I had started work in the forest wearing a long beard, the cut and colour of which were described on my description-slip. I shaved off this beard a little while after, and the day before my escape I sacrificed my moustache. Through motives of prudence, not of vanity, I had slipped into my pocket a glass and a comb, with which to perform my toilette. My absence must apparently have passed unnoticed until an hour and a half after my disappearance, at the time when work began afresh. My life as a hunted beast began. Even for those who have no taste for violent emotion, this life presents a certain charm. It allows you to enjoy the majestic calm of the forest, to observe at close range the birds who, mistaking you perhaps for the trunk of an old tree, come flying round without fear and twitter and sing before going to sleep. As night fell gently in the quiet forest I allowed my thoughts to wander towards the dear land of France that perhaps I should never reach, towards the loved ones I might never see again. They were sad thoughts, it is true, but my will gained from them new strength and energy. Homeland, parents and friends seemed doubly dear, and I hoped with all my heart that no one over there would have any suspicion of the risks I was running, to which I had voluntarily exposed myself. Night had now come; the sky was starry, all was silent in the sleeping villages. There was no sound except that made now and then by a half-awakened bird fluttering his wings. I made up my mind to start; the thick undergrowth of young firs was not favourable for walking, and the displaced foliage made a noise as I made my way through it, so I had to creep along under the lowest branches. I went on for about a hundred metres, and then found myself at the edge of the wood. The coldness of the wind made me shiver. The Great Bear was shining brightly, and the Pole Star showed me which way I had to go for the west. I went cautiously on, feeling a little uneasy at the noise of my steps over the fields of beetroot or potatoes. I often stopped to listen; a sound would startle me; I would discover that it was a crackling branch, or a frightened hare scuttling off; then I would continue my way across fields and pasture-land, climbing over fences and crawling under hedges. I carefully avoided habitations where the barking of dogs would draw attention to me as I passed, and so I had to go rather slowly. At one time I had to cross another wood, which soon became very dense. It was a thorny thicket that was almost impossible to get through. Suddenly a sound similar to that which my own feet were making on the dead leaves attracted my attention. I stood motionless for a few minutes and listened. The sound stopped. Feeling reassured, I started off again, but immediately from the same spot I heard the same crackling noise. I peered into the darkness and then saw, a few metres away behind a thick bush, two phosphorescent eyes fixed on me. It is a dog that is watching