view over the whole of the
Conway valley. As it was rather a long walk from Craigwen, she thought
they might borrow a donkey and take it in turns to ride, and also
carry their lunch on its back. They could no doubt buy milk, and get
hot water at a farm, so that they would be able to make tea before
they returned, and thus enjoy a whole day on the moors. Mrs. Marshall
willingly gave her consent. Her children were fond of picnics, and
steady enough to look after themselves without any grown-up person
being with them; she had always encouraged the boys at any rate to be
self-reliant, and though Artie was apt to fall occasionally into
mischief, she knew Oswald would take care of the little girls and
bring them home safely in the evening.

Sylvia looked forward so much to the expedition that she could
scarcely sleep for excitement when she got into the large spare bed
with Linda and the candle was blown out. She lay awake for quite a
long time, listening to an owl hooting in the trees, and the soft
rippling sound of a stream which flowed at the bottom of the garden;
then at last they both merged into a confused dream, and she
remembered nothing more till she woke with the sun pouring in through
the window, and Linda's voice proclaiming that it was a particularly
fine, warm morning, and the very day in all the year which she would
have chosen to scale the heights of Pen y Gaer.

Directly breakfast was over, the children started off first to a
neighbouring farm to borrow the donkey, a shaggy little creature
called Teddie, which was chiefly used by his owner to fetch sacks of
flour from the mill. He was not accustomed to either saddle or bridle,
but the boys led him home by a halter, and tied a cushion on to his
back with a piece of rope. They slung their lunch baskets and two
enamelled tin mugs on either side, like saddle-bags, then, giving
Sylvia the first ride, they helped her to mount, and set off towards
the mountains with Scamp and Bute racing in wild excitement around
them.

It was a very hot day, so it was pleasant to think that they would
soon be out of the close woods, and away on the breezy moors. The
country was at its best; the fields were blue with wild hyacinths, and
the hedgerows yellow with gorse and broom, while everywhere the tender
shoots of the young bracken were unfolding, and showing delicate
golden-green fronds. It was a little late for birds'-nesting, yet
Oswald and Artie, boylike, could not resist