The scar is now fully visible to me, it is like a livid crown. Oh! I do not mind his madness. Now’s the time. Jump on him, and carry him off!
I come out of the thicket stealthily. Hallo! somebody has already been digging here! A heap of earth, which has become gray, shows that my yellow-haired gentleman is only resuming some old bit of work. Well! Well!
I bend my legs and get ready to jump.
The man then utters a grunt of pleasure, and what do I see in the hole he has made—an old shoe that he has just unearthed! Ah! poor humanity!
I jumped. I have got him, the rascal. Good Lord! he turns round and thrusts me away, but I shall not leave go. It is queer how awkward he is with his hands.
Ah! would you bite, you devil!
I grasp him hard enough to break his bones. He has never done any wrestling, that is clear, but I have not got the better of him yet. Ah! I have made a wrong step! it is the hole....
I am walking on the old boot. Horror! There is something in it—something which is fastening it to the ground. I am beginning to pant. “Nothing fits a foot like a shoe.”
I must have done with this. The moments are golden.
Each clasping the other, my adversary and I are face to face, in front of the rock, gasping—equally matched.... Ah! an idea. I opened my eyes terribly wide, as if it were a matter of subduing a child, or a beast. I put on the dominating look of a master, whereupon, the other let go of his hold, quite tamed, and repentant—and if he is not licking my hands in token of obedience!