We could see nothing. And still the cry rang out:

"The Garonne! The Garonne!"

Suddenly, on the wide road before us, appeared two men and three women,
one of them holding a child in her arms. It was they who were crying out,
distracted, running with long strides. They turned at times, looking behind
with terrified faces, as if a band of wolves was pursuing them.

"What's the matter with them?" demanded Cyprien. "Do you see anything,
grandfather?"

"No," I answered. "The leaves are not even moving."

I was still talking when an exclamation burst from us. Behind the fugitives
there appeared, between the trunks of the poplars, amongst the large tufts
of grass, what looked like a pack of gray beasts speckled with yellow. They
sprang up from all directions, waves crowding waves, a helter-skelter of
masses of foaming water, shaking the sod with the rumbling gallop of their
hordes.

It was our turn to send forth the despairing cry:

"The Garonne! The Garonne!"

The two men and the three women were still running on the road. They heard
the terrible gallop gaining on them. Now the waves arrived in a single line,
rolling, tumbling with the thunder of a charging battalion. With their first
shock they had broken three poplars; the tall foliage sank and disappeared.
A wooden cabin was swallowed up, a wall was demolished; heavy carts were