248 ROBINSON CRUSOE.

day, but especially in the night, to preserve their cattle, and
indeed their people.

The next morning our guide was so ill, and his limbs swelled
so much with the rankling of his two wounds, that he could go
no farther ; so we were obliged to take a new guide here, and
go to Toulouse, where we found a warm climate, a fruitful,
pleasant country, and no snow, no wolves, nor anything like
them ; but when we told our story at Toulouse, they told us it
was nothing but what was ordinary in the great forest at the
foot of the mountains, especially when the snow lay on the
ground ; but they inquired much what kind of a guide we had
got, who would venture to bring us that way in such a severe
season, and told us it was surprising we were not all devoured.
When we told them how we placed ourselves and the horses in
the middle, they blamed us exceedingly, and told us it was fifty
to one but we had been all destroyed, for it was the sight of
the horses which made the wolves so furious, seeing their prey,
and that at other times they are really afraid of a gun,—but
being excessively hungry, and raging on that account, the eager-
ness to come at the horses had made them senseless of danger,
—and that if we had not by the continued fire, and at last by
the stratagem of the train of powder, mastered them, it had
been great odds but that we had been torn to pieces ; whereas,
had we been content to have sat still on horseback, and fired
as horsemen, they would not have taken the horses so much for
their own, when men were on their backs, as otherwise ; and,
withal, they told us that at last, if we had stood all together,
and left our horses, they would have been so eager to have
devoured them, that we might have come off safe, especially
having our fire-arms in our hands, and being so many in number.
For my part, I was never so sensible of danger in my life,—
for, seeing above three hundred devils come roaring and open-
mouthed to devour us, and having nothing to shelter us or
retreat to, I gave myself over for lost ; and, as it was, I believe
I shall never care to cross those mountains again ; I think I
would much rather go a thousand leagues by sea, though I was
sure to meet with a storm once a week.

I have nothing uncommon to take notice of in my passage
through France,—nothing but what other travellers have given
an account of with much more advantage than I can. I
travelled from Toulouse to Paris, and without any considerable
stay came to Calais, and landed safe at Dover the 14th of
January, after having a severe cold season to travel in.

I was now come to the centre of my travels, and had in @