from it we see the high moorlands of central Wales, sloping to
Cardigan Bay on the west and to the valley of the Severn, now a
lordly English river, on the east.

Forty miles south the Black Mountain (2,630 feet) rises beyond the
Wye, and the Brecon Beacons (2,910 feet) beyond the Usk. West of
these the hills fade away into the broad peninsula of Dyved.
Southwards we look over hills of coal and iron to the pleasant sea-
fringed plain of Gwent.

On the north and the west the sea is shallow; in some places it is
under 10 fathoms for 10 miles from the shore, and under 20 fathoms
for 20 miles. Tales of drowned lands are told--of the sands of
Lavan, of the feast of drunken Seithenyn, and of the bells of
Aberdovey. But the sea is a kind neighbour. Its soft, warm winds
bathe the hills with life; and the great sweep of the big Atlantic
waves into the river mouths help our commerce. Holyhead, Milford
Haven, Swansea, Newport, Barry, and Cardiff--now one of the chief
ports of the world--can welcome the largest vessels afloat. The
herring is plentiful on the west coast, and trout and salmon in the
rivers.



CHAPTER II--THE WANDERING NATIONS



By land and by sea, race after race has come to make the hills of
Wales its home. One race would be short, with dark eyes and black