which the figure of the Saviour was rudely carved in relief. The form was
so uncouth as to be scarcely human. The head was half as wide again as the
space across the shoulders, and the hands were nearly as large as the head.
How many centuries ago did Christian piety raise this rough image of its
hope upon the moors amidst the purple heather and the yellow broom?

The road crossed another stream not far from the spot where it fell into
the Dordogne. There was a wooded quietude here, with an odour of fresh
grass and water that enticed me to linger; but the evening light in the
tops of the trees and the twittering of the birds settling amongst the
leaves for the night spurred me on. I had walked many miles since the
morning, but had made very little way according to the map, so full of
deception is this wild Limousin country to the wanderer who does not know
it. I had still some eight miles to walk before reaching Neuvic.

There was a little mill at the bottom of the grassy valley, but it seemed
deserted by all living creatures save a dog. This rather large and shaggy
animal seized the rare opportunity that was now offered him for a little
excitement. Not satisfied with barking at me furiously from his own ground,
he followed me about a mile up the hill I had now to climb, but without
venturing very near. At length I thought I had had enough of his company,
so at the next bend in the road I came to a stand beside a heap of stones
that a _cantonnier_ had neatly piled up in geometrical pattern. There I
waited, and the animal came on gaily, little expecting to find himself
suddenly at close quarters with me. Just as he turned the corner he raised
a howl that said he was both surprised and shocked. Skipping with great
agility, he avoided the next stone, and the expression of his face told me
that he was already feeling very home-sick. He turned tail as quick as he
could, and used very bad dog-language as the stones followed him down the
hill. As a rule, dogs lose all their courage when they are out of sight of