travels with a donkey in the cevennes-第11章

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is　one　stirring　hour　unknown　to　those　who　dwell　in　houses；　when　a　

wakeful　influence　goes　abroad　over　the　sleeping　hemisphere；　and　all　

the　outdoor　world　are　on　their　feet。　　It　is　then　that　the　cock　

first　crows；　not　this　time　to　announce　the　dawn；　but　like　a　

cheerful　watchman　speeding　the　course　of　night。　　Cattle　awake　on　

the　meadows；　sheep　break　their　fast　on　dewy　hillsides；　and　change　

to　a　new　lair　among　the　ferns；　and　houseless　men；　who　have　lain　

down　with　the　fowls；　open　their　dim　eyes　and　behold　the　beauty　of　

the　night。



At　what　inaudible　summons；　at　what　gentle　touch　of　Nature；　are　all　

these　sleepers　thus　recalled　in　the　same　hour　to　life？　　Do　the　

stars　rain　down　an　influence；　or　do　we　share　some　thrill　of　mother　

earth　below　our　resting　bodies？　　Even　shepherds　and　old　country…

folk；　who　are　the　deepest　read　in　these　arcana；　have　not　a　guess　as　

to　the　means　or　purpose　of　this　nightly　resurrection。　　Towards　two　

in　the　morning　they　declare　the　thing　takes　place；　and　neither　know　

nor　inquire　further。　　And　at　least　it　is　a　pleasant　incident。　　We　

are　disturbed　in　our　slumber　only；　like　the　luxurious　Montaigne；　

'that　we　may　the　better　and　more　sensibly　relish　it。'　　We　have　a　

moment　to　look　upon　the　stars。　　And　there　is　a　special　pleasure　for　

some　minds　in　the　reflection　that　we　share　the　impulse　with　all　

outdoor　creatures　in　our　neighbourhood；　that　we　have　escaped　out　of　

the　Bastille　of　civilisation；　and　are　become；　for　the　time　being；　a　

mere　kindly　animal　and　a　sheep　of　Nature's　flock。



When　that　hour　came　to　me　among　the　pines；　I　wakened　thirsty。　　My　

tin　was　standing　by　me　half　full　of　water。　　I　emptied　it　at　a　

draught；　and　feeling　broad　awake　after　this　internal　cold　

aspersion；　sat　upright　to　make　a　cigarette。　　The　stars　were　clear；　

coloured；　and　jewel…like；　but　not　frosty。　　A　faint　silvery　vapour　

stood　for　the　Milky　Way。　　All　around　me　the　black　fir…points　stood　

upright　and　stock…still。　　By　the　whiteness　of　the　pack…saddle；　I　

could　see　Modestine　walking　round　and　round　at　the　length　of　her　

tether；　I　could　hear　her　steadily　munching　at　the　sward；　but　there　

was　not　another　sound；　save　the　indescribable　quiet　talk　of　the　

runnel　over　the　stones。　　I　lay　lazily　smoking　and　studying　the　

colour　of　the　sky；　as　we　call　the　void　of　space；　from　where　it　

showed　a　reddish　grey　behind　the　pines　to　where　it　showed　a　glossy　

blue…black　between　the　stars。　　As　if　to　be　more　like　a　pedlar；　I　

wear　a　silver　ring。　　This　I　could　see　faintly　shining　as　I　raised　

or　lowered　the　cigarette；　and　at　each　whiff　the　inside　of　my　hand　

was　illuminated；　and　became　for　a　second　the　highest　light　in　the　

landscape。



A　faint　wind；　more　like　a　moving　coolness　than　a　stream　of　air；　

passed　down　the　glade　from　time　to　time；　so　that　even　in　my　great　

chamber　the　air　was　being　renewed　all　night　long。　　I　thought　with　

horror　of　the　inn　at　Chasserades　and　the　congregated　nightcaps；　

with　horror　of　the　nocturnal　prowesses　of　clerks　and　students；　of　

hot　theatres　and　pass…keys　and　close　rooms。　　I　have　not　often　

enjoyed　a　more　serene　possession　of　myself；　nor　felt　more　

independent　of　material　aids。　　The　outer　world；　from　which　we　cower　

into　our　houses；　seemed　after　all　a　gentle　habitable　place；　and　

night　after　night　a　man's　bed；　it　seemed；　was　laid　and　waiting　for　

him　in　the　fields；　where　God　keeps　an　open　house。　　I　thought　I　had　

rediscovered　one　of　those　truths　which　are　revealed　to　savages　and　

hid　from　political　economists：　　at　the　least；　I　had　discovered　a　

new　pleasure　for　myself。　　And　yet　even　while　I　was　exulting　in　my　

solitude　I　became　aware　of　a　strange　lack。　　I　wished　a　companion　to　

lie　near　me　in　the　starlight；　silent　and　not　moving；　but　ever　

within　touch。　　For　there　is　a　fellowship　more　quiet　even　than　

solitude；　and　which；　rightly　understood；　is　solitude　made　perfect。　　

And　to　live　out　of　doors　with　the　woman　a　man　loves　is　of　all　lives　

the　most　complete　and　free。



As　I　thus　lay；　between　content　and　longing；　a　faint　noise　stole　

towards　me　through　the　pines。　　I　thought；　at　first；　it　was　the　

crowing　of　cocks　or　the　barking　of　dogs　at　some　very　distant　farm；　

but　steadily　and　gradually　it　took　articulate　shape　in　my　ears；　

until　I　became　aware　that　a　passenger　was　going　by　upon　the　high…

road　in　the　valley；　and　singing　loudly　as　he　went。　　There　was　more　

of　good…will　than　grace　in　his　performance；　but　he　trolled　with　

ample　lungs；　and　the　sound　of　his　voice　took　hold　upon　the　hillside　

and　set　the　air　shaking　in　the　leafy　glens。　　I　have　heard　people　

passing　by　night　in　sleeping　cities；　some　of　them　sang；　one；　I　

remember；　played　loudly　on　the　bagpipes。　　I　have　heard　the　rattle　

of　a　cart　or　carriage　spring　up　suddenly　after　hours　of　stillness；　

and　pass；　for　some　minutes；　within　the　range　of　my　hearing　as　I　lay　

abed。　　There　is　a　romance　about　all　who　are　abroad　in　the　black　

hours；　and　with　something　of　a　thrill　we　try　to　guess　their　

business。　　But　here　the　romance　was　double：　　first；　this　glad　

passenger；　lit　internally　with　wine；　who　sent　up　his　voice　in　music　

through　the　night；　and　then　I；　on　the　other　hand；　buckled　into　my　

sack；　and　smoking　alone　in　the　pine…woods　between　four　and　five　

thousand　feet　towards　the　stars。



When　I　awoke　again　（Sunday；　29th　September）；　many　of　the　stars　had　

disappeared；　only　the　stronger　companions　of　the　night　still　burned　

visibly　overhead；　and　away　towards　the　east　I　saw　a　faint　haze　of　

light　upon　the　horizon；　such　as　had　been　the　Milky　Way　when　I　was　

last　awake。　　Day　was　at　hand。　　I　lit　my　lantern；　and　by　its　glow…

worm　light　put　on　my　boots　and　gaiters；　then　I　broke　up　some　bread　

for　Modestine；　filled　my　can　at　the　water…tap；　and　lit　my　spirit…

lamp　to　boil　myself　some　chocolate。　　The　blue　darkness　lay　long　in　

the　glade　where　I　had　so　sweetly　slumbered；　but　soon　there　was　a　

broad　streak　of　orange　melting　into　gold　along　the　mountain…tops　of　

Vivarais。　　A　solemn　glee　possessed　my　mind　at　this　gradual　and　

lovely　coming　in　of　day。　　I　heard　the　runnel　with　delight；　I　looked　

round　me　for　something　beautiful　and　unexpected；　but　the　still　

black　pine…trees；　the　hollow　glade；　the　munching　ass；　remained　

unchanged　in　figure。　　Nothing　had　altered　but　the　light；　and　that；　

indeed；　shed　over　all　a　spirit　of　life　and　of　breathing　peace；　and　

moved　me　to　a　strange　exhilaration。



I　drank　my　water…chocolate；　which　was　hot　if　it　was　not　rich；　and　

strolled　here　and　there；　and　up　and　down　about　the　glade。　　While　I　

was　thus　delaying；　a　gush　of　steady　wind；　as　long　as　a　heavy　sigh；　

poured　direct　out　of　the　quarter　of　the　morning。　　It　was　cold；　and　

set　me　sneezing。　　The　trees　near　at　hand　tossed　their　black　plumes　

in　its　passage；　and　I　could　see　the　thin　distant　spires　of　pine　

along　the　edge　of　the　hill　rock　slightly　to　and　fro　against　the　

golden　east。　　Ten　minutes　after；　the　sunlight　spread　at　a　gallop　

along　the　hillside；　scattering　shadows　and　sparkles；　and　the　day　

had　come　completely。



I　hastened　to　prepare　my　pack；　and　tackle　the　steep　ascent　that　lay　

before　me；　but　I　had　something　on　my　mind。　　It　was　only　a　fancy；　

yet　a　fancy　will　sometimes　be　importunate。　　I　had　been　most　

hospitably　received　and　punctually　served　in　my　green　caravanserai。　　

The　room　was　airy；　the　water　excellent；　and　the　dawn　had　called　me　

to　a　moment。　　I　say　nothing　of　the　tapestries　or　the　inimitable　

ceiling；　nor　yet　of　the　view　which　I　commanded　from　the　windows；　

but　I　felt　I　was　in　some　one's　debt　for　all　this　liberal　

entertainment。　　And　so　it　pleased　me；　in　a　half…laughing　way；　to　

leave　pieces　of　money　on　the　turf　as　I　went　along；　until　I　had　left　

enough　for　my　night's　lodging。　　I　trust　they　did　not　fall　to　some　

rich　and　churlish　drover。







THE　COUNTRY　OF　THE　CAMISARDS





We　travelled　in　the　print　of　olden　wars；

Yet　all　the　land　was　green；

And　love　we　found；　and　peace；

Where　fire　and　war　had　been。

They　pass　and　smile；　the　children　of　the　sword　…

No　more　the　sword　they　wield；

And　O；　how　deep　the　corn

Along　the　battlefield！



W。　P。　BANNATYNE。







THE　COUNTRY　OF　THE　CAMISARDS







ACROSS　THE　LOZERE





THE　track　that　I　had　followed　in　the　evening　soon　died　out；　and　I　

continued　to　follow　over　a　bald　turf　ascent　a　row　of　stone　pillars；　

such　as　had　conducted　me　across　the　Goulet。　　It　was　already　warm。　　

I　tied　my　jacket　on　the　pack；　and　walked　in　my　knitted　waistcoat。　　

Modestine　herself　was　in　high　spirits；　and　broke　of　her　own　accord；　

for　the　first　time　in　my　experience；　into　a　jolting　trot　that　set　

the　oats　swashing　in　the　pocket　of　my　coat。　　The　view；　back　upon　

the　northern　Gevaudan；　extended　with　every　step；　scarce　a　tree；　

scarce　a　house；　appeared　upon　the　fields　of　wild　hill　that　ran　

north；　east；　and　west；　all　blue　and　gold　in　the　haze　and　sunlight　

of　the　morning。　A　multitude　of　little　birds　kept　sweeping　and　

twittering　about　my　path；　they　perched　on　the　stone　pillars；　they　

pecked　and　strutted　on　the　turf；　and　I　saw　them　circle　in　volleys　

in　the　blue　air；　and　show；　from　time　to　time；　translucent　

flickering　wings　between　the　sun　and　me。



Almost　from　the　first　moment　of　my　march；　a　faint　large　noise；　like　

a　distant　surf；　had　filled　my　ears。　　Sometimes　I　was　tempted　to　

think　it　the　voice　of　a　neighbouring　waterfall；　and　sometimes　a　

subjective　result　of　the　utter　stillness　of　the　hill。　　But　as　I　

continued　to　advance；　the　noise　increased；　and　became　like　the　

hissing　of　an　enormous　tea…urn；　and　at　the　same　time　breaths　of　

cool　air　began　to　reach　me　from　the　direction　of　the　summit。　　At　

length　I　understood。　　It　was　blowing　stiffly　from　the　south　upon　

the　other　slope　of　the　Lozere；　and　every　step　that　I　took　I　was　

drawing　nearer　to　the　wind。



Although　it　had　been　long　desired；　it　was　quite　unexpectedly　at　

last　that　my　eyes　rose　above　the　summit。　　A　step　that　seemed　no　way　

more　decisive　than　many　other　steps　that　had　preceded　it　…　and；　

'like　stout　Cortez　when；　with　eagle　eyes；　he　stared　on　the　

Pacific；'　I　took　possession；　in　my　own　name；　of　a　new　quarter　of　

the　world。　　For　behold；　instead　of　the　gross　turf　rampart　I　had　

been　mounting　for　so　long；　a　view　into　the　hazy　air　of　heaven；　and　

a　land　of　intricate　blue　hills　below　my　feet。



The　Lozere　lies　nearly　east　and　west；　cutting　Gevaudan　into　two　

unequal　parts；　its　highest　point；　this　Pic　de　Finiels；　on　which　I　

was　then　standing；　rises　upwards　of　five　thousand　six　hundred　feet　

above　the　sea；　and　in　clear　weather　commands　a　view　over　all　lower　

Languedoc　to　the　Mediterranean　Sea。　　I　have　spoken　with　people　who　

either　pretended　or　believed　that　they　had　seen；　from　the　Pie　de　

Finiels；　white　ships　sailing　by　Montpellier　and　Cette。　　Behind　was　

the　upland　northern　country　through　which　my　way　had　lain；　peopled　

by　a　dull　race；　without　wood；　without　much　grandeur　of　hill