He was indignant at the injustice of fate, and cast the blame on men,
on all men, because nature, that great, blind mother, is unjust, cruel
and perfidious, and he repeated through his clenched teeth: "A set of
hogs" as he looked at the thin gray smoke which rose from the roofs,
for it was the dinner hour. And, without considering that there is
another injustice which is human, and which is called robbery and
violence, he felt inclined to go into one of those houses to murder
the inhabitants and to sit down to table in their stead.
He said to himself: "I have no right to live now, as they are letting
me die of hunger, and yet I only ask for work--a set of hogs!" And the
pain in his limbs, the gnawing in his heart rose to his head like
terrible intoxication, and gave rise to this simple thought in his
brain: "I have the right to live because I breathe and because the air
is the common property of everybody. So nobody has the right to leave
me without bread!"
A fine, thick, icy cold rain was coming down, and he stopped and
murmured: "Oh, misery! Another month of walking before I get home." He
was indeed returning home then, for he saw that he should more easily
find work in his native town, where he was known--and he did not mind
what he did--than on the highroads, where everybody suspected him. As
the carpentering business was not prosperous, he would turn day
laborer, be a mason's hodman, a ditcher, break stones on the road. If
he only earned a franc a day, that would at any rate buy him something
to eat.
He tied the remains of his last pocket handkerchief round his neck to
prevent the cold rain from running down his back and chest, but he
soon found that it was penetrating the thin material of which his
clothes were made, and he glanced about him with the agonized look of
a man who does not know where to hide his body and to rest his head,
and has no place of shelter in the whole world.
Night came on and wrapped the country in obscurity, and in the
distance, in a meadow, he saw a dark spot on the grass; it was a cow,
and so he got over the ditch by the roadside and went up to her
without exactly knowing what he was doing. When he got close to her
she raised her great head to him, and he thought: "If I only had a jug
I could get a little milk." He looked at the cow and the cow looked at
him, and then, suddenly giving her a kick in the side, he said: "Get
up!"
The animal got up slowly, letting her heavy udders hang down. Then the
man lay down on his back between the animal's legs and drank for a
long time, squeezing her warm, swollen teats, which tasted of the
cowstall, with both hands, and he drank as long as she gave any milk.
But the icy rain began to fall more heavily, and he saw no place of
shelter on the whole of that bare plain. He was cold, and he looked at
a light which was shining among the trees in the window of a house.
The cow had lain down again heavily, and he sat down by her side and
stroked her head, grateful for the nourishment she had given him. The
animal's strong, thick breath, which came out of her nostrils like two
jets of steam in the evening air, blew on the workman's face, and he
said: "You are not cold inside there!" He put his hands on her chest
and under her stomach to find some warmth there, and then the idea
struck him that he might pass the night beside that large, warm
animal. So he found a comfortable place and laid his head on her side,
and then, as he was worn out with fatigue, fell asleep immediately.
He woke up, however, several times, with his back or his stomach half
frozen, according as he put one or the other against the animal's
flank. Then he turned over to warm and dry that part of his body which
had remained exposed to the night air, and soon went soundly to sleep
again.
The crowing of a cock woke him; the day was breaking, it was no longer
raining, and the sky was bright. The cow was resting with her muzzle
on the ground, and he stooped down, resting on his hands, to kiss
those wide, moist nostrils, and said: "Good-by, my beauty, until next
time. You are a nice animal. Good-by." Then he put on his shoes and
went off, and for two hours walked straight before him, always
following the same road, and then he felt so tired that he sat down on
the grass. It was broad daylight by that time, and the church bells
were ringing; men in blue blouses, women in white caps, some on foot,
some in carts, began to pass along the road, going to the neighboring
villages to spend Sunday with friends or relations.
A stout peasant came in sight, driving before him a score of
frightened, bleating sheep, with the help of an active dog. Randel got
up, and raising his cap, said: "You do not happen to have any work for
a man who is dying of hunger?" But the other, giving an angry look at
the vagabond, replied: "I have no work for fellows whom I meet on the
road."