take another sun-bath. After being roused by a blow, the creature did not
attempt to run, but did battle bravely, fiercely striking at the stick.

The path I had been following with so much confidence dwindled away and was
lost. Again the gorge became a deep rift in the rocks, which left no margin
on which one could walk. The only way to follow the windings of the stream
would have been to wade or swim. Once more I had to own myself beaten
by natural obstacles. The Dordogne is a river that cannot be followed
throughout its savage wildernesses, except perhaps in a light flat-bottomed
boat, and then not without serious difficulties. Anglers might have
splendid sport here until they broke their necks, for the trout abound
where the shadow of a man seldom or never falls. In the neighbourhood of
towns and large villages the fishing is often spoilt by the casting-net.

Having realized the situation, I turned my back to the stream and commenced
climbing the steep side of the gorge, choosing a spot where it was well
wooded, for the sake of the foothold. For some distance the ground was
green with moss and wood-sorrel; but the tug-of-war came when the vast
banks of loose stones--hot, bare, and shale-like--were reached. On gaining
the plateau, I threw myself down upon the heather and looked at the scene
below. The mingling of rock, forest, and stream was superbly desolate. Even
the naked steeps of slate-coloured broken stone had an impressive grandeur
of their own.

Leaving the Dordogne with the intention of cutting off a wide bend and
meeting it again the next day or the day after, I struck across the
half-cultivated open country, hoping soon to find a village; for I had
spent much time in the gorge and made very little progress, while the sun
had moved nearly up to the centre of his arc. The rays fell fiercely,
and there was no shade upon the plateau. There was a road, but it was