We met two Spaniards hurrying along, who had crossed the mountains from Saragossa: they were fine, strong-looking men, and sufficiently wild; but too dirty and slovenly to excite much admiration _here_; if we had seen them on the opposite side of the ravine they might have passed for picturesque, in the same manner as the singing of our guide might have delighted our ears had we heard him from a distance: as it was, he indulged our request by intoning some of the pastorals of Despourrins, which, if the spirit of the poet of the Pyrenees is wandering amongst the mountains, must have greatly _perturbed_ it.
A long, loud, unmelodious drawl, like a dirge, with many a dying fall, was the vehicle in which the tender expressions of the poet were conveyed to our ears; and I was reproached by my companions for having injudiciously praised the verses of the Swan of Bearn: certainly heard in mutilated fragments, and sung by such a musician--"_La Hauet sus las Mountagnes_" and "_La Plus Charmante Anesquette_," were not calculated to excite much admiration.
A lady of our party, who was acquainted with the popular songs of Languedoc, repeated a few verses to our guide, who took up the strain, which was not new to him: it is singular how widely these simple songs are spread from one part of France to the other; indeed, they are scarcely confined to any country, and, like traditions, seem to have wandered up and down into all regions.

For instance, I was very much surprised, a short time ago, to see in a work on Persian popular literature, an almost literal version of a song, well-known on the Bourbonnais, which I had met with at Moulins.
I questioned the guide on the subject of the superstitions of the valley, and found that he had himself _seen_ the fairies called _Les Blanquettes_: those charming mountain-fairies who roam along the peaks singing mournful songs.

"I had often heard of them," said he, "and many of my friends had seen them hovering about the mouths of caverns on the highest points of the mountains.

I wished, therefore, to satisfy myself, and went to the spot where others had beheld them, and sure enough there they were, figures in white, like women, in a circle round the entrance of a cavern." "And were these fairies ?" I asked.
He paused a moment, and then said--"As for fairies, that is an old story, which some people believe: these that I saw _were only shadows_." It appears to me that superstition is fast wearing out in the Pyrenees, as well as everywhere else.
As we continued our way, we observed, along the snowy path, tracks of the feet of animals--a troop of wild-cats had evidently been before us, and here and there we remarked a print, which could be nothing less than the foot-mark of a wolf.

The flight of a large bird, which I believe to have been a vulture, added to the solemnity of the scene; but there were less of these indications of solitude than I hoped to experience, for all was sunshine and gaiety around.
We observed near the Pont Crabe, _i.e._ Pont des Chevres, on the opposite side of the ravine, a desolate-looking mill, placed in so wild and rugged a position, that one could not but pity those whose fortune might have condemned them to a residence there all the year round: a story attached to the cottage made it still more sad.
It appears that a young girl, the very flower of maidens in the Vallee d'Ossau, had been deceived and deserted by her lover, and on the point of becoming a mother, when she consulted the priest of her parish, confessing to him her weakness, and entreating his aid to enable her to propitiate offended Heaven.