When we thought we had really taken in all that we could, we did not stay on our lofty perch much longer, fearing the result of our guide's geological researches; however, we found him still fairly well, and very little less lazy, so took him for a little jolting down a rather "fast" bit, which not only woke him up, but brought us quickly down to our shepherd's hut again. Partly riding and partly walking, the rest of the descent was successfully accomplished, including the gathering of gentians, bee orchids, mountain violets, and both Polygalae; [Footnote: Polygala rosea and P. amara.] while Mr. Sydney triumphed in the very laudable effort of showing the lazy guide how things could be managed, by arriving at the foot of the mountain some twenty minutes before him. A very short trot brought us to the hotel in time for some half-past five tea, having taken seven and a half hours over our trip, including the hour spent for lunch.
Between the Hôtel de France and the Pont Napoléon a narrow path strikes up to the right, almost opposite a large white house a short distance beyond the church; this we found a very pleasant quarter of an hour's walk, leading by an easy gradient to a good point of view. Box plants, with their bright leaves here and there changing into a rich red, lined the way, and many flowers, including gentians, added their charm. From the rock at which we terminated our walks, a fine view of the Pic de Bergons, two cascades, the gorge towards Gavarnie and St. Sauveur, the Pont Napoléon, and a small defile on the immediate right, was our reward.
Another pleasant promenade and not a very long one, which we much enjoyed, was to the villages of Sazos and Grust, in the direction of the ascent of the Col de Riou and the Pic de Viscos. We followed the high road down through the town, passing in turn the Roman-like and commodious baths, the path leading to the Hontalade establishment on the left, and the Pharmacie Claverie on the right; and just before the branch route from Luz joins in, took the left track up the side of the hill. Pretty views of the different valleys unfolded to our gaze as we continued on our way, while a splendid vista of villages lay before us when we reached the platform space on which an iron cross is erected, a short way below Sazos. The village itself, as well as that of Grust, which lies within easy distance above it, is a quaint, old-fashioned place. The church is the chief attraction; in fact, immediately Miss Blunt found herself within the ancient exterior portal, she demanded paper and pencil, and although all the paper forthcoming was the back of an envelope and a telegraph form, managed to turn out an efficient representation of the old Roman fane. In exploring it afterwards at our leisure, we were struck by several peculiarities which produced mingled feelings. Inside the doorway, two curious flights of steps lead to the narrow galleries and the belfry, the final flight being totally devoid of either "sweetness" or light. Having examined the bells and heard the clock strike three, we began the descent. In the darkness we certainly did clutch a vertical rope, but could that simple act—we ask in a whisper—have had such an unusual effect as causing the clock to repeat its striking? For, whether or not, before we reached the ground, the three strokes rang out again. The carving over the altar is good, and the general effect of the whole church is likewise; but the supposed model of the grotto at Lourdes, and the awful painting in the side altar on the left, certainly do not add to its beauty.
The children regarded us with inquisitive looks as we came away, but seemed to wish to keep at a safe distance. Whether the double striking of the clock had had a peculiar effect on them we did not, however, wait to inquire, but after taking a drink at the fountain, proceeded on our homeward way.
Any one making a lengthened stay can find out plenty of similarly enjoyable walks; in fact, one of St. Sauveur's chief charms lies in its favourable situation for such pursuits. The neighbourhood is very rich in flora, small jonquils, daffodils, oxslips, hyacinths, violets, polygala, potentilla, anemones, Ramondia pyrenaïca, Primula farinosa, large and small gentians, linaria, and bee orchids being among the easiest to find.
Before we started on the great drive to Luchon, we successfully accomplished a delightful day's outing to Gavarnie, but as it is full of interest and majesty, we give it a chapter to itself.
CHAPTER VIII.
GAVARNIE.
A "falling glass"—The wonderful echo—Cascade Lassariou—Sia and its bridge—Pont de Desdouroucat—"Changing scenes"—Bugaret torrent—The Piméné—Bué—Gèdre—Brêche de Roland in the distance—The "Grotto"—Scenery at fivepence per head—Daffodils—Lofty summits—Cascade d'Arroudet—Chaos—Valley of the "Ten Thousand Rocks," Amoy—A dirty avalanche—The Sugar-loaf—Travellers' troubles —Importunate females—Hôtel des Voyageurs—Poc—Guide or no guide—Chute de Lapaca—The guardian summits of the Cirque—Cascade du Marboré—Chandelles du Marboré—The Cirque—Its marvellous beauty—Reluctantly returning—"The Guide's Auction"—"Two women enough for a market, and three for a fair"—A Yankee tale—Sketching and flowers—Tempers and appetites.
There is no excursion from Luz or St. Sauveur for which it is so necessary to have a fine day, or which is so wonderfully unique, as that to the Cirque of Gavarnie. We were forced to wait several days; the barometer always, stupidly enough, wanting to fall, until on the third day of the moon it slowly began to rise, and gave us hopes for a start on the following morning. The following morning arrived, and with it a heavy fall of snow, decking the hills quite low down with a white mantle, and gloomily screening the view.