our luncheon, we had next to dispose of our horses, and commence the rest of the ascent on foot.  Striking straight up from the hut, we soon attained a narrow track winding up the wooded hill to the left, and without much difficulty or exertion, found ourselves within view of St. Sauveur, and a great part of the mountains and valleys.  However, we were yet some way from the summit, or even the highest attainable point (the summit being unattainable on account of snow), so we pulled ourselves into form, and whispering to one another to have “courage,” we moved upwards again.  A small rocky backbone was next attained, but still the higher crests remained, and seemed to say, “Excelsior.”  The guide got lazy, and preferred to study a little geology to mounting any higher, so we left him to pursue his researches and strode on.  Between the next point, gained after some little work, and the last crete below the actual summit, several banks of snow lay, and rendered progress difficult.  In two places a sharp decline, with no chance of clutching anything in case of falling, presented itself to dull our hopes, but by dint of using the alpenstocks well, and making deep tracks in the semi-melting snow, we reached the desired crest, with nothing but the white and inaccessible summit above.  The view was a very fine one, and fully justified all expectations, although our lazy guide was effectually shut out from our gaze.  The miniature town of St. Sauveur looked like a tiny model, with every accessory that could add to its charming position.  To the left, high above us, the mighty Barbe de Bouch (9624 ft.) stood out just below the clouds, in which the still loftier and very stony Pic d’Ardiden (9804 ft.) was partially hidden.  Further in the same direction the familiar forms of the Pics d’Aubiste and Litouese, and further yet, the Tour and Casque of the Gavarnie Cirque, stood out as snowy and as clear as the most eager sightseer could wish.  Over the town itself the Pic du Lacgrand, and down the valley to the right, the Col de Riou and the Pic de Viscos, were plainly visible; while the town of Argeles and the hills beyond it, required no glass to point out their position at the end of the splendid gorge.  Over against Luz the Col d’Arbeousse and the Pic de Nere (7880 ft.); with the Pic Bugaret (8859 ft.), the Maucapera (8893 ft.), and the massive Mont Arrouye (10,299 ft.), facing them, above the hut where we had lunched, added their attractions to swell the beauty of our view.

When we thought we had really taken in all that we could, we did not stay on our lofty perch much longer, fearing the result of our guide’s geological researches; however, we found him still fairly well, and very little less lazy, so took him for a little jolting down a rather “fast” bit, which not only woke him up, but brought us quickly down to our shepherd’s hut again.  Partly riding and partly walking, the rest of the descent was successfully accomplished, including the gathering of gentians,