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Take this cane it shall be your mount; get on horseback and gallop around this table as gracefully as you can, and with the gentlest airs that you can put on. Come, Mont-Dore, to horse, the courser will not run away with you. Make room, there, make room, there, noble seigneurs above all, do not approach the animal too closely. Come, Mont-Dore, start galloping, my daring knight!"
He thereupon called to his bear as he pulled in the animal's chain, and said: "Come to me, Mont-Dore!" The bear promptly obeyed the call, drew near and modestly sat down on his haunches; he then raised his head submissively up to his master, who, as he stood before the animal, half hid him from the slaves.
Looking to the east, I saw the mountains of Auvergne, the Mont-Dore range rising beyond the Correze against the blue sky, as white as the sugar towers and pinnacles upon a bride-cake. Here it was warm, like June weather in England; there winter still reigned upon the snowy hills.
For these reasons she went, in the summer of 1880, to Mont-Dore for treatment, and was much benefited in regard to her deafness, though not cured, and now the condition of her lungs was recognized, and what she had realized for some time was told to her family. She suffered greatly from the restrictions of her condition.
Are not those accursed fellows wolves? Have not bears and wolves the same dens? Come Mont-Dore, up my lad, show your skill to our holy bishop, who is present, and to the illustrious King Chram; also to the very renowned count and the noble audience.
O France, O my beloved country, you are triumphant; you are the queen of nations!... Your genius shines forth over the world.... All the earth wonders at you...." These are the words contained in the document written at the Mont-Doré on the 3rd and handed to M. de Vesme on the 13th of June 1914, at a moment when no one was thinking of the terrible war which to-day is ravaging half the world.
I had left the volcanic mountains of Auvergne and had passed through Mont-Dore and La Bourboule, following the course of the Dordogne that flowed through the valley with the bounding spirits of a young mountaineer descending for the first time towards the great plains where the large towns and cities lie with all their fancied wonders and untasted charm. But these towns and cities were afar off.
The width of the Mont-Dore valley decreased rapidly, and I entered the gorge of the Dordogne, where basaltic rocks were thrown up in savage grandeur, vividly contrasting with which were bands and patches of meadow, brilliantly green. Yellow spikes of agrimony and the fine pink flowers of the musk-mallow mingled with the wiry broom and the waving bracken about the rocks.
"If you order it, glorious King, my bear will ride on horseback on my cane, and myself holding him by the chain, he will gracefully gallop around the hall." "Good; let us see him do it." "Attention! Mont-Dore." "How do you call him?" "Mont-Dore, glorious King. I give him that name because I caught him when he was still but a cub on one of the peaks of Mont Dore."
To the north-east the sky-line was marked by the Mont-Dore range, with the highest peak of Auvergne, the Puy de Sancy, clearly visible against the lighter blue of the cloudless air. The feeling that prevailed throughout this wide expanse of country was solemn sternness.
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