Romantic Corsica, wanderings in Napoleon's isle; . can rode,indulged a similar weakness. The third was a youngsternot yet accustomed to the saddle. A number of timesafterwards I noticed mules behaving in the same manner,and I should think that the trait is one handed downfrom ancestors who had to carry their masters by narrowmountain paths, and who acquired the habit of walkingon the extreme edge of the road in order to prevent therider knocking against the rocks on the other side. The road from Ota goes for some time along the rightbank of the Porto, and then changes over to the coun
Romantic Corsica, wanderings in Napoleon's isle; . can rode,indulged a similar weakness. The third was a youngsternot yet accustomed to the saddle. A number of timesafterwards I noticed mules behaving in the same manner,and I should think that the trait is one handed downfrom ancestors who had to carry their masters by narrowmountain paths, and who acquired the habit of walkingon the extreme edge of the road in order to prevent therider knocking against the rocks on the other side. The road from Ota goes for some time along the rightbank of the Porto, and then changes over to the country through which it passes is an excellent sport-ing region, and on two occasions near Marignana—ahamlet about two miles from the road on the right—wesaw a number of wild boars. They are more numerousin this part than anywhere else in Corsica, and theyattract many sportsmen from Ajaccio and Cort^, fromboth of which there are excellent roads into the district. The scenery after joining the Evisa road is magnificent the finest in all the BY THE GULFS OF THE WEST 275 Grandiose, nest-ce pas ? was my companions con-stantly reiterated exclamation, and the word fits and wide is a cunning parquetry of colours, blendinginto one another magically, over which the dazzlinglight of day casts a curious spell. Seen from the Col deCapicciolo (i,8oo feet high) the valley of the Porto is amasterpiece, rivalling in seductive beauty even the Gorgeof Santa Regina, but alas ! words are such very poorpaint-brushes. The severe, majestic grandeur of the steep,reddish rocks, the far-thrown maquis, the spreadingchestnut forests, are inspiringly grand even to one whoseeyes have been fed day by day with the endless comelinessof all the Scented Isle. Evisa itself is just a trifle smaller than Ota, and as onesees it for the first time it looks as though fairies insteadof warlike men had selected its site, chosen its garb, andtricked it out to charm the eye. I do not wonder at itspopul
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