# The Writings of Prosper Mérimée/Volume 5/Lokis/3

III
After breakfast the following day the Count proposed that I should take a walk with him. The object in view was to visit a kapas (the name given by the Lithuanians to tumuli, called ​by the Russians kourgâne) , a very noted one in that country, because formerly poets and magicians (they are one and the same thing) gathered there on certain special occasions.
" I have a very quiet horse to offer you," he said. " I regret that I can not take you by carriage, but, upon my word, the road we go by is not fit for carriages."
I would rather have stopped in the library taking my notes, but I could not express any wish contrary to that of my generous host, and I accepted. The horses were waiting for us at the foot of the steps in the courtyard, where a groom held a dog in leash.
" Do you know much about dogs. Pro- fessor? " said the Count, stopping for a minute and turning to me.
" Hardly anything. Your Excellency."
" The Staroste of Zorany, where I have prop- erty, sent me this spaniel, of which he thinks highly. Allow me to show him to you." He called to the groom, who came up with the dog. He was indeed a beautiful creature. The dog was quite used to the man, and leapt joyfully and seemed full of life; but when within a few yards of the Count he put his tail between his legs and hung back terrified. The Count patted him, and at this the dog set up a dismal howl. ​" I think he will turn out a good dog with careful training," he said, after having examined him for some time with the eye of a connoisseur. Then he mounted his horse.
" Professor," he said, " when we were in the avenue leading from the chateau you saw that dog's fear. Please give me your honest opinion. In your capacity of savant you must learn to solve enigmas. . . . Why should animals be afraid of me? "
" Really, Your Excellency does me the honour of taking me for an CEdipus, whilst I am only a simple professor of comparative philology. There might "
" Observe," he interrupted me, " that I never beat either horses or dogs. I have a scruple against whipping a poor beast who commits a mistake through ignorance. But, nevertheless, you can hardly conceive the aversion that I in- spire in dogs and horses. It takes me double the time and trouble to accustom them to me that it would other people. It took me a long time before I could subdue the horse you are riding, but now he is as quiet as a lamb."
" I believe. Your Excellency, that animals are physiognomists, and detect at once if people whom they see for the first time like them or not. I expect you only like animals for the services ​they render you ; on the other hand, many people have an instinctive partiahty for certain beasts, and they find it out at once. Now I, for instance, have always had an instinctive liking for cats. They very rarely run away from me when I try to stroke them, and I have never been scratched by one."
"That is very likely," said the Count; "I can not say I have a real affection for animals. . . . Human beings are so much more to be preferred. We are now coming into a forest. Professor, where the kingdom of beasts still flourishes—the matecznik, the womb, the great nursery of beasts. Yes, according to our national traditions, no one has yet penetrated its depths, no one has been able to reach to the heart of these woods and thickets, unless, always excepted, the poets and magicians have, who go everywhere. Here the beasts all live as in a Republic ... or under a Constitutional Government, I can not tell which of the two. Lions, bears, elks, the joubrs, our wild oxen or aurochs, all live very happily together. The mammoth, which is preserved there, is thought highly of; it is, I believe, the Marshal of the Diet. They have a very strict police force, and if they decide that any beast is vicious they sentence him to banishment. It falls thus out of the fry​ing-pan into the fire; it is obliged to venture into the region of man, and few escape."*
"A very curious legend," I exclaimed; " but, Your Excellency, you speak of the aurochs, that noble animal which Caesar has described in his Commentaries J and which the Merovingian kings hunted in the forest of Compiegne. I am told they still exist in Lithuania — is that so? "
" Certainly. My father himself killed a jouhr, having obtained permission from the Government. You can see the head in the large dining-hall. I have never seen one. I believe they are very scarce. To make amends we have wolves and bears here in abundance. To guard against a possible encounter with one of these gentlemen I have brought this instrument " (and he produced a Circassian tchekhole f which he carried in his belt) , " and my groom carries in his saddle-box a double-barrelled rifle."
We began to penetrate into the forest. Soon the narrow track that we were following disap- peared altogether. Every few moments we were obhged to ride round enormous trees whose low branches barred our passage. Several of these, which were dead of old age and fallen over,
See Messire Thaddee, by Mlckiewicz, and Captive Poland, by M. Charles Edmond.
A Circassian gun-case. ​looked like bulwarks crowned with a line of chevaux-de-frise impossible to scale. Elsewhere we encountered deep pools covered with water lilies and duckweed. Further on we came to a clearing where the grass shone like emeralds; but woe to those who ventured on it, for this rich and deceptive vegetation usually hides abysses of mud in which both horse and rider would disappear for ever. . . . The arduousness of the route had interrupted our conversation. All my attention was taken up in following the Count, and I admired the imperturbable sagacity with which he guided his way without compass, and always regained the right direction which had to be followed to reach the kapas. It was evident that he had frequently hunted in these wild forests.
At last we perceived the tumulus in the centre of a large clearing. It was very high and surrounded by a fosse still clearly recognisable in spite of the landshps. It looked as though it had recently been excavated. At the summit I noticed the remains of an erection built of stones, some of which bore traces of fire. A considerable quantity of ashes, mixed with pieces of charcoal, with here and there fragments of coarse crockery, attested that there had been a fire on the top of the tumulus for a considerable time. ​If one can put faith in popular tradition, human sacrifices had been offered several times in the kapas; but there is hardly any extinct religion to which these abominable rites have not been attributed, and I imagine one could justify a similar theory with regard to the ancient Lithuanians from historic evidence.
We came down from the tumulus to rejoin our horses, which we had left on the far side of the fosse, when we saw an old woman approaching us, leaning on a stick and holding a basket in her hand.
" Good day, gentlemen," she said to us as she came up, " I ask an alms for the love of God. Give me something for a glass of brandy to warm my poor body."
The Count threw her a coin, and asked what she was doing in the wood, so far from habitation. For sole answer she showed him her basket filled with mushrooms. Although my knowledge of botany was but limited, I thought several of the mushrooms looked Hke poisonous ones.
" My good woman," I said, " you are not going to eat those, I hope."
" Sir," the old woman replied, with a sad smile, " poor folk eat all the good God gives them."
" You are not acquainted with Lithuanian ​stomachs," the Count put in ; " they are lined with sheet iron. Our peasants eat every kind of fungus they find, and are none the worse for them."
"At least prevent her from tasting the agaricus necator she has in her basket," I cried, and I stretched out my hand to take one of the most poisonous of the mushrooms, but the old woman quickly withdrew the basket.
" Take care," she said in a frightened tone; " they are protected . . . Pirkuns! Pirkuns!"
"Pirkuns," I may explain in passing, is the Samogitian name for the divinity called by the Russians Péroune; it is the Jupiter tonans of the Slavs. If I was surprised when I heard the old woman invoke a pagan god, I was much more astonished to see the mushrooms heave up. The black head of a snake raised itself at least a foot out of the basket. I jumped back, and the Count spat over his shoulder after the superstitious custom of the Slavs, who believe that in this way they turn away misfortune, as did the ancient Romans. The old woman put the basket on the ground, and crouched by its side; then she held out her hand towards the snake, pronouncing some unintelligible words like an incantation. The snake remained quiet a moment, ​then it curled itself round the shrivelled arm of the old woman and disappeared in the sleeve of her sheepskin cloak, which, with a dirty chemise, comprised, I believe, all the dress of this Lithuanian Circe. The old woman looked at us with a little laugh of triumph, like a conjurer who has just executed a difficult trick. Her face wore that mixture of cunning and stupidity which is often noticeable in would-be witches, who are mostly scomidrels and dupes.
" Here you have," said the Count in German, " a specimen of local colour; a witch who tames snakes, at the foot of a kapas, in the presence of a learned professor and of an ignorant Lithuanian gentleman. It would make a capital subject for a picture of natural life by your countryman Knauss. ... If you wish to have your fortime told, this is a good opportunity."
I replied that I did not encourage such practices.
" I would much rather," I added, " ask her if she knows anything about that curious superstition of which you spoke. Good woman," I said to her, " have you heard tell of a part of this forest where the beasts live in a community, independent of man's rule? "
The witch nodded her head in the affirmative, ​and she gave a low laugh, half silly, half malicious.
"I come from it," she said. " The beasts have lost their king. Noble, the lion, is dead; the animals are about to elect another king. If you go there perhaps they will make you king,"
" What are you saying, mother? " and the Count burst into shouts of laughter. " Do you know to whom you are talking? Do you not know that this gentleman is . . . (what the deuce do they call a professor in Jmoudic?) a great savant, a sage, a waïdelote?"
The witch stared at him fixedly.
"I was mistaken," she said. " It is thou who ought to go there. Thou wilt be their king, not he; thou art tall, and strong, and hast claws and teeth."
" What do you think of the epigrams she levels at us? " said the Count. " Can you show us the way, mother? " he asked.
She pointed with her hand to a part of the forest.
" Indeed? " said the Count. " And how can you get across the marsh? You must know, Professor, that she pointed to an impassable swamp, a lake of liquid mud covered over with green ​grass. Last year a stag that I wounded plunged into this infernal marsh, and I watched him sink slowly, slowly. ... In five minutes I saw only his horns, and soon he disappeared completely, two of my dogs with him."
"But I am not heavy," said the old woman, chuckhng.
"I think you could cross the marsh easily on a broomstick."
A flash of anger shone in the old woman's eyes.
" Sir," she said, returning to the drawling and nasal twang of the beggar, " haven't you a pipe of tobacco to give a poor woman? Thou hadst better search for a passage through the swamp than go to Dowghielly," she added in a lower tone.
"Dowghielly!" said the Count, reddening, " what do you mean? "
I could not help noticing that this word produced a singular effect upon him. He was visibly embarrassed; he lowered his head in order to hide his confusion, and busied himself over opening the tobacco pouch which hung at the hilt of his hunting knife.
"No, do not go to Dowghielly," repeated the old woman. " The little white dove is not for thee, is she, Pirkuns?"
​At that moment the snake's head appeared out of the collar of the old woman's cloak and stretched up to its mistress's ear. The reptile, trained doubtless to the trick, moved its jaws as though it spoke.
" He says I am right? " said the old woman.
The Count gave her a handful of tobacco.
" Do you know me? " he asked.
" No, sir."
" I am the master of Medintiltas. Come and see me one of these days ; I will give you tobacco and brandy."
The old woman kissed his hand and moved away with rapid strides. We soon lost sight of her. The Count remained thoughtful, tying and untying the fastenings of his bag, hardly conscious of what he was doing.
" Professor," he said to me after a somewhat long silence, " you will laugh at me. That old crone knew both me and the road which she showed me better than she pretended. . After all, there is nothing so very surprising in that. I am as well known in this countryside as the white wolf. The jade has seen me several times on the road to Dowghielly Castle. . . .
A marriageable young lady lives there, so she concluded that I was in love. . . . Then some handsome boy has bribed her to tell me ​bad luck. . > . It is obvious enough. Nevertheless, ... in spite of myself, her words have affected me. I am almost frightened by them. . . . You have cause to laugh. . . . The truth is that I intended to go and ask for dinner at the Castle of Dowghielly, and now I hesitate. ... I am a great fool. Come, Professor, you decide it. Shall we go? "
" In questions of marriage I never give advice," I said laughingly. " I take good care not to have an opinion.
We had come back to our horses.
" The horse shall choose for me," cried the Count, as he vaulted into the saddle and let the bridle lie slack.
The horse did not hesitate; he immediately entered a little footpath, which, after several turnings, descended into a metalled road which led to Dowghielly. Half an hour after we reached the Castle steps.
At the sound of our horses a pretty, fair head appeared at a window, framed between two curtains. I recognised the translator of Miçkiewicz, who had taken me in.
" You are welcome," she said. " You could not have come more apropos, Count Szémioth. A dress from Paris has just arrived for me. I shall be lovely past recognition."
​The curtains closed again.
" It is certainly not for me that she is putting on this dress for the first time," muttered the Count between his teeth whilst mounting the steps.
He introduced me to Madam Dowghiello, the aunt of the panna Iwinska, who received me courteously and spoke to me of my last articles in the Koenigsberg Scientific and Literary Gazette.
"The Professor has come to complain to you," said the Count, " of the malicious trick which Mademoiselle Ioulka played on him.
"She is a child, Professor; you must forgive her. She often drives me to distraction with her follies. I had more sense at sixteen than she has at twenty, but she is a good girl at heart, and she has many good qualities. She is an admirable musician, she paints flowers exquisitely, and she speaks French, German and Italian equally well, > . . She embroiders."
"And she composes Jmoudic verses," added the Count, laughing.
"She is incapable of it," exclaimed Madam Dowghiello; and they had to explain her niece's mischievousness.
Madam Dowghiello was weUll educated, and ​knew the antiquities of her country. Her conversation was particularly agreeable to me. She read many of our German reviews, and held very sane views upon philology. I admit that I did not notice the time that Mademoiselle Iwinska took to dress, but it seemed long to Count Szemioth, who got up and sat down again, looked out of the window, and drummed on the pane with his fingers as a man who has lost patience.
At length, at the end of three-quarters of an hour. Mademoiselle Juhenne appeared, wearing with exquisite grace a dress which would require more critical knowledge than mine to describe. She was followed by her French governess.
"Do I not look pretty?" she said to the Count, turning round slowly so that he could see her from all sides.
She did not look either at the Count or at me, but at her new dress.
"How is it, Ioulka," said Madam Dowghiello, "that you do not say good day to the Professor? He complains of you."
" Ah, Professor!" she cried, with a charming little pout. "What have I done? Have you come to make me do penance? "
"We shall punish ourselves. Mademoiselle, ​if we deprive ourselves of your presence," I an- swered. " I am far from complaining; on the contrary, I congratulate myself on having learnt, thanks to you, that the Lithuanian Muse has reappeared more brightly than ever."
She lowered her head, and, putting her hands before her face, taking care not to disarrange her hair, she said, in the tones of a child who has just stolen some sweetmeats —
" Forgive me; I will not do it again."
" I will only pardon you, my dear Pani," I said to her, " if you will fulfil a certain promise which you were good enough to make to me at Wilno, at the house of the Princess Katazyna Paç."
"What promise?" she asked, raising her head and laughing.
" Have you forgotten so soon? You promised me that if we met in Samogitia you would let me see a certain country dance which you said was enchanting."
" Oh, the roussalka! I shall be charmed; and the very man I need is here."
She ran to a table loaded with music-books, and, turning over one hastily, put it on the piano stand.
"Mind, my dear, allegro presto" she said, addressing her governess. And she played the ​prelude herself, without sitting down, to show the time.
" Come here, Count Michel I you are too much of a Lithuanian not to be able to dance the roussalka ; . . . but dance like a peasant, you understand."
Madam Dowghiello in vain tried to object. The Count and I insisted. He had his motives, for his part in the dance was extremely agree- able, as we soon saw. The governess, after several attempts, said she thought she could play that kind of waltz, strange though it was; so Mademoiselle loulka, after moving some chairs and a table that were in the way, took hold of her partner by the collar of his coat and led him into the centre of the room.
" You must know, Professor, that I am a roussalka, at your service." She made a low bow.
"A roussalka is a water nymph. There is one in each of the big pools of black water which adorn our forests. Do not go near! The roussalca comes out, lovelier even than I, if that be possible ; she carries you to the bottom, where, very likely, she gobbles you up. ..."
" A real siren," I cried.
" He," continued Mademoiselle Ioulka, pointing to Count Szémioth, "is a very foolish ​young fisherman who exposes himself to my clutches, and, to make the pleasure last longer, I fascinate him by dancing round him for a time. . . . But, alas! to do it properly I want a sarafane. What a pity! You must please excuse this dress, which has neither character nor local colour. . . . Oh ! and I have slippers on. It is quite impossible to dance the roussalka with slippers on . . . and heels on them too."
She picked up her dress, and, daintily shaking a pretty little foot at the risk of showing her leg, she sent the slipper flying to the end of the drawing-room. The other followed the first, and she stood upon the parquetry floor in her silken stockings.
" We are quite ready," she said to the governess. And the dance began.
The roussalka revolves and revolves round her partner; he stretches out his arms to seize her, but she slips underneath them and escapes. It is very graceful, and the music has movement and originality. The figure ends when the partner, believing that he has seized the roussalka, tries to give her a kiss, and she makes a bound, strikes him on the shoulder, and he falls dead at her feet. . . . But the Count improvised ​a variation, strained the winsome creature in his arms, and kissed her again and again. Made- moiselle Ioulka uttered a little cry, blushed deeply, and threw herself, pouting, onto a couch, complaining that he had hugged her like the bear that he was. I saw that the comparison did not please the Count, for it brought to his mind the family misfortune, and his brow darkened, I thanked Mademoiselle Ioulka most warmly, and praised her dance, which seemed to me to have an antique flavour and recalled the sacred dances of the Greeks. I was interrupted by a servant announcing General and Princess Veliaminof. Mademoiselle Ioulka leaped to the sofa for her shoes, hastily thrust in her little feet, and ran to meet the Princess, making successively two profound bows. I noticed that at each bow she adroitly drew on part of her slipper. The General brought with him two aides- de-camp, and, like us, had come to ask for hospitality. In any other country I imagine the mistress of the house would have been a little embarrassed to receive all at once six hungry and unexpected guests; but Lithuanian hospitahty is so lavish that the dinner was not more than half an hour late, I think; there were too many pies, however, both hot and cold.
* ↑ A bad translation of the word "professor." The waïdelotes were the Lithuanian bards.
* ↑ A peasant's skirt, without a bodice.