"Fisherman!" said the elderly man contemptuously, "not I. I am the
Snowdon Ranger."
"And what is that?" said I.
The elderly man tossed his head proudly, and made no reply.
"A ranger means a guide, sir," said the younger man; "my father-in-
law is generally termed the Snowdon Ranger because he is a tip-top
guide, and he has named the house after him the Snowdon Ranger. He
entertains gentlemen in it who put themselves under his guidance in
order to ascend Snowdon and to see the country."
"There is some difference in your professions," said "he deals in
heights, you in depths, both, however, are break-necky trades."
"I run more risk from gunpowder than anything else," said the
younger man. "I am a slate-miner, and am continually blasting. I
have, however, had my falls. Are you going far to-night, sir?"
"I am going to Beth Gelert," said I.
"A good six miles, sir, from here. Do you come from Caernarvon?"
"Farther than that," said I. "I come from Bangor."
"To-day, sir, and walking?"
"To-day, and walking."
"You must be rather tired, sir, you came along the valley very
slowly."
"I am not in the slightest degree tired," said I; "when I start
from here, I shall put on my best pace, and soon get to Beth
Gelert."
"Anybody can get along over level ground," said the old man,
laconically.
"Not with equal swiftness," said I. "I do assure you, friend, to
be able to move at a good swinging pace over level ground is
something not to be sneezed at. Not," said I, lifting up my voice,
"that I would for a moment compare walking on the level ground to
mountain ranging, pacing along the road to springing up crags like
a mountain goat, or assert that even Powell himself, the first of
all road walkers, was entitled to so bright a wreath of fame as the
Snowdon Ranger."
"Won't you walk in, sir?" said the elderly man.
"No, I thank you," said I, "I prefer sitting out here gazing on the
lake and the noble mountains."
"I wish you would, sir," said the elderly man, "and take a glass of
something; I will charge you nothing."
"Thank you," said I, "I am in want of nothing, and shall presently
start. Do many people ascend Snowdon from your house?"
"Not so many as I could wish," said the ranger; "people in general
prefer ascending Snowdon from that trumpery place Beth Gelert; but
those who do are fools - begging your honour's pardon. The place
to ascend Snowdon from is my house. The way from my house up
Snowdon is wonderful for the romantic scenery which it affords;
that from Beth Gelert can't be named in the same day with it for
scenery; moreover, from my house you may have the best guide in
Wales; whereas the guides of Beth Gelert - but I say nothing.
