hat formed the spur of Cwm Dinas, and
scaling the rocky little precipice of Maenceirion. Some who had started
at a great rate and with much enthusiasm began to slacken speed, and to
realize the wisdom of Miss Teddington's advice and try the slow-going,
steady pace she had learned from Swiss guides.

"You can't keep it up if you begin with such a spurt," she assured them.
"Alpine climbing has to be like the tortoise--slow and sure."

Once on the plateau beyond Cwm Dinas progress was easier. It was still
uphill, but the slope was gentler. They were on the open moors now,
following a path, little more than a sheep track, that led under the
crag of Glyder Garmon. Except for an occasional tiny whitewashed farm
they were far from human habitations, and the only signs of life were
the small agile Welsh sheep, the half-wild ponies that grazed on these
uplands during the summer months, and a pair of carrion crows that
wheeled away, croaking hoarsely at the sight of intruders. On and on
over what seemed an interminable reach of coarse grass and
whinberry-bushes, jumping tiny brooks, and skirting round sometimes to
avoid bogs, for much of the ground was spongy, and though its surface of
sphagnum moss looked inviting, it was treacherous in the extreme. At
last they had rounded the corner of Glyder Garmon, and there, far away
to the right, like a sheet of silver, Llyn Gwynedd lay gleaming in the
distance.

The sight of their destination, even though it was two miles away,
cheered up those weaker spirits that were beginning to lag, especially
as something white on the south side, when examined through Miss
Teddington's field-glasses, proved to be the tents. Three-quarters of an
hour's brisk walking brought them to the lake, and in ten minutes more
they were announcing their approach to the camp in a succession of wild
hoorays.

Mr. and Mrs. Arnold were waiting to do the honours, and, parading in
their very best style, the League marched in and took possession.

By the time they had been two hours at Llyn Gwynedd all the girls felt
like old, well-seasoned campers. Mrs. Arnold was no novice, and at once
assumed her post as leader and captain in command. Miss Bowes, Miss
Teddington, and the other teachers were assigned tents of honour, and
every member of the League was placed on definite duty. Some were cooks,
some water-carriers, some scullions, and some sentries, according to
their qualifications and the rank they held in the Le