BIG DUBREUIL, THE FRIEND OF THE ALLIES.
Hullin's sight was keen, and nothing escaped him; besides, for years he had been accustomed to this sort of thing; but Lagarmitte, who had never seen anything like it, was stupefied: "There are great numbers of them," he exclaimed, shaking his head.
"Bah! what does that matter?" said Hullin. "In my days we exterminated three armies of them, of fifty thousand each, in six months; we were not one against four. All that thou seest there would not have been a breakfast for us. And besides, you may be sure, we shall not have to kill them all; they will run like hares. I have seen it before."
After these remarks, he resolved to inspect his men. "Come on," he said to the herdsman.
Then the two made their way behind the abatis, following a trench made two days before in the snow, which had been frozen as hard as ice: the felled trees in front of it, formed an insurmountable barrier, which extended about six hundred mètres. Below this was the broken-up road.
On coming near, Jean-Claude saw the mountaineers of Dagsburg crouching at distances of twenty paces from each, other, in a sort of round nests which they had dug out for themselves.
All these fine fellows were sitting on their knapsacks, with their gourds to their right hand, their felts or foxskin caps drawn down upon their heads, and their guns between their knees. They had only to rise to have a clear view of the road fifty feet below, at the foot of a slippery descent.
Jean-Claude's arrival pleased them much.
"Ho, Master Hullin, shall we soon begin?"