The Republican journal., 1912-03-21
IN AJACc1o.
III


Whenever I start out for walk alone,
three or four obligingly follow me, as If,
seeing me unaccompanied by any human,
they felt that the honors OF Corslcan
hospitality devolved upon them. Their
companionship is most agreeable, for
Corsican dogs are exceedingly intelligent.
One or two go on ahead to show me the
way, another fingers by my side, and
still fourth follows in the rear. At my
whistle all congregate about me, with
tails wagging and honest faces beam
ing with kindness and good nature. l
have not yet seen a MANNED or diseased
dog among them. There was one rather
thin fox terrier bitch, but she has been
adopted by soldier at the fort, who
SAYS he means to feed her we'll. Many
pleasant ramble have had thus attend
3D. Boudiano, which in Corsican means
tiger, since he is yellow marked with
black stripes, being one of my especial
favorites. Then there is jet black Negro,
and Colo, named after one of the rivers
of his native land, the dog of the goat
herd Ettore Cacciaguerra. His thrilling
story l have told elsewhere in the pages
of 1.-THE Animals Friend" of London,
England.
In the neighborhood of Ajaccio are
many charming promenades. The Cor
sicans, who seldom walk, and never if
they can ride, regard the winter tourists,
whether they be English, Scandinavian,
Russian, German or American, as wholly
mad to prefer such means of loco
motion We are never ending source
of wonderment to them. Just out of
the Cours Grandral is the walk prefer
in the afternoon. 1t goes up from the
Place Casone, bare open space where
the soldiers drill, and in their hours of
recreation play foot ball. After steep
ascent wide carriage road is reached,
running at quite height through olive
groves, and looking perpendicularly
down to the shimmering Bay of Ajaccio.
The striking Grecian tomb of the Peraldi
family stands on an eminence just above
this roadway. 1t can be seen far out at
sea. Its beautiful symmetry, its dazzling
whiteness, relieved by the dark green
background of the cypress and the olive
trees, it's base embedded in the maquis,
and the brilliant blue of the Corsican sky
over all, make it one of the most promi-
nent landmarks hereabouts. One can see
it from nearly every direction. The day
of our arrival we asked breathlessly,
"What is that lovely Grecian temple?"
"Memento mori," was the reply, as the
old peasant raised his cap. CHANGING to
the right we see EMPOWERED in Towering
shrubs, mimosas and almond trees in
bloom, the stately house of the English
Consul On it's turret floats the Union
Jack. Farther on is another white tomb,
and then we emerge from turning in
the road in full view of Highland House,
one of the most Economically situated of
stop for afternoon tea, served with cups
of foaming goats milk and the strong
dark brown Corsican honey, which is made
by the bees slipping the eucalyptus
blossoms and the aromatic plants of the
maquis. Some pleasant desultory con-
versation and our walk is resumed. Still
upward climbing, undaunted by the
thorns and prickles of the cacti and the
ever prolific prickly pear, and an incom-
parable view spreads itself out before
us, Monte Tritore in solemn sgrandeur
looking down on all the ages that are
gone, the hoary head of Monte d'Oro re-
mlnding us of far away Switzerland, the
peaceful valley to our left given over to
cultivation by the agricultural school of
Castelluccio at the foot of Monte di Lisa,
and the unruffied waters of the bay
stretching out in lazy content to reach
at last the blue Mediterranean.
Over an expanse of cistus, myrtle,
lauristinus, arbutus, lavender, sarsapa-
rilla and other Towering shrubs, which
give to the maquis its peculiar aromatic
smell, one gets a fair glimpse of Monte
Rotundo. 1t is a scene which defies ade-
quate description. To those who love
the country and its rural delights, whose
health is rugged, to whom walking is no
exertion, who are content with primitive
living, and whose pocket book is well
lined, l say, "Come over and spend a
winter in Corsica" At our feet grows
the Helichrysum, or curry plant, COM
monty so called, with its yellow immor-
telle flowers, impregnating the air with
its peculiar lingering odour. l think it
must have been the memory cfiths plant,
as we'll as Of the maquis, that made
Napoleon exclaim that he should know
his island only by its odour, even if his
eyes were closed. One finds this fasci-
mating scent nowhere else in all the
world. Our clothes are full of it, the
very goats and sheep bear it about with
them. 1t is something distinctively Cor
sican. Sitting to rest near the Belvedere
on curiously shaped rock which we
have christened "the Armchair we
INDUCED in idle conversation with pass
L: Il