UPPER GEVAUDAN
The way also here was very wearisome through dirt and slabbiness;
nor was there on all this ground so much as one inn or victualling-
house wherein to refresh the feebler sort.
PILGRIM'S PROGRESS.
A CAMP IN THE DARK
THE next day (Tuesday, September 24th), it was two o'clock in the
afternoon before I got my journal written up and my knapsack
repaired, for I was determined to carry my knapsack in the future
and have no more ado with baskets; and half an hour afterwards I
set out for Le Cheylard l'Eveque, a place on the borders of the
forest of Mercoire. A man, I was told, should walk there in an
hour and a half; and I thought it scarce too ambitious to suppose
that a man encumbered with a donkey might cover the same distance
in four hours.
All the way up the long hill from Langogne it rained and hailed
alternately; the wind kept freshening steadily, although slowly;
plentiful hurrying clouds - some dragging veils of straight rain-
shower, others massed and luminous as though promising snow -
careered out of the north and followed me along my way. I was soon
out of the cultivated basin of the Allier, and away from the
ploughing oxen, and such-like sights of the country. Moor,
heathery marsh, tracts of rock and pines, woods of birch all
jewelled with the autumn yellow, here and there a few naked
cottages and bleak fields, - these were the characters of the
country. Hill and valley followed valley and hill; the little
green and stony cattle-tracks wandered in and out of one another,
split into three or four, died away in marshy hollows, and began
again sporadically on hillsides or at the borders of a wood.
There was no direct road to Cheylard, and it was no easy affair to
make a passage in this uneven country and through this intermittent
labyrinth of tracks. It must have been about four when I struck
Sagnerousse, and went on my way rejoicing in a sure point of
departure. Two hours afterwards, the dusk rapidly falling, in a
lull of the wind, I issued from a fir-wood where I had long been
wandering, and found, not the looked-for village, but another
marish bottom among rough-and-tumble hills. For some time past I
had heard the ringing of cattle-bells ahead; and now, as I came out
of the skirts of the wood, I saw near upon a dozen cows and perhaps
as many more black figures, which I conjectured to be children,
although the mist had almost unrecognisably exaggerated their
forms. These were all silently following each other round and
round in a circle, now taking hands, now breaking up with chains
and reverences. A dance of children appeals to very innocent and
lively thoughts; but, at nightfall on the marshes, the thing was
eerie and fantastic to behold. Even I, who am well enough read in
Herbert Spencer, felt a sort of silence fall for an instant on my
mind. The next, I was pricking Modestine forward, and guiding her
like an unruly ship through the open. In a path, she went doggedly
ahead of her own accord, as before a fair wind; but once on the
turf or among heather, and the brute became demented. The tendency
of lost travellers to go round in a circle was developed in her to
the degree of passion, and it took all the steering I had in me to
keep even a decently straight course through a single field.
While I was thus desperately tacking through the bog, children and
cattle began to disperse, until only a pair of girls remained
behind. From these I sought direction on my path. The peasantry
in general were but little disposed to counsel a wayfarer. One old
devil simply retired into his house, and barricaded the door on my
approach; and I might beat and shout myself hoarse, he turned a
deaf ear. Another, having given me a direction which, as I found
afterwards, I had misunderstood, complacently watched me going
wrong without adding a sign. He did not care a stalk of parsley if
I wandered all night upon the hills! As for these two girls, they
were a pair of impudent sly sluts, with not a thought but mischief.
One put out her tongue at me, the other bade me follow the cows;
and they both giggled and jogged each other's elbows. The Beast of
Gevaudan ate about a hundred children of this district; I began to
think of him with sympathy.
Leaving the girls, I pushed on through the bog, and got into
another wood and upon a well-marked road. It grew darker and
darker. Modestine, suddenly beginning to smell mischief, bettered
the pace of her own accord, and from that time forward gave me no
trouble. It was the first sign of intelligence I had occasion to
remark in her. At the same time, the wind freshened into half a
gale, and another heavy discharge of rain came flying up out of the
north. At the other side of the wood I sighted some red windows in
the dusk. This was the hamlet of Fouzilhic; three houses on a
hillside, near a wood of birches. Here I found a delightful old
man, who came a little way with me in the rain to put me safely on
the road for Cheylard. He would hear of no reward; but shook his
hands above his head almost as if in menace, and refused volubly
and shrilly, in unmitigated PATOIS.
All seemed right at last. My thoughts began to turn upon dinner
and a fireside, and my heart was agreeably softened in my bosom.
Alas, and I was on the brink of new and greater miseries!
Suddenly, at a single swoop, the night fell. I have been abroad in
many a black night, but never in a blacker. A glimmer of rocks, a
glimmer of the track where it was well beaten, a certain fleecy
density, or night within night, for a tree, - this was all that I
could discriminate. The sky was simply darkness overhead; even the
flying clouds pursued their way invisibly to human eyesight. I
could not distinguish my hand at arm's-length from the track, nor
my goad, at the same distance, from the meadows or the sky.
Soon the road that I was following split, after the fashion of the
country, into three or four in a piece of rocky meadow. Since
Modestine had shown such a fancy for beaten roads, I tried her
instinct in this predicament. But the instinct of an ass is what
might be expected from the name; in half a minute she was
clambering round and round among some boulders, as lost a donkey as
you would wish to see. I should have camped long before had I been
properly provided; but as this was to be so short a stage, I had
brought no wine, no bread for myself, and little over a pound for
my lady friend. Add to this, that I and Modestine were both
handsomely wetted by the showers. But now, if I could have found
some water, I should have camped at once in spite of all. Water,
however, being entirely absent, except in the form of rain, I
determined to return to Fouzilhic, and ask a guide a little farther
on my way - 'a little farther lend thy guiding hand.'
The thing was easy to decide, hard to accomplish. In this sensible
roaring blackness I was sure of nothing but the direction of the
wind. To this I set my face; the road had disappeared, and I went
across country, now in marshy opens, now baffled by walls
unscalable to Modestine, until I came once more in sight of some
red windows. This time they were differently disposed. It was not
Fouzilhic, but Fouzilhac, a hamlet little distant from the other in
space, but worlds away in the spirit of its inhabitants. I tied
Modestine to a gate, and groped forward, stumbling among rocks,
plunging mid-leg in bog, until I gained the entrance of the
village. In the first lighted house there was a woman who would
not open to me. She could do nothing, she cried to me through the
door, being alone and lame; but if I would apply at the next house,
there was a man who could help me if he had a mind.
They came to the next door in force, a man, two women, and a girl,
and brought a pair of lanterns to examine the wayfarer. The man
was not ill-looking, but had a shifty smile. He leaned against the
doorpost, and heard me state my case. All I asked was a guide as
far as Cheylard.
'C'EST QUE, VOYEZ-VOUS, IL FAIT NOIR,' said he.
I told him that was just my reason for requiring help.
'I understand that,' said he, looking uncomfortable; 'MAIS - C'EST
- DE LA PEINE.'
I was willing to pay, I said. He shook his head. I rose as high
as ten francs; but he continued to shake his head. 'Name your own
price, then,' said I.
'CE N'EST PAS CA,' he said at length, and with evident difficulty;
'but I am not going to cross the door - MAIS JE NE SORTIRAI PAS DE
LA PORTE.'
I grew a little warm, and asked him what he proposed that I should
do.
'Where are you going beyond Cheylard?' he asked by way of answer.
'That is no affair of yours,' I returned, for I was not going to
indulge his bestial curiosity; 'it changes nothing in my present
predicament.'
'C'EST VRAI, CA,' he acknowledged, with a laugh; 'OUI, C'EST VRAI.
ET D'OU VENEZ-VOUS?'
A better man than I might have felt nettled.
'Oh,' said I, 'I am not going to answer any of your questions, so
you may spare yourself the trouble of putting them. I am late
enough already; I want help. If you will not guide me yourself, at
least help me to find some one else who will.'
'Hold on,' he cried suddenly. 'Was it not you who passed in the
meadow while it was still day?'
'Yes, yes,' said the girl, whom I had not hitherto recognised; 'it
was monsieur; I told him to follow the cow.'
'As for you, mademoiselle,' said I, 'you are a FARCEUSE.'
'And,' added the man, 'what the devil have you done to be still
here?'
What the devil, indeed! But there I was.
'The great thing,' said I, 'is to make an end of it'; and once more
proposed that he should help me to find a guide.
'C'EST QUE,' he said again, 'C'EST QUE - IL FAIT NOIR.'
'Very well,' said I; 'take one of your lanterns.'
'No,' he cried, drawing a thought backward, and again intrenching
himself behind one of his former phrases; 'I will not cross the
door.'
I looked at him. I saw unaffected terror struggling on his face
with unaffected shame; he was smiling pitifully and wetting his lip
with his tongue, like a detected schoolboy. I drew a brief picture
of my state, and asked him what I was to do.
'I don't know,' he said; 'I will not cross the door.'
Here was the Beast of Gevaudan, and no mistake.
'Sir,' said I, with my most commanding manners, 'you are a coward.'
And with that I turned my back upon the family party, who hastened
to retire within their fortifications; and the famous door was
closed again, but not till I had overheard the sound of laughter.
FILIA BARBARA PATER BARBARIOR. Let me say it in the plural: the
Beasts of Gevaudan.
The lanterns had somewhat dazzled me, and I ploughed distressfully
among stones and rubbish-heaps. All the other houses in the
village were both dark and silent; and though I knocked at here and
there a door, my knocking was unanswered. It was a bad business; I
gave up Fouzilhac with my curses. The rain had stopped, and the
wind, which still kept rising, began to dry my coat and trousers.
'Very well,' thought I, 'water or no water, I must camp.' But the
first thing was to return to Modestine. I am pretty sure I was
twenty minutes groping for my lady in the dark; and if it had not
been for the unkindly services of the bog, into which I once more
stumbled, I might have still been groping for her at the dawn. My
next business was to gain the shelter of a wood, for the wind was
cold as well as boisterous. How, in this well-wooded district, I
should have been so long in finding one, is another of the
insoluble mysteries of this day's adventures; but I will take my
oath that I put near an hour to the discovery.
At last black trees began to show upon my left, and, suddenly
crossing the road, made a cave of unmitigated blackness right in
front. I call it a cave without exaggeration; to pass below that
arch of leaves was like entering a dungeon. I felt about until my
hand encountered a stout branch, and to this I tied Modestine, a
haggard, drenched, desponding donkey. Then I lowered my pack, laid
it along the wall on the margin of the road, and unbuckled the
straps. I knew well enough where the lantern was; but where were
the candles? I groped and groped among the tumbled articles, and,
while I was thus groping, suddenly I touched the spirit-lamp.
Salvation! This would serve my turn as well. The wind roared
unwearyingly among the trees; I could hear the boughs tossing and
the leaves churning through half a mile of forest; yet the scene of
my encampment was not only as black as the pit, but admirably
sheltered. At the second match the wick caught flame. The light
was both livid and shifting; but it cut me off from the universe,
and doubled the darkness of the surrounding night.
I tied Modestine more conveniently for herself, and broke up half
the black bread for her supper, reserving the other half against
the morning. Then I gathered what I should want within reach, took
off my wet boots and gaiters, which I wrapped in my waterproof,
arranged my knapsack for a pillow under the flap of my sleeping-
bag, insinuated my limbs into the interior, and buckled myself in
like a bambino. I opened a tin of Bologna sausage and broke a cake
of chocolate, and that was all I had to eat. It may sound
offensive, but I ate them together, bite by bite, by way of bread
and meat. All I had to wash down this revolting mixture was neat
brandy: a revolting beverage in itself. But I was rare and
hungry; ate well, and smoked one of the best cigarettes in my
experience. Then I put a stone in my straw hat, pulled the flap of
my fur cap over my neck and eyes, put my revolver ready to my hand,
and snuggled well down among the sheepskins.
I questioned at first if I were sleepy, for I felt my heart beating
faster than usual, as if with an agreeable excitement to which my
mind remained a stranger. But as soon as my eyelids touched, that
subtle glue leaped between them, and they would no more come
separate. The wind among the trees was my lullaby. Sometimes it
sounded for minutes together with a steady, even rush, not rising
nor abating; and again it would swell and burst like a great
crashing breaker, and the trees would patter me all over with big
drops from the rain of the afternoon. Night after night, in my own
bedroom in the country, I have given ear to this perturbing concert
of the wind among the woods; but whether it was a difference in the
trees, or the lie of the ground, or because I was myself outside
and in the midst of it, the fact remains that the wind sang to a
different tune among these woods of Gevaudan. I hearkened and
hearkened; and meanwhile sleep took gradual possession of my body
and subdued my thoughts and senses; but still my last waking effort
was to listen and distinguish, and my last conscious state was one
of wonder at the foreign clamour in my ears.
Twice in the course of the dark hours - once when a stone galled me
underneath the sack, and again when the poor patient Modestine,
growing angry, pawed and stamped upon the road - I was recalled for
a brief while to consciousness, and saw a star or two overhead, and
the lace-like edge of the foliage against the sky. When I awoke
for the third time (Wednesday, September 25th), the world was
flooded with a blue light, the mother of the dawn. I saw the
leaves labouring in the wind and the ribbon of the road; and, on
turning my head, there was Modestine tied to a beech, and standing
half across the path in an attitude of inimitable patience. I
closed my eyes again, and set to thinking over the experience of
the night. I was surprised to find how easy and pleasant it had
been, even in this tempestuous weather. The stone which annoyed me
would not have been there, had I not been forced to camp blindfold
in the opaque night; and I had felt no other inconvenience, except
when my feet encountered the lantern or the second volume of
Peyrat's PASTORS OF THE DESERT among the mixed contents of my
sleeping-bag; nay, more, I had felt not a touch of cold, and
awakened with unusually lightsome and clear sensations.
With that, I shook myself, got once more into my boots and gaiters,
and, breaking up the rest of the bread for Modestine, strolled
about to see in what part of the world I had awakened. Ulysses,
left on Ithaca, and with a mind unsettled by the goddess, was not
more pleasantly astray. I have been after an adventure all my
life, a pure dispassionate adventure, such as befell early and
heroic voyagers; and thus to be found by morning in a random
woodside nook in Gevaudan - not knowing north from south, as
strange to my surroundings as the first man upon the earth, an
inland castaway - was to find a fraction of my day-dreams realised.
I was on the skirts of a little wood of birch, sprinkled with a few
beeches; behind, it adjoined another wood of fir; and in front, it
broke up and went down in open order into a shallow and meadowy
dale. All around there were bare hilltops, some near, some far
away, as the perspective closed or opened, but none apparently much
higher than the rest. The wind huddled the trees. The golden
specks of autumn in the birches tossed shiveringly. Overhead the
sky was full of strings and shreds of vapour, flying, vanishing,
reappearing, and turning about an axis like tumblers, as the wind
hounded them through heaven. It was wild weather and famishing
cold. I ate some chocolate, swallowed a mouthful of brandy, and
smoked a cigarette before the cold should have time to disable my
fingers. And by the time I had got all this done, and had made my
pack and bound it on the pack-saddle, the day was tiptoe on the
threshold of the east. We had not gone many steps along the lane,
before the sun, still invisible to me, sent a glow of gold over
some cloud mountains that lay ranged along the eastern sky.
The wind had us on the stern, and hurried us bitingly forward. I
buttoned myself into my coat, and walked on in a pleasant frame of
mind with all men, when suddenly, at a corner, there was Fouzilhic
once more in front of me. Nor only that, but there was the old
gentleman who had escorted me so far the night before, running out
of his house at sight of me, with hands upraised in horror.
'My poor boy!' he cried, 'what does this mean?'
I told him what had happened. He beat his old hands like clappers
in a mill, to think how lightly he had let me go; but when he heard
of the man of Fouzilhac, anger and depression seized upon his mind.
'This time, at least,' said he, 'there shall be no mistake.'
And he limped along, for he was very rheumatic, for about half a
mile, and until I was almost within sight of Cheylard, the
destination I had hunted for so long.
