BELOW La Fère the river runs through a piece of open pastoral country;
green, opulent, loved by breeders; called the Golden Valley. In wide
sweeps, and with a swift and equable gallop, the ceaseless stream of
water visits and makes green the fields. Kine, and horses, and little
humorous donkeys, browse together in the meadows, and come down in troops
to the river-side to drink. They make a strange feature in the
landscape; above all when they are startled, and you see them galloping
to and fro with their incongruous forms and faces. It gives a feeling as
of great, unfenced pampas, and the herds of wandering nations. There
were hills in the distance upon either hand; and on one side, the river
sometimes bordered on the wooded spurs of Coucy and St. Gobain.
The artillery were practising at La Fère; and soon the cannon of heaven
joined in that loud play. Two continents of cloud met and exchanged
salvos overhead; while all round the horizon we could see sunshine and
clear air upon the hills. What with the guns and the thunder, the herds
were all frightened in the Golden Valley. We could see them tossing
their heads, and running to and fro in timorous indecision; and when they
had made up their minds, and the donkey followed the horse, and the cow
was after the donkey, we could hear their hooves thundering abroad over
the meadows. It had a martial sound, like cavalry charges. And
altogether, as far as the ears are concerned, we had a very rousing
battle-piece performed for our amusement.
At last the guns and the thunder dropped off; the sun shone on the wet
meadows; the air was scented with the breath of rejoicing trees and
grass; and the river kept unweariedly carrying us on at its best pace.
There was a manufacturing district about Chauny; and after that the banks
grew so high that they hid the adjacent country, and we could see nothing
but clay sides, and one willow after another. Only, here and there, we
passed by a village or a ferry, and some wondering child upon the bank
would stare after us until we turned the corner. I daresay we continued
to paddle in that child’s dreams for many a night after.
Sun and shower alternated like day and night, making the hours longer by
their variety. When the showers were heavy, I could feel each drop
striking through my jersey to my warm skin; and the accumulation of small
shocks put me nearly beside myself. I decided I should buy a mackintosh
at Noyon. It is nothing to get wet; but the misery of these individual
pricks of cold all over my body at the same instant of time made me flail
the water with my paddle like a madman. The _Cigarette_ was greatly
amused by these ebullitions. It gave him something else to look at
besides clay banks and willows.
All the time, the river stole away like a thief in straight places, or
swung round corners with an eddy; the willows nodded, and were undermined
all day long; the clay banks tumbled in; the Oise, which had been so many
centuries making the Golden Valley, seemed to have changed its fancy, and
be bent upon undoing its performance. What a number of things a river
does, by simply following Gravity in the innocence of its heart!