When bed-time came, Gargantua used to walk with Ponocrates as far as the lodge, looking upon the open street, whence they could better see the face of the sky. There he watched the comet — there happened to be one then — and the figure, situation and aspect, opposition and conjunction of the stars. Then, with his good teacher, he would briefly sum up in the way of the Pythagoreans all that he had read, seen, known, thought, and done in the course of the day.
Then the tired young Giant, tucking his bedclothes lazily around him, would commend himself to Heaven, and stretch his big limbs out on a bed that I am afraid was rather short for him.
CHAPTER XIV.
HOW THE AWFUL WAR BETWEEN THE BUNMAKERS OF LERNE AND GARGANTUA'S COUNTRY WAS BEGUN.
WHILE Gargantua, studying day after day, was finding out that the tasks he had at first thought to be so hard were so easy that they became more a pastime than anything else, and while he was growing to be a skilful soldier and a most learned gentleman, his old father, King Grandgousier, without his knowing it, had got into a terrible muss with certain Bunmakers of Lerne. This is how it happened. It was vintage-time, when the great purple grapes, bursting with their ripeness, were to be gathered, and when the Shepherds of Grandgousier's kingdom used to watch the vines like hawks to prevent the starlings from pecking at the juicy clusters. This vintage-time always made business for the Bunmakers of Lerne. Even when in the best of humor, however, they were always a peppery-touch-nie-if-you-dare sort of fellows. They brought their buns to market along the great highway, in ten or eleven big carts, which filled the air around them with the sweetest odors. Of course, trudging along through the white dust of the road, they were sure to meet King Grandgousier's Shepherds watching their vines, who always made it a rule to step out politely to the edge of the highway, hats in hand, to beg the Bun-makers to give them some of their fine, smoking buns in exchange for their money.
I dare say the Shepherds knew what they were doing. Never were there such buns as the Bunmakers of Lerne had the fame, all around that region, of making. Taken at breakfast with ripe grapes they were a dish fit for a King's table !
By ill luck, this year above all other years, the Bunmakers chose to show how hot and peppery they could be. Being asked by the Shepherds in the usual polite way to sell their buns, they not only refused outright, but they began to call the honest Shepherds all the bad names they could think of. There was one Shepherd named Forgier, — a good man, and a gay one besides, — who, stepping forward, said in a mild voice to the Bunmakers : —
"Friends, this is not acting like neighbors. Haven't you always come by the highway?
THE EUXMAKERS OF LEKXE.
Haven't you always found us ready to give you good silver and copper for your buns ? And haven't you always had from us in return our fine cheeses, which give their richness to your buns ? "
It is an old saying that oil will make troubled waters still. But old sayings are not always true. This particular saying proved false, for, when the Bunmakers received Forgier's oil, it only set their water on fire. "Come here, sirrah!" shouted Marquet, the chief Bun-maker, to Forgier, "and will give you your buns."
Forgier, being a very worthy, unsuspecting fellow, came near with his money in his hand, like an honest man, thinking all the time that Marquet really would let him have the buns, in spite of his rough voice and sneering tones. What did Marquet do but, with his long whip, cut the good Forgier about his body and legs so as to make him
THE ANGEK OF PICROCHOLE
dance more nimbly than he had ever danced before ! After that, Marquet got a little frightened and wanted to slip away ; but Forgier, while he was bawling for everybody to come to his rescue, took from under his arm a big cudgel, with which he hit the bad Bunmaker such a blow on his head as to make him fall from his horse more like a dead man than a living one.
But this was not the end. The good Shepherds, hearing Forgier's cries for help, rushed from their
grape-vines to the white, dusty road, holding their poles in their hands ready to avenge their comrade. The Bunmakers, peppery as they might be, were just then trying to get off as fast as their horses could carry their carts away; but they were not fast enough to prevent the Shepherds from taking from them four or five dozen delicious buns, for which they offered, like honest men, to pay the usual price. But the Bunmakers were in too great a hurry for that. They laughed angrily at all these offers, and bore Marquet's body, in a dead faint, away with them.
And this was how the great and bloody war between the Bun-makers of Lerne and Gargantua's country began.
The first thing the Bunmakers did, on getting safe home at Lerne, even before taking a bit of food or a sup of wine, was to hasten to the palace, where, bowing low before their King Picrochole, they spread out their broken baskets, torn robes, crushed buns, and, at last, with a grand flourish, displayed Marquet himself all covered with dry blood, and groaning dreadfully.
"Who has dared do this?" shouted King Picrochole, getting very red in the face.
'The Shepherds and vine-watchers of that old Giant Grand-gousier, may it please Your Majesty," answered the Bunmakers.
" Oh ! oh ! oh ! " roared Picrochole furiously.
Without asking for further information or a single proof, Picrochole ordered the drum to be beat around his city, commanding everybody, under pain of the halter, to appear at broad noon in the great square. Then he went to dinner. While he was dining, he gave out his commissions to his officers in the army, which, when gathered together, was found to consist of sixteen thousand and fourteen bowmen, and thirty thousand and eleven infantry. To the great Equerry Toque-dillon was given the command of the artillery, which, when mustered, numbered nine hundred and fourteen great brass cannon, culverins, catapults, and other pieces of artillery.
When the army was all got together, a troop of Light Cavahy, three hundred strong, under Captain Swillwind, was sent forward to scour the country of the enemy, and find out what ambuscades had been laid; but they could find none. Grandgousier's Shepherds were still peacefully watching their grape-vines, and looking out only for the bad starlings. When the report was made that the land was clear, Picrochole, all of a sudden bold, ordered a quick advance, each company marching under its own captain. Without any order or discipline, the army swept over King Grandgousier's fields, meeting no opposition; laying them waste ; sparing neither rich nor poor ; respecting no holy place ; carrying _jg^ away the bellowing oxen, mooing cows, roaring bulls, crying calves, bleating lambs, ewes, rams
CAPTAIN SWILL WIND'S CAVALRY.
crowing goats, cackling hens, cocks, piping chicks, goslings, ganders, geese, grunting swine, and suckling pigs; beating down the ripe walnuts ; tearing up the vines, and pulling all the fruit from the trees. Now and then, a frightened Shepherd would crawl from his hiding-place and beg for mercy, on the ground that he and the Bunmakers had always been the best neighbors together, and that it would be a shame to treat him like a foe. All the Bunmakers did was to laugh at so mean-spirited a fellow, while shouting that they were bound to teach him how to eat their buns. So, like a great wave of blood, they rolled on till they reached Seuilly.