ACROSS THE MOORS OF THE CORREZE.


The night being passed at Bort, the next morning I continued my journey by
the Dordogne. Again the sky was cloudless. I kept on the right bank of the
river--the Limousin side, leaving the Cantal to some future day, that may
never come. A little beyond the spot where the Dordogne and the Rue met
and embraced uproariously, the path entered a narrow lane bordered by tall
hedges chiefly of hazel and briar overclimbed by wild clematis--well termed
the traveller's joy, for it is a beautiful plant that reminds many a
wanderer of his far-away home.

[Illustration: A WOMAN OF THE CORREZE.]

Then I passed under precipitous naked rocks, with the river on the other
hand, skirted by low bushes of twiggy willow that looked like tamarisk from
a distance. The sun was now hot, and the ground was again all astir with
lizards. Looking upon the path just in front of me, I brought myself to a
sudden stop. Had I advanced a step or two more I could hardly have failed
to tread upon a serpent that lay dozing in the sun just in my way. I was
glad that I did not do so, for I recognised it, by its olive skin with
reddish patches, as the dreaded _aspic_, or red viper. There it lay
stretched out its full length, about a foot and a half, either asleep or
enjoying the morning sun so much that it was in no humour to move. I do
not kill snakes indiscriminately, like the peasants whenever they get the
chance, but this one being dangerous, I resolved that it should never