The first night of his arrival, he began it himself,
and, under the pretext of examining the country round,
he went along the high road.
I must tell you, that the little village which served
as our fortress was a small collection of poor, badly
built houses, which had been deserted long before.
It lay on a steep slope, which terminated in a wooded
plain. The country people sell the wood; they
send it down the ravines, which are called coulees,
locally, and which lead down to the plain, and there
they stack it into piles, which they sell thrice a
year to the wood merchants. The spot where this
market is held, is indicated by two small houses by
the side of the high road, and which serve for public-houses.
The captain had gone down there by one of these coulees.
He had been gone about half-an-hour, and we were on
the look-out at the top of the ravine when we heard
a shot. The captain had ordered us not to stir,
and only to come to him when we heard him blow his
trumpet. It was made of a goat’s horn,
and could be heard a league off, but it gave no sound,
and in spite of our cruel anxiety we were obliged to
wait in silence, with out rifles by our side.
It is nothing to go down these coulees; one
need only let oneself glide down, but it is more difficult
to get up again; one has to scramble up by catching
hold of the hanging branches of the trees, and sometimes
on all fours, by sheer strength. A whole mortal
hour passed and he did not come, nothing moved in
the brushwood. The captain’s wife began
to grow impatient; what could he be doing? Why
did he not call us? Did the shot that we had
heard proceed from an enemy, and had he killed or
wounded our leader, her husband? They did not
know what to think, but I myself fancied, either that
he was dead, or that his enterprise was successful,
and I was merely anxious and curious to know what he
had done.
Suddenly we heard the sound of his trumpet, and we
were much surprised that instead of coming from below,
as we had expected, it came from the village behind
us. What did that mean? It was a mystery
to us, but the same idea struck us all, that he had
been killed, and that the Prussians were blowing the
trumpet to draw us into an ambush. We therefore
returned to the cottage, keeping a careful look out,
with our fingers on the trigger, and hiding under
the branches, but his wife, in spite of our entreaties,
rushed on, leaping like a tigress. She thought
that she had to avenge her husband, and had fixed
the bayonet to her rifle, and we lost sight of her
at the moment that we heard the trumpet again, and
a few moments later we heard her calling out to us:
“Come on! come on! he is alive! it is he!”
We hastened on, and saw the captain smoking his pipe
at the entrance of the village, but strangely enough
he was on horseback.
