Correze, are called Auvergnats in Perigord, or, rather, such of them as
come down the stream with their small barges laden with wood, when the
autumnal rains have commenced, and there is sufficient water in the river
for their purpose. Sometimes, in their anxiety to turn their wood into
money, they start a little too early, and being misled by an increase of
the current which is not maintained, they go aground after a few days'
navigation. I have seen one of these boats stuck fast on a bank almost in
mid-stream, with the rapids nearly breaking over it with a roar that could
be heard a mile away. The wood is cut in the forests, which stretch almost
without a break for many a league on both sides of the Upper Dordogne, and
is seasoned, dressed, and shaped for barrel-making before it is put afloat.
The boats, which are some thirty or forty feet long, are necessarily
flat-bottomed, and are so roughly built that there are usually gaping
spaces between the planks, which are caked with moss. They are good enough
for the voyage, which is their first and last. The men return, but
never the boats. These are sold as firewood at Libourne, when they have
discharged their cargoes. Where the water is deep and comparatively quiet
the speed is increased by rowing with very long oars; but where the current
is strong the boat has only to be steered. This, however, is work that
needs thorough knowledge of the river.

The autumn is a merry time for these Auvergnats. They look forward to it
during the long months that they are working in the woods. The annual
voyage to the Bordelais gives them an opportunity of again seeing the old
friends whom they have been meeting for years at the waterside inns where
they frequently put up at night, because the descent of the Dordogne in the
dark is rather too exciting. They always say that they will start again
in the morning at sunrise, but it often happens that the sun is very high
indeed before they are afloat. After all, an Auvergnat is a man no less
than another, and because he lives on next to nothing eleven months in the