Part 7 (1/2)

PUDDING.

Sago.

ICE, &c.

Vanilla cream.

Cheese, Jelly, and Biscuits.

When we woke the following morning, the sun s.h.i.+ning from a cloudless sky proclaimed an ”excursion morning.” Accordingly, we sent for a guide, to inquire if a visit to the Lac de Gaube was practicable. The guide arrived, and disappointment ensued. It was possible to go if we didn't mind a few miles of snow, two feet deep and upwards. But we did mind very strongly, and said so. Then the burly native spoke again, and said that the Col de Riou was an easy trip, that we could take horses to within a short distance of the summit, and that when we got there the splendid view would include St. Sauveur, Argeles, Bareges, Gavarnie, &c. &c. And we answered the burly native in his sister tongue (_patois_ was his mother tongue), or as near to it as we could, and said, ”Have three horses ready by half-past ten at this hotel, and we will start.” Then, delighted, he smiled and bowed, and disappeared down the street.

At eleven o'clock the cavalcade started, and a n.o.ble cavalcade it was: Miss Blunt on a strong dark bay pony, Mr. Sydney on a similar-coloured horse, and myself on a grey, formed the van; then came our burly friend (by name Pont Dominique), and another guide (Berret), carrying the lunch; and the rear was brought up by a small brindled bull-dog, and a smaller specimen of unknown breed, which was nevertheless a capital harmony in orange and white. In this order we left the Rue Richelieu and ascended the Rue d'Etigny, pa.s.sing under several wreaths and crowns, with which the streets were decorated. We had previously noticed these grand preparations on our arrival, and though sensible of the good feeling that apparently prompted these attentions, we thought they were somewhat superfluous. But that is (as they were) by the way.

Having soon reached the last of the houses, we gained the Rue du Pauze Vieux, and turning sharply to the right, ascended to the two establishments known respectively as the Pauze Vieux and Pauze Nouveau.

And here a paradox--pause, view, and be convinced! The Pauze Vieux is the Pauze Nouveau and the Pauze Nouveau is the Pauze Vieux. Should any well-educated citizen of any country under the sun (or daughter) be disposed to doubt, let him examine the buildings for himself, and he must agree.

Half-an-hour after starting we reached the cottage known as the ”Grange de la Reine Hortense,” the view from which is excessively fine. Looking down towards the town, the mighty Cabaliros (7655 ft.), forming a semicircle, stood above on the right; to the left of this semicircle reared up the Monne (8938 ft.), the highest mountain in the vicinity, from which other peaks make another similar formation, ending with La Brune, beside which, but more to the left and immediately over the town, rises the Peguere, covered with irregularly-heaped crags, and pines. The town itself looked very neat and compact: the Mamelon Vert (a small hill to the right) and the chief thorough-fares being easily distinguished. Far up the Lutour valley, to the extreme left, the Pic de Laba.s.sa, or de la Sebe (9781 ft.), and the Pyramide de Peyrelance (8800 ft.), completed the chief points of the scene in that direction; but far away in the opposite one we could easily see the Argeles valley and the Gothic church of Lourdes. Behind us, seemingly facing the Cabaliros, were the Col de Riou (6375 ft.), our would-be destination, and the Pic de Viscos. Winding up the hillside, and pa.s.sing banks blue with the large and small gentian, we entered the pines, which made a pleasant change. As at the Col d'Aspin, [Footnote: Vide Bigorre, p.

42.] the rising sap filled the air with its refres.h.i.+ng odour, and the occasional glimpses of blue sky, mountain, and valley, through the gently waving branches, were very charming.

[Ill.u.s.tration: ASCENT OF COL DE RIOU]

We had not proceeded very far through the trees when we reached a break, where one of the party felt that at least something had been gained. There, partly on the track, partly on the loose stones above it, lay a bank of snow, and so delighted was Miss Blunt at having attained the (present) snow-line--say about 4600 feet above sea level--that her feelings were not to be in any way damped or suppressed, as they burst forth in an

”EXHORTATION TO THE FIRST SNOW.”

Emblem of Purity, Chilly as Charity, Oh, what a joy your deep whiteness to view!

Something is gain'd at last, But you are melting fast, Why does the cruel sun put you to stew?

Tell me, O long-lain snow, What of the vale below?

What do you think about people and things?

Do you love forest-trees?

Or love you more the breeze?

Tell me what bird you think most sweetly sings?

What? You've no heart at all?

Cannot help where you fall, Caring not if you swell to a huge size: Minding not how you rush, What you break, whom you crush?

Surely such feelings you ought to disguise.

Ah, well! we won't discuss, Useless to make a fuss; For, after all, I am glad that we met.

Emblem of Purity, Chilly as Charity-- But I won't roll in you. No! you're too wet!

The two dogs were amusing in their absurdity. They were perpetually endeavouring to detach stones from the side of the pathway, so as to have the pleasure of pursuing them down the steep. At times, when the hill was thickly strewn with leaves or particularly steep, they completely disappeared, though violent pulsations among the scattered branches and the aforesaid leaves told us they were not lost, but only temporarily buried.

When we had barely mounted another 400 feet, we came upon regular banks of snow, right over the path. This was quite unexpected, and we had to decide whether to leave the horses and tramp through the snow, or to return. We chose the latter--although the Col de Riou stood out seemingly very practicable of ascent--and, returning on foot, the horses and guides following, with the dogs here, there, and everywhere, we reached the ”Grange de la Reine Hortense” and proceeded to lunch.

After giving a very good account of the _pate_ sandwiches, and not forgetting the guides and the dogs, we made our way slowly back, defeated perhaps, but certainly not discouraged.

Although neither the Lac de Gaube nor the Pont d'Espagne were attainable, the Cerizey Fall, which is about one third of the distance to the lake along the same route, was kind enough to put itself at our disposal. Not wis.h.i.+ng to appear ungrateful, we availed ourselves of a fine afternoon to order round the horses and our two guides, and started about two o'clock. For some time we followed the road known as the Rue de la Raillere, which leads to the baths of the same name from the Place St. Martin; crossing the river by a very unpretentious bridge, not far from the town. Leaving La Raillere behind, and pa.s.sing in turn the drinking establishment of Mauhourat--near which the Gaves of Lutour and Marcadau form the Gave of Cauterets--and the baths of Pet.i.t St. Sauveur and Le Pre, and gaining as we mounted a good view of the ”Cascade de Lutour” on the left, we entered the Marcadau valley, or (more properly) gorge. The scenery, similar somewhat to that at the entrance to the Cauterets gorge from Pierrefitte, is nevertheless wilder and more severe. The occasional bright fields and frequent mountain streams, with their merry music, disappear; but the lofty heights, the gloomy firs, the mighty crags and boulders, and the snow-peaks beyond, remain. After a great amount of very rough and steep ascending--the Pic de Gaube (7644 ft.) the while standing conspicuously before us--we reached the small hut that is intended as a shelter, near the fall. Dismounting and taking the narrow path to the right over the stones, immediately above the hut, we obtained a capital view of this noisy cascade. Other views were obtained by us from above, by clambering over the stones and boulders at the side of the torrent; but this is the best of all. From the hut (mentioned above) one hour's good walking, over anything but a pleasant track, brings one to the Pont d'Espagne, and it requires another forty minutes to reach the Lac de Gaube.