into two or more currents, separated by willowy islets or banks of pebbles,
rushed with an eager and joyous cry a hundred yards or so; then it stopped
to take breath, and moved dreamily on again. Where the water was shallow
was many a broad patch of blooming ranunculus; so that it seemed as if the
fairies had been holding a great battle of white flowers upon the river.
We glided by the side of meadows where all the waving grass was full of
sunshine. On the bank stood purple torches of dame's violet, and the
dog-rose climbing upon the guelder rose was pictured with it in the water.
On the opposite bank stood the great rocks which have caused this part of
the river to be called the Gorge of Hell. Here human beings in perpetual
terror of their own kind cut themselves holes in the face of the precipice,
and lived where now the jackdaw, the hawk, the owl, and the bat are the
only inhabitants. In the Middle Ages the English companies turned the side
of the rock into a stronghold which was the terror of the surrounding
district.

This fastness was called La Roque de Tayac, because the village of Tayac
faces it on the other side of the river. Although only a few fragments of
the masonry that was formerly attached to the rock remain, the chambers cut
in the solid limestone are strange testimony of the habits and contrivances
of England's lawless partisans in these remote valleys. The lower
excavations evidently served for stables, as the mangers roughly cut in
the rock testify. The horses or mules were led up and down a steep narrow
ledge. A perpendicular boring, shaped like a well, connects the lowest
chamber with those above, and there can be no doubt that the nethermost
part served the purpose of a well or cistern. By means of a hanging rope a
man could easily pull himself up to the higher stages and let himself down
in the same manner. In the event of a surprise the rope would, of course,
be pulled up. Woe to those who exposed their heads in this cylindrical
passage to the stones which the defenders above had in readiness to hurl