Chapter 7 Chapter VII

It was 10 o'clock in the evening.Kerabon, Van Mittern and Bruno took some food out of the boxes strapped to the car for dinner, and walked for about half an hour, smoking cigarettes, along a small trail where the ground didn't sink under their feet. "Now," said Van Mettaine, "I suppose you will have no objection, my friend Kerabon, that we shall sleep till the arrival of the supplementary horses?" "I don't see any objection," Kerabong replied after consideration, a bit unusual for a man who never lacked for objections. "I would like to believe that in this absolute wilderness," added the Dutchman, "we have nothing to fear?"

"I'd like to believe that too." "No attacks of any concern?" "No……" "But that's in addition to mosquito attacks!" said Bruno, who had just slapped himself on the forehead and killed half a dozen of these dipteran insects. Indeed, perhaps attracted by the light, these extremely voracious insects flew in groups and began to circle the carriage recklessly. "Well!" said van Mettaine, "there are so many mosquitoes here that a mosquito net is not superfluous!" "It's not a mosquito at all," said Lord Kerabong, scratching the underside of his neck. "What we lack is not a mosquito net at all!"

"Then what is this?" asked the Dutchman. "A cousin," Kerabong replied, "these so-called mosquitoes are cousins!" "Damn it if I can tell the difference!" thought Van Mittel, who did not see the need to start a debate on this purely entomological question. "Interestingly," Kerabong points out, "only the females of these insects sting." "I recognize the representatives of these women very well!" Bruno said, scratching his calf. "I think we'd be wiser to get back in the car," said Van Mettaine, "or we'll be devoured!"

"That's right," replied Kerabon, "these cousins ​​are especially bad in the lower Danube region, and the only way to prevent them is to remove the pyrethrum in bed at night and in shirts and socks during the day..." "Unfortunately we don't have anything like that!" continued the Dutchman. "Not at all," Kerabong replied. "But who would have guessed that we would find ourselves in this predicament in the swamps of Dobroga?" "No one expected it, my friend Kerabong." "I have heard, my friend Van Mettain, that a colony of the Tatars in the Crimea, which the Turkish government gave them a large area in the delta of this river, was driven out by these cousin regiments. out."

"Based on what we've seen, this history is by no means unreliable!" "Then get back to the carriage!" "We've just been on the ground too long!" replied Van Mittern, restless to the hum of his wings, which fluttered millions of times a second. Lord Kerabong stopped again just as he was about to get into the car with his companion. "Although there is nothing to worry about," he said, "it would be better to keep Bruno on watch until the coachman returns." "He will not refuse," replied Van Mettaine. "I will not refuse," said Bruno, "because it is my duty not to refuse, and I shall be eaten alive!"

"No!" Kerabong retorted. "I can't help but say that these cousins ​​are not stung twice in the same place, so Bruno will not be stung again in a second!" "Yes!...after I've been stung a thousand times!" "That's what I mean, Bruno!" "But I can at least keep watch in the compartment?" "It's absolutely fine, as long as you don't sleep in it!" "How can I sleep in the midst of such a horrible swarm of mosquitoes?" "Cousins, Bruno," replied Kerabon, "only cousins! . . . Don't forget that!"

With these words, Lord Kerabon and Van Mittaine entered the carriage, leaving Bruno to watch for his master, or rather for his masters.Couldn't he consider himself to have two masters since Kerabon and Van Mettayn had met? After making sure that the door of the carriage was closed, Bruno looked at the horses harnessed to the carriage.Exhausted from exhaustion, they lay panting loudly on the ground, and their hot breath mingled with the mist of the swamp. "The devil can't pull them out of this rut!" thought Bruno. "It should be admitted that Master Kelabang took this path out of his heart! In short, it has something to do with him!"

Bruno climbed back into the small compartment with the windows down, through which he could see clearly the place illuminated by the beam of the lantern. What better thing for a servant of Van Metertain to do than keep his eyes open, and fight sleep with wild thoughts, and think of the series of adventures his master took him after the most obstinate Ottomans. ? "In this way, he, a child of ancient times, a wanderer on the streets of Rotterdam, a frequent visitor to the pier of Meuse, an experienced fisherman, a man with nothing to do by the canals that criss-cross the city in his hometown , was sent to the other end of Europe! From the Netherlands to the Ottoman Empire, he crossed in one go! And just landed in Constantinople, fate threw him on the wilderness of the lower reaches of the Danube! In Dobroga One night in the midst of the moor he found himself in the cabin of a stagecoach sunken deeper in the earth than Zuydek's Gothic belfry! And all because he had to obey his master , and his master, though not compelled, must also obey Lord Kailabon."

"Oh! what a strange human quarrel!" repeated Bruno. "I'm circling the Black Sea now, and we'd never do it for ten balas. I'd gladly pay for it, if I'd thought ahead and paid without the knowledge of the most impatient Turk. Money is all right! Ah, stubborn man! Stubborn man! I'm sure I've lost two pounds since I set out! . . . in only four days! . Ah! Those damned mosquitoes again!" No matter how tightly Bruno closed the windows, a dozen Culex mosquitoes got in and attacked the poor man.There was no way Lord Kerabong could hear him slapping and tickling, busy with the mosquitoes.

An hour passed like this, and another hour passed.Had it not been for the irritating onslaught of these mosquitoes, perhaps Bruno, exhausted, would have fallen asleep?However, it is impossible to sleep in this environment. It was probably just after midnight when Bruno hit upon an idea.He should have thought of it even sooner, because he was a pure-blood Dutchman, born to look for pipes and not for nurse's breasts.The idea is to smoke, to stop the mosquitoes with a puff of smoke.How did he not think of it sooner?If they could stand up to the smell of niacin that he was about to spray all over the cabin, it would show that the mosquitoes in the marshes of the lower Danube had tenacious vitality.

Bruno then took from his pocket his ceramic pipe, decorated with enamelled flowers—the same pipe he had so shamelessly robbed in Constantinople.He stuffed his pipe with tobacco, like a bullet ready to fire at an enemy: he then lit it with his lighter, took a deep puff of Dutch premium tobacco, and exhaled a huge smoke ring. At first the mosquitoes flapped their wings desperately and made a deafening buzz, then gradually retreated into the darkest corners of the carriage. Bruno could only be satisfied with his means.The trick he had just adopted was ingenious, and the attackers were retreating hastily.But he didn't want to capture prisoners, instead he immediately opened the window to give the mosquitoes a way out, because he knew very well that a puff of smoke was enough to block the mosquitoes outside. After Bruno did this, he was able to get rid of this entangled dipteran army, and he could even take a risk to see the situation on the left and right. The night was still so dark.There was a gust of wind, and the car shook sometimes, but it was firmly planted, too firmly, so that there was no fear of it tipping over. Bruno looked as far ahead as he could, to see if there was a light on the northern horizon that would signal the return of the coachman with his replenishment of horses.But from a distance to the front of the carriage beyond the range of the lights, it was pitch black, and you couldn't see your fingers.But when he turned his gaze to the side, at a distance of about sixty paces Bruno believed to have glimpsed points of light moving silently and swiftly through the darkness, now close to the ground, now two or three feet above it. . At first, Bruno wondered if it was the phosphorescence of will-o'-the-wisps, because the swamp must contain hydrogen sulfide, and phosphorous fires would be produced on the ground. But if he is good at reasoning, and his reason may lead him to make mistakes in judgment, the horses pulling the cart are not like this, their instinct will not mistake the cause of this phenomenon.Indeed, they began to appear restless, flapping their nostrils, and snorting uncharacteristically. "Hey! What's the matter?" thought Bruno. "There must be some trouble again! Could it be a wolf?" It is by no means out of the question that this was a pack of wolves attracted by the smell of the horses.These voracious animals are abundant in the Danube Delta. "Damn it!" said Bruno to himself, "that's worse than our obstinate man's mosquito or Culex mosquito! This time the smoke won't do anything to them!" At this time the horses had already felt a strong uneasiness, which could not but attract their attention.They tried to kick and rear up on their hind legs in the thick mud, shaking the car violently.The points of light seemed to be approaching, and a low cry was mixed with the whistling of the wind. "I think," Bruno thought, "it's time to inform Lord Kerabon and my master!" The situation is indeed urgent.Bruno then slipped slowly to the ground, put down the step of the carriage, opened the door, got into the main compartment and closed it again, where the two friends were sleeping peacefully next to each other. "My master! . . . " cried Bruno in a low voice, pushing Van Mettertain's shoulder with his hand. "To hell with that nasty guy who woke me up!" the Dutchman murmured, rubbing his eyes. "It's not a matter of sending people to the devil, especially since the devil might be there!" Bruno replied. "Who is talking to me?..." "It is I, your servant." "Oh! Bruno! . . . Is that you? . . . After all, you were right to wake me up! I was dreaming of Madame van Mettaine . . . " "Trouble for you! . . . " replied Bruno, "and just now!" "What happened?" "Would you please wake up Lord Kerabong?" "Let me call?..." "Yes! Time to wake him up!" The drowsy Dutchman stopped asking and shook his companion. Nothing sleeps more deeply than a Turk, so long as the Turk has a good appetite and a clear head, as Van Mettain's companion did.So it has to be shaken many times. Lord Kailabon's temper is never giving in, so he didn't even lift his eyelids, but just hummed and complained in a low voice.He was just as stubborn in his sleep as he was awake, and of course he should be put to sleep. However, Van Mittern and Bruno persevered, Lord Kerabon finally woke up, stretched out his arms, opened his eyes and asked in a vague voice that was still a little sleepy: "Well! Did the coachman and Nisib bring the supplementary horses?" "Not yet," replied Van Mettaine. "Then why did you wake me up?" "Because the horses have not yet arrived," Bruno replied, "but there are other very suspicious animals out there, surrounding the carriage to attack!" "What kind of animals are they?" "Look!" The glass window of the car door was pulled down, and Kerabong leaned out. "May Allah bless us!" he shouted. "That's a huge herd of wild boars!" He was not mistaken, it was indeed a wild boar.The animal is extremely numerous throughout the region bordering the Danube estuaries.Their attacks are so terrible that they can be classified as beasts of prey. "What shall we do?" asked the Dutchman. "If they don't attack, we stay put," Kerabong replied. "If they attack us, resist!" "Why do these wild boars attack us?" went on Van Mettaine. "As far as I know they are not carnivorous at all!" "Yes," Kerabong replied, "but we might, if not be eaten, be disemboweled!" "It's all the same," Bruno reminded calmly. "So we have to be prepared for any eventuality!" After Master Kelabon finished speaking, he distributed the weapons.Van Mittern and Brunaud each had a six-shot revolver and some cartridges.He was the "Old Turk" and the avowed enemy of all modern inventions, so there were only two Ottoman-made pistols with filigree designs on the barrels and scales and precious stones on the butts, but better suited for To adorn an officer's belt, not for actual combat.Van Mittern, Kerabon, and Bruno had only so much weaponry to use, so fire only when you feel confident. At this time, more than 20 wild boars had gradually approached and surrounded the car.Under the lights that no doubt had drawn them here, they could be seen scurrying furiously here and there, digging at the ground with their tusks.These wild boars are as big as donkeys, and they are so powerful that a single wild boar can deal with a large group of hounds. Therefore, if the travelers hiding in the car are attacked on both sides before sunrise, the situation is very worrying. The horses pulling the cart feel this fully.They snorted and flung themselves aside amid the hooting, raising fears that they might break the noose or the shaft of the wagon. Suddenly there were several gunshots.Van Mittern and Brunaud had just fired twice each from their pistols at the attacking boars.The more or less injured wild boar roared and rolled on the ground, while the other wild boars, enraged, rushed to the car and attacked with their tusks.The wainscoting of the carriage had been punctured in several places, and was evidently due to be punctured soon. "Oh! Oh!" Bruno exclaimed in a low voice. "Shoot! Shoot!" repeated Lord Kerabong, unloading his pistol, which usually misfired every fourth shot--though he didn't like to admit it. The pistols of Brunaudau and Van Mittain wounded some more formidable assailants, some of whom fell directly on the horses drawing the cart. The horses were naturally frightened at the threat of the boar's tusks, but they could not move freely and could only react by stamping their hooves.If they were free, they would pounce on the field, and then it would be only a matter of speed between them and the boar.So they desperately try to get the noose so they can escape.But the noose is made of twisted strands of rope, and it can't be pulled no matter what.So either the front half of the wagon snapped, or the wagon was dragged out of the mud under the violent pull of these horses. Lord Kerabon, Van Mittern and Bruno knew this very well, and their biggest concern was whether the car would overturn.The gunshots could no longer calm the wild boars, they were about to jump on the car, and the people in the car would be finished.But how can such a possible situation be avoided?Aren't they about to be at the mercy of these crazy wild boars?They did not lose their composure, however, nor did they spare the bullets from their pistols. Suddenly, a more violent shock shook the carriage, and it seemed that the front half had come off. "Ah! Nothing could be better!" exclaimed Kerabong. "Let our horses run into the heath! The boars will run after them, and we will be quiet!" The front half, however, was still strong and held up to the tug, and as it is a long-established product of British coachbuilding, it didn't budge under the tug.It was the carriage that gave way.Under such violent shaking it was pulled out of the rut it had sunk into the axle.The frightened horses finally pulled the car onto the firmer ground. The car had no guide in the middle of the night, and was just being driven wildly by these violent horses. But the boar did not give up the fight at all.They ran on either side, and some attacked the horses, others attacked the carriages, so that the carts could not draw any distance from them. Lord Kerabon, Van Mittern and Bruno were thrown deep into the carriage. "Maybe we'll all fall over..." said Van Mettaine. "Maybe none of us will fall over..." Kerabong replied. "Must try to find these guides!" Bruno wisely reminded. As he spoke, he pulled down the front window, and stretched out his hand to see if he could touch the guides, but the horses threw them off in their struggle, and now the carriage was left to run blindly through the swamp.There was only one way to stop the horses: to stop the herd of wild boars that were chasing them.But these weapons were not enough, bullets were wasted on these moving beasts. Every bump in the road knocked the travelers against each other, or flung them from one corner of the carriage to another.Kerabong resigned himself to his fate as a good Muslim, and the two Dutchmen remained calm and silent. More than an hour passed like this.The carriage kept galloping, and the wild boars did not abandon it. "Friend Van Mettaine," said Kerabon at last, "I will allow myself to say that in a similar situation, a traveler was chased by a pack of wolves on the Russian steppes, thanks to his servant His noble devotion was saved." "How did you get saved?" asked Van Mettaine. "Oh! It doesn't get any easier," Kerabong continued. "The servant embraced his master, committed his soul to God, and jumped out of the cart, and when the wolves stopped to devour him, his master was distanced and saved." "It is a great pity that Nisib is not here!" Bruno replied calmly. Thinking of this, the three of them fell into deathly silence again. By this time the night was getting deeper and deeper.The carriage still maintained a terrifying speed, and the wild boar couldn't get close enough to pounce on it.If nothing happens, such as damage to a wheel, or a collision too violent to overturn the carriage, Lord Kerabon and Van Mittayn will have some chance of being saved—even without Bruno feeling incompetent. Your dedication is also OK. It must also be admitted that the horses had been guided by instinct throughout this part of the moor which they were used to.They are running straight towards the station firmly. So they were only a few versts from the station when the first light of dawn was just rising on the eastern horizon. The group of wild boars chased for half an hour, and then gradually fell behind, but the horses did not slow down for a moment, and they did not collapse from exhaustion until a few hundred steps away from the post station. Lord Kerabong and his two companions were saved.Praise be given to the God of Christians and Allah of non-Christians alike, for they have blessed the Dutch and Turkish travelers on this perilous night. When the coach arrived at the post, Nisib and the coachman, who had not experienced the adventure in the dark of night, were about to set off with a supplementary horse.These horses replaced the original horses.Lord Kerabong of course pays a fortune for the horses that saved them.The noose and shaft of the carriage had been repaired, so it did not rest for an hour, and it went on the way to Kiria as usual. The small town is also a port on the Danube, on a tributary also named Kiria.The Russians destroyed all of its fortifications before returning it to Romania. On the evening of August 25, the carriage arrived in the city without incident.Weary travelers checked into one of the big hotels in the city, where they slept for twelve hours to recover from the fatigue of the previous night. They set off early the next morning and soon reached the Russian border. Here again some troubles arise.The exasperating formalities of Moscow customs had severely tested the patience of Lord Kerabon, who thanks to business contacts—luck or luck, you name it—able to speak intelligible Russian.Because of his obstinate opposition to customs operations, it was thought for a while that he would not be allowed to cross the border. It was now with difficulty that Van Metertain could silence him.Kerabong then agreed to be inspected, had his case searched, and made Customs enforce its rights, though he repeated the infallible thought several times: "Obviously, all governments are the same and are worth less than a piece of watermelon rind!" The border of Romania was finally crossed in one breath, and the carriage drove to Bessarabia, which was outlined in the northeast direction by the Black Sea coast. Lord Kerabon and Van Mittain were only twenty kilometers from Odessa.

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