A tour through the Pyrenees . ed with rollingstones. It turns with every ten paces, in order toconquer the steepness of the slopes. You reachat last a naked ridge, where you dismount fromyour horse ; here begins the top of the walk for ten minutes over a carpet of serriedheather, and you are upon the highest summit. What a view ! Everything human disappears ;villages, enclosures, cultivations, all seem like thework of ants. I have two valleys under my eyes,which seem two little bands of earth lost in a bluefunnel. Nothinof exists here but the ioads and our works have
A tour through the Pyrenees . ed with rollingstones. It turns with every ten paces, in order toconquer the steepness of the slopes. You reachat last a naked ridge, where you dismount fromyour horse ; here begins the top of the walk for ten minutes over a carpet of serriedheather, and you are upon the highest summit. What a view ! Everything human disappears ;villages, enclosures, cultivations, all seem like thework of ants. I have two valleys under my eyes,which seem two little bands of earth lost in a bluefunnel. Nothinof exists here but the ioads and our works have scratched uponthem an imperceptible point ; we are mites, wholodge, between two awakings, under one of thehairs of an elephant. Our civilization is a pretty, miniature toy, with which nature amuses herself for23 354 THE VALLEY OF LUZ. Book III. a moment, and which presently she will see nothing but a throng of mountains seatedunder the burning dome of heaven. They areranged in an amphitheatre, like a council of im-. movable and eternal beings. All considerationsare overpowered by the sensation of immensity:monstrous ridges which stretch themselves out,gigantic, bony spines, ploughed flanks that drop *iin L. iJII I A yi \ I If p I I ,1NW I / ji 1 ,1/ fi H f l( ! •
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