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so that it confines on both sides, and that serves to hinder us; the sabres and revolvers of the escorting gendarmes take up the space. The small bell sounds monotonously, joining the moans of the lamenting snowstorm. Fortunately a little solitary light can be seen at the station, which is situated on the edge of the roaring forest.
My “leaders,” jingling with different sorts of arms, shake off the snow in a hot room, which is dark and full of soot. This inn is poor and inhospitable. The hostess endeavoured to light up the room with the dull rays of smoky wood.
“Have you by any chance anything to eat, my good woman?”
“No, I have nothing….”
“Not even fish? yet the river is quite near….”
“Well, fish there has been some, but otters have swallowed it.”
