Following the course of the river I at last emerged with it from
the pass into a valley surrounded by enormous mountains. Extending
along it from west to east, and occupying its entire southern part
lay an oblong piece of water, into which the streamlet of the pass
discharged itself. This was one of the many beautiful lakes, which
a few days before I had seen from the Wyddfa. As for the Wyddfa I
now beheld it high above me in the north-east looking very grand
indeed, shining like a silver helmet whilst catching the glories of
the setting sun.
I proceeded slowly along the road, the lake below me on my right
hand, whilst the shelvy side of Snowdon rose above me on the left.
The evening was calm and still, and no noise came upon my ear save
the sound of a cascade falling into the lake from a black mountain,
which frowned above it on the south, and cast a gloomy shadow far
over it.
This cataract was in the neighbourhood of a singular-looking rock,
projecting above the lake from the mountain's side. I wandered a
considerable way without meeting or seeing a single human being.
At last when I had nearly gained the eastern end of the valley I
saw two men seated on the side of the hill, on the verge of the
road, in the vicinity of a house which stood a little way up the
hill.
