The Tartar Steppe. Dino Buzzati

last Captain Ortiz said: ‘I didn’t catch your name at that distance a little while ago. Droso, wasn’t it?’

      ‘Drogo, with a “g”’ Giovanni answered, ‘Giovanni Drogo. But really, sir, you must excuse me if I shouted back there. You see,’ he added with confusion, ‘I didn’t see your rank across the valley.’

      ‘No, you couldn’t see,’ Ortiz admitted, not bothering to contradict him, and he laughed.

      They rode on thus a while, both a little embarrassed. Then Ortiz said: ‘And where are you bound for like this?’

      ‘For Fort Bastiani. Isn’t this the road?’

      ‘Yes, it is.’

      They fell silent. It was hot; on all sides there were still mountains, huge wild grass-covered mountains.

      ‘So you are coming to the Fort?’ said Ortiz. ‘Is it with a dispatch?’

      ‘No, sir, I am going on duty. I have been posted there.’

      ‘Posted to the strength?’

      ‘I believe so, to the strength, my first posting.’

      ‘I see, to the strength, quite right. Good, good. May I congratulate you?’

      ‘Thank you, sir.’

      They fell silent again and rode on a little further. Giovanni had a tremendous thirst; there was a wooden water-bottle hanging by the captain’s saddle and you could hear the glug-glug of the water in it.

      ‘For two years?’ asked Ortiz.

      ‘I beg your pardon, sir – did you say for two years?’

      ‘Yes, for two years – you will be doing the usual two years’ tour of duty, won’t you?’

      ‘Two years? I don’t know. They didn’t tell me for how long.’

      ‘But of course it’s two years – all you newly commissioned lieutenants do two years, then you leave.’

      ‘Two years is the usual for everyone?’

      ‘Of course it’s two years – for seniority they count as four. That’s the important thing. Otherwise no one would apply for the post. Well, if it means a quick rise I suppose you can get used to the Fort, what d’you say?’

      Drogo had never heard of this, but, not wishing to cut a stupid figure, he tried a vague phrase:

      ‘Of course, a lot of them …’

      Ortiz did not press the point; apparently the topic did not interest him. But now that the ice was broken, Giovanni hazarded a question:

      ‘So at the Fort everyone has double seniority?’

      ‘Who is everyone?’

      ‘I mean the other officers.’

      Ortiz chuckled.

      ‘The whole lot of them! That’s good. Only the subalterns, of course, otherwise who would ask to be posted to it?’

      ‘I didn’t,’ said Drogo.

      ‘You didn’t?’

      ‘No, sir, I learned only two days ago that I had been posted to the Fort.’

      ‘Well, that’s certainly odd.’

      Once more they were silent, each apparently thinking different thoughts.

      ‘Of course,’ said Ortiz, ‘it might mean …’

      Giovanni shook himself.

      ‘You were saying, sir?’

      ‘I was saying – it might mean that no one else asked for the posting and so they assigned you officially.’

      ‘Perhaps that’s it, sir.’

      ‘Yes, that must be it, right enough.’

      Drogo watched the clear-cut shadow of the two horses on the dust of the road, their heads nodding at every step; he heard only the fourfold beat of their hooves, the hum of a fly. The end of the road was still not in sight. Every now and again when the valley curved one could see the road ahead, very high up, cut into precipitous hillsides, climbing in zigzags. They would reach that spot, look up and there the road was still in front of them, still climbing higher.

      ‘Excuse me, sir,’ asked Drogo.

      ‘Yes, what is it?’

      ‘Is it still far?’

      ‘Not very – about two and a half hours, perhaps three at this pace. Perhaps we will be there by midday.’

      They were silent for a while; the horses were in a lather – the captain’s was tired and dragged its hooves.

      ‘You are from the Royal Military Academy, I suppose?’ said Ortiz.

      ‘Yes, sir, from the Academy.’

      ‘I see – and tell me, is Colonel Magnus still there?’

      ‘Colonel Magnus? I don’t think so. I don’t know him.’

      The valley was narrowing now, shutting out the sunlight from the pass. Every now and again dark ravines opened off it and down them there came icy winds; at the head of the ravines one caught sight of steep, steep peaks. So high did they seem, that you would have said two or three days were not time enough to reach the summit.

      ‘And tell me,’ said Ortiz, ‘is Major Bosco still there? Does he still run the musketry course?’

      ‘No, sir, I don’t think so. There’s Zimmermann – Major Zimmermann.’

      ‘Yes, Zimmermann, that’s right, I’ve heard his name. The point is that it is a good many years since my time. They will all be different now.’

      Both now had their own thoughts. The road had come out into the sun again, mountain followed mountain, even steeper now with rock faces here and there.

      ‘I saw it in the distance yesterday evening,’ said Drogo.

      ‘What – the Fort?’

      ‘Yes, the Fort.’ He paused, then added to show that he knew how to behave: ‘It must be very large, isn’t it? It seemed immense to me.’

      ‘The Fort – very large? No, no, it is one of the smallest – a very old building. It is only from the distance that it looks a little impressive.’

      He was silent for a moment, then added:

      ‘Very, very old and completely out of date.’

      ‘But isn’t it one of the principal ones?’

      ‘No, no, it’s a second class fort,’ Ortiz replied. He seemed to enjoy belittling it but with a special tone of voice – in the same way as one amuses oneself by remarking on the defects of a son, certain that they will always seem trifling when set against his unlimited virtues.

      ‘It is a dead stretch of frontier,’ Ortiz added, ‘and so they never changed it. It has always remained as it was a century ago.’

      ‘What do you mean – a dead frontier?’

      ‘A frontier which gives no worry. Beyond there is a great desert.’

      ‘A desert?’

      ‘That’s right – a desert. Stones and parched earth – they call it the Tartar steppe.’

      ‘Why Tartar?’ asked Drogo. ‘Were there ever Tartars there?’

      ‘Long, long ago, I believe. But it is a legend more than anything else. No one can have come across it – not even in the last wars.’

      ‘So the Fort has never been any use?’

      ‘None at all,’ said the captain.

      As the road rose