Pyg (3 page)

What the result of this Outcry might have been, I was never to know, for before it could conclude, Mr Wilson put the whip to his Horses and set off down the Lane at a Frightening rate. The
voices faded into the distance, although it seemed to me that Sam’s, for a moment at least, was endeavouring to keep Pace. Heedless of such pleas, my new Owner drove the wagon onwards as
though it were a Fire-engine racing to extinguish some horrific
Blaze
. It was a good while later when, his horses snorting with exhaustion, the Lane growing every moment rougher and (so it
seemed) more twisted, he was obliged to slow his Progress and, as we soon came to a steep incline, had for a time to Halt. The Wretchedness felt by those within would be impossible to Overstate; we
had been tossed about among the foetid Straw, and hurled both against each
Other
and the walls of our Enclosure, so severely that we were much Bruised, and nearly knocked Senseless. And yet
even in this Wounded state, I felt a great leaping in my heart as I detected, just a few inches from where I lay, the unmistakable sound of a Boy breathing.

I uttered no answering Cry, and gave no sign of Recognition, knowing without having to be told that it would be an
Awful
thing to disclose the presence of this youthful
Stowaway
to
our infernal Conductor. And, indeed, it was not long before he once more cracked his
Whip
and sent us speeding over the hill and Down, with every living thing Careering about as though we
were so much Laundry in a Mangle cranked by a
Madman
. It was nearly dawn, and I could just make out the singing of a Lark through the mire-spattered slats of my Confine, when we pulled into
Mr Wilson’s premises. I thought, too, that I could hear my Breathing boy, but with the rattle and ring of our Ride in my ears, I could not be absolutely certain. The sound of our Owner
speaking with one of his
Hands
, and the sound of the horses being unhitched and led to his Stables, gave us at least a partial Augury of
Peace
, and I suppose that I must almost
instantly have fallen Asleep. My next recollection was of being awakened by the sound of the Ramp as it was once more attached to our Enclosure, as the dim glimmer of the afternoon Sun painted
stripes upon the floor. Up we went, and over, and were Herded by men with long Poles into a Pen, which was, if such were possible, more
Filthy
than our previous habitation. The belief that
Pigs, simply because they appreciate the cooling properties of some lovely clean
Mud
, are therefore inured to any sort of Refuse, or even love to Gambol in
Faeces
or Garbage, has such
wide circulation among Humans that we could scarce Dissuade them from it if we
Could
speak—and Mr Wilson’s faith in this notion was stronger than Most. The stench that arose from
the admixture of kitchen slops, manure and
Urine
suggested that this pen had not been cleaned out in many Months, if not Years.

Never the less, foul as it was, it was (at least) roofed with the
Sky
rather than the sharp boards of the wagon, and as long as there was even the slightest Breeze, it was considerably
more pleasant and Commodious. I looked about at once for my
Benefactor
, and hoped that he had been able to Drop from the wagon and secrete himself in some quiet corner of the
Barn
, or
find concealment within a convenient Bale of
Hay
. Just at that moment, I was most Rudely brought out of my Study, when a vast bucket of
Swill
—consisting of mouldy barley mixed
with water and rotted vegetables—was Dumped between (or rather
Upon
) my comrades and me, and we were at some pains to devour some portion of it, before it was hopelessly mixed with the
Mire. Let the
Human
who imagines this is Agreeable to
Pigs
take even the smallest quantity of this Stuff in his Cup—and he would surely be compelled to
Retch
even before
the Rim reached his Lips.

Having finished what we could of this very
Disagreeable
meal, we all of us fell into a sort of Stupor, which for a time made me believe that our meal had been conjoined with some Opiate
or other sleep-inducing
Drug
. I next woke in what seemed the stillest hour of the Night, with only the distant
Threnody
of autumnal insects, accompanied by the faint moan of the wind
in the trees in my ears—or
was
it? Or
could
it be? It was. From just inside the large and ill-kept
Barn
that loomed over our Sty, I was certain I could detect the
restless moaning of a Boy, who must surely be my Benefactor and my only
Friend
. But what could I do? Were I to break out of my confinement by
Force
, there would surely be a half-dozen
men upon me in a moment, shouting and cursing, and Mr Wilson with his bamboo
Cane
not far behind. I could make no sound, either, that would not have brought the same results, even if by some
means I could gain his Attention.

Looking closely at the posts of the Fence that confined me, I observed that they had been fixed in the ground with a sort of very rough Cement, which contained a sort of greyish gravel. Quite a
few bits of this had come loose, and were scattered about the base of each Post. With very little difficulty, by using my Snout, I was able to toss a few Skywards, whence they struck the corner of
a small Window on the side of the Barn, making a very distinct sound. I repeated this gesture several Times, and was immensely pleased, a moment later, to see Sam’s face peep above the
Window-sill, and Spy me out. How I wished I could have communicated my
State
, along with a word or two of Caution, to him! Yet despite this Lack, I could see the lad had his Senses about
him, and only smiled quietly through the cracked glass, then lowered his Head out of Sight. I was greatly Relieved, that at last we had some Means of alerting one another, and even though I could
hardly then Imagine how we might effect our
Escape
, I instantly believed—with every contraction of my beating
Heart
—that somehow we would manage it.

The next morning, I was awakened by a fresh dousing of Swill, which the keeper—a shovel-faced lad of perhaps sixteen years—delighted in pouring over our heads so as
to set us all in a Frenzy of feeding. I scarce partook of it, thinking only of how
Soon
I might be released from this my Bondage, and set upon my way in the World. And yet, only a Moment
later, I beheld a thing that nearly
Stopt
the very Course of my Being! For there, down the lane in our direction, came a wagon whose sides were all whitewashed, driven by a tall man wearing
a bloody Apron, a man whose function I immediately knew—if you will Pardon the Pun—in the most
Visceral
sense, was to Eviscerate us all. Apparently Mr Wilson, in every way a
Middle
-
man
in the great affair of buying and selling Livestock, had little Stomach for the Slaughter, or perhaps simply felt that Butchering was best left to
Butchers
. And so
at once, quite Heedless of the risk, I tossed up a great hail of Gravel upon the Barn window, without—I tremble to relate—the least Result. My Benefactor slept, I could only surmise,
unaware of this Imminent Sentence upon my
Life
, and I must Risk all to arouse him.

There being no time to Consider other Alternatives, I began to leap and squeal at the very Top of my
Voice
, and to dash about my Pen as though I were in the final Fit of some awful
distress; for at least, if I could not communicate my Situation, perhaps I could convince my new Owner that I was
Mad
, and therefore unfit for Human Consumption. The Butcher, however, paid
no heed to this Demonstration, continuing along the gravel path to the great House, as though such things were all too Familiar in his trade, and soon disappearing behind the Gate. My outburst,
however, finally had the Desired effect, of waking up young Sam from his straw-bed, and alerting him to the terrible
Danger
in which I stood.

He had only a Moment to think what to do, and his Wits did not desert him. He ran over to the pen and quickly lifted the rude Latch—consisting only of a bar of wood held fast by a rusted
Nail. I at once leapt out from my confinement, and together we hurried down the lane. I should here note that, the larger part of Mr Wilson’s farm being Pasture, a fence ran around its entire
perimeter, with a
Gate
at the end of the Lane being the only place it could be Crossed. We made for this gate, my Benefactor somewhat unsteady on his feet (which was no
Wonder
,
considering his journey here had been as Rough as ours, and I do not believe he had taken any Food), and myself labouring, unused as I was to the Exertions of any sort of
Journey
(having
never had either occasion or ability to undertake one), and thus by the time we reached our Goal, we were both of us Exhausted.

At that very moment, we saw the Butcher and Mr Wilson emerge from the front of the House; we had only a very brief interval before they would round the corner and come upon the opened Pen, about
which my former animal comrades were now milling quite Freely—and then they would surely
Spot
us.

Sam saw all this, same as me, and quickly lifted the latch of the Gate. I was already trotting down the next section of the lane, when I looked behind me and saw Sam had stayed behind; having
closed the gate, he was tying a bit of twine about the latch, such that it could not easily be opened by our
Pursuers
. Already, I could hear Shouts, Mr Wilson’s chief among them, and
it seemed to me I could almost feel the crack of his horrible
Cane
upon my sides. Having finished his work, Sam broke into a run, and soon caught up with me. Just ahead of us, he spotted a
small Gap in the thick Hedge that ran along one side of the road, and he quickly dashed through, beckoning me to follow. With some difficulty—the legs of a
Pig
being shorter and less
limber than those of a Boy—I managed to enter as well, and we found ourselves in a small copse of trees, where Silence hung heavy as the dead leaves upon the Ground, absorbing any sound
almost before it could be made. Sam quickly realized that such a natural
Bower
, dark and off the beaten Way, would be a far safer resting place than any open Field, and that we
might—with luck—remain unseen while our Pursuers, in the heat of their anger, passed on down the
Road
unawares. He quickly scooped up some leaves and twigs, and with a little
effort, managed to Cover me almost entirely; this accomplished, he pulled a similar
Blanket
over himself, and lay down pressed as tightly as he could to the ground, and to me. A moment
later, we heard the rush and clatter of a passing Wagon, whose Noise was too well known to me to Mistake—and then the delightful sound of its foul Spokes and
Fellies
rattling and
rotating away into
Nothing
in the distance. We slept, then.

4

H
aving been so earnestly desirous of finding my way through the World, I now discovered that it was a far Vaster and more Inhospitable place than I
could ever have
Imagined
. For the Animal, once Domesticated, it must ever be thus: they have been made a place beside Man, and given a purpose in life quite Contrary to that assigned them by
Nature; their Existence is not even properly their
Own
. I soon discovered that I was even
Less
at home in this New Life than I had been my
Last
, and I held out little hope that
this Disjointure within the order of things could ever be Mended. My Benefactor, of course, was as kindly and Protective as he could possibly be, obtaining wild roots and herbs for me to Eat, and
making each night a
Bed
for me upon the Heather. And yet, despite his good Intentions, his small hands could hardly Gather anything approaching the quantity of Food to which I, a
Prize
Pig
, had become accustomed; nor could I, having come from a
Line
that long ago had had its natural Talents bred out of it, manage any better for
Myself
.