aran, i.e. chief of thunder. (See _Myth. Ant. Druids_, p. 418.)

This Prince of Darkness is supposed to be the spouse of Andraste, now
corrupted into Andras, and equivalent with _Malt y nos_, the Diana or
Hecate of the ancient Britons.

These dogs sometimes appear singly, on which occasions they sit by the
side of a stream, howling in so unearthly a manner, that the hapless man
who finds one in his path usually loses his senses. This seems to have a
connection with the "Manthe Doog" of the Isle of Man; but the tradition
is not, we suspect, genuine.

Seleucus.

No. 2. _Cyoeraeth or Gwrach-y-rhybin._--Another instance of the grand,
though gloomy superstitions of the Cymry, is that of the _Cyoeraeth_, or
hag of the mist, an awful being who is supposed to reside in the
mountain fog, through which her supernatural shriek is frequently heard.
She is believed to be the very personification of ugliness, with torn
and dishevelled hair, long black teeth, lank and withered arms and
claws, and a most cadaverous appearance; to this some add, wings of a
leathery and bat-like substance.

The name _Cy-oer-aeth_, the last two syllables of which signify
_cold-grief_, is most descriptive of the sad wail which she utters, and
which will, it is said, literally freeze the veins of those who hear it;
she is _rarely_ seen, but is heard at a cross-road, or beside a
stream--in the latter case she splashes the water with her
hands--uttering her lamentation, as if in allusion to the relatives of
those about to die. Thus, if a man hears her cry _fy nqwsaig, fy
nqwsaig_, &c., his wife will surely die, and he will be heard to mourn
in the same strain ere long; and so on with other cases. The cadence of
this cry can never be properly caught by any one who has not heard, if
not a Cyoeraeth, at least a native of Wales, repeat the strain. When
merely an inarticulate scream is heard, it is probable that the hearer
himself is the one whose death is fore-mourned.

Sometimes she is supposed to come like the Irish _banshee_, in a dark
mist, to the windows of those who have been long ill; when flapping her
wings against the pane, she repeats their names with the same prolonged
emphasis; and then it is thought that they must die.

It is this hag who forms the torrent beds which seam the mountain side;
for she gathers great stones in her cloak to make her ballast, when she
flies upon the storm; and when about to retire to her mountain cave, she
lets th