Chapter VI: The Flight to Anjou

Long, aimless, distracted, Yvon wandered about the forest. A severe frost had succeeded the fall of snow that covered every inch of the ground. The moon shone brilliantly in the crisp air. The forester felt chilled; in despair he threw himself down at the foot of a tree, determined there to await death.

The torpor of death by freezing was creeping upon the mind of the heart-broken serf when, suddenly, the crackling of branches that announce the passage of game fell upon his ears and revived him with the promise of life. The animal could not be more than fifty paces away. Unfortunately Yvon had left his bow and arrows in his hut. "It is the buck! Oh, this time I shall kill him!" he murmured to himself. His revived will-power now dominated the exhaustion of his forces, and it was strong enough to cause him to lose no time in vain regrets at not having his hunting arms with him, now when the prey would be certain. The crackling of the branches drew nearer. Yvon found himself under a clump of large and old oaks, a little distance away was the thick copse through which the animal was then passing. He rose up and planted himself motionless close to and along the trunk of the tree at the foot of which he had thrown himself down. Covered by the tree's thickness and the shadow that it threw, with his neck extended, his eyes and ears on the alert, the serf took his long forester's knife between his teeth and waited. After several minutes of mortal suspense--the buck might get the wind of him or come from cover beyond his reach--Yvon heard the animal approach, then stop an instant close behind the tree against which he had glued his back. The tree concealed Yvon from the eyes of the animal, but it also prevented him from seeing the prey that he breathlessly lay in wait for. Presently, six feet from Yvon and to the right, he saw plainly sketched upon the snow, that the light of the moon rendered brilliant, the shape of the buck and the wide antlers that crowned his head. Yvon stopped breathing and remained motionless so long as the shadow stood still. A moment later the shadow began to steal towards him, and with a prodigious bound Yvon rushed at and seized the animal by the horns. The buck was large and struggled vigorously; but clambering himself around the horns with his left arm, Yvon plunged his knife with his right hand into the animal's throat. The buck rolled over him and expired, while Yvon, with his mouth fastened to the wound, pumped up and swallowed the blood that flowed in a thick stream.

The warm and healthy blood strengthened and revivified the serf.... He had not eaten since the previous night.

Yvon rested a few moments; he then bound the hind legs of the buck with a flexible twig and dragging his booty, not without considerable effort by reason of its weight, he arrived with it at his hut near the Fountain of the Hinds. His family was now for a long time protected from hunger. The buck could not yield less than three hundred pounds of meat, which carefully prepared and smoked after the fashion of foresters, could be preserved for many months.

Two days after these two fateful nights, Yvon learned from a woodsman serf, that one of his fellows, a forester of the woods of Compiegne like himself, having discovered the next morning the body of Gregory the Hollow-bellied pierced with an arrow that remained in the wound, and having identified the weapon as Yvon's by the peculiar manner in which it was feathered, had denounced him as the murderer. The bailiff of the domain of Compiegne detested Yvon. Although the latter's crime delivered the neighborhood of a monster who slaughtered the travelers in order to gorge himself upon them, the bailiff ordered his arrest. Thus notified in time, Yvon the Forester resolved to flee, leaving his son and family behind. But Den-Brao as well as his wife insisted upon accompanying him with their children.

The whole family decided to take the road and place their fate in the hands of Providence. The smoked buck's meat would suffice to sustain them through a long journey. They knew that whichever way they took, serfdom awaited them. It was a change of serfdom for serfdom; but they found consolation in the knowledge that the change from the horrors they had undergone could not but improve their misery. The famine, although general, was not, according to reports, equally severe everywhere.

The hut near the Fountain of the Hinds was, accordingly, abandoned. Den-Brao and his wife carried the little Jeannette by turns on their backs. The other child, Nominoe, being older, marched besides his grandfather. They reached and crossed the borders of the royal domain, and Yvon felt safe. A few days later the travelers learned from some pilgrims that Anjou suffered less of the famine than did any other region. Thither they directed their steps, induced thereto by the further consideration that Anjou bordered on Britanny, the cradle of the family. Yvon wished eventually to return thither in the hope of finding some of his relatives in Armorica.

The journey to Anjou was made during the first months of the year 1034 and across a thousand vicissitudes, almost always accompanied by some pilgrims, or by beggars and vagabonds. Everywhere on their passage the traces were met of the horrible famine and not much less horrible ravages caused by the private feuds of the seigneurs. Little Jeannette perished on the road.