the course of a winding river, and the information of the inhabitants is
equally misleading, for they always calculate distances by the road.

When we reached the next weir there was very little light left, so, without
attempting to pass it, we paddled down to the mill. It was kept by three
brothers, who treated us with much kindness and attention. I learnt that we
were not far from the village of Nabinaud in the Charente, where there was
a small inn at which it would be possible to pass the night.

Aubeterre was still some miles off by water, and there were weirs to
overcome. Tired out, with legs and feet scraped and scratched by stones and
stumps, and smarting still more from sun-scorch, we were glad enough to
find a sufficient reason for getting out of the boat here.

One of the brothers carried politeness so far--I saw from the importance
of the mill that remuneration was not to be thought of--as to walk about a
mile uphill in order to show the inn and to see us settled in it. Then he
left, for I could not prevail upon him to sit down and chink glasses.
It was but a cottage-inn on the open hillside, and I doubt if the
simple-minded people who kept it would have accepted us for the night but
for the introduction. Husband and wife gave up their room to us, and where
they went themselves I could not guess, unless it was to the loft or
fowl-house. They were surprised, almost overcome, by the invasion, the
like of which had never happened to them before; but they showed plenty of
goodwill.

All that could be produced in the way of dinner was an omelet, some fried
ham, very fat and salt, and some _grillons_-a name given to the residue
that is left by pork-fat when it has been slowly boiled down to make lard.
The people of Guyenne think much of their _grillons_ or _fritons_. I