At Tallano we had nothing of this sort. Discomfort, and even dirt there might be; but it was dirt of the bearable kind, unconnected with entomology.
But no doubt the accommodation differs. An English lady, met since our return, informed me that she and her party spent several days in the forest, in one of the forestier's houses, for lodging in which, permission must be obtained from the authorities at Ajaccio; and that, although destitute of all comforts and almost of furniture, the house was not in any way obnoxious from dirt.
CHAPTER III.
SARTENE.
The route to Sartene from Tallano descends for some distance on the Propriano route, and is not particularly interesting.
After passing the queer old Pisan bridge, however, it branches off to the left, into a soft green shady road, faced by a handsome conical mountain, and bordered by ilexes, cork-trees, and clustering flowers.
The rest of the way is a continual ascent until Sartene is reached.
Steep boulders, growing grander and more massive, and half covered with a scarlet leek parasite that is positively dazzling in the brilliant sunshine, rise on each side of the road, interspersed with ilex-trees, myrtle, arbutus, and many shrubs, sometimes lying gently in a flat grassy nook, like a garden rockery.
Near Sartene, the road grows terribly steep, winding for miles round and round the hot interminable hill, on the side of which lies the town, looking clean and superior. Blue sea peeped out behind us, and snow mountains invited us in front, as we got out, and, remembering that both good men and women are merciful to their beasts, toiled up the steep ascent beside the carriage.
Antonio had the best of it; for, with his hat pushed well back from his sunburnt face, he was consoling himself with a pipe for his long, hot walk. Antonio never smoked whilst on the box; hence, the sight of a steep hill had charms for him. In this respect, as in all others, he was a pleasing contrast to the Bastia coachman, who puffed his vile tobacco inside the carriage night and morning. Antonio appeared to think he must only smoke on sufferance, and at first used to retire behind the carriage whilst enjoying his uphill treat, directing the horses by an occasional call, and hastily smothering his pipe in his hand if spoken to.
Just before the entrance to the town, stood, close beside the road, an enormous boulder of grey stone. On this had been placed, evidently by nature, a smaller round one. On the top of this was reared a lofty iron cross, eight or ten feet high, a dove flying from its summit, and, as is always the case in Corsica, the crown of thorns, the ladder, spear, hammer, and nails, even the sponge upon the stick, fastened to it.