When we passed the little road on the left leading to the Orphanage of Notre Dame du Rocher, the lilac-scent was very strong; and the position of the various buildings in connection with the institution seemed so attractive that we determined to take a stroll there later on. Pursuing our way, with the restored ruin of the Castelvieil above us on its "monticule" overlooking the Orphanage, we were soon in a narrower part of the valley, with the wooded slopes on either side. Then we crossed the river to the left bank, which we followed until reaching the point where the road to the Hospice and the Port de Venasque led to the left, and ours crossed the river by a neat bridge (the Pont de Ravi) to the right bank again. A little beyond this, the route for Superbagnères —which we hoped to take another day—struck off among the trees on the right of the road, which in turn gradually bent in the same direction all up the beautiful Lys valley, till it again curved in the opposite direction and arrived at the base of the Cascades, where there is a fair inn (Auberge du Lys).[Footnote: Only in summer.] From thence the road forks, but the track to the left is the better of the two, at any rate if on foot, and by it—after fifteen minutes' labour—the foot of the Cascade d'Enfer is reached; and the Pont d'Arrougé in another quarter of an hour. A similar length of time is still necessary to reach a small tower whence a good view of the Gouffre d'Enfer and the Pont de Nadie, above it, can be enjoyed. This tower is about a mile distant from the foot of the lowest fall. The other cascade (the Cascade du Coeur) is not a very difficult twenty minutes' walk by a path that leads through the trees to Lac Vert, and as there is a capital inn there (later in the season), we think that this would be a good spot for lunch. Even as it was, we managed to enjoy ours pretty well, for fresh air and sunshine are good appetisers, and the ride had added its effect besides. The return ride in the afternoon, when the sun was commencing to decline a little, was very pleasant, and the snow-covered Port de Venasque, so beautiful in its whiteness, and yet for the same reason quite inaccessible, looked very lovely when tinged with the crimson hue that the setting sun shot o'er it, as we arrived in Luchon again.
[Illustration: THE RUE D'ENFER AND CASCADES.]
The following morning broke beautifully fine, and Luis Sanson was at the door punctually at seven, with the horses for our trip up to Superbagnères.
The saddle-bags were again filled, and away we went, the horses—still so fresh—being eager for a canter in the fresh morning air. In summer the ascent is usually made by St. Aventin and the Granges de Gouron, in which case the road towards the Col de Peyresourde is followed as far as St. Aventin, and thence a way leading to the left; but we were too early for that route, as an avalanche had only lately fallen, so were obliged to go and return by the route used in the season for the return only, viz., by the "Pont de Ravi" up the Vallée de la Pique. Having reached the bridge and taken the path indicated by the sign-board on the right, we were soon among the trees, which lent a very welcome shade from the increasing heat, which even at this early hour (7.40 A.M.) the glorious Sol was not ashamed to diffuse.
At every fresh turn the strokes of the axe rang through the wood, mingled with the sound of voices, and after making considerable progress—during which our guide narrated incidents in his career as hunter, guide, and jockey—we arrived in view of a very lively scene. Workmen busy with the hatchet, the saw, and the plane, in the foreground; others in the rear occupied with mortar and stones, building a small but substantial house; a cart with oxen lazily waiting, like Mr. Micawber, for "something to turn up"; a few superior individuals in deep consultation, and the irrepressible sun struggling through the beeches and pines to have "his finger in the pie"—such was the scene we saw, but soon left behind. After this the good broad carriage-road soon came to an end, and the easy gradient changed to a steep path among a grove of nothing but beeches, which emerged later on the slope of a somewhat bare and stony hill dotted with a few gentians. The view improved with nearly every step, growing magnificently vast; and when at length we reached the summit, or rather a mound a few feet lower, but equally good as a point of sight (for the summit was covered with snow), we gazed on as grand an expanse of mountains and tree-clothed valleys as imagination could picture in the most lofty of its lofty flights.
[Illustration: ON THE ROAD TO SUPERBAGNÈRES.]
Probably but few people will be disposed to deny that, considering the comparatively small amount of labour necessary to attain the summit, it is more than amply compensated for; and, when the height of Superbagnères—which is only 5,900 ft.—is taken into account, such a grand sight is almost unique. For over two-thirds of a circle the chain of peaks continues, extending from the Céciré of Superbagnères to the Céciré [Footnote 1: We have only the guide's authority for this name here.] above Bosost, and even beyond. Beginning with the nearest, the Céciré (8,025 ft.) of Superbagnères, then come the Pêne de Montarqué (9685 ft.), and the cone-shaped Quairat (10,037 ft.), followed by the huge glacier of Crabioules, which, in spite of its eternal snow, supplies the various cascades in the Rue d'Enfer that flow into the Lys valley. Above rise up the Pic de Crabioules (10,233 ft), the Pic de Bourn (9,875 ft), and the peculiar Tuc de Maupas (10,204 ft.); after which the Trous d'Enfer and the Pic de Sacroux (8,786 ft) appear. The next of the near peaks is the Pic de Sauvegarde (9,145 ft), but between the Sacroux and this, calm and clear, the highest peaks of the range, the Milieu, the Maladetta, and the Nethou, with the dead white glacier below them, rise in view. After the Sauvegarde, the Pic de la Mine (9,048 ft.), the Port de Venasque (7,930 ft.), and the very pointed Pic de la Pique (7,854 ft.) appear, followed by the Pas de l'Escalette (7,877 ft.) and the Port de la Picade (8,219 ft.), towards which group the Vallée de l'Hospice leads.
To the left of the Picade, the cone of the lofty "Posets" may be seen in the distance, while more to the left, and more distant too, the Peña Blanca (9222 ft.) is also visible. Further round, over the wooded "cols" that guard the "Pique" valley, the Mont Ségu [Footnote: We have only the guide's authority for the name.] and Céciré near Bosost, and the Pyrénées Orientales beyond, finished the magnificent chain. From another situation we could look down on Luchon and from this point were endeavouring to reach the little hut, where fodder and a few provisions can be found in the season, when an ancient shepherd bawled out in patois that the place was as yet tenantless, for which we felt thankful to that peasant, as it saved us a long tramp through rather deep snow, though for that same reason we were unable to reward his forethought as it deserved. Leaving him to pursue his guileless way, we descended into the beech grove for our lunch, and finding grateful shade at the foot of a fine fir, we opened the saddle-bags and proceeded to regale ourselves, finding some snow that we brought from the top very useful to cool the rather heated claret. After nature was satisfied we quickly descended past the previously busy scene, and when near the high road again came in view of some woodmen loading a cart with logs. To do this the logs had to be brought to an eminence above the cart, and bullocks were employed to drag up the wood. The men were treating them most cruelly, and once or twice they lowed so piteously, that we have translated it into
"THE OXEN'S APPEAL."
Working and toiling the whole of the day,
Working and toiling without any pay,
Only perchance a few mouthfuls of hay,
From earliest dawn till late.
Held by the horns 'neath this cumbersome yoke,
Firmer fixed thus than a "pig in a poke,"
Feeling the "prong" and the lengthy stick's stroke,
Ours, alas, is a terrible fate.