"Ty powdr," said he, "a powder house," by which I supposed he meant a magazine of powder used for blasting in the mines. He had not a word of English. . If the young girls were nimble with their feet, they were not less so with their tongues, as they kept up an incessant gabble with each other and with the guide. I understood little of what they said, their volubility preventing me from catching more than a few words. After we had gone about two miles and a half, they darted away with surprising swiftness down a hill towards a distant house, where, as I learned from my guide, the father of the eldest lived. We ascended a hill, passed between two craggy elevations, and then wended to the south-east over a strange, miry place, in which I thought any one at night not acquainted with every inch of the way would run imminent risk of perishing. I entered into conversation with my guide. After a little time he asked me if I was a Welshman. I told him no.
"You could teach many a Welshman," said he.
"Why do you think so?" said I.
"Because many of your words are quite above my comprehension," said he.
"No great compliment," thought I to myself; but putting a good face upon the matter I told him that I knew a great many old Welsh words.
"Is Potosi an old Welsh word?" said he.
"No," said I; "it is the name of a mine in the Deheubarth of America.""Is it a lead mine?"
"No!" said I, "it is a silver mine."
"Then why do they call our mine, which is a lead mine, by the name of a silver mine?""Because they wish to give people to understand," said I, "that it is very rich - as rich in lead as Potosi in silver. Potosi is, or was, the richest silver mine in the world, and from it has come at least one half of the silver which we use in the shape of money and other things.""Well," said he, "I have frequently asked, but could never learn before why our mine was called Potosi.""You did not ask at the right quarter," said I; "the young man with the glazed hat could have told you as well as I." I inquired why the place where the mine was bore the name of Esgyrn Hirion or Long Bones. He told me that he did not know, but believed that the bones of a cawr or giant had been found there in ancient times. Iasked him if the mine was deep.
"Very deep," he replied.
"Do you like the life of a miner?" said I.
"Very much," said he, "and should like it more, but for the noises of the hill.""Do you mean the powder blasts?" said I.
"Oh no!" said he, "I care nothing for them; I mean the noises made by the spirits of the hill in the mine. Sometimes they make such noises as frighten the poor fellow who works underground out of his senses. Once on a time I was working by myself very deep underground, in a little chamber to which a very deep shaft led. Ihad just taken up my light to survey my work, when all of a sudden I heard a dreadful rushing noise, as if an immense quantity of earth had come tumbling down. 'Oh God!' said I, and fell backwards, letting the light fall, which instantly went out. Ithought the whole shaft had given way, and that I was buried alive.
