 
 the oaken door of the monastery, and none knew 
 whence it came. He placed the weapon in the 
 shepherd's hands, and, looking long and lovingly 
 into Meredydd 's eyes, said : 
 
 " Go ! in God's name, go ! and our prayers shall 
 rise urgently to the throne of heaven. For you go 
 upon the errand of mercy." 
 
 Then Meredydd was fain at heart, nor was it
 
 THE WYVERN. 97 
 
 long before he lit upon the trail of the Wyvern a 
 trail which lay like a band of death along the hill- 
 side. It was near Cynwch Lake he saw the trail, 
 and he followed it cunningly and withal speedily, 
 up the hill-slopes, through the young woods merry 
 with the greenery of spring and bright with the 
 dancing of the daffodils, till across the wood he came 
 to the open pastures beyond. There, with its 
 slithering coils all limp in sleep, with its length all 
 along a milk-white hawthorn hedge, lay the hateful 
 Wyvern. Thus the creature rested peacefully amid 
 the blossoms of May, as sometimes an evil thought 
 will lie hidden among the pure resolves of youth, 
 and none can tell that it is there. 
 
 So vile was the appearance that the heart of 
 Meredydd stopped beating at the sight; and he 
 loathed his task ! Then there arose the memories of 
 the cruel past ; and the thought of the gentle Ellyw, 
 and the kindly priests, ran through his brain like 
 crystal, life-giving drops of healing; and he stole 
 cautiously towards the monster's horrid head. 
 
 Now as Meredydd had passed away from the 
 monastery he knew not that the cunning eye of Llwyd 
 watched him from the old hut opposite the wood. 
 Yet so it was, and reading resolution in the young 
 
 H
 
 98 WONDER TALES. 
 
 shepherd's bearing, Llwyd had tracked Meredydd 
 from afar, and now waited the issue of his venture ; 
 for he, too, as we have heard, coveted the kine and 
 the rich rewards which should fall to the slayer of 
 the Wyvern. 
 
 But Meredydd, thinking only of his lofty purpose 
 and the patience of Ellyw when once she dug him 
 from the pit into which he had fallen while searching 
 for a lost sheep on the mountain, went all the more 
 needfully towards the foe. He felt, with skilful 
 thumb, the keen edge of the axe, and knew that it 
 would not fail him. Again he thought of the loving, 
 tireless patience of Ellyw, the maid, as she toiled to 
 save his life. Once more he heard the sob of her 
 dear breath as she cleared a path to rescue him, and, 
 at the thought, his spirit rose like flame before the 
 wind, and leaped and licked around his heart. Then 
 the knowledge sped into his brain that the white- 
 thorn was one mass of bloom, and that nothing on 
 the wide earth could make the Wyvern so drunken 
 with rich, swooning sleep as the heavy odour of that 
 fragrant flower. So his plans grew clearer in his 
 mind, the cold sweat of fear dried upon him, and he 
 felt that his was the victory. 
 
 He crept along the near side of the hedge till he
 
 THE WYVERN. 99 
 
 found an opening near the Wyvern's head; yet, even 
 as he peeped through the gap, one baleful, green eye 
 unclosed its lazy lid and looked venomously upon 
 him. But sleep closed up the monster's brain as 
 the darkness of night falls upon and hides the 
 marshy swamp, and Meredydd crept out to deal the 
 fatal blow. 
 
 As he passed the nostrils of the Wyvern, its breath 
 came forth as the pestilence which travels by night, 
 and Meredydd well-nigh sank before its hateful 
 stench and the heat of its passage. But he recovered, 
 rose to his full height, and, with the muscles of his 
 arms straining like steel rods under the grip of his 
 hands upon the haft of the axe, he struck a blow that 
 sent the echo throbbing over the hill-side, and the 
 head of the Wyvern fell asunder at his feet. But his 
 peril was great, for the death agonies of that 
 enormous body were not easy to avoid, and Meredydd 
 could not leap aside before the writhing tail caught 
 him with cruel force and stretched him low upon the 
 grass of the meadow. 
 
 Then, as he lay motionless and white as death, 
 the crouching figure of Llwyd crept upon the scene. 
 With rapid eye he took in the details, and mad 
 jealousy seized him. Since he had failed to slay the
 
 100 WONDER TALES. 
 
 Wyvern he resolved that misery should dog the steps 
 of the youth whose courage and simple faith had 
 fairly surpassed his own skill and witchcraft. But, 
 as he stepped forth to do a vile deed, he saw that 
 Meredydd opened his eyes, and raised himself upon 
 his elbow, so he withdrew to the shelter of the wood, 
 shaking with rage, and casting in his mind how to 
 bring evil upon the shepherd lad. 
 
 Meredydd slowly raised himself. He felt cold 
 and hot by starts, then a chill as of death swept over 
 him, and he knew not whether he lived or was dead ; 
 but his heart revived as he looked upon the Wyvern 
 and recollected the deed which gave him the rewards, 
 and Ellyw. As his strength and courage came to 
 him, he rose to his feet, and, cutting out the 
 monster's tongue as a token of victory, he bore this 
 and the axe to the good priests of the Monastery of 
 the Standard. They gave him wine, and, bidding 
 him rest, made haste to carry the good news far and 
 wide to the people of Coed y Moch. Ere nightfall 
 hundreds of rejoicing eyes gazed greedily upon the 
 hated form of the Wyvern, and the glad folk 
 praised the shepherd youth who had delivered them 
 from the thrall and shame. Men wondered at the 
 power of the blow which had cloven that enormous
 
 THE WYVERN 
 
 "Ere nightfall hundreds of rejoicing eyes gazed greedily upon 
 the hated form of the wyvern."
 
 THE WYVERN. 101 
 
 skull; they measured out the Wyvern's length and 
 marvelled at the sharp-pointed wings now drooping 
 in the black, oozy blood which fell in heavy gouts 
 from the wound and flowed slowly down the slope of 
 the hill. On the morrow they dug a mighty grave, 
 and with great difficulty dragged the huge winged 
 snake to its depths. Above the grave they built a 
 cairn to mark the spot where Meredydd won his 
 victory, and ever since that day the hill has been 
 called the Hill of the Wyvern. Men call the cairn 
 :< The Wyvern's Grave," and every year when 
 spring returns, youths and maidens go forth to 
 garland the stones with sweet-scented sprays of 
 whitethorn. 
 
 But at the Monastery of the Standard Meredydd 
 lay at death's door. Many a visitor called to see the 
 deliverer, the saviour of the people of Coed-y-Moch ; 
 but the priests with anxious look told how the poison 
 of the winged snake had entered the blood of the 
 shepherd lad so that he lay all unconscious of the 
 world, and spoke words which had no meaning. 
 
 Then came among others the cunning Llwyd of 
 Ganllwyd, and asked for news. He was met by the 
 worthy old Aneurin, abbot of the monastery, whose 
 eye could read all secrets. And when Llwyd knew
 
 102 WONDER TALES. 
 
 how grievously the fever held Meredydd a baleful 
 gleam of triumph shone from his eyes. Yet he was 
 not aware that he had shown his delight at the dire 
 woe of the young shepherd. But the old abbot saw 
 it and knew the dangers which beset Meredydd's 
 path. Still, he gave a courteous welcome to the 
 wizard, and praised him for his attempts to slay the 
 Wyvern. Yea, and he placed before him good meat 
 and comforting drink, so that Llwyd departed well 
 satisfied from the monastery. 
 
 But as he paced down the path to the entrance 
 gates the abbot watched him sadly with shaded 
 eyes, then, shaking his head, he murmured, " 'Tis 
 well the lad bides with us ; but are there others whom 
 Llwyd can injure? Time will show. Aye, time 
 will show us everything. ' '
 
 MEREDYDD. 
 
 THE SEQUEL TO " THE WYVERN." 
 
 Mereddith 
 (accent on the 
 second 
 syllable). 
 
 O the good priests of the Monastery of 
 the Standard watched carefully over 
 Meredydd, and brought him safely 
 through the illness caused by the 
 evil blows and venom of the Wyvern. They knew 
 of medicinal herbs, they insisted on rest, and they 
 fed him with good homely fare till his blood flowed 
 rich and free once more. 
 
 Then the word went round that Meredydd was 
 restored, and the people came to bring him his gifts. 
 Aye, and the Lord of Nannau came himself, and NannaF. 
 placed the threescore of cattle under the charge of 
 the priests against the time when the shepherd youth
 
 104 WONDER TALES. 
 
 should come and take them home. So many gifts 
 there were that Meredydd knew that from henceforth 
 he was no longer a poor shepherd, but could take his 
 place among the great people of the district, and he 
 resolved that his conduct for the future should make 
 it possible for him to add to his wealth. 
 
 Amid the feasting and revelry which followed 
 the death of the hateful winged snake, Meredydd 's 
 heart was loyal to the past, and directly he grew 
 strong enough to move his limbs freely, he longed 
 the more to go to show himself to Ellyw. What was 
 she thinking about his deed ? Did she wonder at his 
 absence? Why had no message come from Hafod- 
 f raith to assure him that all was well ? But now all 
 folk had given him of their goodwill, and he was 
 free to go from the monastery. Yet, before he went, 
 Aneurin, the old priest, led him aside and whispered 
 words of caution. He told him that he was not free 
 to speak very clearly, but he knew enough to bid him 
 be on his guard against treachery. So Meredydd 
 went forth to seek Ellyw. 
 
 He passed blithely over the road he had traversed 
 to encounter the Wyvern. Then the future was 
 unknown, and his intentions were buried in his 
 heart; but now his name was on everybody's lips,
 
 MEREDYDD. 105 
 
 and wealth had poured in by reason of his bravery. 
 Just as before, the vision of Ellyw shone clearly in 
 his mind, and he longed earnestly to see her once 
 more. One word of praise from her was worth all 
 the world beside; and his footsteps became more 
 rapid as he approached the haunts so familiar to 
 him. 
 
 As he drew near to Ellyw' s house he could almost 
 hear his heart beat, so deep was his emotion; but her 
 parents met him before he reached the door, and 
 told him that the maiden was from home. 
 
 " And why have you not been here before this, 
 Meredydd? " said her mother. 
 
 Meredydd looked at her in astonishment. 
 
 " I could not come," he replied; "for I have 
 been ill, and the priests of the Monastery of the 
 Standard have been restoring me to life." 
 
 The parents exchanged glances, they began to 
 realise that the stories which had been brought to 
 their ears were false, but they did not know of the 
 hatred of Llwyd of Ganllwyd. While gladness 
 abounded among men, anger and bitter resentment 
 ruled the life of Llwyd because the young shepherd 
 lad had carried off the rewards which he himself 
 had striven to obtain. Yet the good old abbot of
 
 106 WONDER TALES. 
 
 the monastery read the mischief, and knew full well 
 that the wizard would strive to take revenge for his 
 imaginary wrongs. 
 
 The three people, so dear to one another, and 
 each so anxious for the absent Ellyw, stood and 
 talked long and earnestly about the events which had 
 occurred, and, as they spoke, the matter grew 
 clearer. Some one must have spread a wrong report. 
 It had been told at Haf odfraith that Meredydd had 
 gone to spend his time in feasting and dancing 
 among the people at Coed-y-Moch, and had forgotten 
 his home and former friends. In bitter sorrow 
 Ellyw had gone away to spend her lonely days at her 
 sister's home, far away beyond the mountain; and 
 Meredydd, with her parents' advice, departed at 
 once to seek her and show her the evil that had been 
 accomplished. 
 
 So he went, but at the house of Ellyw's sister he 
 was once more disappointed. Ellyw had set out for 
 her home and should have arrived there by that time. 
 Meredydd turned away, sad at heart, and without 
 waiting a moment bent his steps homeward. 
 
 A thick white mist had fallen like the skirts of 
 a giant's robe over the heads of the mountains, and 
 rolled ever lower as the night advanced. A strange
 
 MEREDYDD. 107 
 
 foreboding tore at Meredydd's heart, making the 
 way weary and long; but, had he known all, his 
 anxiety would have been increased tenfold. Ellyw 
 had not arrived home, for, by the arts of Llwyd, 
 she had wandered far and wide from her proper 
 path. All through the day she had striven to 
 retrace her steps, but the difficulties increased as her 
 strength grew less; and, after many weary, lonely 
 hours, she sank down sadly upon a flat rock, and 
 sobbed bitterly. 
 
 As she sat thus Llwyd appeared, and, with an 
 evil leer, told her that Meredydd was unfaithful to 
 her, that he was at Coed-y-Moch, feasting and 
 merrymaking with the people, and made much of 
 by the maidens. 
 
 " Aye, and it is said," quoth Llwyd, " that his 
 heart has gone out to one, the fair daughter of the 
 Lord of Nannau, and that the wedding will soon 
 take place." Then he disappeared, and left the 
 lonely Ellyw still more solitary by reason of his 
 words. 
 
 As she sat sorrow-stricken a mountain bird flew 
 down to a crag near by and uttered a frightened, 
 plaintive cry. " Poor bird," she said, " What 
 anguish stirs your heart ? " She rose, and followed
 
 108 WONDER TALES. 
 
 the bird as it flew away. Once more it settled, and 
 gave its sorrowful cry, so she strove to approach it. 
 Again the bird flew ahead, and thus she followed till 
 the mist enwrapped her, and amid pathless ways 
 she heard naught save the cry of the bird. Suddenly 
 her foot sank into a soft yielding spot, and lo ! she 
 was in a morass. With all her efforts, exhausted 
 as she already was, Ellyw was unable to get clear. 
 Alone on the bleak mountain, gripped by the deadly 
 morass, led thither by the arts of the cruel Llwyd, 
 the poor girl seemed doomed to a sad and early death. 
 
 She began earnestly to repeat " Our Father," 
 and the words brought her comfort. She thought of 
 Meredydd and Hafodfraith. The sunny days of 
 the past rose to her mind, and she dwelt with 
 gladness on the comradeship she had enjoyed with 
 Meredydd. Why had he so easily forgotten her? 
 She thought of her old parents; and, as this memory 
 came to her, she burst into tears when she considered 
 how lonely they would be without her. 
 
 "Oh! Meredydd, Meredydd!" she wailed, 
 ' ' why did you go away ? ' ' 
 
 As she spoke it seemed to her that a distant 
 noise broke the dumb silence which lay around. 
 Was it only her imagination? Or was there
 
 MEREDYDD. 109 
 
 actually some sound ? The air grew rapidly colder ; 
 she listened in vain; but she had now sunk to her 
 knees in the morass. She prepared herself to die. 
 Yet, once again, she strove to cry aloud. " Would 
 that Meredydd knew where I was! Meredydd, 
 Meredydd! " 
 
 Then, indeed, there came an answering cry from 
 someone shouting with all his might, "Ellyw! 
 Ellyw! " What could it mean? With all her 
 remaining strength she replied, "Here! Here! 
 Come quickly ! " Then her head fell on her breast. 
 Ellyw had swooned. 
 
 In a few minutes Meredydd came to the edge of 
 the morass, and saw the sad plight of the girl. As 
 he had pursued his sad way homeward, he 
 determined to win Ellyw come what might. He 
 would go and tell her of his victory over the Wyvern, 
 and explain how it was won for her alone. She 
 should see his rewards, the threescore of cattle and 
 all the other gifts; and with these thoughts in his 
 mind he had hurried on. In his haste he had missed 
 his way, and soon found himself wandering on the 
 wild wastes of the mountains. Yet in his loneliness 
 he had cried "Ellyw! Ellyw! " Then through 
 the sombre stillness that enwrapped him, as if in
 
 110 WONDER TALES. 
 
 answer to his wild cry, he thought he had heard the 
 distant voice of the one whom he loved so dearly. 
 He paused, and listened, with his heart beating 
 wildly. How could it be Ellyw in this wild and 
 lonely place? Again he heard the faint cry, and 
 recognised the agony in the voice. He sprang 
 forward, searching wildly until he found the 
 unconscious girl. He leaned over, and with the 
 utmost gentleness, and using every care, he dragged 
 her from the place which she had thought would be 
 her grave. 
 
 Although she was half dead, yet she was life 
 itself to Meredydd. Even as the sun in spring 
 brings back life to the chilled and sleeping trees, 
 so the very sight of Ellyw inspired him with the 
 resolution to bring her safely home. He chafed her 
 cold hands, wrapped her warmly in his shepherd's 
 plaid, and, holding her like a child in his strong 
 young arms, he passed needfully down the mountain- 
 slope. Ere long he saw the eyelids open, and the 
 sad, blue eyes looked wonderingly upward. He 
 bade her be still, and soon she sank into a soft 
 restoring sleep. A shepherd's hut, upon which 
 Meredydd chanced, gave them timely shelter, and 
 when the day broke the mist had rolled away. They
 
 MEREDYDD. Ill 
 
 could see the distant pathway leading like a long, 
 grey silken thread over the mountains to the home 
 at Hafod-fraith. 
 
 Before they reached the home of Ellyw all 
 had been explained, and they knew the cunning arts 
 that had separated them. Then Meredydd recalled 
 the earnest words of Aneurin, the priest, and 
 understood the jealousy which rankled in the heart 
 of Llwyd. He was anxious for the future, yet, as 
 it chanced, even that load was lifted from his heart, 
 for, soon after, some shepherds found Llwyd lying 
 dead at the foot of a precipice. The thick mist 
 which had brought Meredydd and Ellyw together 
 had separated the cruel wizard from the light of 
 day ; and he passed with all his skill and hatred into 
 the abodes of the dead. 
 
 Great was the joy at Hafodfraith when the 
 young shepherd led Ellyw home in safety. Yet a 
 short time after, this happiness was increased by the 
 marriage of Meredydd and Ellyw, and the whole 
 neighbourhood came together to celebrate their 
 union. Meredydd was loved for his courage and 
 gentleness, his faithfulness and his simple heart; 
 Ellyw was dear to everyone for her beauty, and 
 goodness, and patience. They went to live in the
 
 112 WONDER TALES. 
 
 white farm on the mountain-slope, and thither the 
 good priests of the Monastery of the Standard 
 brought all the gifts bestowed upon Meredydd for his 
 victory over the Wyvern. 
 
 As time went on Meredydd's happiness was 
 increased and his wealth multiplied. His children 
 were bold and resolute. They loved and deeply 
 respected their parents, for they often heard from 
 those who knew the story how their father and 
 mother had come together. So great a deed as the 
 victory over the Wyvern sank deep into their hearts ; 
 and thus it has come to pass that the descendants of 
 Meredydd and Ellyw have that well-known coat of 
 arms which depicts a Wyvern, an axe, and a 
 shepherd's crook upon an azure field.
 
 THE STRAND OF THE BITTER CRY. 
 
 I HE waves of war have often swept over 
 the rugged land of Wales and dyed 
 it's green valleys with the red blood 
 of death. The brave children of the 
 land of the west have struggled against the invader 
 on many a battlefield, and the eternal hills have 
 looked down on many a brave deed, and hearkened 
 unto many a sigh as the spirit has fled from its 
 earthly companion. Like other lands, Wales has 
 seen her children make war one upon another; for 
 greed turns the heart of man from gentleness and 
 leads into strange paths those who yield to its evil 
 
 I
 
 114 WONDER TALES. 
 
 influence. In the olden times of which we hear so 
 much and yet know so little, the sight of a few sheep 
 might impel men to slaughter their fellows, and leave 
 their wives in widowhood, and their children sorrow- 
 ing orphans. 
 
 " The mountain sheep are sweeter, 
 
 But the valley sheep are fatter; 
 We therefore deemed it meeter 
 
 To carry off the latter. 
 We made an expedition, 
 
 We met an host and quelled it; 
 We forced a strong position, 
 
 And killed the men who held it. 
 
 We there, in strife bewildering, 
 
 Spilt blood enough to swim in, 
 We orphaned many children 
 
 And widowed many women. 
 The eagles and the ravens 
 
 We glutted with our foemen, 
 The heroes and the cravens, 
 
 The spearmen and the bowmen. 
 
 We brought away from battle, 
 
 And much their land bemoaned them, 
 Two thousand head of cattle, 
 
 And the head of him who owned them. 
 Ednyfed, King of Dyfed, 
 
 His head was borne before us ; 
 His wine and beasts supplied our feasts, 
 
 And his overthrow our chorus." 
 
 So sings a poet about those olden days ; and thus 
 it was, perhaps, that, at the end of the year after
 
 THE STRAND OF THE BITTER CRY. 115 
 
 the slaughter of Elidir Mwynfawr, there came men E !! dir 
 
 muinvaur. 
 
 to Ystrad Clwyd in the north of Britain, even to Elidir greatly 
 
 kind. 
 
 Caernarvon, to avenge the blood of their king. Full Estrad Kmid 
 of anger did they come, with fierce hearts beating to Vale of the 
 slay, and pillage, and take toll for the deed of 
 blood. In their swift onslaught they fell upon 
 Caernarvon, and burnt it to ashes. Then they 
 trampled with heavy foot upon the ruins, laughing 
 loud and long at the scene of desolation which their 
 eyes beheld. 
 
 Yet when Rhun, the son of Maelgwyn Gwynedd, Rheen 
 came and saw their handiwork his heart sank with Gwineth, 
 
 iron white of 
 
 sorrow ; yea, it sank heavily, as a stone sinks through 
 the water. For in that town had lived one whom he 
 loved, and whose eyes were now closed for ever in the 
 fast sleep of death. But Rhun felt more than 
 sorrow. Grief, forsooth, was the first-comer to his 
 heart; then after grief came passion, red-hot, 
 pulsing passion pulsing like lead as it runs through 
 the furnace to the mould beneath. In this anger he 
 turned, and called, " Who will follow me to beat 
 down the bitter foe who hath done this deed? " 
 Then answered many a warrior, deep-voiced and 
 stern, " I will follow thee! " And when Rhun 
 started on the march a mighty host went with him,
 
 116 WONDER TALES. 
 
 and at their head strode the son of Tndo Hen, the 
 chief of men. 
 
 They went with subtilty, and swiftness, and 
 came upon the foe on the shores of the river Gweryd 
 in the north. Then, with such suddenness as one 
 sees when some huge rock breaks loose from its 
 ancient bed, and speeds, thundering and crushing 
 all before it on its powerful rush to the valley, so one 
 army fell upon the other. Amid the clash of steel, 
 the clatter of blade upon buckler, the shivering of 
 pikes, the singing of javelins, the rattling of 
 hauberk, and the ringing of helmets, the stern shout 
 arose, " Remember Caernarvon." Whereupon the 
 men of Caernarvon swept their foes before them as 
 the autumn blast picks up, whirls, and scatters the 
 fallen leaves ; so that when the silver moon stole out 
 from the bosom of the hills, the men who had gone to 
 Ystrad Clwyd lay stiff and stark under her pitying 
 light. 
 
 On the morrow, the men of Caernarvon took their 
 pick from the inhabitants of the land. Widows and 
 orphans stood helpless before them; and not only 
 they, but men of high degree, princes, people whose 
 privilege it was to wear the golden torque of 
 royalty. From all these the conquerors chose whom
 
 THE STRAND OF THE BITTER CRY. 117 
 
 they would, and led them back as slaves and servants 
 to the realms of the north. Such wealth and 
 plunder they had never possessed before; and this 
 was the fruit of their victory. 
 
 Now among these slaves of lofty lineage there 
 was a young Saxon, the wearer of a golden torque. 
 Highborn he was, and accustomed to rule rather than 
 serve. Yet such was his wisdom, and such his 
 natural gentleness and courtesy, that, ere long, all 
 with whom he came in contact sang the praises of 
 Edred, the Saxon slave. Rhun himself would often 
 go and converse with him, and ask him about the 
 story of his youth, about his kith and kin. 
 
 As time went on Edred was appointed to be a 
 personal attendant of Rhun, and daily found fresh 
 favour. But Rhun would often take notice that, 
 when Edred was alone, his eyes looked far away as 
 though they saw something beyond the lofty 
 mountain peaks, and, from time to time, a deep sigh 
 would escape his lips like a worn-out captive stealing 
 from a sad prison. Then Rhun, as he grew to love 
 him better, and more fully understood that far- 
 away look and heavy sigh, came one day, 
 unexpectedly, and, laying his hand on the young 
 Saxon's shoulder, said :
 
 118 WONDER TALES. 
 
 ' ' Tell me, Edred, why your heart is heavy ? Are 
 we not kind to you ? ' ' 
 
 Then Edred made answer, and said : 
 
 " Kind indeed you are, and more than kind. 
 Somehow you, who once were enemies, are, as it were, 
 brothers to me. Yet, when I think of those who 
 reared me and nurtured me in my childhood, sadness 
 steals over me as the greyness steals over the land at 
 eventide. This, O Rhun, you can understand full 
 well, for the Welsh love their kinsfolk dearly, and 
 are true to them." 
 
 Then Rhun stood silent with his head bowed in 
 thought. In silence, also, he turned away and a 
 tear stole from his brave, blue eyes. He strode to 
 his home, and all that day Edred did not see him 
 again. But at night a messenger visited the young 
 Saxon, and he carried with him rich presents of gold 
 and silver, and jewelled garments. He said that 
 Rhun had set Edred free, but he would fain see him 
 again, if, perchance, he ever cared to come and 
 sojourn with the Welsh at Caernarvon. Then Edred 
 was both glad and sorrowful. In haste he went to 
 Rhun and told him that from his heart he thanked 
 him. His desire was, indeed, to visit his own 
 people, yet he would return again to his dear friends
 
 THE STRAND OF THE BITTER CRY. 119 
 
 among the mountains of Wales to show them his 
 gratitude by his devotion. So he made all 
 preparations for his departure. 
 
 Now, in the days of Rhun, there lived in those 
 parts a rich and exceedingly lovely lady named 
 Gwendud. She was as proud as she was beautiful, 
 and held her head in fine disdain whenever she passed 
 through the throng of men who stood to watch her 
 beauty. She was but young, and had many brothers 
 and sisters, yet she differed from them in many ways. 
 They, too, after their own fashion were handsome. 
 But it was in the heart that the difference chiefly 
 lay. For while Gwendud' s kindred had resolved to 
 go through the land of Wales, preaching the glories 
 and bliss of those who followed the Christ, and 
 striving to win their countrymen from a pagan 
 condition, she had no such desire. So that the 
 brothers and sisters had totally different habits from 
 Gwendud. Her great wish was to remain in that 
 neighbourhood and wed some great and noble prince. 
 " Yes," quoth she, with proud look and upturned 
 brow, " my husband shall wear the golden torque. 
 I will not mate with any one of less degree." 
 
 As she spake thus her eyes would sparkle as the 
 blue gems sparkle at the edge of the coronet of some
 
 120 WONDER TALES. 
 
 king, and her bosom, white as the soft down of the 
 swan, rose and fell with the resolve of her heart. 
 Truly she was lovely a vision of the pure spring 
 blossoms flushed with the early crimson of the year, 
 and crowned with the richest gold; and many there 
 were who loved her, yet feared to tell her of their 
 love. Men even said that much as they admired her 
 beauty, they greatly feared to win her as one may 
 watch the beauty and the strength of some splendid 
 steed yet dread to ride it. 
 
 At that time came Hywel, the son of a wealthy 
 neighbour, and told Gwendud of his love for her. 
 With dark and resolute eyes he looked her through 
 and through, and dared proclaim his love and his 
 desire to win her. As he looked in her eyes she read 
 his resolve, and felt that she would willingly yield 
 to him ; but her heart was set on a golden torque, and 
 the nobility that came therewith. For though Hywel 
 was rich, and would one day be still more wealthy, 
 he was not the possessor of the wreath of twisted 
 gold. So she turned coldly away, stilling her heart 
 and its emotions, as the rigid ice checks the throbbing 
 surface of the lake when the moon is full. 
 
 As she stood silent Hywel said : 
 
 " Why do you not answer me, Gwendud? "
 
 THE STRAND OF THE BITTER CRY. 121 
 
 Then, with a low, cruel laugh, she replied : 
 ' ' Does Hy wel wear the torque ? ' ' 
 " Why no," he answered; " I am not royal ! " 
 She made no reply. But when Hywel urged her 
 to tell him her meaning, in measured distant words, 
 she spoke her resolution. So cold was her speech 
 that it fell like a chill upon the youth, and he went 
 silently, despondently, to his home. 
 
 Yet, as Hywel thought long and earnestly about 
 Gwendud, the resolve came to him to win a golden 
 torque by fair means or by foul, for he knew he could 
 not live without her. But he was often in despair, 
 for the wearing of a golden wreath is so high an 
 honour that few attain unto it. However, since the 
 possession of a torque was the sole condition, and this 
 was not altogether impossible, Hywel determined not 
 to rest until he gained one. So he went towards 
 Caer Rhun, near Bangor, to see what the future 
 might bring him. 
 
 It befell that Hywel came to Caer Rhun at the carrheen, 
 time that Edred the Saxon, having obtained e of 
 permission of Rhun, was about to set forth on his 
 journey to the lowlands beyond the mountains. Men 
 talked of his forthcoming departure, of his favour 
 with Rhun, and of his golden torque. As Hywel
 
 122 WONDER TALES. 
 
 heard these words his eyes grew small and sharp as 
 the hard and glittering diamond, and he drew near 
 to hear yet more. 
 
 Quoth one, " Edred goes by way of Conwy, and 
 far beyond, so he needs a guide; yet who can go in 
 the harvest of the year ? ' ' 
 
 " True," said another; " yet, if no guide be 
 found, Rhun so loves him that he himself will lead 
 him on his way." 
 
 Hearing these words Hywel went swiftly to 
 Edred, and, with a face as open as the summer sky, 
 offered to guide the Saxon. 
 
 " I have but just arrived at Caer," said Hywel, car, a camp. 
 ' ' but already I have heard men speak of you and tell 
 of your departure, and, as I myself must go towards 
 Conwy, if you so desire, I will gladly show you the 
 safest and quickest way. Since my childhood I have 
 lived here, and none knows the paths better than I." 
 
 The Saxon youth gladly accepted the offer of the 
 guide, never thinking of the treachery that lurked in 
 Hywel' s heart like some foul monster which, eager 
 for food, sits in a den whose front is adorned with 
 the honeysuckle and tender ivy. For Hywel's 
 intention was to slay Edred, and gain possession of 
 the golden torque.
 
 THE STRAND OF THE BITTER CRY. 123 
 
 So they two set out and came right merrily on 
 their journey till the road forked, so that one path 
 ran smooth and level along the low-lying ground, 
 while another climbed the secret places of the 
 mountains. Here Hywel urged that they should 
 take the upper path, for he told how the lower was 
 infested with ravening wolves, and by a race of men 
 more fierce even than those cruel enemies. 
 
 " Up on the mountain paths," he said, " the 
 way is narrow, and often difficult, but it is free from 
 such bitter foes, while the path by the plain lies 
 through thick woods where the aggressor can lurk 
 unseen." 
 
 Thus he lured Edred away from the beaten 
 track, and the haunts of man, to the wild and 
 unfrequented places of the mountains, in order that 
 he might be more free to do the cruel deed to 
 which his passion impelled him. And Edred, all 
 unsuspecting, went with his guide, listening to his 
 merry conversation. 
 
 When they came to the river, which has ever since 
 that time been called Afon-lladd-Sais, Hywel did Avon-iiath- 
 
 sayes, River- 
 
 the evil that lay in his heart. The place was by a 
 narrow, rushing stream, and all around were great 
 boulders sheltering them from any passer-by who
 
 124 WONDER TALES. 
 
 might chance that way. Away below their feet the 
 great slope swept grandly to the wooded plains, and 
 above them the mountains towered superbly to the 
 sky. The sun had set and all was peace and 
 quietness while they stood to watch the glory of the 
 eventide as it lingered tenderly upon the woods and 
 fields of the plain. Then, as they talked, Hywel 
 drew back one pace, and, in a flash, drove his knife 
 into Edred's back so that he fell heavily, with one 
 bitter sob, upon the stones on the streamlet's bank, 
 and died. 
 
 Hywel stood, looking at the man who a moment 
 before had talked and laughed with him, and now 
 lay so disfigured on the ground. He bent down in 
 haste, and, scarce knowing what he did, he plucked 
 the golden torque from Edred's neck, placed it round 
 his own, then fled in terror from the spot; yea, fled 
 through the fall of the evening, fled through the 
 blackness of the night, nor stayed his fleeting steps 
 until he came with the dawn to the abode of 
 Gwendud. He entered, and said : 
 
 ' ' Behold the golden torque ! Give me your 
 hand! " 
 
 But Gwendud, looking upon him, saw that all 
 was not well, and drew back.
 
 THE STRAND OF THE BITTER CRY. 125 
 
 " Nay, Hywel," she said; " not yet will I give 
 my hand; for I must know how you came by the 
 golden circle that gives you princely rank. Full 
 glad am I to see the torque; but I must know more 
 before we can speak of marriage. ' ' So she sat down 
 to hearken to what he would say. 
 
 Then Hywel let loose the words of his heart till 
 they flowed in tumultuous haste, telling of passionate 
 love, and resolve which knew no restraint. His 
 language poured as some mountain stream, swollen 
 by the winter rains, and held back painfully by 
 hindering rocks, bursts suddenly into a free, clear 
 channel, and dashes forward to the fruitful plain 
 beneath. 
 
 When he had finished Gwendud said : 
 
 " And did you bury the body ? " This she said 
 coldly but with deep meaning. 
 
 "No! " said Hywel. " I dared not stop for 
 that." 
 
 " Then you must go forthwith; nay, say not one 
 word. Go back with all the speed you may, and 
 bury Edred deep out of sight. For mark me, Hywel, 
 should Rhun get to hear of this he will avenge 
 Edred' s blood as surely as the dawn comes after the 
 darkness of night. Then shall all your labours be
 
 126 WONDER TALES. 
 
 in vain, and marriage for me would mean widow- 
 hood, or worse. Go ! Do not see me till the deed is 
 accomplished." 
 
 So Hywel went with haste, and, coming again 
 to the place of murder, looked all unwillingly upon 
 Edred's corpse. Then he commenced to dig a deep 
 grave in the place that is called to this day Braich Brake e Beth, 
 y Bedd.* He toiled long and arduously, and as his gr r e * 
 task neared completion, he paused to rest and look 
 awhile over the plain and its broad fair woods. As 
 he stood leaning on his mattock, thinking how 
 strangely quiet was everything in the world below, 
 from somewhere overhead came a trembling, rushing 
 sound which grew ever louder, till, as though it 
 thundered, rang out the words : 
 
 ' ' WOE UPON WOE ! VENGEANCE WILL COME ! ' ' 
 Then as though the very mountains were 
 awake and answering to the awful sound, the 
 words, "Vengeance will come!' 1 eddied and 
 bubbled around him, sweeping against his ears 
 and refusing to be shut out. Aye, the very rocks 
 bellowed out against him, " Vengeance will come! 
 Vengeance will come! " Three times did this 
 happen, and each time the appalling cry grew 
 louder and more intense, till it seemed as though the
 
 THE STRAND OF THE BITTER CRY. 127 
 
 whole earth must hear the accusing sounds, and 
 demand the reason for them. At the third cry 
 Hywel flung down his mattock, and, leaping horror- 
 stricken from the spot, went trembling like an aspen- 
 leaf to Gwendud. 
 
 As he came before her she said coldly : 
 
 "Is the deed done? " 
 
 "No! " quoth Hywel. 
 
 " Why are you in my presence, then, against my 
 wish? " asked she. 
 
 So Hywel explained, and told her of the awful 
 voice that pealed out over the mountain. Where- 
 upon, woman-like, she asked questions, putting 
 before him things of which he had not thought. 
 
 " Did you ask when vengeance would come? " 
 
 " Nay, said he; " for I fled heart-stricken from 
 the grave. I would sooner cast the torque into the 
 heart of the deepest mountain lake than reply to that 
 voice of Fear. Yea, Gwendud, I would even put 
 aside all thoughts of marriage rather than answer 
 the unknown accuser! " So he stood pale and 
 trembling, before her, and she looked upon him with 
 eyes as piercing as the lightning-flash. But he went 
 on, ' ' Rather than suffer such terrible torture I will 
 go hence to some place of exile and expiate my sin in
 
 128 WONDER TALES. 
 
 long years of bitter repentance till time, if it be 
 possible, shall show full atonement for the deed I 
 have committed." 
 
 At this Gwendud, seeing his resolve and knowing 
 she stood fair to lose him and his love, yet 
 determined to bend him to her will, spoke softly ana 
 with gently impelling words. 
 
 " No, Hywel," she said, with love-filled yearning 
 eyes, eyes which swam like stars before him, " not 
 so. Fear nothing for my sake. But, for our future 
 happiness, go and bury him, and should the cry 
 come again, ask, ' When will vengeance come? ' 
 Do this, because I love you, and would be yours." 
 
 Then smitten with her gentleness and desiring 
 above all to please her, Hywel, casting fear aside, 
 went again to the spot where the body lay. 
 
 He started, once more, his awful task. When the 
 grave was finished he placed therein the stiff form of 
 Edred, and hurriedly set to work to shovel in the 
 earth, to hide the body from his sight. So he 
 continued till the last shovelful was cast and the 
 grave was level with the ground. Then, and not 
 till then, that cry rang out like the trump of doom, 
 " VENGEANCE WILL COME ! " and the echoes sounded, 
 ' ' Vengeance will come ! Vengeance will come ! ' '
 
 THE STRAND OF THE BITTER CRY. 129 
 
 Hywel stood, with his hands before his face, and, 
 in a low quailing voice asked : 
 
 " When? " 
 
 And the unseen proclaimer of doom answered : 
 
 " In the time of the children, the grand- 
 children, and the great-grandchildren! " 
 
 A deadly silence followed these words, and 
 Hywel stole in fear and trembling from the side of 
 the Saxon's grave. 
 
 When he stood again before Gwendud she saw 
 that he had done the deed; but she waited for his 
 news with all the patience peculiar to women. At 
 last he spoke, and said : 
 
 " Gwendud, the voice answered my question! " 
 
 " What did it tell you? " she asked. 
 ' That vengeance would come in the time of the 
 children, the grandchildren, and the great-grand- 
 children ! " 
 
 Gwendud glanced downwards, and, for a time 
 no words passed between them. Then she raised her 
 face, and said quietly, yet with love and admiration 
 in her gaze : 
 
 " Hywel, we both shall be dust long before that 
 time arrives; we need not fear the day; so I give you 
 my hand and all that is mine." 
 
 j
 
 130 WONDER TALES. 
 
 Her desire was ardently towards marriage ; nay, 
 she insisted on its speedy celebration; because the 
 judgment for the evil deed was not to fall until the 
 third generation. 
 
 Never had there been so splendid a wedding in 
 those parts, nor such a handsome bride. The sun 
 shone brightly in the clear sky; the guests were 
 resplendent in gay attire of red and purple adorned 
 with sparkling jewels. The bride rode on a white 
 horse caparisoned with splendid harness, and joy 
 flashed from every eye. Since both Hywel and 
 Gwendud were rich beyond measure, wealth poured 
 in upon them; for that is the way of this strange 
 world. When the father of Hywel passed away, 
 they went to live at the castle, which they magnified 
 and adorned with great splendour and luxury, 
 for, by their abode there, it became a palace. This 
 prince and princess lived such a life as few enjoy. 
 So abundant was the mirth that never a day passed 
 without music and dancing, and the palace rang 
 with boisterous shouts and giddy pleasure, for 
 Gwendud was a right royal hostess and loved gaiety. 
 
 So the years flashed by as some gorgeous 
 cavalcade passes with clatter and laughter through 
 the narrow streets of a town. Children were born
 
 THE STRAND OF THE BITTER CRY. 131 
 
 to the joy-loving couple, and, like their parents, 
 turned with pleasure towards the pursuit of enjoy- 
 ment. Once in a while the brothers and sisters of 
 Gwendud would come to see their sister; but she 
 always sighed with relief when they departed. 
 
 In course of time the children grew up and 
 married, and, to all appearances, were wedded most 
 happily. Seven sons there were, and five daughters, 
 fair as the merry flowers of the summer when the sun 
 shines at its greatest height. As Hywel and 
 Gwendud looked upon their offspring they thought 
 of the voice, and their hearts were blithe as they 
 remembered that vengeance should not fall in their 
 lifetime, nor in that of their children. Then one 
 would say to the other, " Fortunate are we, and 
 blessed beyond ordinary measure in having such 
 children, and in knowing that they will not inherit 
 punishment for our misdeed." 
 
 Truth to tell, as the years waxed and waned and 
 dropped into the river of forgetfulness, so the 
 memory of the deed of horror grew fainter, till one 
 would suppose it had in due course almost faded 
 from the parents' minds. Then a grandson was 
 born to Hywel and Gwendud; the son of their 
 eldest son ; and lo ! another and yet another, till an
 
 132 WONDER TALES. 
 
 abundant generation took the place of that which 
 had grown up so merrily. And the old castle and 
 its recent additional buildings still echoed with 
 laughter and the beating feet of the merry dancers. 
 "Aye," quoth Hywel, " better laugh than be sad." 
 After this fashion the years passed swiftly by. 
 
 In the ripeness of old age Hywel and Gwendud, 
 hale and hearty as the sturdy oaks of the forest, 
 and beautified with the silvery splendour of the 
 years, stood on a day and watched their descendants. 
 Then came one, and said, " Sire, your friends give 
 you joy. Your granddaughter Netha has given 
 birth to a son ! ' ' Thus it came to pass that the 
 years had fled, and they two were great-grand- 
 parents. They looked at each other; then Hywel 
 said : 
 
 " In the days of the great-grandchildren. There- 
 fore not yet, Gwendud, and we shall be gone long 
 before then." 
 
 But so sturdy a line was theirs that it knew no 
 loss by death, and still others were born to swell the 
 numbers. Men marvelled at the family ; and people 
 came from far and foreign places to see the number 
 of the generations. 
 
 However, it is not given to man to live for ever.
 
 THE STRAND OF THE BITTER CRY. 133 
 
 A time must come for each of us when the evening 
 shall fall, night steal over the loftiest mountain- 
 peak, and the flashing stars tell silently of heaven. 
 Both Hywel and Gwendud began to feel the chill 
 of eventide ; and on a day Gwendud, still harbouring 
 the love of mirth and feasting, said to Hywel : 
 
 ' ' Would it not be better to have a banquet for us 
 and our descendants, so that, once again, before we 
 pass hence, we may gather all our sons and 
 daughters, their children, and children's children 
 upon our hearth? Let us forget our age in the 
 merry laugh of our descendants! 
 
 Hywel saw that this was good, and word went 
 forth that on the first day of summer such a feast 
 would be given and all were invited to appear. 
 
 Such preparations were made! Hunters were 
 busy tracking the hart royal in the forest, fishermen 
 cast their nets, and not in vain, for a silvery harvest ; 
 bakers toiled night and day, making the good, crisp 
 bread and spicy cakes. From the deepest vaults 
 of the palace, cellarers fetched sparkling wines 
 redolent of joy and youth. And anon, all was 
 nearly ready for the festive day. 
 
 Meanwhile, Hywel sent to Bangor for skilful 
 players of instruments who should scatter harmony
 
 134 WONDER TALES. 
 
 for the dancers, and kindle merry laughter in the 
 hearts of those who listened. Aye, and a Bard was 
 fetched, a man hoary with age, and famed far and 
 wide for his words and the flow of wit and wisdom. 
 Everything was done in the most costly fashion as a 
 prelude to the departure of the aged couple, which 
 must of necessity happen soon after in peace and 
 perfect quietness. 
 
 Ah ! think you so ? Then hearken once again to 
 the voice of prophecy. Doth not winter follow 
 summer ? Do not sparks fly upwards ? Is not death 
 the sure follower of life, and will not the grave close 
 upon the merry life, which long since lay crowing in 
 the cradle ? 
 
 When all was ready for the feast, the Bard, bent 
 with years, and pure as winter with his snowy locks 
 and long white beard, turned and spoke to a merry 
 dark-eyed maid : 
 
 " Dost thou know that to-day God will bring 
 vengeance on this place? " 
 
 "Vengeance, father?" quoth she, "and 
 why? " 
 
 ' ' Vengeance, my child, ' ' he made answer ; ' ' and 
 that for some hoar, some long-forgotten deed done 
 by the old people ere thou wast born, though
 
 THE STRAND OF THE BITTER CRY. 135 
 
 perchance my own feet had trodden some distance 
 upon this weary pilgrimage. ' ' 
 
 Then he paused, and the maid looked 
 wonderingly upon the working of the spirit which 
 moved him so strangely. At last he laid an old and 
 trembling hand upon her shoulders and spoke again : 
 
 " When thou goest to the cellar in search of 
 mead or wine, look carefully all around, and if thou 
 seest water coming in, and in that water small white 
 fish, come speedily and tell me." 
 
 Then he took up his old harp and played low, 
 soul-stirring music so that all marvelled to hear it; 
 and a dark shadow stole over the faces of Hy wel and 
 Gwendud. 
 
 Sometime in the midst of the feast, when 
 laughter and wine were flowing freely, the maid 
 came swiftly to the side of the Bard, and, with eyes 
 wide open and greatly terrified, she said : 
 
 ' ' Father ! I went erewhile to the cellars, and 
 lo ! they are half full of water, and in that water 
 strange white fish move heavily to and fro ! ' ' 
 
 " Well, then," he answered, " come now with 
 me, maiden; come at once; let us flee away for our 
 lives, and, indeed, it is high time ! ' : So they two 
 went swiftly from the hall.
 
 136 WONDER TALES. 
 
 They passed rapidly away from the palace, 
 hearing as they sped the joyous sounds of merry- 
 making and dancing; but, before they left the 
 grounds that surrounded the ancient walls they 
 paused in horror as the sound of the mighty roar 
 of lofty ocean waves leaping against the palace walls 
 broke upon their ears. Then arose a cry, a terrible, 
 heartrending, piercing sound, which sent a cold 
 shiver over their bodies, causing the hair of their 
 heads to stand upright. But they had no time to 
 wait, for already water was sobbing in the grass at 
 their feet, and soon they were running ankle-deep 
 in a frothy foam that hissed around them like the 
 hiss of a thousand vipers. Yet as they went up the 
 hill-side, they left the water; and, climbing higher 
 and higher, stood at last upon the mountain summit. 
 It was night and very dark. Thus in sorrow and 
 bitter anguish they sat down, waiting for the dawn. 
 
 Who can so describe the disclosure of that dawn 
 that he who hears may see what lay before their eyes ? 
 A mighty waste of misty waters ! The boundless sea 
 lay moaning over the land. The old Bard and the 
 young serving-maid alone had escaped from the 
 Palace of Pleasure, and the doom of the years. 
 " Vengeance will come; vengeance will come! "
 
 THE STRAND OF THE BITTER CRY 
 
 "Father! I went erewhile to the cellars, and lo ! they are half 
 full of water, and in that water strange fish move heavily to and fro."
 
 THE STRAND OF THE BITTER CRY. 137 
 
 Men say (and who can refuse to believe them?) 
 that, when the wind blows strongly from the east 
 and the tide sinks low, the walls of Hywel's palace 
 are visible to this day. And this is the legend of 
 the Strand of the Bitter Cry.
 
 IDWAL OF NANT CLWYD. 
 
 Nant Kluid, 
 brook of the 
 
 N the valley of Nant Clwyd one used to gat 
 see in the by-gone days an old deserted 
 farmhouse. By the side of its pros- 
 perous neighbours it looked shabby 
 and forlorn. While plenty and shining contentment 
 seemed to smile about the doors and windows of the 
 other farms, this poor old waif, left bare and 
 desolate in the midst of the fertile valley, seemed to 
 beg for a touch of pity and the glance of compassion. 
 Yet the valley was fertile, and the little stream as it 
 purled over its cosy bed seemed to speak of the 
 wealth of the mountains. Why was this picture of 
 desolation painted so clearly on the canvas of nature ?
 
 IDWAL OF NANT CLWYD. 139 
 
 Ah ! that is a story that carries one a long way back, 
 amid strange scenes in another and stranger 
 generation. But come, and we will hear this strange 
 tale of Idwal of Nant Clwyd. 
 
 The parents of Idwal were worthy and 
 respectable farming folk, and they lived in the farm 
 at Nant Clwyd. Several children had been born to 
 them, but one after the other passed away in child- 
 hood. Then, last of all, came Idwal; and as the rose 
 that blooms late in the spring escapes the cold biting 
 winds which shatter tender petals, so Idwal made 
 his appearance after the sorrows of the family had 
 fled. One need not say he was the light of his 
 parents' eyes. Through him they hoped that their 
 line would be continued. No man dies with an easy 
 mind unless he has someone who, when he is dead, 
 can arrange for his funeral, or who will water his 
 grave with tears, and gladden it with flowers. From 
 whom can one expect such kind offices if not from 
 one's children? Man loves to believe that there 
 will be a little sorrow after he has departed from 
 this world of time, and what human being is so free 
 from this harmless desire that he can afford to laugh 
 or stare at another ? 
 
 One day Idwal went out hunting with a faithful
 
 140 WONDER TALES. 
 
 friend. This was Caradog, the son of the people 
 who lived at the farm next to Nant Clwyd. Idwal 
 and Caradog had played together as children, sat 
 side by side at school, and, growing older, had 
 courted, and then married at the same time. For, 
 at the same hour, in the same church, and before the 
 same priest, they had married two sisters. One can 
 imagine how happy these four had been in the green 
 shelter of the dear valleys in the heart of Wales. 
 
 Idwal and Caradog started out, and, after a 
 time at their sport, they came to a dense thicket 
 whose branches so intertwined that they formed a 
 green roof overhead. Here the two friends separated 
 in order that each might track the game more 
 stealthily. Caradog, finding after a while that the 
 day was growing old, and knowing full well that it 
 would take some time to reach their homes, began 
 to make some effort to find Idwal. He called and 
 even shouted; but in vain. In spite of every effort 
 Idwal remained lost, till at last Caradog departed 
 to tell the news at home. No one slept a wink at 
 Nant Clwyd that night by reason of anxiety, and 
 hopes, and fears. Yes, indeed, fears for the worst, 
 and hopes for the best filled every heart. 
 
 On the morrow they all went to search for Idwal.
 
 IDWAL OF NANT CLWYD. 141 
 
 The ploughs stood idle on the soil, and the farm- 
 yards were strangely quiet. In the wood, however, 
 there was tumult. Men went rapidly searching 
 every nook and corner where Idwal had been lost. 
 But their efforts were in vain. In spite of the 
 warmth of friendship between the two hunters, the 
 tongue of slander began to move busily and shape 
 treachery against Caradog. But his manner was so 
 honest and his face so open, his answers to questions 
 so kindly, that every doubt was killed, causing 
 slander to drink its own blood. 
 
 Idwal was sought for with the utmost care. The 
 whole wood was searched, and scarcely a twig was 
 left untouched. So keen and intent was the search 
 that one might have thought that the people in that 
 wood had gone suddenly mad and wandered in their 
 madness. Their loud cries lent ears to the wind; 
 but that brought no answer on its wings ; not even the 
 smallest cry from Idwal. The testimony of the 
 trembling leaves was the only response that they 
 received to their soul-stirring questions. 
 
 After a long, long quest, some of them saw a 
 circle of the Tylwyth Teg near the spot where Idwal 
 had disappeared. Then, truly, all doubt was 
 removed; for they decided at once that Idwal had
 
 142 WONDER TALES. 
 
 been unfortunate enough to come under the spell of 
 the small strange people, and had been lured away 
 by their strange, sweet music to the land of Hud-a- 
 Lledrith. 
 
 Gradually all hope of seeing Idwal of Nant 
 Clwyd faded away. His friends said, " We shall 
 see him no more in the land of the living, ' ' and their 
 tears were very bitter as they mourned for his 
 absence. But before he was completely forgotten, a 
 circumstance occurred which brought again his 
 memory in a striking manner. At the end of four 
 months a child was born, who in very truth was just 
 the living image of his father. This child grew to 
 manhood, and filled the place of his father in the 
 hearts of the old grandparents. He also, in due 
 course, was married, and his bride was a young and 
 lovely girl from the neighbourhood. Alas ! courtesy 
 and generosity were not among the virtues of her 
 kinsfolk. 
 
 Now these two virtues have never been seen apart 
 since the world began. Love-twins are they, yet 
 generosity is the elder of the twain. Each is the 
 life-breath of the other, the other's soul. And say 
 now, those who know, whoever heard of a courteous 
 miser ? Yes, Idwal's son had married into a family
 
 IDWAL OF NANT CLWYD. 143 
 
 of misers who had banished all gentleness, all 
 courtesy, all compassion from their hearts. And, 
 woe upon woe, yea, till the heart trembles at the pity 
 of it, greed and the denial of these virtues were the 
 first things they taught their offsprings. 
 
 The daughter-in-law was thus. She knew not 
 the warmth which breaks into fire at some kindly 
 deed. Cold in heart was she; cold as the icicle that 
 clings to the edge of the snow bear's cave. 
 
 In the passage of time the father and mother and 
 the wife of Idwal closed their eyes upon this world. 
 Fifty years of joy and sadness, of despair and hope 
 had sped over the heads of the sons of men since 
 Idwal had vanished so secretly. Not one of the sons 
 of man was there so lofty as to avoid the passing of 
 the bitter cup, nor was there one so humble but that 
 he was at times able to spare a drop from the cup of 
 sweetness. 
 
 Then came one cold and cheerless day in 
 February ; such a day as sees the trees despair of life, 
 and groan and crack with the chill of winter in their 
 hearts. The children of Nant Clwyd saw through 
 the windows an old, white-haired man, thin and tall, 
 approaching the farm. With trembling steps he 
 drew nearer to the house. In appearance he seemed
 
 144 WONDER TALES. 
 
 a beggar ; and, forsooth, he must have been a great 
 stranger to those parts, if he turned his steps to Nant 
 Clwyd in hope of charity! His clothes lay in 
 miserable rags upon his limbs, and the servants of 
 the spindle-side and their close-eyed mistress, after 
 considering him, mocked him to his face. " Ah! 
 ah! " they shrilled in high-pitched, woman's 
 laughter, " the old Irishman! " And they said to 
 him, " We are not at all surprised to see a man of 
 your condition walk up to the door, and knock thus, 
 without ceremony." 
 
 The old man looked at them, and said : 
 
 ' ' Where are my mother, and my father, and my 
 wife? " 
 
 The farmer's wife in anger bade him quit the 
 house as fast as he could go, before her husband 
 came home and treated him to the butt-end of his 
 whip. 
 
 By this time the poor ancient looked helpless and 
 disconcerted. Everything about the house had 
 changed. Where once the old easy chair had stood, 
 there was now a couch against the wall. The pewter 
 had gone; but still there was sufficient to convince 
 him that Nant Clwyd was Nant Clwyd. In a 
 trembling voice and quailing manner he told her he
 
 IDWAL OF NANT CLWYD 
 
 "The old man looked at them and said: 'Where are my mother 
 and my father and my wife?'"
 
 IDWAL OF NANT CLWYD. 145 
 
 had gone out yesterday morning to hunt, and how a 
 heavy sleep had stolen upon him, so that he had even 
 passed the night in the woods. 
 
 " Ah! " replied the shrew, " I have heard my 
 husband say that there was once a rumour that his 
 father was lost while hunting, and everybody 
 thought he had been killed ! ' ' Then she shook with 
 anger, and again screamed at him to go away. 
 
 This roused the fury of the old stranger. He 
 declared that Nant Clwyd was his house and he 
 should insist upon his rights. Then, with a heavy 
 crash, the door was slammed in his face, and the day 
 seemed colder and more cheerless than before. 
 
 He turned his tottering steps towards the nearest 
 farm, the homestead of his friend Caradog; and 
 there his eyes fell on an old, old man, helpless, and 
 sitting thoughtfully by the sparkling fire-side. They 
 talked in quavering tones about the youth and the 
 days gone by, and, as they conversed, those days 
 appeared like a fair summer scene in a playhouse. 
 Then the mist of the years rolled away, and each 
 knew even as he was known. Their trembling old 
 arms lay about each other's neck, and unwonted tears 
 trickled down their furrowed cheeks. Then did 
 Idwal learn his true position ; and the poor, old man 
 
 K
 
 146 WONDER TALES. 
 
 found the society of Caradog so kindly that he did 
 not return to Nant Clwyd. A welcome meal (nay, 
 call it a feast) was spread upon the table, and all the 
 old folk of the neighbourhood were invited, and 
 came crowding to see the long-lost Idwal. The 
 evening hours sped by in a delightful manner. They 
 talked over old times till sleep grew more welcome 
 than words; and then the two old men withdrew to 
 share the same room and bed, while silence spread 
 over the household. 
 
 The following day, when all the others had come 
 down, these two were so long in making their 
 appearance that Caradog's kinsfolk went up to call 
 them forth to breakfast. Yet no response was made 
 to the loud rapping on the bedroom door. Then the 
 family passed into the still and peaceful room, and 
 there upon the bed the two old friends lay quiet and 
 at rest. Death, the gentle friend of the aged, had 
 come in the night, and, holding a hand of each, had 
 wandered forth with Idwal and Caradog. Yet it 
 was often said in the neighbourhood that it was not 
 Idwal but his spirit which came to fetch his comrade, 
 and as soon as Caradog had heard the message, fain 
 at heart, he had begged the rulers of the land of 
 Spirits that he might go forthwith with his comrade,
 
 IDWAL OF NANT CLWYD. 147 
 
 and thus they had fared forth together to a better 
 land. 
 
 But this is quite certain, a curse fell upon the 
 family at Nant Clwyd, yea, even to the fifth 
 generation. Do what they would everything was a 
 failure. Seed-time and harvest brought every year 
 their tale of disaster. It is true, moreover, that the 
 farm was sold nine times before the curse departed 
 off the fields that Idwal had tilled, and from the 
 home to which he had brought his young bride. And 
 that is the story of the deserted farmhouse in the 
 valley of Nant Clwyd.
 
 MODRED THE DRUID. 
 
 blood 
 
 ONG, long ago, when the all-conquering 
 sword of Rome had pierced to the 
 westernmost part of Britain, staining 
 the green fields red with the glorious 
 her defenders, there lived a Druid 
 named Modred. Men called him Modred the wise, 
 for he was known far and wide for his holiness, and 
 wisdom, and his devotion to the gods. Yes, indeed, 
 he was truly a worthy Druid; but alas! the times 
 had swept evil days over his old age, and from 
 henceforth his lot was to see the holy altars dripping 
 with the blood of its godly priests, and the sacred 
 groves mocked by the cruel dogs of war. So Modred 
 sought for a shelter from the howling tempest, and
 
 MODRED THE DRUID. 149 
 
 wandered among the old, grey hills till he found 
 what he sought. 
 
 The shelter he chose was a cave placed securely 
 in the ample bosom of a broad mountain-side. A 
 hidden and gentle slope led up to its entrance, and 
 so winding and puzzling was the path that the cave 
 was unknown to all save those whom the kindly hand 
 of the Druid guided to the secret place. Within 
 the cave there was room and to spare, for nature 
 had separated it into several large divisions where 
 one might find rest and comfort. And so this quiet, 
 secluded spot was a haven for harmlessness and 
 virtue. Hither came young and tender virgins 
 fleeing from the passionate soldiery. Hither, also, 
 virtuous women would flock from the cruelty of their 
 foes; and the fatherless and widowed came to 
 Modred's cave for safety and solace. Yes, and 
 hither crept brave old warriors wounded in the fray, 
 bringing their wounds to Modred to be healed. He 
 nursed them with loving care and skill until, restored 
 and healed, they departed with renewed strength to 
 the field of battle. 
 
 Every morning and every evening Modred went 
 out from his cave, and, bending low in an attitude 
 of prayer, poured forth his worship amidst the holy
 
 150 WONDER TALES. 
 
 oak-trees in the grove that stood in grandeur on the 
 slopes of the mountain. Whether the lofty summits 
 were veiled in the cold grey mist, or gleamed with 
 the warm rays of the sun, whether the mountain 
 thrilled with the song of a thousand streaming 
 rivulets, or rose vast and silent in a mantle of silver 
 snow alike in all weathers, Modred bent before his 
 country's gods. In the grove he built a holy altar, 
 and, according to the custom of the wise and learned 
 who had gone before him, he duly placed upon it the 
 sacred offering of meal. Thus he passed his days in 
 prayer, reflection, and almsgiving. He drank the 
 water from a limpid brook that leaped clear as 
 crystal from the rock where nature had shaped its 
 crude cradle. His food was the health-giving herbs 
 that grew in friendly profusion around that lonely 
 abode. 
 
 Such was Modred the Druid, in whose daily life 
 and custom were united the sinlessness of childhood 
 and the wisdom of old age. 
 
 One day Modred had wandered afar to seek for 
 healing herbs. The sun rode glittering in a clear, 
 burnished sky. All nature stood in tuneful peace. 
 Suddenly, as he walked, his eye caught sight of red 
 stains that lay upon the herbage. As he went on,
 
 MODRED THE DRUID. 151 
 
 the red drops were spilled more freely, and his gentle 
 heart called him to follow the scarlet stream to its 
 source. In a spot tangled with undergrowth, and 
 hedged round with thick tendrils, Modred found a 
 man in armour lying stretched upon the ground. 
 He seemed to have swooned, and, as the aged priest 
 turned the limp head towards him, he saw that the 
 warrior was in the flower of youth. His armour 
 showed that he was a Roman, and, therefore, a 
 relentless foe. Yet pity for the sorrowful and 
 helpless swept through Modred 's heart, causing him 
 to forget forthwith the enemies that spread ruin 
 and havoc over the land. He lifted him tenderly in 
 his arms, and poured a cordial between the pale 
 and parted lips. Then he gave the wounded man a 
 herbal mdicine that he always carried with him, 
 and of such restorative power that a few drops of it 
 seemed to give new life. The youth opened his eyes, 
 and there came a sigh from the returning spirit ; but 
 he was still so weak and helpless that he could not 
 stand upon his feet. Modred, seeing that the 
 stranger could not rise without more help than he 
 could give, hurried back, through the day's moon- 
 tide heat, to his cave, and, ere long, returned with a 
 youth named Gwydyr.
 
 152 WONDER TALES. 
 
 Now Gwydyr was the bravest of all the youth of 
 Britain who fearlessly bore the sword to defend their 
 freedom, and he was as fair to behold as he was 
 brave, for nature had formed his body in wondrous 
 wise, and thus his appearance was such as art often 
 refuses to the work of her most ardent disciples. 
 Often had Gwydyr given proof of his courage in the 
 battles he had fought against the enemy. His 
 courtesy, also, matched his bravery, and his 
 kindliness of heart was known to all. 
 
 With Gwydyr 's help the wounded Roman youth 
 was borne to the cavern; but, because he was a 
 Roman, they first bandaged his eyes, lest he might 
 learn the approach to the hiding-place and in that 
 way be the cause of future war. 
 
 So they brought him to the cave, removed the 
 bandage, then, unlacing his armour, laid him upon a 
 heap of soft and yielding moss. Modred gave 
 careful heed to the cruel slashes, and found that 
 with care the youth might soon be cured. He soothed 
 the aching pain with oil, placed certain herbs of 
 unfailing virtue upon the gaping wounds, and then 
 stole out, leaving him to the gentle care of soft and 
 kindly sleep. 
 
 When he returned, after some lapse of time, the
 
 MODRED THE DRUID. 153 
 
 stranger youth was so recovered, by reason of the 
 medicine and the miraculous power of sleep, that he 
 could ask Modred in a low and trembling voice into 
 whose hands he had fallen. Then, indeed, when he 
 learned that his captors were Britons, he showed by 
 his expression that he had no hope of mercy from 
 them. Modred read his face like an open book, and, 
 knowing his thoughts, tried to dispel his fears and 
 suspicion. 
 
 " Youth," said he, " thou art in the hands of 
 those whom thy nation is apt to call wild people. 
 Yet, though we are in truth strangers to those 
 marvellous arts that are practised by civilised 
 nations to lay a fair covering over the most wicked 
 and treacherous intentions, believe me when I say 
 that the Britons are not unfamiliar with the virtues 
 of hospitality and courtesy. Yea, they love victory, 
 but they never rejoice in the blood of a fellow- 
 creature. Therefore, brave youth, know that whilst 
 thou art in the care of Modred, thou shalt be safe 
 from harm and all unkindness." 
 
 The young Roman greatly wondered at this 
 unexpected beneficence; yet he could but think that 
 this courteous behaviour was only to cloak some 
 hostile intention. But as he was ready with Roman
 
 154 WONDER TALES. 
 
 courage to meet his fate calmly and bravely, whether 
 it smiled or frowned, he did not allow his surround- 
 ings to disturb his state of mind, and this, of course, 
 was the best way to re-establish his health of body. 
 
 In the morning the Druid saw that his patient 
 had wonderfully recovered, so they talked together. 
 Modred learned that the young Roman was an officer 
 in the invading army, and that accompanied by five 
 soldiers he had left the camp about three days before. 
 His aim had been to find out the position of his foes. 
 But his men, so he thought, had been hired by some 
 fellow-officer who had long had a grudge against 
 him, and, at the moment when, unsuspecting, his 
 back was turned upon them, they, like traitors, had 
 struck him down, leaving him as one who is dead. 
 He thanked Modred for his kindness. 
 
 " Ay, aged priest, my heart goes out to thee in 
 gratitude, nor can I ever hope to repay thee for thy 
 timely aid." 
 
 As he spoke these words, there came upon their 
 ears a rushing sound as of many voices. Modred, 
 looking wistfully upon the youth, gave him a sign 
 that he should follow him in silence from the cave. 
 As they entered the great white light of the day, 
 they saw that a number of people of all ages and
 
 MODRED THE DRUID. 155 
 
 kinds had gathered together for the rites of 
 sacrifice. 
 
 At the appearance of Modred, a hush spread over 
 the multitude but it was a hush that yielded like 
 calm upon the sea before the lashing tempest. At 
 the sight of the Roman youth a murmur arose, for 
 each man turned to his neighbour in stern inquiry. 
 Passion welled forth and spread hither and thither 
 unrestrained. " Tear the accursed foe to pieces! " 
 they howled. Then thy pressed forward up the dark 
 slope of the hoary mountain. Nor did the gentle 
 aspect of Modred check them; and tragedy gazed 
 out from behind her mask. Yet they stayed as 
 Modred raised his aged arm and looked for silence. 
 
 " Brothers, sisters," he exclaimed, " have I so 
 long served you that you thus invade my habitation ? 
 Is the oil of anointing that I have poured into your 
 wounds to be paid for in the warm red blood of my 
 guest ? Is that your gratitude to your aged priest ? 
 Is that your love for your country's religion? " 
 
 Thus Modred was winning them, but an evil- 
 faced old woman on the outskirts of the crown 
 screamed, " Down with the accursed foes who tear 
 our children from our breasts and spill the fathers' 
 blood upon the threshold. On, then, ye cravens and
 
 156 WONDER TALES. 
 
 kill ! Ay, and if need be, arise and slay the babbling 
 old priest. The gods of Britain await the victim ye 
 shall offer." 
 
 Then a groan of bitterness spread over the 
 assembly, like the low moaning that passes through 
 the swaying tops of the oak-trees when the storm 
 comes from the west. Again the men, howling 
 fiercely their hatred, moved forward, and Modred 
 knew he could not stay them. Nor could Gwydyr, 
 eager though he was to save Modred 's guest. He 
 was brushed aside in the pathway as a stone is swept 
 away by the rushing of the winter's snow when it 
 seeks the valley. 
 
 Then came a sudden and wondrous hush over all 
 the mountain-side. Morfudd, sister of Gwydyr, 
 lovely and pure as he was brave and handsome, came 
 slowly down the pathway from the mountain-top. 
 The trembling rays of the morning sun fell upon 
 her snow-white garments. The breeze lifted very 
 gently her blue-black hair as it streamed around her 
 shoulders, and her throat was white as the flowers 
 she carried in her hands. 
 
 " Lo! " the people cried. " Lo! the virgin of 
 the sacrifice," and they knelt upon the soil. And 
 Morfudd came gently down the pathway, and, as
 
 MODRED THE DRUID. 157 
 
 she advanced, she sang with a sweet voice like a 
 bird singing its first love song in the groves at 
 springtide : 
 
 " Amid the silvery moonlight, 
 
 With golden sickle free, 
 
 A virgin pure and sinless, 
 
 I cut thee from thy tree. 
 
 vervain, fair and holy, 
 
 I wreathe thee in my hands, 
 
 As white, and pure, and spotless 
 As are thy sacred strands. 
 
 And now in love I cast thee, 
 Fair pledge of heavenly peace, 
 Upon this wounded warrior 
 That enmity may cease." 
 
 Long years after, three people stood by the Cave 
 of Modred, and they placed vervain upon the little 
 heap of stones that stood at its entrance, while at a 
 distance four boys and two young girls watched the 
 older folk. 
 
 " Why do they do that? " asked a tiny, black- 
 haired maiden. " Why do father and mother and 
 our uncle Gwydyr look so sad ? " 
 
 And the eldest son of the Roman youth and 
 Morfudd answered : 
 
 " Because that is the grave of Modred the 
 Druid."
 
 EINON AND OLWEN. 
 
 N the slopes of the beautiful valley of 
 Rhondda-wen, there lived many 
 years ago a family who were as fair as 
 the fairness of the spring dawn when 
 the lingering snows fondle the distant hill-tops. 
 Gentle and kindly were they ; so gentle and so kindly, 
 indeed, that even the swift swallows stayed to twitter 
 around them, and the flowers waved softly as they 
 passed. The family was for generations called the 
 Fair Family. Would you like to know why ? Bead 
 this story and you will understand. 
 
 Once upon a time, long years ago, a shepherd boy 
 called Einon went out with his sheep upon the 
 mountains. While he was there a dense mist
 
 EINON AND OLWEN. 159 
 
 tumbled out of the sky, and fell like a great curtain 
 upon the hills and valleys, so that before long the 
 boy had lost his way, and was separated from his 
 sheep. He wandered on and on until he came to a 
 low-lying valley, damp, and overgrown with long 
 green rushes which formed strange circles. When 
 the shepherd lad saw these rings, he remembered 
 that people had told him about them, and the fairies 
 who danced in and out, along the marsh. So he 
 hurried away as fast as he could run to avoid meeting 
 any of these creatures; and he ran till the sweat 
 rolled down his face and his breath came in choking 
 sobs. But run as he would his feet seemed to make 
 hardly any progress. His heart sank with despair. 
 
 Just then there came out of the mist, and from 
 among the dank rushes, a small old man. At least, 
 he seemed to be extremely old, yet his eyes were very 
 merry and wonderfully blue. 
 
 " What is the matter, my boy? " said he. 
 
 "I'm trying to find my way out of the valley 
 because of the fairies," answered the lad. 
 
 " Oh ! " said the old man, " you had better come 
 with me, then; but come very silently, and pray 
 don't speak a word until I say that you may do so." 
 
 So the shepherd boy followed his guide over
 
 160 WONDER TALES. 
 
 craggy paths and through tangles of bushes, till at 
 last they reached a large stone which stood upright 
 in the ground. The old man tapped three times on 
 this stone, and then, putting his wrinkled hand upon 
 it, pushed it back, and lo! before their very eyes 
 opened a long, narrow passage, dipping down 
 beneath the earth, and broken, every now and again, 
 by little flights of stairs. And the wonder of it was 
 that a grey light seemed to pour out of the stone 
 walls and roof, and thus one could see quite plainly. 
 
 "Follow me," quoth the old man. "Fear 
 nothing, for no harm shall come to you." 
 
 The shepherd boy did not like to refuse, so he 
 followed his nose, more like a dog going to be 
 hanged than after the manner of a merry-hearted 
 boy. 
 
 But soon he forgot his fears. A lovely country- 
 side, filled with the flashing light of the sun, and 
 decked with green trees spangled with golden fruit 
 spread before him. Winding rivers gleamed in the 
 sunshine, and on the rich slopes of the verdant hills 
 stood many a magnificent palace wrought wonder- 
 fully of white stone which dazzled the sight. 
 Through the verdure babbled noisy little brooks, 
 dancing in glee round the soft-moulded hills. Birds
 
 EINON AND OLWEN. 161 
 
 with gorgeous plumage flitted by like fleeting rain- 
 bows, and the bushes were decked with the 
 brightness of a thousand lovely blossoms. The boy 
 walked in silence, dumb with the sense of loveliness 
 that stole over his nature. Then the scene changed. 
 Gold and silver veins lay about the hills and rocks 
 like sunbeams darting over the surface of a lake. 
 Wonderful music from myriad instruments came 
 wafted on the breeze. Yet he could see no one but 
 his old, old guide. 
 
 Soon they sat down at a table spread with a 
 banquet more than fit for a king. Course after 
 course came unbidden, carried by unseen hands; 
 and, when they had eaten, then the dishes of their 
 own accord passed away before their sight. Round 
 about the shepherd boy stole sweet murmurings. 
 Soft whispers fell on his ears; gentle voices called 
 him ; but, look as he might, he could see no one. 
 
 At last the old man spoke. 
 
 " Speak as much as ever you wish," said he. 
 " There's no need for silence now. 55 
 
 Then to the boy's wonder and alarm he realised 
 that he could not speak. His tongue seemed to lie 
 in his mouth like an icicle, so hard and so cold it had 
 become. His panic increased and he knew not what 
 
 L
 
 162 WONDER TALES. 
 
 to do when, all at once, there appeared (whence he 
 could not tell) a plump old woman with cheeks like 
 rosy apples, and she smiled gently at the lad. 
 Behind her stole three fair maidens, loveliest of the 
 lovely, and still more lovely. Their fair skin was 
 like the hawthorn for its whiteness, and the rose for 
 its warmth. Long golden hair streamed over their 
 shoulders, falling in ringlets round their waists. 
 They glanced half playfully at the wondering youth, 
 and he longed to speak to them; but he could not. 
 His lips and tongue refused to move. Then one of 
 the maidens came coyly towards him, twisting her 
 fair curls about her white fingers, and glancing 
 downward with her tender eyes. Lifting her warm 
 red lips she imprinted their glow upon the lad's 
 chill mouth, and at once his ice-cold tongue grew 
 soft and yielding, just as the kiss of spring sets free 
 the ice-bound streams of the mountain-side. 
 
 Under the spell of her kiss he seemed to live in a 
 glorious paradise. He spoke freely and with 
 joyousness. His fear fell from him like a garment, 
 and he paid no heed to time. The days slipped by 
 till a year and a day had passed, only, to the 
 shepherd lad, the time seemed to be but one day, 
 fair and bright with never a cloud. At last came
 
 EINON AND OLWEN. 163 
 
 the remembrance of his home, and, as the thought 
 came to him, hiraeth stirred in his breast that pain 
 which clutches the heart when one is far away from 
 the dear old home of one's childhood. He ran to 
 the old man, and, thanking him earnestly for all his 
 kindness, begged that he might go and visit his 
 friends once again. 
 
 " Wait a spell," he answered, " and you shall 
 
 go." 
 
 And so it happened. But when the lad came to 
 the moment of his departure, Olwen (for that was 
 the name of the maiden who kissed him) was sad at 
 heart. Tear-drops stood in her soft, blue eyes, and 
 her lips trembled; and Einon's heart grew cold 
 within him at the thought of saying good-bye to her. 
 
 Still he felt he must go, so they gave him gold 
 and silver, rich jewels without number, and he made 
 his journey to his long-lost home. In great glee he 
 came to his native village, thinking of the welcome 
 he would receive; but, sad to tell, people looked at 
 him and wondered who he was. 
 
 " That, the shepherd lad who was killed by his 
 mate on the mountain-side! Why he's not in the 
 least like him. Besides, the other shepherd fled 
 because he had killed him."
 
 164 WONDER TALES. 
 
 Even his own father and mother did not 
 remember him. Nor was this to be wondered at, for 
 Einon had gone away just a poorly clad shepherd 
 boy, but now he stood among them dressed in rich 
 apparel, splendid in manner and speech, and 
 possessed of riches untold. 
 
 " 'Tis some strange and noble lord," they said; 
 " Einon was poor." 
 
 Well, Einon dwelt with his people till he felt his 
 heart yearning for the tender glancs of Olwen, and 
 one Thursday night when the silver moon was full, 
 and flooding the deep blue sky, he stole away again, 
 none knowing whither he had gone. 
 
 Great was the rejoicing in the underworld when 
 Einon came back, and none was more blithe than 
 Olwen. The absence had made their hearts more 
 loving, and they longed to be married that they 
 might never be separated again. This was a great 
 difficulty, for in the underworld nothing was more 
 disliked than noise and confusion. At last, however, 
 as it were half secretly, and in great peacefulness, 
 Einon and Olwen were united, and in perfect 
 happiness they lived together in the silent, gleaming 
 underworld. 
 
 Then, some time after, once again, there came
 
 EINON AND OLWEN 
 
 "They gave him gold and silver, rich jewels without number.
 
 EINON AND OLWEN. 165 
 
 that stirring wish in Einon's heart the call of home 
 came over the silence, and through the gleam; and 
 he felt he must obey the call. With great difficulty, 
 and many earnest words, he won the permission of 
 the old and merry-eyed man. He was allowed to 
 carry his fair bride with him. When all was ready 
 the merry-eyed old man led forward two white mules. 
 Indeed they were so white that in hue they were 
 more like snow that anything else, and on these lovely 
 creatures Einon and Olwen came to the old home. 
 
 Much as the people admired the grandeur of 
 Einon they were even more struck with the beauty of 
 Olwen. 
 
 " Never before was there such beauty on earth," 
 said one. 
 
 " The sun never looked down on such loveliness," 
 exclaimed another. 
 
 And every one paid tribute to her wonderful and 
 shapely form. 
 
 Time passed by and a child was born to the happy 
 pair, and they called him Taliesin. The whole 
 village, yea, indeed all the other villages round 
 about, reverenced Einon and Olwen, for their riches 
 were immense and their heritage was truly 
 marvellous. But there was one thing which cast a
 
 166 WONDER TALES. 
 
 shadow. About this time people thought that they 
 would like to know the descent of Einon's wife. 
 
 ' Whose daughter is she? " said they. " It is 
 only right that every one should have a family tree." 
 
 So they came to Einon and asked him who his 
 wife was; but Einon would not say. 
 
 " Then," quoth an old wiseacre, " she must be 
 one of the Fair Family." (Tylwyth Teg.) 
 
 " Yes, indeed," said Einon. " There is no 
 question about that. She is of a very fair family. 
 She has two sisters even more fair than she. To see 
 them together, in the open day, is to see the 
 sunshine ripple over the cornfield, and the blushing 
 blossoms of spring leap at once from the pure winter 
 snow. If you but saw them, you would say they 
 were indeed a fair family ! ' ' 
 
 So spake Einon, and from that day the wonder- 
 ful family was called " The Fair Family." 
 
 THE END.
 
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