in Provence and the Cevcnncs. 321 



plentiful. Daphne oleokles, so common in parts of the 

 Himalaya, was also very abundant, and the whole tract was 

 alive with nio;htin2:ales and thrushes. The mean altitude 

 is about 2500 feet above sea-level, and the annual rainfall 

 is 36 inches, spread over six months of the year. The 

 presence of the forest here is accounted for by the theory 

 that the currents of air from the sea on the one side, and from 

 the Alps on the other, meet en the rocky ridge which runs 

 parallel to the coast-line, and discharge their moisture on it ; 

 but it seems at least probable that their influence is aided 

 by springs, which rise at the foot of the cliffs in sufficient 

 quantity to keep the soil always moist. However this 

 may be, there the forest lies, surrounded on all sides by 

 barren desolation, and in it are some of as fine trees as 

 one could wish to see. A remarkable fact in connection 

 with them is that their wood is extraordinarily heavy, 

 generally speaking, one-third more so than that of the 

 same species grown at Nancy ; this being probably due to 

 the increased light and heat which they receive as com- 

 pared with those which are found in more northerly lati- 

 tudes, as well as to the moisture pervading the air and soil. 

 Some of the hornbeam is so heavy that it will not float in 

 water. There are signs of ancient cultivation within the 

 forest — yew trees, apparently centuries old, now standing 

 on the old terraces. 



As we neared the foot of the cliff, the trees became 

 stunted, and finally they ceased altogether ; but we followed 

 a path leading to the summit, where we obtained a view 

 over the dried-up desolate country surrounding us on every 

 side, and we were then able fully to realise the remarkable 

 position that this little oasis occupies. On our way down 

 we paid a visit to the holy grotto, which contains a beautiful 

 spring of water, as well as many altars and statues, and 

 while we were there the friar, who lives at its entrance, 

 returned ; he is a botanist, and had his wallet full of speci- 

 mens he had collected on his way up the hill. After some 

 conversation with him, we descended through the forest by 

 another road to the hospice, where the amiable and cheer- 

 ful monk who has charge of it met us, and after dinner we 

 sought our rooms, and slept soundly on our straw mattresses. 



Next morning we shouldered our knapsacks and started 



