And, you have thrice struck
me! Farewell!"
Fleeing like a deer home to their farm, she called together, by its
name, each and every one of their animals, from stable and field; yes,
even those harnessed to the plow. Then, over the mountain all moved in
procession to the lake.
There, they plunged in and vanished. No trace of them was left, except
that made by the oxen drawing the plow, and which mark on the ground
men still point out.
Broken hearted and mad with grief, Gwyn rushed into the lake and was
seen no more. The three sons, grieving over their drowned father,
spent their many days wandering along the lakeside, hoping once more
to see one, or both, of their dear parents.
Their love was rewarded. They never saw their father again, but one
day their mother, Nelferch, suddenly appeared out of the water.
Telling her children that her mission on earth was to relieve pain and
misery, she took them to a point in the lake, where many plants grew
that were useful in medicine. There, she often came and taught them
the virtues of the roots, leaves, juices and the various virtues of
the herbs, and how to nurse the sick and heal those who had diseases.
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