Sinfi saw me look at the two breakfasts and smile.
'We've got a good way to walk before we get to the pool where we are
goin' to breakfast,' she said, 'so I thought we'd take a snack before
we start.'
As we went along I noticed that the air of Snowdon seemed to have its
usual effect on Sinfi. In taking the path that led to Knockers' Llyn
we saw before us Cwm-Dyli, the wildest of all the Snowdonian
recesses, surrounded by frowning precipices of great height and
steepness. We then walked briskly on towards our goal. When the three
peaks that she knew so well--y Wyddfa, Lliwedd, and Crib Goch--stood
out in the still grey light she stopped, set down her basket, clapped
her hands, and said, 'Didn't I tell you the mornin' was a-goin' to be
ezackly the same as then? No mists to-day. By the time we get to the
llyn the colours o' the vapours, what they calls the Knockers' flags,
will come out ezackly as they did that mornin' when you and me first
went arter Winnie.'
All the way Sinfi's eyes were fixed on the majestic forehead of y
Wyddfa and the bastions of Lliwedd which seemed to guard it as though
the Great Spirit of Snowdon himself was speaking to her and drawing
her on, and she kept murmuring 'The two dukkeripens.
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