Our fathers were not fools when they named their hills." "I daresay not," said I, "nor in many other things which they did, for which we laugh at them, because we do not know the reasons they had for doing them." We regained the road; the road tended to the north up a steep ascent.

I asked John Jones the name of a beautiful village, which lay far away on our right, over the glen, and near its top.

"Pentref y dwr, sir" (the village of the water).

It is called the village of the water, because the river below comes down through part of it.

I next asked the name of the hill up which we were going, and he told me Allt Bwlch; that is, the high place of the hollow road.
This bwlch, or hollow way, was a regular pass, which put me wonderfully in mind of the passes of Spain.