'Smart you there. Heels together, and note you well. Each of these
sixteen divisions is separated quite reasonably and precisely into
two. Thus between N. and NNE. we get N. by E.,' said the old sailor;
'and between NNE. and NE. we get NE. by E., and between NE. and ENE.
we get NE. by E.,' said the old sailor; 'and between ENE. and E. we
get E. by N., and then between E. and ESE. we get...'
But here he noticed something dangerous in the young fool's eyes, and
having read all his life Admiral Griles' 'Notes on Discipline', and
knowing that discipline is a subtle bond depending 'not on force but
on an attitude of the mind,' he continued--
'And so TO CUT A LONG STORY SHORT we come round to the north again.'
Then he added, 'It is customary also to divide each of these points
into quarters. Thus NNE. 3/4 E. signifies...'
But at this point the young fool, whose hands were clasped behind him
and concealed a marlin-spike, up and killed the old sailor, and so
rounded off this fascinating tale.
Well then, to cut a long story short, I had to make forced marches.
With eight francs and ten centimes, and nearer ninety than eighty-five
miles before the next relief, it was necessary to plan and then to
urge on heroically. Said I to myself, 'The thing can be done quite
easily. What is ninety miles? Two long days! Who cannot live on four
francs a day? Why, lots of men do it on two francs a day.'
But my guardian angel said to me, 'You are an ass! Ninety miles is a
great deal more than twice forty-five. Besides which' (said he) 'a
great effort needs largeness and ease. Men who live on two francs a
day or less are not men who attempt to march forty-five miles a day.
Indeed, my friend, you are pushing it very close.'
'Well,' thought I, 'at least in such a glorious air, with such Hills
all about one, and such a race, one can come to no great harm.'
But I knew within me that Latins are hard where money is concerned,
and I feared for my strength. I was determined to push forward and to
live on little. I filled my lungs and put on the spirit of an attempt
and swung down the valley.
Alas! I may not linger on that charge, for if I did I should not give
you any measure of its determination and rapidity. Many little places
passed me off the road on the flanks of that valley, and mostly to the
left. While the morning was yet young, I came to the packed little
town of Bodio, and passed the eight franc limit by taking coffee,
brandy, and bread. There also were a gentleman and a lady in a
carriage who wondered where I was going, and I told them (in French)
'to Rome'. It was nine in the morning when I came to Biasca. The sun
was glorious, and not yet warm: it was too early for a meal. They gave
me a little cold meat and bread and wine, and seven francs stood out
dry above the falling tide of my money.
Here at Biasca the valley took on a different aspect. It became wider
and more of a countryside; the vast hills, receding, took on an
appearance of less familiar majesty, and because the trend of the
Ticino turned southerly some miles ahead the whole place seemed
enclosed from the world. One would have said that a high mountain
before me closed it in and rendered it unique and unknown, had not a
wide cleft in the east argued another pass over the hills, and
reminded me that there were various routes over the crest of the Alps.
Indeed, this hackneyed approach to Italy which I had dreaded and
despised and accepted only after a defeat was very marvellous, and
this valley of the Ticino ought to stand apart and be a commonwealth
of its own like Andorra or the Gresivaudan: the noble garden of the
Isere within the first gates of the Dauphine.
I was fatigued, and my senses lost acuteness. Still I noticed with
delight the new character of the miles I pursued. A low hill just
before me, jutting out apparently from the high western mountains,
forbade me to see beyond it. The plain was alluvial, while copses and
wood and many cultivated fields now found room where, higher up, had
been nothing but the bed of a torrent with bare banks and strips of
grass immediately above them; it was a place worthy of a special name
and of being one lordship and a countryside. Still I went on towards
that near boundary of the mountain spur and towards the point where
the river rounded it, the great barrier hill before me still seeming
to shut in the valley.
It was noon, or thereabouts, the heat was increasing (I did not feel
it greatly, for I had eaten and drunk next to nothing), when, coming
round the point, there opened out before me the great fan of the lower
valley and the widening and fruitful plain through which the Ticino
rolls in a full river to reach Lake Major, which is its sea.
Weary as I was, the vision of this sudden expansion roused me and made
me forget everything except the sight before me. The valley turned
well southward as it broadened. The Alps spread out on either side
like great arms welcoming the southern day; the wholesome and familiar
haze that should accompany summer dimmed the more distant mountains of
the lakes and turned them amethystine, and something of repose and of
distance was added to the landscape; something I had not seen for many
days. There was room in that air and space for dreams and for many
living men, for towns perhaps on the slopes, for the boats of happy
men upon the waters, and everywhere for crowded and contented living.
History might be in all this, and I remembered it was the entry and
introduction of many armies. Singing therefore a song of Charlemagne,
I swung on in a good effort to where, right under the sun, what seemed
a wall and two towers on a sharp little hillock set in the bosom of
the valley showed me Bellinzona. Within the central street of that
city, and on its shaded side, I sank down upon a bench before the
curtained door of a drinking booth and boasted that I had covered in
that morning my twenty-five miles.
The woman of the place came out to greet me, and asked me a question.
I did not catch it (for it was in a foreign language), but guessing
her to mean that I should take something, I asked for vermouth, and
seeing before me a strange door built of red stone, I drew it as I
sipped my glass and the woman talked to me all the while in a language
I could not understand. And as I drew I became so interested that I
forgot my poverty and offered her husband a glass, and then gave
another to a lounging man that had watched me at work, and so from
less than seven francs my money fell to six exactly, and my pencil
fell from my hand, and I became afraid.
'I have done a foolish thing,' said I to myself, 'and have endangered
the success of my endeavour. Nevertheless, that cannot now be
remedied, and I must eat; and as eating is best where one has friends
I will ask a meal of this woman.'
Now had they understood French I could have bargained and chosen; as
it was I had to take what they were taking, and so I sat with them as
they all came out and ate together at the little table. They had soup
and flesh, wine and bread, and as we ate we talked, not understanding
each other, and laughing heartily at our mutual ignorance. And they
charged me a franc, which brought my six francs down to five. But I,
knowing my subtle duty to the world, put down twopence more, as I
would have done anywhere else, for a _pour boire;_ and so with four
francs and eighty centimes left, and with much less than a third of my
task accomplished I rose, now drowsy with the food and wine, and
saluting them, took the road once more.
But as I left Bellinzona there was a task before me which was to bring
my poverty to the test; for you must know that my map was a bad one,
and on a very small scale, and the road from Bellinzona to Lugano has
a crook in it, and it was essential to find a short cut. So I thought
to myself, 'I will try to see a good map as cheaply as possible,' and
I slunk off to the right into a kind of main square, and there I found
a proud stationer's shop, such as would deal with rich men only, or
tourists of the coarser and less humble kind. I entered with some
assurance, and said in French--
'Sir, I wish to know the hills between here and Lugano, but I am too
poor to buy a map. If you will let me look at one for a few moments, I
will pay you what you think fit.'
The wicked stationer became like a devil for pride, and glaring at me,
said--
'Look! Look for yourself. I do not take pence. I sell maps; I do not
hire them!'
Then I thought, 'Shall I take a favour from such a man?' But I
yielded, and did. I went up to the wall and studied a large map for
some moments. Then as I left, I said to him--
'Sir, I shall always hold in remembrance the day on which you did me
this signal kindness; nor shall I forget your courtesy and goodwill.'
And what do you think he did at that?
Why, he burst into twenty smiles, and bowed and seemed beatified, and
said: 'Whatever I can do for my customers and for visitors to this
town, I shall always be delighted to do. Pray, sir, will you not look
at other maps for a moment?'
Now, why did he say this and grin happily like a gargoyle appeased?
Did something in my accent suggest wealth? or was he naturally kindly?
I do not know; but of this I am sure, one should never hate human
beings merely on a first, nor on a tenth, impression. Who knows? This
map-seller of Bellinzona may have been a good man; anyhow, I left him
as rich as I had found him, and remembering that the true key to a
forced march is to break the twenty-four hours into three pieces, and
now feeling the extreme heat, I went out along the burning straight
road until I found a border of grass and a hedge, and there, in spite
of the dust and the continually passing carts, I lay at full length in
the shade and fell into the sleep of men against whom there is no
reckoning. Just as I forgot the world I heard a clock strike two.
I slept for hours beneath that hedge, and when I woke the air was no
longer a trembling furnace, but everything about me was wrapped round
as in a cloak of southern afternoon, and was still. The sun had fallen
midway, and shone in steady glory through a haze that overhung Lake
Major, and the wide luxuriant estuary of the vale. There lay before me
a long straight road for miles at the base of high hills; then, far
off, this road seemed to end at the foot of a mountain called, I
believe, Ash Mount or Cinder Hill. But my imperfect map told me that
here it went sharp round to the left, choosing a pass, and then at an
angle went down its way to Lugano.
Now Lugano was not fifteen miles as the crow flies from where I stood,
and I determined to cut off that angle by climbing the high hills just
above me. They were wooded only on their slopes; their crest and much
of their sides were a down-land of parched grass, with rocks appearing
here and there. At the first divergent lane I made off eastward from
the road and began to climb.
In under the chestnut trees the lane became a number of vague beaten
paths; I followed straight upwards. Here and there were little houses
standing hidden in leaves, and soon I crossed the railway, and at last
above the trees I saw the sight of all the Bellinzona valley to the
north; and turning my eyes I saw it broaden out between its walls to
where the lake lay very bright, in spite of the slight mist, and this
mist gave the lake distances, and the mountains round about it were
transfigured and seemed part of the mere light.
The Italian lakes have that in them and their air which removes them
from common living. Their beauty is not the beauty which each of us
sees for himself in the world; it is rather the beauty of a special
creation; the expression of some mind. To eyes innocent, and first
freshly noting our great temporal inheritance--1 mean to the eyes of a
boy and girl just entered upon the estate of this glorious earth, and
thinking themselves immortal, this shrine of Europe might remain for
ever in the memory; an enchanted experience, in which the single sense
of sight had almost touched the boundary of music. They would remember
these lakes as the central emotion of their youth. To mean men also
who, in spite of years and of a full foreknowledge of death, yet
attempt nothing but the satisfaction of sense, and pride themselves
upon the taste and fineness with which they achieve this satisfaction,
the Italian lakes would seem a place for habitation, and there such a
man might build his house contentedly. But to ordinary Christians I am
sure there is something unnatural in this beauty of theirs, and they
find in it either a paradise only to be won by a much longer road to a
bait and veil of sorcery, behind which lies great peril. Now, for all
we know, beauty beyond the world may not really bear this double
aspect; but to us on earth--if we are ordinary men--beauty of this
kind has something evil. Have you not read in books how men when they
see even divine visions are terrified? So as I looked at Lake Major in
its halo I also was afraid, and I was glad to cross the ridge and
crest of the hill and to shut out that picture framed all round with
glory.
But on the other side of the hill I found, to my great disgust, not as
I had hoped, a fine slope down leading to Lugano, but a second
interior valley and another range just opposite me. I had not the
patience to climb this so I followed down the marshy land at the foot
of it, passed round the end of the hill and came upon the railway,
which had tunnelled under the range I had crossed. I followed the
railway for a little while and at last crossed it, penetrated through
a thick brushwood, forded a nasty little stream, and found myself
again on the main road, wishing heartily I had never left it.
It was still at least seven miles to Lugano, and though all the way
was downhill, yet fatigue threatened me. These short cuts over marshy
land and through difficult thickets are not short cuts at all, and I
was just wondering whether, although it was already evening, I dared
not rest a while, when there appeared at a turn in the road a little
pink house with a yard all shaded over by a vast tree; there was also
a trellis making a roof over a plain bench and table, and on the
trellis grew vines.
'Into such houses,' I thought, 'the gods walk when they come down and
talk with men, and such houses are the scenes of adventures. I will go
in and rest.'
So I walked straight into the courtyard and found there a shrivelled
brown-faced man with kindly eyes, who was singing a song to himself.
He could talk a little French, a little English, and his own Italian
language. He had been to America and to Paris; he was full of
memories; and when I had listened to these and asked for food and
drink, and said I was extremely poor and would have to bargain, he
made a kind of litany of 'I will not cheat you; I am an honest man; I
also am poor,' and so forth. Nevertheless I argued about every
item--the bread, the sausage, and the beer. Seeing that I was in
necessity, he charged me about three times their value, but I beat him
down to double, and lower than that he would not go. Then we sat down
together at the table and ate and drank and talked of far countries;
and he would interject remarks on his honesty compared with the
wickedness of his neighbours, and I parried with illustrations of my
poverty and need, pulling out the four francs odd that remained to me,
and jingling them sorrowfully in my hand. 'With these,' I said, 'I
must reach Milan.'
Then I left him, and as I went down the road a slight breeze came on,
and brought with it the coolness of evening.
At last the falling plateau reached an edge, many little lights
glittered below me, and I sat on a stone and looked down at the town
of Lugano. It was nearly dark. The mountains all around had lost their
mouldings, and were marked in flat silhouettes against the sky. The
new lake which had just appeared below me was bright as water is at
dusk, and far away in the north and east the high Alps still stood up
and received the large glow of evening. Everything else was full of
the coming night, and a few stars shone. Up from She town came the
distant noise of music; otherwise there was no sound. I could have
rested there a long time, letting my tired body lapse into the
advancing darkness, and catching in my spirit the inspiration of the
silence--had it not been for hunger. I knew by experience that when it
is very late one cannot be served in the eating-houses of poor men,
and I had not the money or any other. So I rose and shambled down the
steep road into the town, and there I found a square with arcades, and
in the south-eastern corner of this square just such a little tavern
as I required. Entering, therefore, and taking off my hat very low, I
said in French to a man who was sitting there with friends, and who
was the master, 'Sir, what is the least price at which you can give me
a meal?'