The County Echo

Entering Into Our Own. Prehistoric Glimpses, and Idylls of Nine. Bod the savage, Bod the Iberian, had hunted, fought for and won his early meal. Surfeited, he sat by the still blood-warm prey. He contently turned his face to the sun to bathe himself in its rising, though feeble rays, while his back was turned to the great glacier where now the deep Atlantic rolls through the gorge of St. George. Bod was happy. He felt drowsy, and fell into a fitful sleep. But what was that picture that forced it- self on his brain ? He saw it rise from the southern confines of the glacier. It came towards him It must be the dragon Per- haps it was the half-bird, half-lizard lie had once fought It came nearer. The thing seemed to have no head. It must be a moun- tain From a rising cone above it a light cloud came forth. The more the cloud belched the quicker moved the mountain What ? Yes, surely, the moving mass lloated on the face of waters And yet Bod was not alarmed indeed, lie was pleased. He was much impressed with a Being who stood under the lifting white cloud. is Being was white-faced, and looked unlike any tribesman Bod had ever seen, and yet he felt drawn towards the Mist Being. Why, this new Being was actually beckoning him Yes, lie would go He felt lie would be better in every way to have the companionship of this mountain, this cloud, this new Brother. He grunted satisfaction. He made an effort in willing signal. The effort roused him to a sense of his sur- roundings—and, of his loneliness. The startled savage had also been awakened to a newer mental plane and, rubbing his eyes, he looked about for the friendly ckud and kind- ly face. He stood up to gaze. For the moment he was off his usual guard That instant a cave-tiger (the sabre-toothed feline enemy of early man), drawn by the scent of blood, sprang upon him and a fear- ful battle followed Man-beast and ferocious creature in the grip of a certain death struggle. It did not last long Bod lay on a rock panting and bleeding, with his mighty breast torn open. Near by, the quivering, convulsed body of his foe pro- claimed the efficiency of a jagged quartzite in powerful hands. Presently, the Iberian opened his eyes wild- ly and sat up. What was the strange look on his rough, bearded face ? Not from its creation had the sun witnessed such an ex- pression on the face of a being built as this one. See He is on his feet His long arms are stretched outward and upward. Once again he sees the moving mountain—the curling white cloud, and a white hand exten- ded from this new-found Brother. Again is seen on his face that expression of a strug- gling soul, and the prowling bear drops its head and retreats. A wild, glad cry rings out, echoing and re-cchoing from the Garns of enda to the shining glacier and Bod's awakening soul voyages with his welcoming Brother under a white canopy of Peace. A genial climate has set in. The Ice King has been exiled. Fertile vale and green up- land usurp rock and glacier. The blue ccean invades the lower lands.—A tali race, fair- haired and blue-eyed inhabit the Isles of the West. A typical group stands on the promontary of Dyfed, It is the evening of Midsummer Day. They have been called within the stone circle to bow in adoration to Heli, who is about to rest in Avaddu over the western porth of the monolithic temple. The men with bowed heads and the women and children with covered faces worship in the golden light. el Hoarse yells break un the sanctified scene The wild, the cruel Goidels of Hibernia. tempted by the summer weather, the calm channel, have unobserved crept under the tall cliffs, effected a landing, taken opportunity of the undefended, and massacred their cousins, the Celtic-lirython, for the loot of the bronze implements, instruments and ornaments in their stone huts. The Druid-priest is not exempted. Wouii- ded, he is brought to the edge of a crag for further inhumanities. He raises his voice and cries I curse you in the light of a dying day Your light shall grow dim. Your coracles of skin shall pass away, and vessels, like iriotiii- tains of bright metal—stronger than the bronze you rob of us shall visit us. Yes! Mountains of Peace and Brotherly Love shall pass your shores to carry from afar Plenty to this dear land of ours He uttered his last words as they hurled him to the depths below -a--

Seven Hundred and Ninety- nine- A wild, northerly storm had raged increas- ingly for two nights and a day and, veering somewhat to the west, eased its violence. Towards noon of the next day, two vessels of the Viking build were observed toiling to reach the bay of Fis Garth The sails served to make these war-ships roll the more, but it was evident the rowers, worn out with constant work, were glad to tack into the friendly roadstead, even though shipping much foam-crested water. Once inside the roads, they hugged the high, west cliff and drifted to the sandy shore. The storm-tossed sailors dropped into the shallow water and, falling on the rounded white pebbles, fell into restful sleep. Some, waking before the others, gazed around to find the westering sun gilding the eastern cliffs, and brightening the highland verdure in the background. Z, This was a delightful resting place to the sailor-warrior, and his Norse language couftl not better fit an expression to show his ap- preciation of the shelter and rest afforded than "Gude Wych." The Viking ships plough the seas no more. Gone is the sea-rover, but he left his grateful impression in a name that lasts and is as true to-day as at the christening—a white place, good for shelter, for rest o

Seventeen Hundred and Ninety nine. And did you really see the French before they came ?" es," said Nancy Owen. I saw them in the clear moonlight. I was il)g to Tre- liowell, and I saw the ships, and several boats going from them to the -Garreg Wastad, Traeth Bach. I saw them marching to the Garn. I saw them going down the hill to Goodwick, for I followed them at.a distance, for 1 thought they were real." Did you "ee them after that night ?'*