Rain was coming down in torrents, when Oswald and Roger started the
next morning. On leaving the town they turned to the left, with the
intention of making a considerable detour; keeping well away from the
road, as it was near this that the Welsh would be most likely watching.
They chose this side because, to the right of the road, the country was
more broken, rising swell after swell towards Plinlimmon; and it was
likely that the largest portion of the Welsh would be on that side, so
that they could, at any time, retire to their fastnesses.
They were soon in the woods. The streams they met with were turbid, and
full to the brim.
"We shall have trouble with this water, Roger," Oswald said, as they
waded across one, waist deep. "This is but a little stream, but if
there are larger ones, as is like enough, we shall have to swim before
we are done. There is one advantage; in such weather as this, even the
Welsh will scarce be active."
"They have not got much clothing to wet," Roger said. "Their dress is
better suited than ours for such weather."
The way was a rough one. Hills, although of no great height, had to be
crossed, and many streams to be waded. Fortunately, they met with few
larger than that they had first crossed; for the water from that side
of the hills made its way, for the most part, direct into the Severn;
while that which came down from the slopes of Plinlimmon, towards the
road, fell into a stream; dry in fine weather, but now a raging
torrent, which ran past Llandulas and into the Severn, at Llanidloes.
"Do you think that we are going right, Roger?" Oswald said, after they
had been walking for six or seven hours; "for, what with these ups and
downs, and turnings and windings, there is no saying which is east and
which is west. If the sun were shining we should be sure of our
direction, but with these dull leaden clouds there is no saying."
"I have no idea, master. If we were out on a moor we should be able to
judge, and to make a fairly straight course, keeping the wind and rain
on one side of us; but in this thick forest, though most of the leaves
have fallen, those that remain on the branches break up the rain, and
it seems to come straight down upon us."
Presently they came to another watercourse.
"Why, Roger, the water is going in the other direction!"
"So it is, master. How can that be?"
"It is just possible that we have crossed some dividing point, and the
water is making its way towards the south, and will fall into some
other river; but I am very much afraid that the real explanation is,
that we have entirely lost our way, and are going in the opposite
direction to that in which we started. The question is, shall we cross
it or shall we follow it down?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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