Franck was testing out his new-found authority. The dog was weak in the face of an order he couldn’t carry out and started barking while staring at the top of the tree. The jay didn’t move, not afraid in the slightest. Franck was at the heart of a savage triangle, halfway between the predator and the prey, and yet aware that he was more on the side of the predator than its quarry, because he could decide which went after the other. He was discovering that he had a power over life or death that made him a part of the animal kingdom in his own right. The squirrel had disappeared, but the jay stood up to the dog and squawked even louder. In the middle of this pagan ceremony of barking and birdcall came a noise, far in the distance. Franck thought he could hear the drone of an engine, a big one, probably a lorry, a hoarse-sounding vehicle that was making its way through the hills with some difficulty. It seemed to be coming from the other side, from where the cage was. The dog carried on barking. Franck ordered him to hush but he didn’t stop, becoming more and more agitated at the sight of the scornful bird.

‘Be quiet!’

Franck raised his voice and looked at the dog sternly, stopping him in his tracks. He didn’t bark or even move, but he pricked up an ear. The jay took off spontaneously and the squirrel was no longer anywhere to be seen, but the sound of the engine was getting louder. Franck got up and started walking. He wanted to scale the slope in front of him and do it quickly. With superhuman effort, he flew up the hill. He would never have believed he could climb that fast, but he had to get up to the top of the igue to see who else had decided to explore the cage on this boiling-hot afternoon, and what kind of vehicle could even get to it.

July 1915

July 1915