There was no railway in those
days, and as the coach had gone he decided to walk. The most direct way,
he calculated, was to cross Snowdon mountain, and without asking any
advice or mentioning the matter to any one he began his walk over a
mountain which is nearly 3,600 feet high. It was two o'clock in the
afternoon when he left the hotel at Llanberis, and from the time he
passed a stone inscribed "3-3/4 miles to the top of Snowdon" he did not
see a single human being. It was the 23rd of November, and the top of
the mountain, which was clearly visible, was covered with snow.
All went well with him until he passed a black-looking lake and had
reached the top of its rocky and precipitous boundary, when with
scarcely any warning he suddenly became enveloped in the clouds and
could only see a yard or two before him. He dared not turn back for fear
he should fall down the precipice into the lake below, so he continued
his walk and presently reached the snow. This, fortunately, was frozen,
and he went on until he came to a small cabin probably used by the guide
in summertime, but the door was locked, the padlock resting upon the
snow; soon afterwards he arrived at the cairn which marked the summit of
Snowdon.
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