Lalande was, however, determined upon one thing, and that was to avoid the main road, and as I had so far successfully opposed his plan of forcing a night journey, I did not feel justified in making further objections, and allowed him to follow the by-paths he chose without further protest, though indeed, it was as if there was some truth in Mousette's remark of last night, that he was choosing the most difficult tracks to show how well he knew the way. We now entered the mountains of the Limousin, and what would have been a mile elsewhere, became three here with the ups and downs, the turns and twists. For miles we passed never a human habitation, except now and again a few woodcutters' huts, and sometimes a small outlying farm, and I felt the justice of Lalande's remark, when he defended himself from a sharp attack by Mousette, by saying he had chosen this road because it was safe from gentlemen like la Coquille, who never found any bones worth the picking on it, and therefore left it and its difficulties severely alone--though, of course, there was the odd chance of our meeting them, and so again to the old argument of travelling by night. As we went on the scenery became wilder and more savage, and once a large grey wolf, with two cubs by her side, appeared on the track about fifty paces or so in front of us, and after giving our party a quiet survey, and showing us a line of great strong teeth as she snarled on us, trotted calmly off with her family down the hillside. Both Mousette and myself were not unnaturally alarmed; but Lalande, with a "Never fear, madame, there is no danger," kept quietly along, though I saw that he had pulled a pistol from his holster. As the day advanced we became aware that the sun was being obscured by clouds more often than it should be at this time of year, and every now and again gusts of wind would race down the ravines, and lose themselves with ominous warnings through the forest. Still, however, the horizon was clear, and high above all others we could make out the crest of Mount Odouze. I asked Lalande if he thought there was likely to be a storm. "It is hard to tell, madame; storms come on very suddenly in these hills, but if there is one it will not be very bad, for we can see the Cradle, as that dip between the two peaks of Mount Odouze is called, quite distinctly." But though he spoke thus reassuringly, I saw that he increased the pace, and that ever and again he would scan the horizon, and look up at the sky. Once when he thought I had caught him, he explained as he pointed upwards: "'Tis a red eagle, madame, that must have flown here from the Pyrenees--a long journey. See--there it is--that speck in the sky."