This was no drawback to one whose desire was to enjoy the last days of autumn amongst the mountains while the weather yet continued fine,--and lovely that autumn weather is, atoning by the richness of its colours for the absence of beauties which belong to an earlier season.
I accordingly made all the necessary arrangements for a guide and horses to cross the Tourmalet on the next day, and devoted the remainder of a lovely afternoon to the ascent of Mont L'Heris--a mountain that supplies the botanist with treasures almost inexhaustible.

Crossing the Adour by a rude bridge of only one plank, and traversing some fields, filled with labourers busily employed in getting in their harvest of Indian corn, I reached the pretty little village of Aste, which lies buried in a deep gorge, at the south-eastern base of the mountain.

Aste has associations connected with Henri Quatre; for in the castle, now a mere shell, once resided the beautiful Gabrielle d'Estrees, who used here to receive her royal lover.

The Seigneur du Village is the Duc de Grammont--a name which appears singularly out of keeping with this romantic and secluded spot.
The ascent of Mont L'Heris is steep but not difficult, for the profusion of flowers and richly-scented plants, scattered over the short elastic turf, beguile the climber's path, and lure him pleasantly upward.

The first pause I made was on a bold projection, skirting the forest of Haboura on one side, and on the other hanging over the beautiful valley of Campan.