The bleating of the sheep, as they wander over a large expanse of barren mountain land, is dismal indeed, and well might become ominous of storms and disasters. The big fat sheep, which are penned in the lowlands of England, with a tinkling bell strapped to the neck of the king of the flock, convey a notion of peace and plenty to the mind of the spectator, that the shy active mountain sheep, with their angry grunt and stamping of their feet never convey. Still, these latter are endowed with an instinct which the English mutton-producer does not exercise. Welsh sheep become infallible prognosticators of a change of weather; for, by a never failing instinct, they leave the high and bare mountain ridges for sheltered nooks, and crowd together when they detect the approach of a storm. Man does not observe atmospheric changes as quickly as sheep do, and as sheep evidently possess one instinct which is strongly developed and exercised, it is not unreasonable to suppose that man in a low state of civilisation might credit animals with possessing powers which, if observed, indicate or foretell other events beside storms.

Thus the lowly piping of the solitary curlew, the saucy burr of the grouse, the screech of the owl, the croaking of the raven, the flight of the magpie, the slowly flying heron, the noisy c.o.c.k, the hungry seagull, the shrill note of the woodp.e.c.k.e.r, the sportive duck, all become omens.

Bird omens have descended to us from remote antiquity. Rome is credited with having received its pseudo-science of omens from Etruria, but whence came it there? This semi-religious faith, like a river that has its source in a far distant, unexplored mountain region, and meanders through many countries, and does not exclusively belong to any one of the lands through which it wanders; so neither does it seem that these credulities belong to any one people or age; and it is difficult, if not impossible, to trace to their origin, omens, divination, magic, witchcraft, and other such cognate matters, which seem to belong to man's nature.

Readers of Livy remember how Romulus and Remus had recourse to bird omens to determine which of the brothers should build Rome. Remus saw six vultures, and Romulus twelve; therefore, as his number was the greater, to him fell the honour of building the famous city.

But this was not the only bird test known to the Romans. Before a battle those people consulted their game fowl to ascertain whether or not victory was about to attend their arms. If the birds picked up briskly the food thrown to them victory was theirs, if they did so sluggishly the omen was unpropitious, and consequently the battle was delayed.

Plutarch, in his "Life of Alexander," gives us many proofs of that great general's credulity. The historian says:--"Upon his (Alexander's) approach to the walls (of Babylon) he saw a great number of crows fighting, some of which fell down dead at his feet." This was a bad sign. But I will not pursue the subject. Enough has been said to prove how common omens were. I will now confine my remarks to Wales.

_Birds singing before February_.

Should the feathered songsters sing before February it is a sign of hard, ungenial weather. This applies particularly to the blackbird and throstle. The following lines embody this faith:--

Os can yr adar cyn Chwefror, hwy griant cyn Mai.

If birds sing before February, they will cry before May.

Thus their early singing prognosticates a prolonged winter.--_Bye-Gones_, vol. i., p. 88.

_Birds flocking in early Autumn_.

When birds gather themselves together and form flocks in the early days of autumn, it is thought to foretell an early and severe winter.

On the other hand, should they separate in early spring, and again congregate in flocks, this shews that hard weather is to be expected, and that winter will rest on the lap of May.

_Birds' Feathers_.

Feather beds should be made of domestic birds' feathers, such as geese, ducks, and fowls. Wild fowl feathers should not be mixed with these feathers; for, otherwise, the sick will die hard, and thus the agony of their last moments will be prolonged.

_The c.o.c.k_.

Caesar, Bk. v., c.12, tells us that the Celtic nation did not regard it lawful to eat the c.o.c.k.

It was thought that the devil a.s.sumed occasionally the form of a c.o.c.k.

It is said that at Llanfor, near Bala, the evil spirit was driven out of the church in the form of a c.o.c.k, and laid in the river Dee.

Formerly the c.o.c.k was offered to the water G.o.d. And at certain Holy Wells in Wales, such as that in the parish of Llandegla, it was customary to offer to St. Tecla a c.o.c.k for a male patient, and a hen for a female.

A like custom prevailed at St. Deifer's Well, Bodfari. Cla.s.sical readers may remember that Socrates, before his death, desired his friend Crito to offer a c.o.c.k to AEsculapius. "Crito," said he, and these were his last words, "we owe a c.o.c.k to AEsculapius, discharge that debt for me, and pray do not forget it;" soon after which he breathed his last.

In our days, the above-mentioned superst.i.tions do not prevail, but the c.o.c.k has not been resigned entirely to the cook. By some means or other, it still retains the power of announcing the visit of a friend; at least, so says the mountain farmer's wife.

The good-wife in North Wales, when the c.o.c.k comes to the door-sill and there crows many times in succession, tells her children that "Some one is coming to visit us, I wonder who it is." Before nightfall a friend drops in, and he is informed that he was expected, that the c.o.c.k had crowed time after time by the door, and that it was no good sending him away, for he would come back and crow and crow, "and now," adds she, "you have come." "Is it not strange," says the good woman, "that he never makes a mistake," and then follows a word of praise for chanticleer, which the stranger endorses.

However much the hospitable liked to hear their c.o.c.k crow in the day time, he was not to crow at night. But it was formerly believed that at the crowing of the c.o.c.k, fairies, spirits, ghosts, and goblins rushed to their dread abodes. Puck was to meet the Fairy King, "ere the first c.o.c.k crow."

_c.o.c.k-fighting_.

c.o.c.k-fighting was once common in Wales, and it was said that the most successful c.o.c.k-fighters fought the bird that resembled the colour of the day when the conflict took place; thus, the blue game-c.o.c.k was brought out on cloudy days, black when the atmosphere was inky in colour, black-red on sunny days, and so on.

Charms for c.o.c.ks have already been mentioned (p. 267). These differed in different places. In Llansantffraid, Montgomeryshire, a crumb from the communion table, taken therefrom at midnight following the administration of the Holy Communion, was an infallible charm. This was placed in the socket of the steel spur, which was then adjusted to the natural spur.--_Bye-Gones_, vol. i., p. 88.

_The Goose_.

Should a goose lay a soft egg, a small egg, or two eggs in a day, it is a sign of misfortune to the owner of that goose.

An old woman in Llandrinio parish, Montgomeryshire, who lived in a cottage by the side of the Severn, and who possessed a breed of geese that laid eggs and hatched twice a year, when I asked her the time that geese should begin to lay, said:--

Before St. Valentine's Day Every good goose will lay.

and she added:--

By St. Chad, Every good goose, and bad.

St. Chad's Day is March the 2nd.

Mr. Samuel Williams, Fron, Selattyn, gave me the following version of the above ditty:--

On Candlemas Day, Every good goose begins to lay.

Another rendering is:--

Every good goose ought to lay On Candlemas Day.

Candlemas Day is February 2nd.

Geese should sit so as to hatch their young when the moon waxes and not when it wanes, for, otherwise, the goslings would not thrive. The lucky one in the family should place the eggs for hatching under the goose or hen.

For the following paragraph I am indebted to "Ffraid," a writer in _Bye-Gones_, vol. i., p. 88:--