An Ascent of Mont Ventoux 



"Well, shall we risk it?" 

 " Yes, let's risk it; I'll follow you." 

 And we plunged blindly into the for- 

 midable unknown. 



We had not taken twenty strides, twenty 

 of those strides which one is not able to con- 

 trol on a steep slope, before all fear of 

 danger was over. Under our feet was not 

 the empty space of the abyss but the longed* 

 for ground, the ground covered with small 

 stones, which rolled down in long torrents. 

 To all of us, this rattling sound, denoting a 

 firm footing, was heavenly music. In a few 

 minutes we reached the upper edge of the 

 beeches. Here the darkness was even 

 greater than at the top of the mountain: we 

 had to stoop to the ground to see where we 

 were walking. How, in the gloom, were we 

 to find the Jas, buried away in the dense 

 wood? Two plants, the assiduous haunters 

 of places frequented by man the Cheno- 

 podium bonus-Henricus, or good-king-Henry, 

 and the common nettle served me as a 

 clue. I swept my free hand through the 

 air as I went along. Each sting that I felt 

 told me of a nettle, in other words, a land- 

 mark. Verlot, in the rear, also lunged about 

 as best he could and let smarting stings make 

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