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some reminiscences-第12章

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know why I should have been so frightfully impressed。  Of course



I know what our village dogs look likebut still。 。 。No!  At



this very day; recalling the horror and compassion of my



childhood; I ask myself whether I am right in disclosing to a



cold and fastidious world that awful episode in the family



history。  I ask myselfis it right?especially as the B。 family



had always been honourably known in a wide country…side for the



delicacy of their tastes in the matter of eating and drinking。



But upon the whole; and considering that this gastronomical



degradation overtaking a gallant young officer lies really at the



door of the Great Napoleon; I think that to cover it up by



silence would be an exaggeration of literary restraint。  Let the



truth stand here。  The responsibility rests with the Man of St。



Helena in view of his deplorable levity in the conduct of the



Russian campaign。  It was during the memorable retreat from



Moscow that Mr。 Nicholas B。; in company of two brother officers



as to whose morality and natural refinement I know nothing



bagged a dog on the outskirts of a village and subsequently



devoured him。  As far as I can remember the weapon used was a



cavalry sabre; and the issue of the sporting episode was rather



more of a matter of life and death than if it had been an



encounter with a tiger。  A picket of Cossacks was sleeping in



that village lost in the depths of the great Lithuanian forest。



The three sportsmen had observed them from a hiding…place making



themselves very much at home amongst the huts just before the



early winter darkness set in at four o'clock。  They had observed



them with disgust and perhaps with despair。  Late in the night



the rash counsels of hunger overcame the dictates of prudence。



Crawling through the snow they crept up to the fence of dry



branches which generally encloses a village in that part of



Lithuania。  What they expected to get and in what manner; and



whether this expectation was worth the risk; goodness only knows。



However; these Cossack parties; in most cases wandering without



an officer; were known to guard themselves badly and often not at



all。  In addition; the village lying at a great distance from the



line of French retreat; they could not suspect the presence of



stragglers from the Grand Army。  The three officers had strayed



away in a blizzard from the main column and had been lost for



days in the woods; which explains sufficiently the terrible



straits to which they were reduced。  Their plan was to try and



attract the attention of the peasants in that one of the huts



which was nearest to the enclosure; but as they were preparing to



venture into the very jaws of the lion; so to speak; a dog (it is



mighty strange that there was but one); a creature quite as



formidable under the circumstances as a lion; began to bark on



the other side of the fence。 。 。







At this stage of the narrative; which I heard many times (by



request) from the lips of Captain Nicholas B。's sister…in…law; my



grandmother; I used to tremble with excitement。







The dog barked。  And if he had done no more than bark three



officers of the Great Napoleon's army would have perished



honourably on the points of Cossack's lances; or perchance



escaping the chase would have died decently of starvation。  But



before they had time to think of running away; that fatal and



revolting dog; being carried away by the excess of his zeal;



dashed out through a gap in the fence。  He dashed out and died。



His head; I understand; was severed at one blow from his body。  I



understand also that later on; within the gloomy solitudes of the



snow…laden woods; when; in a sheltering hollow; a fire had been



lit by the party; the condition of the quarry was discovered to



be distinctly unsatisfactory。  It was not thinon the contrary;



it seemed unhealthily obese; its skin showed bare patches of an



unpleasant character。  However; they had not killed that dog for



the sake of the pelt。  He was large。 。 。He was eaten。 。 。The rest



is silence。 。 。







A silence in which a small boy shudders and says firmly:







〃I could not have eaten that dog。〃







And his grandmother remarks with a smile:







〃Perhaps you don't know what it is to be hungry。〃







I have learned something of it since。  Not that I have been



reduced to eat dog。  I have fed on the emblematical animal;



which; in the language of the volatile Gauls; is called la vache



enragee; I have lived on ancient salt junk; I know the taste of



shark; of trepang; of snake; of nondescript dishes containing



things without a namebut of the Lithuanian village dognever!



I wish it to be distinctly understood that it is not I but my



grand…uncle Nicholas; of the Polish landed gentry; Chevalier de



la Legion d'Honneur; &c。 &c。; who; in his young days; had eaten



the Lithuanian dog。







I wish he had not。  The childish horror of the deed clings



absurdly to the grizzled man。  I am perfectly helpless against



it。  Still if he really had to; let us charitably remember that



he had eaten him on active service; while bearing up bravely



against the greatest military disaster of modern history; and; in



a manner; for the sake of his country。  He had eaten him to



appease his hunger no doubt; but also for the sake of an



unappeasable and patriotic desire; in the glow of a great faith



that lives still; and in the pursuit of a great illusion kindled



like a false beacon by a great man to lead astray the effort of a



brave nation。







Pro patria!







Looked at in that light it appears a sweet and decorous meal。







And looked at in the same light my own diet of la vache enragee



appears a fatuous and extravagant form of self…indulgence; for



why should I; the son of a land which such men as these have



turned up with their ploughshares and bedewed with their blood;



undertake the pursuit of fantastic meals of salt junk and hard



tack upon the wide seas?  On the kindest view it seems an



unanswerable question。  Alas! I have the conviction that there



are men of unstained rectitude who are ready to murmur scornfully



the word desertion。  Thus the taste of innocent adventure may be



made bitter to the palate。  The part of the inexplicable should



be allowed for in appraising the conduct of men in a world where



no explanation is final。  No charge of faithlessness ought to be



lightly uttered。  The appearances of this perishable life are



deceptive like everything that falls under the judgment of our



imperfect senses。  The inner voice may remain true enough in its



secret counse
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