The Invasion of France in 1814

It was a strange sight.

Robin said to himself: – "The fool sees nothing, hears nothing; they will devour him. If he stumbles, if his foot slips, it is all over with him."

But in the middle of the gorge, Yégof, having turned round, sat down upon a stone, and the five wolves round him, still sniffing the air, squatted on their haunches in the snow.

And then, a really terrible sight – the fool raising his sceptre, made them a speech, calling them each by his name.

The wolves answered him with dismal howls.

Now this is what he said to them: – "Hé, Child, Bléd, Merweg, and thou, Sirimar, my ancient, we are met together, then, once again! You have returned fat. There has been good cheer in Germany, eh?"

Then, pointing to the snow-covered gorge: – "You remember the great battle?"

First one of the wolves began to howl slowly in a dismal voice, then another, then all the five together.

This lasted a good ten minutes.

The raven, perched on the withered branch, did not stir.

Robin would gladly have fled. He put up his prayers, invoked all the saints, and, in particular, his own patron, for whom all the shepherds of the mountain have the highest veneration.

But the wolves still continued howling, awakening all the echoes of the Blutfeld.

At last one, the oldest of the number, was silent, then another, then all, and Yégof continued: – "Yes, yes: that is a dismal story. Look! there is the river down which our blood flowed in streams! No matter, Merweg, no matter; the others have left their bones to whiten on the common, and the cold moon has seen their women tearing their hair for three days and three nights! Oh, that frightful day! Oh, the dogs! were they proud of their great victory? Let them be accursed – accursed."

The fool had cast his crown to the ground. He now picked it up, groaning as he did so.

The wolves, still crouching round, listened to him like attentive spectators. The biggest among them began to howl, and Yégof answered his complaint.

"You are hungry, Sirimar; take comfort, take comfort; you will not want for food much longer; the men of our side are coming, and the strife will begin afresh."

Then rising, and striking his sceptre on a stone, "See," said he, "behold thy bones!"

He approached another. "And thine, Merweg, behold them!" said he.

All the troop followed him, while he, raising himself upon a low rock, and glancing round upon the silent gorge, exclaimed: – "Our war-song is silent! our war-song is now a groan! The hour is near; it will reawaken, and you will be among the warriors; you will possess once more these valleys and these mountains. Oh! that sound of wheels, those cries of women, those blows from crushing rocks and stones; I hear them; the air is full of them. Yes, yes; they fell on us from above, and we were surrounded. And now all is dead; hear! all is dead; your bones sleep, but your children are on their way, and your turn will come. Sing! sing!"

And this time he himself began to howl, while the wolves took up again their savage song.

These dismal howls grew more and more loud and appalling; and the silence of the rocks around, some plunged in darkness, while others were fully revealed in the moon's rays, the solemn stillness of every tree and shrub beneath its weight of snow, the distant echoes replying with a sad voice to the mournful concert, all were calculated to strike terror into the breast of the old shepherd.

But by degrees his fears grew less, for Yégof and his gloomy procession were getting farther and farther away from him, and gradually retreating toward Hazlach.

The raven, in his turn, with a hoarse cry unfurled his wings, and took his flight through the sky.

The whole scene vanished like a dream.

Robin heard for a long while after the howlings of the retreating wolves. They had completely ceased for more than twenty minutes. The silence of winter reigned on all sides, when the worthy man felt himself sufficiently recovered from his fright to come out of his hiding-place, and take his way back at full speed to the farm.

On arriving at Bois-de-Chênes, he found everybody stirring. They were preparing to kill an ox for the troops from the Donon. Hullin, Doctor Lorquin, and Louise were already set out with those from the Sarre. Catherine Lefèvre was loading her great four-horse wagon with bread, meat, and brandy. People were coming and going in all directions, and all lending a helping hand in the preparations.

Robin could not bring himself to relate to any one all that he had seen and heard. Besides, it seemed to himself so incredible that he really dared not open his mouth about it.

When he had retired to rest in his crib in the middle of the stable, he said to himself that no doubt Yégof had, during the winter, tamed a litter of young wolves, and that he talked nonsense to them just as one talks sometimes to one's dog.

But, for all that, this strange encounter left a superstitious dread upon his mind, and even when he had arrived at a great age, the old fellow never spoke of these things without shuddering.

CHAPTER XI

A RECONNOISSANCE

Hullin's orders had all been carried out; the defiles of the Zorne and of the Sarre were well guarded; while that of Blanru, the extreme point of the position, had been put into a state of defence by Jean-Claude himself and the three hundred men who composed his principal force.

We must now transport ourselves to the southern slopes of the Donon, two kilomètres from Grandfontaine, and await further events.

Above the high-road which winds round the hillside up to within two-thirds of the summit, was a farm, surrounded with a few acres of tilled land, the freehold of Pelsly the anabaptist: it was a large building with a flat roof, much needed, so as to prevent its being blown away by the high winds. The out-houses and pigsties were situated at the back, toward the summit of the mountain.

The partisans were encamped near: at their feet lay Grandfontaine and Framont; in a narrow gorge farther on, at the point where the valley takes a turn, rose Schirmeck and its old mass of feudal ruins; lastly, among the undulations of the chain, the Bruche disappears in a zigzag, under the grayish mists of Alsace. To their left arose the arid peak of the Donon, covered with rocks and a few stunted pines. Before them was the rugged road, its shelving banks thrown down over the snow, and great trees flung across it with all their branches.

The melting snow let the yellow soil be seen in patches here and there, or else formed great drifts, heaped up by the north wind.

It was a grand and severe spectacle. Not a single traveller, not a carriage appeared along the whole length of the road in the valley, winding as far as the eye can reach: it was like a desert. The fires scattered round the farm-house sent up their puffs of damp smoke to the sky, and alone indicated the position of the bivouac.

The mountaineers, seated by their kettles, with their hats slouched over their faces, were very melancholy: three days they had been awaiting the enemy. Among one of the groups, sitting with their legs doubled up, bent shoulders, and pipes in their mouths were old Materne and his two sons.

From time to time Louise appeared on the step of the farm, then quickly re-entered, and set herself again to her work. A great cock was scratching up the manure with his claws, and crowing hoarsely; two or three fowls were strutting up and down among the bushes. All that was pleasant to look upon; but the chief pleasure of the partisans was to contemplate some magnificent quarters of bacon, with red-and-white sides, which were spitted on greenwood sticks, the fat melting drop by drop on to the small coals – and to fill their flasks at a small cask of brandy placed on Catherine Lefèvre's cart.

Toward eight o'clock in the morning a man suddenly appeared between the great and little Donon; the sentinels perceived him at once; he descended, waving his hat.

A few minutes later Nickel Bentz, the old forest-keeper of the Houpe, was recognized.

The whole camp was roused; they ran to awaken Hullin, who had been sleeping for an hour in the farm-house, on a great straw mattress, side by side with Doctor Lorquin and his dog Pluto.

The three came out, accompanied by the herdsman Lagarmitte, nicknamed Trumpet, and the anabaptist Pelsly – a silent man, having his arms buried to the elbows in the deep pockets of his gray woollen tunic trimmed with pewter clasps, with an immense beard, and the tassel of his cotton cap half way down his back.

Jean-Claude seemed light-hearted. "Well, Nickel, what is going on down there?" cried he.

"At present, nothing new, Master Jean-Claude; only on the Phalsbourg side one hears something like the rumbling of a storm. Labarbe says that it is cannon, for all night we have seen flashes through the forest of Hildehouse, and since the morning gray clouds have been spreading over the plain."

"The town is attacked," said Hullin; "but what about the Lutzelstein side?"

"One can hear nothing," replied Bentz.

"Then the enemy is trying to turn the place. In any case, the allies are down there: there must be hosts of them in Alsace." And turning toward Materne, who was standing behind him, "We cannot remain any longer in uncertainty," said he; "thou, with thy two sons, go on a reconnoissance."

The old hunter's face brightened. "So be it! I can stretch my legs a little," said he, "and see if I can't knock over one of those rascally Austrians or Cossacks."

"Stop an instant, my old fellow! it is not now a question of knocking anybody over; we want to see what is going on. Frantz and Kasper will remain armed; but I know thee: thou must leave thy carbine here, thy powder-flask, and thy hunting-knife."