Do not push much of the old Malhubac to make them tell the story of the oak glade. The versions vary slightly from one family and one generation to another, no longer knows how old she is, a century or two or ten, but through the ages as an old myth.
It is always reported with a certain pleasure, as if it was a nice property of the locals. And yet.
When the stranger arrived at the clearing, he saw that the forest, not mark a clean break, faded just a slow progression that finally a space where there was no longer the tree that the presence of other vegetation.
In this clearing, as sometimes in these grassy oasis in the middle of long tall scrubland, the impression was more that of a lack, an absence of the forest as a place with its own existence. It marked a solitude, a nothingness lost in the sea of trees, as troubling as protector.
But in middle stood a large oak, which the traveler hated at first glance. He hated the trees in memory of a bad fall in his childhood that had afflicted with a stiff leg that laziness exasperated and was instrumental in the sadness of his life and the darkness of his thoughts. At a ripe age, he had found neither happiness nor wisdom and traveled to fill a void as heavy as his limping gait.
Also oak, which evoked a little tree to which he owed his misfortune inspired him there from the outset a raging antipathy. Solid, black crooked branches devoid of leaves at the end of winter, it was a challenge to the area of the clearing, he filled a wide load greatly. Man, that solitude was accustomed to speak only said aloud the thoughts that assailed him vengeful more beautiful.
"should you down, be harmful. Or rather t'élaguer, t'ébrancher until the last branch, set fire to your trunk to look at naked hot days and nights. "Hatred swelled his chest, his breath short and showed the violence that barred his mind. When he found
a little calm, he inhaled a deep breath he found smelly, charged with a putrid smell sweet and like a decaying flesh.
"You stink of carrion, and more! "He cried. By challenging the tree, he looked up and saw the top waving a branch of the sky high and black, as if a gust shook. Yet, the day the wind had fallen the night from the forest and did not move while the light fell. This unusual movement in the calm income was marked by his growing leaves rustling, even though the branch was completely naked. The neighboring branches were soon won by agitation and soon the whole tree was shaken in a noise storm.
"Damn! Cursed! One day I will cut off the evil contained in your boughs! The din became terrible and branches twisted into a frenzy of tornado impossible.
light suddenly lowered, and a blue haze sparkling rose from the ground. A gust of icy wind assailed the clearing, but the fog was not dispersed and continued to climb as a milky sea in the dusk, thickening like a viscous pitch. A sulfur stench pervades the scene, and the branches of the tree began to crack and break in a terrible crash.
Then a blinding flash and a huge clap of thunder crashed down and the tree toppled.
The next day at dawn, following a hunter with his dog on the trail of a boar came out of the woods into the clearing. He had a great fear when he saw that the oak, which he had always known after father and grandfather, was lying at full length shot, roots to the air just spotted a black earth.
Looking around, he noticed that it was almost as tall lying down than standing, as its size was equal to its size. Its huge antlers was a big part of the clearing and branches to the ground, many broken by the fall, forming a maze so tight that he did not immediately the man's body.
The facial features relaxed, he seemed asleep. Not a drop of blood was visible. The four members were missing.
Philippe RENEVE
- oOo -
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