Chapter IV: The Bridge

There were six donkeys drawn up in the yard; I was one of the handsomest and strongest of the number. Three little girls brought us oats in a bucket. Whilst eating I listened to the children’s conversation.

“Come,” said Charles, “let us choose our donkeys, as for myself, I take that one,” pointing to me with his finger.

“You always take the best,” answered the five children at once, “we must draw lots.”

“How do you wish us to draw lots, Caroline,” replied Charles, “do we put the donkeys in a bag and draw them out as one does balls?”

“Ah! ah! ah!” said Francis, “what an idiot, with his donkeys in a bag! As if one could not number them 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, put the numbers in a bag, and let each draw his number.”

“So we can,” cried the five others, “Ernest set down the numbers, while we write them on the donkey’s backs.”

These children are dunces, said I to myself. If they had the sense of a donkey, instead of tiring themselves writing numbers on our backs, they would simply arrange us along the wall, the first would be 1, the second, 2, and so on for the rest.

Meanwhile, Francis had brought a big piece of coal. I was the first, so he made an enormous 1 on my back; whilst he wrote 2 on that of my comrade, I gave myself a vigorous shake, to convince him that his invention was not a famous one. Behold, the particles of coal flew off and the 1 disappeared. “You dunce!” cried he, “I must commence over.” Whilst he re-wrote his number 1, my comrade that had perceived my doings, and was also mischievous, shook himself in turn. Behold the 2 disappear. Francis began to get angry; the others laughed and mocked him. I made a sign to my comrades and we let him number us, no one budged. Ernest returned with the numbers in his handkerchief; each one drew. Whilst they were looking at what they had drawn I made another sign to my comrades, and we all shook ourselves worse than ever. More coal, more numbers, it must be commenced over, the children were enraged. Charles was triumphant and giggled; Ernest, Albert, Caroline, Cecilia and Louisa were indignant at Francis, who in turn, stamped his foot, my comrades and I began to bray. The noise attracted the papas and mamas. The cause was explained to them and one of the papas suggested the plan of arranging us along the wall. He made the children draw their numbers.

“One!” cried Ernest. It was myself.

“Two!” cried Cecilia. It was one of my friends.

“Three,” cried Francis, and so on to the last.

“Let us start now,” said Charles, “I go first.”

“Oh! I shall soon overtake you,” replied Ernest with animation.

“I bet not.”

“I bet I shall.”

Charles taps his donkey, which sets off at a gallop. Before Ernest has time to touch me with a whip, I start also, and at such a pace that Charles is speedily overtaken. Ernest is delighted, Charles is furious. He taps and keeps tapping his donkey. Ernest has no need to tap me; I run, I fly like the wind. I pass Charles in a minute, and I hear the others who follow, laughing, and crying out:

“Bravo! donkey number 1, bravo! he runs like a horse.”

Self love gives me courage; I continue to gallop until we reach a bridge. I stop suddenly, for I have just perceived that a large plank in the bridge is rotten; I do not wish to fall in the water with Ernest, but to return to the others who are far, far behind us.

“Ho there! ho there! donkey,” said Ernest to me. “On the bridge, donkey, on the bridge.”

I resist, he gives me a touch with the switch.

I still continue to walk towards the others.

“Headstrong thing! stupid brute! will you turn and pass the bridge?”

I walk on towards my comrades and rejoin them, in spite of this wicked boy’s cross words and blows.

“Why do you beat your donkey, Ernest?” cries Caroline, “he is excellent, he went flying and you overtook Charles.”

“I beat him to make him go over the bridge, he is determined to turn back.”

“Ah! bah! because he was alone; now that we are all together he will pass the bridge like the rest.”

“Unfortunate creatures!” think I, “they are all going to fall into the river. I must try to convince them of the danger.”

And I set off in a gallop towards the bridge, to Ernest’s great satisfaction and amidst cries of joy from the other children.

I gallop up to the bridge; reaching it, I stop suddenly as if afraid, Ernest astonished, urges me on, I recoil with an air of fright that surprises Ernest still more. Silly boy! he sees nothing though the rotten board is in full view. The others rejoin him, and enjoy the spectacle of his efforts to make me go across and mine not to do so. At last the whole party dismount from their donkeys, each one pushing and beating me mercilessly, still I budge not.

“Pull him by the tail,” cries Charles, “donkeys are so headstrong that if you want to make them go one way, they are sure to go the other.”

Behold them seize me by the tail. I defend myself with a kick; they all beat me at once, and yet I will not move an inch.

“Wait Ernest,” says Charles, “let me go first and he will certainly follow.”

He tries to advance, to prevent him I place myself crosswise before the bridge, but by dint of blows he makes me fall back.

“Well,” said I to myself, “I’ll give up, if this bad boy wants to be drowned, let him be, I have done my best to save him; since he is so determined, let him taste a draught.”

Scarcely had his donkey touched the rotten plank, ere it gave way, and both rider and animal were thrown into the water. There was no danger for my comrade, as like the rest of his race, he knew how to swim, but Charles struggled and screamed without the power of extricating himself.

“A pole! a pole!” he cried.

The children ran in every direction, at last Caroline found a long pole, which she hastily held out to him; he seized it, but his weight was dragging her in, and she called for help. Ernest, Francis and Albert ran to her. At length, with a great deal of difficulty, they succeeded in drawing to land the unhappy Charles, who had drank more than he relished, and who was wet from head to foot. When assured of his safety, they all began to laugh at his piteous plight; Charles got angry, they jumped upon their donkeys, and with bursts of laughter advised him to return to the house and change his clothes. Wet as he was, he mounted his donkey. I laughed in my sleeve at his ridiculous figure, the current had carried away his hat and shoes, the water was running off him to the ground, his dripping hair clung to him, and his countenance was furious—altogether he was a most ludicrous picture. The children laughed, my comrades pranced and ran to express their delight.

I ought to add that Charles’ donkey was detested by the rest of us, because he was quarrelsome, gluttonous and stupid, qualities very rare among us.

At length Charles disappeared, and both children and donkeys became more quiet. Every one caressed me and admired my spirit, and we all started off again, I at the head of the band.