Wild Dog by Serge Joncour

Author:Serge Joncour
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Gallic Books
Published: 2020-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

August 2017

They had been walking for fifteen minutes and Franck was already drenched in sweat. Lise wanted to go deep into the woods, to explore beyond the first hill. She planned to do a few sketches or watercolours as well as having a picnic, so if they found the light-filled igue that had been referred to, she could draw it instead of taking photos. Franck was carrying both the picnic and her art materials, and the walk quickly became hard work. But he didn’t mind testing himself to see how fit he was. He was also driven by the thought of finding out where the dog came from in the mornings and went in the evenings – somewhere beyond the hill, perhaps from an igue filled with water rather than light.

Lise was already imagining herself beside a small, isolated, deep lake, though it might turn out to be a hot spring with clouds of invigorating sulphurous steam, a treasure hidden away from the rest of the world. As far as she could tell, they had to cross the first hill to get there, then the second one, and walk across the highest crest with its panoramic view. She was sure that the horizon would open out and they would be able to see the Montagne Noire in the south, and maybe even all the way to the Pyrenees if there were no clouds. She had a dreamy, almost poetic way of forgetting about distance, and Franck had come on the walk to keep her fancies alive. He didn’t like the idea of going into woods that were so dense, steep and wild, completely untouched by humans. He was anxious first of all about getting lost, and then about getting bitten by a tick or a snake. He didn’t want to show that he was scared, or that he was dreading how the dog would react when they arrived on its territory, in its hunting ground. Franck hadn’t told Lise what he had just learnt about the remote hills: that they were full of all sorts of animals, as well as all sorts of hunters and poachers.

Lise was an optimist; she didn’t worry about anything, and he acknowledged it again with admiration rather than bitterness. She was always open and seemed unafraid of anything. She had been leading the way since they set off and was so relaxed that she was whistling, even though it was a hell of a climb. They had to weave through trees instead of following the path, which disappeared in some places. As well as the picnic Franck was carrying, they had brought three litres of water with them. They had everything they needed. As they climbed up the wooded slope, the path petered out, swallowed up by bushes and brambles.

‘D’you know how to make sure you don’t get lost when you’re walking in the woods?’

‘No, Lise, I don’t.’

‘You have to keep the sun on your right-hand side.’

She told him to keep his bearings that way. As if she were suddenly a hiking expert.

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