MADAME MOUMOUTTE CHINOISE
DEUXIÈME CHATTE
Chez M. Pierre Loti.
MOST singular was the destiny which united to me this cat of the yellow race, progeny of obscure parentage and destitute of all beauty.
It was at the close of our last foreign war, one of those evenings of revelry which often occurred at that time. I know not how the little distraught creature, driven from some wrecked junk or sampan, came on board our warship, in great terror, seeking a refuge in my cabin beneath my berth. She was young, not half grown, thin and melancholy, having doubtless, like her relatives and masters, subsisted meanly on fishes’ heads with a bit of cooked rice. I pitied her much and bade my servant give her food and drink.
With an unmistakable air of humility and gratitude she accepted my kindness,—and I can see her now, creeping slowly toward the unhoped-for repast, advancing first one foot, then another, her clear eyes fixed on mine to assure herself that she was not deceived, that it was really intended for her.
In the morning I wished to turn her away. After giving her a farewell breakfast, I clapped my hands loudly, and stamping both feet together by way of emphasis, I said in a harsh tone, “Get out, go away, little Kitty!”
“ADVANCING ... HER CLEAR EYES FIXED ON MINE”
But no, she did not go, the little pagan. Evidently she felt no fear of me, intuitively certain that all this angry noise was a pretense. With an air that seemed to say, “I know very well that you will not harm me,” she crouched silently in the corner, lying close to the floor in a supplicating attitude, fixing upon me two dilated eyes, alight with a human look that I have never seen except in hers.
What could I do? Impossible to domicile a cat in the contracted cabin of a warship. Besides, she was such a distressingly homely little creature, what an encumbrance by and by!
Then I lifted her carefully to my neck, saying to her, “I am very sorry, Kitty;” but I carried her resolutely the length of the deck, to the further end of the battery, to the sailors’ quarters, who usually are both fond of and kind to cats of whatever age or pedigree.
Flattened close to the deck, her head imploringly turned towards me, she gave me one beseeching look; then rose and fled with a queer and swift gait in the direction of my cabin, where she arrived first in the race between us; when I entered I found her crouched obstinately in the corner from which I had taken her, with an expression, a remonstrance in her golden eyes, that deprived me of all courage to again take her away. And this is the way by which Pussy Chinese chose me for her owner and protector.
My servant, evidently on her side from the début of the contest, completed immediate preparations for her installment in my cabin, by placing beneath my bed a lined basket for her bed, and one of my large Chinese bowls, very practically filled with sand; an arrangement which froze me with fright.
(V)