After leaving Campan the road ascends slightly through several small hamlets, each possessing a proportionately small chapel at the wayside, till Ste. Marie (2965 ft.) is reached.  Here the road bifurcates, the branch to the right leading to Gripp, Tramesaigues, the Col du Tourmalet, and Bareges; the branch to the left, along which we continued, to the Col d’Aspin, Arreau, Borderes, Col de Peyresourde (5070 ft.), and Luchon (2065 ft.).  From Ste. Marie the grandeur of the scenery increases.  Besides the Montaigu and the Pic du Midi on the right, on the left are the Pene de l’Heris (5226 ft.) and the Crete d’Ordincede (5358 ft. about), with their wooded crests uplifted above the range of lower hills, dotted with the huts of the shepherds.  Still ascending slightly, we passed Payole (3615 ft.), where a head thrust out of the window of the Hotel de la Poste showed us it was at any rate occupied, and as we drove past at a good pace, visions of a pleasant tea rose before us.

[Illustration:  THE PINE FOREST NEAR THE COL D’ASPIN.]

We were soon mounting the zigzags through the splendid pine woods, and enjoyed the delicious glimpses down the deep moss-grown glades, with the scent of the rising sap in our nostrils.  The glimpses on the mountains up and down the road were very felicitous also.  On emerging from the forest the road was rather narrow for the carriage for several yards, the snow being two to three feet deep on either side, but as soon as this was passed, another three-quarter mile of open driving brought us to the Col d’Aspin (4920 ft.).  The view from this spot is very fine, but to really enjoy the scenery to the fullest extent, we mounted the crest on the left, called the Monne Rouge (5759 ft.), and were well rewarded.  Although, as too often happens, the highest peaks were in the mist, we could see the whole extent of the valleys, and the tops of the lower mountains.  The range of sight is magnificent; the Maladetta (10,866 ft.) only just visible to the east, the huge Posets (11,047 ft.) standing out frowningly to the south-south-east, as well as the Pez (10,403 ft.) and the Clarabide (10,254 ft. about), and many others.  While not only the valley of Seoube, just passed through, and the valley of Aure, in which Arreau lies, are visible, but to the northwest even the plain of the Garonne as well.  As the clouds were gradually obscuring the scene, we made our way at a smart pace through the pines back towards the inn at Payole.  One weather-beaten old fir, hung with lichen, devoid of all its former garb of green, seemed to appeal to us for pity; we noticed it both when ascending and descending, and its misery at dying when all the trees around were growing anew, we have set down as

“THE PLAINT OF THE WEATHER-BEATEN PINE.”

  Behold I stand by the Aspin road, an old and worn-out Pine,
  The years I cannot recollect that make this life of mine: 
  The snows have fallen o’er my crest, the winds have whistled
    high,
  For tens of years the winter’s frost I managed to defy;
  But now the fiat has gone forth, the flame of life is dead,
  And nevermore I’ll feel the storms that beat about my head.