Yorkville enquirer. [volume] (Yorkville, S.C.) 1855-2006, 1874-08-27


four o'clock, after a long tramp over the
mountains. Abermaw, as its name implies,
is situated at the mouth Of the river Nav,
which here forms an estuary about mile
broad. The town itself faces the open sea !;
the harbor lies about half a mile up the estu-
ary whilst between the town and the bridge
was the outline of huge bridge, then in
course of construction. Abermaw is little
bit Of place, consisting of a hotel, few
shops, a church, cha pei of ease, and half
dozen lodging houses, which are built on
platform Of sand, the work Of the sea and
river in concert or in conflict. The old fish
ing village is perched upon the rocks above,
tier upon tier, the Intel stone of one house
looking down the chimney of the house below,
and is reached by rude rocky steps, where the
children of the village swarm up and down,
and yet rarely contrive to break their necks
The farther shore Of the estuary was a trl-
angular spit ofsand, across which was track
that Joined the high road at point where it
commenced to mount the shoulder of a wave
beaten cliff on the fence of which it was ter
raced; for on the farther or southern side OF
the estuary the sea washed up to the very
base of the rocks that formed the rugged
fringe of this iron bound coast. There was
ferry from the Abermaw side to the spit OF
sand, and thence, by detour of several miles,
you could make your way along the southern
bank of the river to the town Of Dolbadarn.
As the crow flies, Dolbadarn was not more
than seven miles distant from Abermaw, but
it could not be reached by any practicable
track in less than from ten to eleven miles
for the river took wide sweep to the north,
and, in addition to the detour thus caused, the
first bridge where the road crossed the river
was at point good way wide of Dolbadarn,
so that, altogether, the distance was length
ened to that above mentioned. On the other
hand, if you crossed the fiery, and made your
way across the sand to the highway, the dis
tance was much the same, and this latter
route was Of course only practicable to foot
passengers.
Although 1 had reached Abermaw in the
guise of free and independent pedestrian,
yet my liberty was of restricted nature.
NV wife and children had gone by the regu.
lar coach route to Dolbadarn, and | had
crossed the mountains by wild foot-track,
promising to join them that night at Dolba-
darn, in time for dinner for l had intended
to take the coach at Abermaw, which would
have brought me to the end of my journey in
good time This coach, however, | had
missed just five minutes. My walk that day
had been long one and was rather tagged,
and should probably have hired a conveyance
for the remainder of the distance; but the
manner of the landlord of the hotel was so
abrupt, and, as l thought, offensive, in an
swer to my inquiries, that | resolved, come
what might, he should not be a sxpence
richer for me.
walked on till I came to little public
house at the farther end of the town, close to
the rough quarry that bordered the estuary
and turned in there for glass of beer and
crust of bread and cheese, as well as for the
purpose of making a few inquiries as to my
route.
"Well, indeed" said Evan Rowlands, the
landlord, "there's no possible way to get to
Dolbadarn, tonight, not unless you take a
car from Mr.. Jones's."
81 shan't have car from Mr.. JONES'" l
said. "Can hire Que anywhere else?"
Evan shook his head; there was no horse
or car in Abermaw except the horses and
cars owned by Mr. Jones.
"Very WE'LL then," said, [ would walk.
"Not possible" said Evans; "it's more than
ten miles"
II wouldn't mind the distance, only I've
walked FIVE and twenty miles already"
"Dear me said Evans YOU'RE very strong"
"Can't get boat part of the way" l
suggested.
Evan put his head out at the door. "No!"
he cried 'the tide has just turned ; it is run
ming down very strong"
''Then there is nothing for it but walking"
said 81 must 60 round by Lanfair Bridge.
But didn't like the idea of this ten miles
walk through the mist and gathering gloom.
'Stopw said Evan. why shouldn't you
20 over the bridge-the railroad bridge?"
"Is the bridge passable, then? Can get
across"
90 dear, yes The gentlemen from the
railway come over very often and, to-day,
Hugh Pugh and David Morris did come over
from the Dolbrith quarry
"And what distance will that save mc?'
"Four or FIVE miles yes, sure!"
"And the bridge is quite safe?'
"Oh it is very strong and safe, indeed or
how should Hug gh Pugh and David Morris
come over, and the railway gentlemen, too !;
yes, sure"
"And the railway people won't object to my
going over?"
They've all knocked off for the day, and
there won't be soul near the bridge but
yourself"
"Then of course I'll 60 over it."
But found that there were certain diff
culties in the way. The railway bridge cross
ed the estuary at point about quarter Of
mile from the little inn that formed the ex-
tremity Of the town, at spot where its chan
mel was narrowed to distance Of about three
quarters of mile. The unfinished bridge
was constructed of piles firmly driven into
the bed of the river, from which rose huge
piers of timber to the height Of about forty
feet. Along these were massive balks, des-
tined to support the platform of the bridge,
whilst each pier was strengthened and sup
ported its neighbor, by arrangement of cross
beams and ties.
When reached the bank of the river with
my guide, Evan Rowlands, found that there
was considerable hiatus between the shore
and the nearest pier-about hundred yards.
Evan, however, was prepared with plan for
reaching it. A friend of his was the master
of the little sloop, the Ann Jores, which was
lying in the tiny brook above He and his
mote was now on board her, and they had got
their little dingy with them. Evan would
borrow the boat, and drop down with the
stream, and deposit me at the foot Of the
nearest pier.
"But why not ferry me right over the riv-
err" asked.
"Not possible" said Evan There were
shadows and Qucksands at the other side,