travels with a donkey in the cevennes-第4章

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her。　　If　I　were　to　reach　the　lakeside　before　dark；　she　must　bestir　

her　little　shanks　to　some　tune。　　Already　the　sun　had　gone　down　into　

a　windy…looking　mist；　and　although　there　were　still　a　few　streaks　

of　gold　far　off　to　the　east　on　the　hills　and　the　black　fir…woods；　

all　was　cold　and　grey　about　our　onward　path。　　An　infinity　of　little　

country　by…roads　led　hither　and　thither　among　the　fields。　　It　was　

the　most　pointless　labyrinth。　　I　could　see　my　destination　overhead；　

or　rather　the　peak　that　dominates　it；　but　choose　as　I　pleased；　the　

roads　always　ended　by　turning　away　from　it；　and　sneaking　back　

towards　the　valley；　or　northward　along　the　margin　of　the　hills。　　

The　failing　light；　the　waning　colour；　the　naked；　unhomely；　stony　

country　through　which　I　was　travelling；　threw　me　into　some　

despondency。　　I　promise　you；　the　stick　was　not　idle；　I　think　every　

decent　step　that　Modestine　took　must　have　cost　me　at　least　two　

emphatic　blows。　　There　was　not　another　sound　in　the　neighbourhood　

but　that　of　my　unwearying　bastinado。



Suddenly；　in　the　midst　of　my　toils；　the　load　once　more　bit　the　

dust；　and；　as　by　enchantment；　all　the　cords　were　simultaneously　

loosened；　and　the　road　scattered　with　my　dear　possessions。　　The　

packing　was　to　begin　again　from　the　beginning；　and　as　I　had　to　

invent　a　new　and　better　system；　I　do　not　doubt　but　I　lost　half　an　

hour。　　It　began　to　be　dusk　in　earnest　as　I　reached　a　wilderness　of　

turf　and　stones。　　It　had　the　air　of　being　a　road　which　should　lead　

everywhere　at　the　same　time；　and　I　was　falling　into　something　not　

unlike　despair　when　I　saw　two　figures　stalking　towards　me　over　the　

stones。　　They　walked　one　behind　the　other　like　tramps；　but　their　

pace　was　remarkable。　　The　son　led　the　way；　a　tall；　ill…made；　

sombre；　Scottish…looking　man；　the　mother　followed；　all　in　her　

Sunday's　best；　with　an　elegantly　embroidered　ribbon　to　her　cap；　and　

a　new　felt　hat　atop；　and　proffering；　as　she　strode　along　with　

kilted　petticoats；　a　string　of　obscene　and　blasphemous　oaths。



I　hailed　the　son；　and　asked　him　my　direction。　　He　pointed　loosely　

west　and　north…west；　muttered　an　inaudible　comment；　and；　without　

slackening　his　pace　for　an　instant；　stalked　on；　as　he　was　going；　

right　athwart　my　path。　　The　mother　followed　without　so　much　as　

raising　her　head。　　I　shouted　and　shouted　after　them；　but　they　

continued　to　scale　the　hillside；　and　turned　a　deaf　ear　to　my　

outcries。　　At　last；　leaving　Modestine　by　herself；　I　was　constrained　

to　run　after　them；　hailing　the　while。　　They　stopped　as　I　drew　near；　

the　mother　still　cursing；　and　I　could　see　she　was　a　handsome；　

motherly；　respectable…looking　woman。　　The　son　once　more　answered　me　

roughly　and　inaudibly；　and　was　for　setting　out　again。　　But　this　

time　I　simply　collared　the　mother；　who　was　nearest　me；　and；　

apologising　for　my　violence；　declared　that　I　could　not　let　them　go　

until　they　had　put　me　on　my　road。　　They　were　neither　of　them　

offended　…　rather　mollified　than　otherwise；　told　me　I　had　only　to　

follow　them；　and　then　the　mother　asked　me　what　I　wanted　by　the　lake　

at　such　an　hour。　　I　replied；　in　the　Scottish　manner；　by　inquiring　

if　she　had　far　to　go　herself。　　She　told　me；　with　another　oath；　that　

she　had　an　hour　and　a　half's　road　before　her。　　And　then；　without　

salutation；　the　pair　strode　forward　again　up　the　hillside　in　the　

gathering　dusk。



I　returned　for　Modestine；　pushed　her　briskly　forward；　and；　after　a　

sharp　ascent　of　twenty　minutes；　reached　the　edge　of　a　plateau。　　The　

view；　looking　back　on　my　day's　journey；　was　both　wild　and　sad。　　

Mount　Mezenc　and　the　peaks　beyond　St。　Julien　stood　out　in　trenchant　

gloom　against　a　cold　glitter　in　the　east；　and　the　intervening　field　

of　hills　had　fallen　together　into　one　broad　wash　of　shadow；　except　

here　and　there　the　outline　of　a　wooded　sugar…loaf　in　black；　here　

and　there　a　white　irregular　patch　to　represent　a　cultivated　farm；　

and　here　and　there　a　blot　where　the　Loire；　the　Gazeille；　or　the　

Laussonne　wandered　in　a　gorge。



Soon　we　were　on　a　high…road；　and　surprise　seized　on　my　mind　as　I　

beheld　a　village　of　some　magnitude　close　at　hand；　for　I　had　been　

told　that　the　neighbourhood　of　the　lake　was　uninhabited　except　by　

trout。　　The　road　smoked　in　the　twilight　with　children　driving　home　

cattle　from　the　fields；　and　a　pair　of　mounted　stride…legged　women；　

hat　and　cap　and　all；　dashed　past　me　at　a　hammering　trot　from　the　

canton　where　they　had　been　to　church　and　market。　　I　asked　one　of　

the　children　where　I　was。　　At　Bouchet　St。　Nicolas；　he　told　me。　　

Thither；　about　a　mile　south　of　my　destination；　and　on　the　other　

side　of　a　respectable　summit；　had　these　confused　roads　and　

treacherous　peasantry　conducted　me。　　My　shoulder　was　cut；　so　that　

it　hurt　sharply；　my　arm　ached　like　toothache　from　perpetual　

beating；　I　gave　up　the　lake　and　my　design　to　camp；　and　asked　for　

the　AUBERGE。







I　HAVE　A　GOAD







THE　AUBERGE　of　Bouchet　St。　Nicolas　was　among　the　least　pretentious　

I　have　ever　visited；　but　I　saw　many　more　of　the　like　upon　my　

journey。　　Indeed；　it　was　typical　of　these　French　highlands。　　

Imagine　a　cottage　of　two　stories；　with　a　bench　before　the　door；　the　

stable　and　kitchen　in　a　suite；　so　that　Modestine　and　I　could　hear　

each　other　dining；　furniture　of　the　plainest；　earthern　floors；　a　

single　bedchamber　for　travellers；　and　that　without　any　convenience　

but　beds。　　In　the　kitchen　cooking　and　eating　go　forward　side　by　

side；　and　the　family　sleep　at　night。　　Any　one　who　has　a　fancy　to　

wash　must　do　so　in　public　at　the　common　table。　　The　food　is　

sometimes　spare；　hard　fish　and　omelette　have　been　my　portion　more　

than　once；　the　wine　is　of　the　smallest；　the　brandy　abominable　to　

man；　and　the　visit　of　a　fat　sow；　grouting　under　the　table　and　

rubbing　against　your　legs；　is　no　impossible　accompaniment　to　

dinner。



But　the　people　of　the　inn；　in　nine　cases　out　of　ten；　show　

themselves　friendly　and　considerate。　　As　soon　as　you　cross　the　

doors　you　cease　to　be　a　stranger；　and　although　these　peasantry　are　

rude　and　forbidding　on　the　highway；　they　show　a　tincture　of　kind　

breeding　when　you　share　their　hearth。　　At　Bouchet；　for　instance；　I　

uncorked　my　bottle　of　Beaujolais；　and　asked　the　host　to　join　me。　　

He　would　take　but　little。



'I　am　an　amateur　of　such　wine；　do　you　see？'　he　said；　'and　I　am　

capable　of　leaving　you　not　enough。'



In　these　hedge…inns　the　traveller　is　expected　to　eat　with　his　own　

knife；　unless　he　ask；　no　other　will　be　supplied：　　with　a　glass；　a　

whang　of　bread；　and　an　iron　fork；　the　table　is　completely　laid。　　My　

knife　was　cordially　admired　by　the　landlord　of　Bouchet；　and　the　

spring　filled　him　with　wonder。



'I　should　never　have　guessed　that；'　he　said。　　'I　would　bet；'　he　

added；　weighing　it　in　his　hand；　'that　this　cost　you　not　less　than　

five　francs。'



When　I　told　him　it　had　cost　me　twenty；　his　jaw　dropped。



He　was　a　mild；　handsome；　sensible；　friendly　old　man；　astonishingly　

ignorant。　　His　wife；　who　was　not　so　pleasant　in　her　manners；　knew　

how　to　read；　although　I　do　not　suppose　she　ever　did　so。　　She　had　a　

share　of　brains　and　spoke　with　a　cutting　emphasis；　like　one　who　

ruled　the　roast。



'My　man　knows　nothing；'　she　said；　with　an　angry　nod；　'he　is　like　

the　beasts。'



And　the　old　gentleman　signified　acquiescence　with　his　head。　　There　

was　no　contempt　on　her　part；　and　no　shame　on　his；　the　facts　were　

accepted　loyally；　and　no　more　about　the　matter。



I　was　tightly　cross…examined　about　my　journey；　and　the　lady　

understood　in　a　moment；　and　sketched　out　what　I　should　put　into　my　

book　when　I　got　home。　　'Whether　people　harvest　or　not　in　such　or　

such　a　place；　if　there　were　forests；　studies　of　manners；　what；　for　

example；　I　and　the　master　of　the　house　say　to　you；　the　beauties　of　

Nature；　and　all　that。'　　And　she　interrogated　me　with　a　look。



'It　is　just　that；'　said　I。



'You　see；'　she　added　to　her　husband；　'I　understood　that。