I usually don't get scared, because I've heard all the sounds before, but not this one. I heard snorting, like the sound of a pig, a screeching squeal and air blowing through nostrils, like the sound a horse makes. And I knew it was big from the weight of its hooves (I assume) on the mud and leaves.
The sounds came quickly from the trees behind my tent, and then lingered near the front, which was still open! It had just gotten dark and only the inner mesh was zipped up, with my food still outside.
I sat up, adrenaline surging, and clapped my hands loudly, as this scares away wild deer. But the pig-horse didn't go away!
I was surprised at how much this scared me. I sat completely frozen, listening.
Then I found the courage to look through the mesh and turn on my headlamp, but as soon as I did, it only lit the material in front of my eyes, blinding me, so then I couldn't see anything.
I switched it off again and wildly thought about how much defence the walls of my tent would offer against this evil creature. The manufacturer says it is 'rip-stop' nylon: Would it stop a horn? Or teeth? I told myself it would definitely confuse the creature, to have its prey surrounded by a strange, waterproof shield. It might buy me some extra moments of life.
Some time passed, and I heard the sounds move away, but I then felt extremely vulnerable, and I needed the toilet. I thought: What is the worst that could happen if the pig-horse returned and it came down to a one-on-one brawl?
I had been reading Sapiens: A Brief History of Humanity, so I knew that the muscles of humans had shrunk over millions of years, to spare the energy required for our oversized brains. As a result, we rely on wits, tools and cooperation to fight stronger animals.
So I figured I would lose, and would have to drag myself, injured, to the nearby road, flag down a car and ask them in French to call an ambulance, as my phone had died. And then I thought: What a good blog post that would make!
I put on my pigskin work gloves (for grabbing ahold of tusks) and, with my Opinel knife in my teeth, I clambered out of the tent and fearfully relieved myself, glancing in all directions with my headlamp.
Now that it's morning, it all seems funny, but I think I will be just as scared if it happens again.
Here is a picture of my camp:
P.S. The pig-horse was probably a wild boar, which is about as dangerous as it gets in the French countryside (aside from stray bullets).
Add comment