come near her. I have hurt her teat by pressing
it too hard.

February 8.—I will confess my weakness; I
shed tears to-day when I tried in vain to milk
Blanchette for the last time. When she saw
that, gave up the task, she gazed at me
distrustfully, as if putting herself on her guard
against a fresh attempt. I pushed the basin on
one side, and sat down by the poor creature. I
threw my arms round her, and wept bitterly.

She went on eating all the same, bleating
occasionally, and looking at me affectionately.
They say that goats do not distinguish persons,
and that they never manifest the jealous and
devoted attachments of dogs; nevertheless,
Blanchette is fond of her companions, and shows
confidence in them. She looks to me for food
and the necessary attentions to which I have
accustomed her; and I must now put a knife
into her throat! Inexperienced as I am in such
a task, I can scarcely avoid causing her great
and prolonged suffering.

God has given the animals to man for food;
I know it: but it is showing no ingratitude for
his bounty if we become attached to those which
have rendered us benefits, and which are of a
gentle and affectionate disposition. I will,
therefore, delay the cruel sacrifice up to the last
possible moment. I have still a few victuals left,
and I will economise them as closely as I can.

February 12.—With so many sorrows pressing
on me, it is impossible to keep my journal
with strict regularity. My provisions are all but
finished; Blanchette grows fatter than ever. It
goes to my heart every time I caress her. I
have made a fresh search all over the house; I
have broken up the floor in several places, to try
and discover, if possible, some hidden store of
provision. All I have gained by this violent
exercise, is to excite my appetite. The idea
that I have scarcely a morsel left to eat, makes
me, I believe, all the hungrier.

February 17.—Since yesterday the frost has
become so sharp at night, that I am obliged to
keep up a constant fire. Certainly, if this
weather lasted, I should have no hesitation in
shutting up my poor victim's flesh in the stable,
where it freezes hard, without any further
preparation. But the weather may change. I must
decide upon something without delay. I have
only just enough salt left for my butchering
purposes!

February 18.—The cold is intense; it recals
the visit of the wolves to mind. There is
nothing now to hinder them from traversing the
mountain in all directions. Under these
desperate circumstances, it is the only end which
makes me shudder. Were an avalanche
permitted to crush me to-day, I should hail death
as a deliverance.

February 20.—I have come to a grand
resolution! I will leave the chalet to-morrow.
Before risking my life, I wish to record in my
journal what made me come to this conclusion.

Yesterday morning, Blanchette's bleating
woke me out of a frightful dream. I thought
I was standing, with bloody hands, cutting up
the poor animal's quivering flesh; her head lay
before me; I could nevertheless hear it utter
cries of pain. These were what actually did
strike my ear. I awoke with my cheeks streaming
with tears. How delighted I was to behold
Blanchette still living! I ran up to her; she
was more affectionate than ever. My joy was
not of long duration. I remembered that
destitution stared me in the face; indecision was
impossible. I took a knife, and set to work to
sharpen it on the hearthstone. I was at my
wits' end; I felt as if I were going to commit
a murder; and, after advancing unsteadily for
the purpose of giving the fatal blow, I stopped
short, overpowered by feelings of remorse.

My hands were benumbed with cold, another
reason for deferring the act which inspired me
with such disgust and repugnance. I lighted a
good fire, and pondered as I warmed myself.
"If the wolves can travel over the snow," it
suddenly struck me, "why should not we travel
over it as well?"

This idea thrilled me with joy, then fear
stole over my mind. I was about to surrender
myself to those ravenous brutes. To avoid
making Blanchette my prey, I was exposing
myself to become the prey of wolves!

And, if I kill the goat—I afterwards
considered—am I sure that her flesh will suffice for
my support until the moment of deliverance?
I have sometimes seen the Jura all covered with
white quite into the summer. I must not lose
the opportunity now offered while the snow is
frozen. That the wolves will attack us during
our course, is far from a certainty; for, if I
start, our pace will be rapid; we will descend in
a sledge!

I sprang to my feet instantly; my resolution
was taken, and, from that moment, I laboured
at its execution. In a short space of time, I
had roughly put together the vehicle necessary
for our journey, employing the very best wood
which remained. I gave to the supports of the
sledge a considerable width, to prevent their
sinking in the snow. I intend fastening the
goat behind, and tying her feet, so as to hinder
her from struggling, and propose to place
myself in front. Accustomed in my childish sports
to guide a sledge down steep slopes, I hope, if
no accident occurs, speedily to reach the plain.

Meanwhile, I am about to lie down to rest,
although the excitement will hardly allow me
to sleep. I cannot gaze without emotion on the
walls of this prison where I have suffered so
much, and where I shall leave my grandfather's
remains. I think with terror of the distance
which lies between me and the village; but I
will not draw back. The thought of being soon
certain respecting my father's fate renders me
incredibly impatient. The sledge is ready.
Here is the rope with which I will tie
Blanchette's feet; here is the sheaf of straw which is
to serve her for bed and shelter; here is the
blanket which I will wrap around me; and, lastly,
here is the Bible. I will never part with it
more; it shall accompany me unto life or unto
death.