When we reached Laruns we had a fine view of its pointed peak, and through the morning haze the lofty Pic de Ger over Eaux Bonnes looked imposing indeed.  Travelling we found very pleasant.  There was no dust, the air was cool, the roads just soft enough for comfort, and the whole valley refreshed with the morning’s rain.  The people in the fields worked with greater energy, and the bright scarlet hoods of the damsels, many of whom followed the plough, gave a pleasant colouring to an animated scene.  We passed several flocks of geese, apparently unwilling to proceed at as rapid a pace as the good woman—­with her frilled gaiters—­who was in charge of them wished; but with those exceptions we hardly met anybody or anything on the road till we had passed Louvie.

What we then met were a couple of carts filled with coal, and as we never recollected having seen any such peculiar teams as they were drawn by, we concluded they were “Ossalois,” and “peculiar” to the valley.  There were eight animals to each cart, four bulls and four horses.  The bulls were harnessed in pairs (as in a four-in-hand coach), and acted as wheelers, while the horses, acting as leaders, were harnessed in line, one in front of another.  Curious as this arrangement seemed, they made good progress with a very heavy load!

[Illustration:  THE PIC DE GER.]

At Sevignac a splendid Guelder rose-tree grew in a small garden over a mill stream, and a very ancient dame very willingly sold us some clusters which were peculiarly fine; in another garden a very fine bush of white cistus was completely covered with blooms.  The hedgerows, too, were bright with flowers; the wild Guelder roses and medlars [Footnote:  The “makilahs,” or slicks peculiar to the Basque people, are made from the wild medlar.  They are very heavy, tipped with iron, and unpleasant to carry.] preponderating, but elder bushes were also plentiful, and covered with blossoms.

At Rebenac we stopped at the Hotel du Perigord for coffee and a fifteen minutes’ rest, the horses not requiring any more, as the day was so cool.  While drinking the “welcome liquid” we watched an old woman out of the window, spinning.  Her distaff was apparently very old and dirty, and as she span she seemed to be crooning some ancient ditty to herself, thinking, maybe, of her children and grandchildren, or even of the days when she was herself a child.

We started again when the quarter of an hour was up, and bowled along towards Gan, meeting on the way several natives (men) with their hair in long pigtails, like Chinamen; they looked otherwise decidedly Bearnais, but their appearance was peculiar, to say the least of it.  Beyond Gan we passed into full view of the lovely Coteaux, which afford such pleasant rides and drives from Pau, and as we gradually neared the town, the heat seemed to intensify to anything but a pleasurable degree.

Four hours forty minutes after starting we were once more under the roof of Maison Colbert, with such a luncheon before us as fully justified the hospitable repute that it has always borne.