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diff --git a/784-h/784-h.htm b/784-h/784-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f81a811 --- /dev/null +++ b/784-h/784-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,7484 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Boyhood in Norway, by Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Boyhood in Norway, by Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Boyhood in Norway + +Author: Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen + +Release Date: July 23, 2008 [EBook #784] +Last Updated: October 18, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOYHOOD IN NORWAY *** + + + + +Produced by Charles Keller, and David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + BOYHOOD IN NORWAY + </h1> + <h2> + Stories Of Boy-Life In The Land Of The Midnight Sun + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <b>THE BATTLE OF THE RAFTS</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> I. THE ORIGIN OF THE WAR </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> II. THE CLASH OF ARMS </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> <b>BICEPS GRIMLUND’S CHRISTMAS VACATION</b> + </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> IV. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> <b>THE NIXY’S STRAIN</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> <b>THE WONDER CHILD</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> II. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> <b>"THE SONS OF THE VIKINGS"</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> IV. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> <b>PAUL JESPERSEN’S MASQUERADE</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0019"> <b>LADY CLARE THE STORY OF A HORSE</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0020"> <b>BONNYBOY</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0021"> I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0022"> II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0023"> III. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0024"> IV. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0025"> V. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> VI. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> <b>THE CHILD OF LUCK</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> II. </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> <b>THE BEAR THAT HAD A BANK ACCOUNT</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> I. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> II. </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> III. </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE BATTLE OF THE RAFTS + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. THE ORIGIN OF THE WAR + </h2> + <p> + A deadly feud was raging among the boys of Numedale. The East-Siders hated + the West-Siders, and thrashed them when they got a chance; and the + West-Siders, when fortune favored them, returned the compliment with + interest. It required considerable courage for a boy to venture, + unattended by comrades, into the territory of the enemy; and no one took + the risk unless dire necessity compelled him. + </p> + <p> + The hostile parties had played at war so long that they had forgotten that + it was play; and now were actually inspired with the emotions which they + had formerly simulated. Under the leadership of their chieftains, Halvor + Reitan and Viggo Hook, they held councils of war, sent out scouts, planned + midnight surprises, and fought at times mimic battles. I say mimic + battles, because no one was ever killed; but broken heads and bruised + limbs many a one carried home from these engagements, and unhappily one + boy, named Peer Oestmo, had an eye put out by an arrow. + </p> + <p> + It was a great consolation to him that he became a hero to all the + West-Siders and was promoted for bravery in the field to the rank of first + lieutenant. He had the sympathy of all his companions in arms and got + innumerable bites of apples, cancelled postage stamps, and colored + advertising-labels in token of their esteem. + </p> + <p> + But the principal effect of this first serious wound was to invest the war + with a breathless and all-absorbing interest. It was now no longer “make + believe,” but deadly earnest. Blood had flowed; insults had been exchanged + in due order, and offended honor cried for vengeance. + </p> + <p> + It was fortunate that the river divided the West-Siders from the + East-Siders, or it would have been difficult to tell what might have + happened. Viggo Hook, the West-Side general, was a handsome, high-spirited + lad of fifteen, who was the last person to pocket an injury, as long as + red blood flowed in his veins, as he was wont to express it. He was the + eldest son of Colonel Hook of the regular army, and meant some day to be a + Von Moltke or a Napoleon. He felt in his heart that he was destined for + something great; and in conformity with this conviction assumed a superb + behavior, which his comrades found very admirable. + </p> + <p> + He had the gift of leadership in a marked degree, and established his + authority by a due mixture of kindness and severity. Those boys whom he + honored with his confidence were absolutely attached to him. Those whom, + with magnificent arbitrariness, he punished and persecuted, felt meekly + that they had probably deserved it; and if they had not, it was somehow in + the game. + </p> + <p> + There never was a more absolute king than Viggo, nor one more abjectly + courted and admired. And the amusing part of it was that he was at heart a + generous and good-natured lad, but possessed with a lofty ideal of + heroism, which required above all things that whatever he said or did must + be striking. He dramatized, as it were, every phrase he uttered and every + act he performed, and modelled himself alternately after Napoleon and + Wellington, as he had seen them represented in the old engravings which + decorated the walls in his father’s study. + </p> + <p> + He had read much about heroes of war, ancient and modern, and he lived + about half his own life imagining himself by turns all sorts of grand + characters from history or fiction. + </p> + <p> + His costume was usually in keeping with his own conception of these + characters, in so far as his scanty opportunities permitted. An old, + broken sword of his father’s, which had been polished until it “flashed” + properly, was girded to a brass-mounted belt about his waist; an ancient, + gold-braided, military cap, which was much too large, covered his curly + head; and four tarnished brass buttons, displaying the Golden Lion of + Norway, gave a martial air to his blue jacket, although the rest were + plain horn. + </p> + <p> + But quite independently of his poor trappings Viggo was to his comrades an + august personage. I doubt if the Grand Vizier feels more flattered and + gratified by the favor of the Sultan than little Marcus Henning did, when + Viggo condescended to be civil to him. + </p> + <p> + Marcus was small, round-shouldered, spindle-shanked, and freckle-faced. + His hair was coarse, straight, and the color of maple sirup; his nose was + broad and a little flattened at the point, and his clothes had a knack of + never fitting him. They were made to grow in and somehow he never caught + up with them, he once said, with no intention of being funny. His father, + who was Colonel Hook’s nearest neighbor, kept a modest country shop, in + which you could buy anything, from dry goods and groceries to shoes and + medicines. You would have to be very ingenious to ask for a thing which + Henning could not supply. The smell in the store carried out the same + idea; for it was a mixture of all imaginable smells under the sun. + </p> + <p> + Now, it was the chief misery of Marcus that, sleeping, as he did, in the + room behind the store, he had become so impregnated with this curious + composite smell that it followed him like an odoriferous halo, and + procured him a number of unpleasant nicknames. The principal ingredient + was salted herring; but there was also a suspicion of tarred ropes, plug + tobacco, prunes, dried codfish, and oiled tarpaulin. + </p> + <p> + It was not so much kindness of heart as respect for his own dignity which + made Viggo refrain from calling Marcus a “Muskrat” or a “Smelling-Bottle.” + And yet Marcus regarded this gracious forbearance on his part as the mark + of a noble soul. He had been compelled to accept these offensive + nicknames, and, finding rebellion vain, he had finally acquiesced in them. + </p> + <p> + He never loved to be called a “Muskrat,” though he answered to the name + mechanically. But when Viggo addressed him as “base minion,” in his wrath, + or as “Sergeant Henning,” in his sunnier moods, Marcus felt equally + complimented by both terms, and vowed in his grateful soul eternal + allegiance and loyalty to his chief. + </p> + <p> + He bore kicks and cuffs with the same admirable equanimity; never + complained when he was thrown into a dungeon in a deserted pigsty for + breaches of discipline of which he was entirely guiltless, and trudged + uncomplainingly through rain and sleet and snow, as scout or spy, or + what-not, at the behest of his exacting commander. + </p> + <p> + It was all so very real to him that he never would have thought of + doubting the importance of his mission. He was rather honored by the trust + reposed in him, and was only intent upon earning a look or word of scant + approval from the superb personage whom he worshipped. + </p> + <p> + Halvor Reitan, the chief of the East-Siders, was a big, burly peasant lad, + with a pimpled face, fierce blue eyes, and a shock of towy hair. But he + had muscles as hard as twisted ropes, and sinews like steel. + </p> + <p> + He had the reputation, of which he was very proud, of being the strongest + boy in the valley, and though he was scarcely sixteen years old, he + boasted that he could whip many a one of twice his years. He had, in fact, + been so praised for his strength that he never neglected to accept, or + even to create, opportunities for displaying it. + </p> + <p> + His manner was that of a bully; but it was vanity and not malice which + made him always spoil for a fight. He and Viggo Hook had attended the + parson’s “Confirmation Class,” together, and it was there their hostility + had commenced. + </p> + <p> + Halvor, who conceived a dislike of the tall, rather dainty, and disdainful + Viggo, with his aquiline nose and clear, aristocratic features, + determined, as he expressed it, to take him down a peg or two; and the + more his challenges were ignored the more persistent he grew in his + insults. + </p> + <p> + He dubbed Viggo “Missy.” He ran against him with such violence in the hall + that he knocked his head against the wainscoting; he tripped him up on the + stairs by means of canes and sticks; and he hired his partisans who sat + behind Viggo to stick pins into him, while he recited his lessons. And + when all these provocations proved unavailing he determined to dispense + with any pretext, but simply thrash his enemy within an inch of his life + at the first opportunity which presented itself. He grew to hate Viggo and + was always aching to molest him. + </p> + <p> + Halvor saw plainly enough that Viggo despised him, and refused to notice + his challenges, not so much because he was afraid of him, as because he + regarded himself as a superior being who could afford to ignore insults + from an inferior, without loss of dignity. + </p> + <p> + During recess the so-called “genteel boys,” who had better clothes and + better manners than the peasant lads, separated themselves from the rest, + and conversed or played with each other. No one will wonder that such + behavior was exasperating to the poorer boys. I am far from defending + Viggo’s behavior in this instance. He was here, as everywhere, the + acknowledged leader; and therefore more cordially hated than the rest. It + was the Roundhead hating the Cavalier; and the Cavalier making merry at + the expense of the Roundhead. + </p> + <p> + There was only one boy in the Confirmation Class who was doubtful as to + what camp should claim him, and that was little Marcus Henning. He was a + kind of amphibious animal who, as he thought, really belonged nowhere. His + father was of peasant origin, but by his prosperity and his occupation had + risen out of the class to which he was formerly attached, without yet + rising into the ranks of the gentry, who now, as always, looked with scorn + upon interlopers. Thus it came to pass that little Marcus, whose + inclinations drew him toward Viggo’s party, was yet forced to associate + with the partisans of Halvor Reitan. + </p> + <p> + It was not a vulgar ambition “to pretend to be better than he was” which + inspired Marcus with a desire to change his allegiance, but a deep, + unreasoning admiration for Viggo Hook. He had never seen any one who + united so many superb qualities, nor one who looked every inch as noble as + he did. + </p> + <p> + It did not discourage him in the least that his first approaches met with + no cordial reception. His offer to communicate to Viggo where there was a + hawk’s nest was coolly declined, and even the attractions of fox dens and + rabbits’ burrows were valiantly resisted. Better luck he had with a pair + of fan-tail pigeons, his most precious treasure, which Viggo rather + loftily consented to accept, for, like most genteel boys in the valley, he + was an ardent pigeon-fancier, and had long vainly importuned his father to + procure him some of the rarer breeds. + </p> + <p> + He condescended to acknowledge Marcus’s greeting after that, and to + respond to his diffident “Good-morning” and “Good-evening,” and Marcus was + duly grateful for such favors. He continued to woo his idol with raisins + and ginger-snaps from the store, and other delicate attentions, and bore + the snubs which often fell to his lot with humility and patience. + </p> + <p> + But an event soon occurred which was destined to change the relations of + the two boys. Halvor Reitan called a secret meeting of his partisans, + among whom he made the mistake to include Marcus, and agreed with them to + lie in ambush at the bend of the road, where it entered the forest, and + attack Viggo Hook and his followers. Then, he observed, he would “make him + dance a jig that would take the starch out of him.” + </p> + <p> + The others declared that this would be capital fun, and enthusiastically + promised their assistance. Each one selected his particular antipathy to + thrash, though all showed a marked preference for Viggo, whom, however, + for reason of politeness, they were obliged to leave to the chief. Only + one boy sat silent, and made no offer to thrash anybody, and that was + Marcus Henning. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Muskrat,” cried Halvor Reitan, “whom are you going to take on your + conscience?” + </p> + <p> + “No one,” said Marcus. + </p> + <p> + “Put the Muskrat in your pocket, Halvor,” suggested one of the boys; “he + is so small, and he has got such a hard bullet head, you might use him as + a club.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, one thing is sure,” shouted Halvor, as a dark suspicion shot + through his brain, “if you don’t keep mum, you will be a mighty sick coon + the day after to-morrow.” + </p> + <p> + Marcus made no reply, but got up quietly, pulled a rubber sling from his + pocket, and began, with the most indifferent manner in the world, to shoot + stones down the river. He managed during this exercise, which everybody + found perfectly natural, to get out of the crowd, and, without seeming to + have any purpose whatever, he continued to put a couple of hundred yards + between himself and his companion. + </p> + <p> + “Look a-here, Muskrat,” he heard Halvor cry, “you promised to keep mum.” + </p> + <p> + Marcus, instead of answering, took to his heels and ran. + </p> + <p> + “Boys, the scoundrel is going to betray us!” screamed the chief. “Now + come, boys! We’ve got to catch him, dead or alive.” + </p> + <p> + A volley of stones, big and little, was hurled after the fugitive, who now + realizing his position ran for dear life. The stones hailed down round + about him; occasionally one vicious missile would whiz past his ear, and + send a cold shudder through him. The tramp of his pursuers sounded nearer + and nearer, and his one chance of escape was to throw himself into the + only boat, which he saw on this side of the river, and push out into the + stream before he was overtaken. + </p> + <p> + He had his doubts as to whether he could accomplish this, for the blood + rushed and roared in his ears, the hill-side billowed under his feet, and + it seemed as if the trees were all running a race in the opposite + direction, in order to betray him to his enemies. + </p> + <p> + A stone gave him a thump in the back, but though he felt a gradual heat + spreading from the spot which it hit, he was conscious of no pain. + </p> + <p> + Presently a larger missile struck him in the neck, and he heard a + breathless snorting close behind him. That was the end; he gave himself up + for lost, for those boys would have no mercy on him if they captured him. + </p> + <p> + But in the next moment he heard a fall and an oath, and the voice was that + of Halvor Reitan. He breathed a little more freely as he saw the river run + with its swelling current at his feet. Quite mechanically, without clearly + knowing what he did, he sprang into the boat, grabbed a boat-hook, and + with three strong strokes pushed himself out into the deep water. + </p> + <p> + At that instant a dozen of his pursuers reached the river bank, and he saw + dimly their angry faces and threatening gestures, and heard the stones + drop into the stream about him. Fortunately the river was partly dammed, + in order to accumulate water for the many saw-mills under the falls. It + would therefore have been no very difficult feat to paddle across, if his + aching arms had had an atom of strength left in them. As soon as he was + beyond the reach of flying stones he seated himself in the stern, took an + oar, and after having bathed his throbbing forehead in the cold water, + managed, in fifteen minutes, to make the further bank. Then he dragged + himself wearily up the hill-side to Colonel Hook’s mansion, and when he + had given his message to Viggo, fell into a dead faint. + </p> + <p> + How could Viggo help being touched by such devotion? He had seen the race + through a fieldglass from his pigeon-cot, but had been unable to make out + its meaning, nor had he remotely dreamed that he was himself the cause of + the cruel chase. He called his mother, who soon perceived that Marcus’s + coat was saturated with blood in the back, and undressing him, she found + that a stone, hurled by a sling, had struck him, slid a few inches along + the rib, and had lodged in the fleshy part of his left side. + </p> + <p> + A doctor was now sent for; the stone was cut out without difficulty, and + Marcus was invited to remain as Viggo’s guest until he recovered. He felt + so honored by this invitation that he secretly prayed he might remain ill + for a month; but the wound showed an abominable readiness to heal, and + before three days were past Marcus could not feign any ailment which his + face and eye did not belie. + </p> + <p> + He then, with a heavy heart, betook himself homeward, and installed + himself once more among his accustomed smells behind the store, and + pondered sadly on the caprice of the fate which had made Viggo a + high-nosed, handsome gentleman, and him—Marcus Henning—an + under-grown, homely, and unrefined drudge. But in spite of his failure to + answer this question, there was joy within him at the thought that he had + saved this handsome face of Viggo’s from disfigurement, and—who + could know?—perhaps would earn a claim upon his gratitude. + </p> + <p> + It was this series of incidents which led to the war between the + East-Siders and the West-Siders. It was a mere accident that the partisans + of Viggo Hook lived on the west side of the river, and those of Halvor + Reitan mostly on the east side. + </p> + <p> + Viggo, who had a chivalrous sense of fair play, would never have molested + any one without good cause; but now his own safety, and, as he persuaded + himself, even his life, was in danger, and he had no choice but to take + measures in self-defence. He surrounded himself with a trusty body-guard, + which attended him wherever he went. He sent little Marcus, in whom he + recognized his most devoted follower, as scout into the enemy’s territory, + and swelled his importance enormously by lending him his field-glass to + assist him in his perilous observations. + </p> + <p> + Occasionally an unhappy East-Sider was captured on the west bank of the + river, court-martialed, and, with much solemnity, sentenced to death as a + spy, but paroled for an indefinite period, until it should suit his judges + to execute the sentence. The East-Siders, when they captured a West-Sider, + went to work with less ceremony; they simply thrashed their captive + soundly and let him run, if run he could. + </p> + <p> + Thus months passed. The parson’s Confirmation Class ceased, and both the + opposing chieftains were confirmed on the same day; but Viggo stood at the + head of the candidates, while Halvor had his place at the bottom. <a + href="#linknote-1" name="linknoteref-1" id="linknoteref-1"><small>1</small></a> + </p> + <p> + During the following winter the war was prosecuted with much zeal, and the + West-Siders, in imitation of Robin Hood and his Merry Men, armed + themselves with cross-bows, and lay in ambush in the underbrush, aiming + their swift arrows against any intruder who ventured to cross the river. + </p> + <p> + Nearly all the boys in the valley between twelve and sixteen became + enlisted on the one side or the other, and there were councils of war, + marches, and counter-marches without number, occasional skirmishes, but no + decisive engagements. Peer Oestmo, to be sure, had his eye put out by an + arrow, as has already been related, for the East-Siders were not slow to + imitate the example of their enemies, in becoming expert archers. + </p> + <p> + Marcus Henning was captured by a hostile outpost, and was being conducted + to the abode of the chief, when, by a clever stratagem, he succeeded in + making his escape. + </p> + <p> + The East-Siders despatched, under a flag of truce, a most insulting + caricature of General Viggo, representing him as a rooster that seemed on + the point of bursting with an excess of dignity. + </p> + <p> + These were the chief incidents of the winter, though there were many + others of less consequence that served to keep the boys in a delightful + state of excitement. They enjoyed the war keenly, though they pretended to + themselves that they were being ill-used and suffered terrible hardships. + They grumbled at their duties, brought complaints against their officers + to the general, and did, in fact, all the things that real soldiers would + have been likely to do under similar circumstances. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. THE CLASH OF ARMS + </h2> + <p> + When the spring is late in Norway, and the heat comes with a sudden rush, + the mountain streams plunge with a tremendous noise down into the valleys, + and the air is filled far and near with the boom and roar of rushing + waters. The glaciers groan, and send their milk-white torrents down toward + the ocean. The snow-patches in the forest glens look gray and soiled, and + the pines perspire a delicious resinous odor which cheers the soul with + the conviction that spring has come. + </p> + <p> + But the peasant looks anxiously at the sun and the river at such times, + for he knows that there is danger of inundation. The lumber, which the + spring floods set afloat in enormous quantities, is carried by the rivers + to the cities by the sea; there it is sorted according to the mark it + bears, showing the proprietor, and exported to foreign countries. + </p> + <p> + In order to prevent log-jams, which are often attended with terrible + disasters, men are stationed night and day at the narrows of the rivers. + The boys, to whom all excitement is welcome, are apt to congregate in + large numbers at such places, assisting or annoying the watchers, riding + on the logs, or teasing the girls who stand up on the hillside, admiring + the daring feats of the lumbermen. + </p> + <p> + It was on such a spring day, when the air was pungent with the smell of + sprouting birch and pine, that General Viggo and his trusty army had + betaken themselves to the cataract to share in the sport. They were armed + with their bows, as usual, knowing that they were always liable to be + surprised by their vigilant enemy. Nor were they in this instance + disappointed, for Halvor Reitan, with fifty or sixty followers, was + presently visible on the east side, and it was a foregone conclusion that + if they met there would be a battle. + </p> + <p> + The river, to be sure, separated them, but the logs were at times so + densely packed that it was possible for a daring lad to run far out into + the river, shoot his arrow and return to shore, leaping from log to log. + The Reitan party was the first to begin this sport, and an arrow hit + General Viggo’s hat before he gave orders to repel the assault. + </p> + <p> + Cool and dignified as he was, he could not consent to skip and jump on the + slippery logs, particularly as he had no experience in this difficult + exercise, while the enemy apparently had much. Paying no heed to the jeers + of the lumbermen, who supposed he was afraid, he drew his troops up in + line and addressed them as follows: + </p> + <p> + “Soldiers: You have on many previous occasions given me proof of your + fidelity to duty and your brave and fearless spirit. I know that I can, + now as always, trust you to shed glory upon our arms, and to maintain our + noble fame and honorable traditions. + </p> + <p> + “The enemy is before us. You have heard and seen his challenge. It + behooves us to respond gallantly. To jump and skip like rabbits is + unmilitary and unsoldierlike. I propose that each of us shall select two + large logs, tie them together, procure, if possible, a boat-hook or an + oar, and, sitting astride the logs, boldly push out into the river. If we + can advance in a tolerably even line, which I think quite possible, we can + send so deadly a charge into the ranks of our adversaries that they will + be compelled to flee. Then we will land on the east side, occupy the + heights, and rout our foe. + </p> + <p> + “Now let each man do his duty. Forward, march!” + </p> + <p> + The lumbermen, whose sympathies were with the East-Siders, found this + performance highly diverting, but Viggo allowed himself in nowise to be + disturbed by their laughter or jeers. He marched his troops down to the + river-front, commanded “Rest arms!” and repeated once more his + instructions; then, flinging off his coat and waistcoat, he seized a + boat-hook and ran some hundred yards along the bank of the stream. + </p> + <p> + The river-bed was here expanded to a wide basin, in which the logs floated + lazily down to the cataract below. Trees and underbrush, which usually + stood on dry land, were half-submerged in the yellow water, and the + current gurgled slowly about their trunks with muddy foam and bubbles. Now + and then a heap of lumber would get wedged in between the jutting rocks + above the waterfall, and then the current slackened, only to be suddenly + accelerated, when the exertions of the men had again removed the + obstruction. + </p> + <p> + It was an exciting spectacle to see these daring fellows leap from log to + log, with birch-bark shoes on their feet. They would ride on a heap of + lumber down to the very edge of the cataract, dexterously jump off at the + critical moment, and after half a dozen narrow escapes, reach the shore, + only to repeat the dangerous experiment, as soon as the next opportunity + offered itself. + </p> + <p> + It was the example of these hardy and agile lumbermen, trained from + childhood to sport with danger, which inspired Viggo and his followers + with a desire to show their mettle. + </p> + <p> + “Sergeant Henning,” said the General to his ever-faithful shadow, “take a + squad of five men with you, and cut steering-poles for those for whom + boat-hooks cannot be procured. You will be the last to leave shore. Report + to me if any one fails to obey orders.” + </p> + <p> + “Shall be done, General,” Marcus responded, with a deferential military + salute. + </p> + <p> + “The bows, you understand, will be slung by the straps across the backs of + the men, while they steer and push with their poles.” + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, General,” said Marcus, with another salute. + </p> + <p> + “You may go.” + </p> + <p> + “All right, General,” answered Marcus, with a third salute. + </p> + <p> + And now began the battle. The East-Siders, fearing that a stratagem was + intended, when they saw the enemy moving up the stream, made haste to + follow their example, capturing on their way every stray log that came + along. They sent ineffectual showers of arrows into the water, while the + brave General Viggo, striding two big logs which he had tied together with + a piece of rope, and with a boat-hook in his hand, pushed proudly at the + head of his army into the middle of the wide basin. + </p> + <p> + Halvor Reitan was clever enough to see what it meant, and he was not going + to allow the West-Siders to gain the heights above him, and attack him in + the rear. He meant to prevent the enemy from landing, or, still better, he + would meet him half-way, and drive him back to his own shore. + </p> + <p> + The latter, though not the wiser course, was the plan which Halvor Reitan + adopted. To have a tussle with the high-nosed Viggo in the middle of the + basin, to dislodge him from his raft—that seemed to Halvor a + delightful project. He knew that Viggo was a good swimmer, so he feared no + dangerous consequences; and even if he had, it would not have restrained + him. He was so much stronger than Viggo, and here was his much-longed-for + opportunity. + </p> + <p> + With great despatch he made himself a raft of two logs, and seating + himself astride them, with his legs in the water, put off from shore. He + shouted to his men to follow him, and they needed no urging. Viggo was now + near the middle of the basin, with twenty or thirty picked archers close + behind him. They fired volley after volley of arrows against the enemy, + and twice drove him back to the shore. + </p> + <p> + But Halvor Reitan, shielding his face with a piece of bark which he had + picked up, pushed forward in spite of their onslaught, though one arrow + knocked off his red-peaked cap, and another scratched his ear. Now he was + but a dozen feet from his foe. He cared little for his bow now; the + boat-hook was a far more effectual weapon. + </p> + <p> + Viggo saw at a glance that he meant to pull his raft toward him, and, + relying upon his greater strength, fling him into the water. + </p> + <p> + His first plan would therefore be to fence with his own boat-hook, so as + to keep his antagonist at a distance. + </p> + <p> + When Halvor made the first lunge at the nose of his raft, he foiled the + attempt with his own weapon, and managed dexterously to give the hostile + raft a downward push, which increased the distance between them. + </p> + <p> + “Take care, General!” said a respectful voice close to Viggo’s ear. “There + is a small log jam down below, which is getting bigger every moment. When + it is got afloat, it will be dangerous out here.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing here, Sergeant?” asked the General, severely. “Did I + not tell you to be the last to leave the shore?” + </p> + <p> + “You did, General,” Marcus replied, meekly, “and I obeyed. But I have + pushed to the front so as to be near you.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t need you, Sergeant,” Viggo responded, “you may go to the rear.” + </p> + <p> + The booming of the cataract nearly drowned his voice and Marcus pretended + not to hear it. A huge lumber mass was piling itself up among the rocks + jutting out of the rapids, and a dozen men hanging like flies on the logs, + sprang up and down with axes in their hands. They cut one log here and + another there; shouted commands; and fell into the river amid the derisive + jeers of the spectators; they scrambled out again and, dripping wet, set + to work once more with a cheerful heart, to the mighty music of the + cataract, whose thundering rhythm trembled and throbbed in the air. + </p> + <p> + The boys who were steering their rafts against each other in the + comparatively placid basin were too absorbed in their mimic battle to heed + what was going on below. Halvor and Viggo were fighting desperately with + their boat-hooks, the one attacking and the other defending himself with + great dexterity. They scarcely perceived, in their excitement, that the + current was dragging them slowly toward the cataract; nor did they note + the warning cries of the men and women on the banks. + </p> + <p> + Viggo’s blood was hot, his temples throbbed, his eyes flashed. He would + show this miserable clown who had dared to insult him, that the trained + skill of a gentleman is worth more than the rude strength of a bully. With + beautiful precision he foiled every attack; struck Halvor’s boat-hook up + and down, so that the water splashed about him, manoeuvring at the same + time his own raft with admirable adroitness. + </p> + <p> + Cheer upon cheer rent the air, after each of his successful sallies, and + his comrades, selecting their antagonists from among the enemy, now + pressed forward, all eager to bear their part in the fray. + </p> + <p> + Splash! splash! splash! one East-Sider was dismounted, got an involuntary + bath, but scrambled up on his raft again. The next time it was a + West-Sider who got a ducking, but seemed none the worse for it. There was + a yelling and a cheering, now from one side and now from the other, which + made everyone forget that something was going on at that moment of greater + importance than the mimic warfare of boys. + </p> + <p> + All the interest of the contending parties was concentrated on the duel of + their chieftains. It seemed now really that Halvor was getting the worst + of it. He could not get close enough to use his brawny muscles; and in + precision of aim and adroitness of movement he was not Viggo’s match. + </p> + <p> + Again and again he thrust his long-handled boat-hook angrily against the + bottom (for the flooded parts of the banks were very shallow), to push the + raft forward, but every time Viggo managed to turn it sideward, and Halvor + had to exert all his presence of mind to keep his seat. Wild with rage he + sprang up on his slender raft and made a vicious lunge at his opponent, + who warded the blow with such force that the handle of the boat-hook + broke, and Halvor lost his balance and fell into the water. + </p> + <p> + At this same instant a tremendous crash was heard from below, followed by + a long rumble as of mighty artillery. A scream of horror went up from the + banks, as the great lumber mass rolled down into the cataract, making a + sudden suction which it seemed impossible that the unhappy boys could + resist. + </p> + <p> + The majority of both sides, seeing their danger, beat, by means of their + boat-hooks, a hasty retreat, and as they were in shallow water were hauled + ashore by the lumbermen, who sprang into the river to save them. + </p> + <p> + When the clouds of spray had cleared away, only three figures were + visible. Viggo, still astride of his raft, was fighting, not for his own + life, but for that of his enemy, Halvor, who was struggling helplessly in + the white rapids. Close behind his commander stood little Marcus on his + raft, holding on, with one hand to the boat-hook which he had hewn, with + all his might, into Viggo’s raft, and with the other grasping the branch + of a half-submerged tree. + </p> + <p> + “Save yourself, General!” he yelled, wildly. “Let go there. I can’t hold + on much longer.” + </p> + <p> + But Viggo did not heed. He saw nothing but the pale, frightened face of + his antagonist, who might lose his life. With a desperate effort he flung + his boat-hook toward him and succeeded this time in laying hold of the + leather girdle about his waist. One hundred feet below yawned the foaming, + weltering abyss, from which the white smoke ascended. If Marcus lost his + grip, if the branch snapped no human power could save them; they were all + dead men. + </p> + <p> + By this time the people on the shore had discovered that three lives were + hanging on the brink of eternity. Twenty men had waded waist-deep into the + current and had flung a stout rope to the noble little fellow who was + risking his own life for his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Keep your hold, my brave lad!” they cried; “hold on another minute!” + </p> + <p> + “Grab the rope!” screamed others. + </p> + <p> + Marcus clinched his teeth, and his numb arms trembled, mist gathered in + his eyes—his heart stood still. But with a clutch that seemed + superhuman he held on. He had but one thought—Viggo, his chief! + Viggo, his idol! Viggo, his general! He must save him or die with him. One + end of the rope was hanging on the branch and was within easy reach; but + he did not venture to seize it, lest the wrench caused by his motion might + detach his hold on Viggo’s raft. + </p> + <p> + Viggo, who just now was pulling Halvor out of the water, saw in an instant + that he had by adding his weight to the raft, increased the chance of both + being carried to their death. With quick resolution he plunged the beak of + his own boat-hook into Marcus’s raft, and shouted to Halvor to save + himself. The latter, taking in the situation at a glance, laid hold of the + handle of the boat-hook and together they pulled up alongside of Marcus + and leaped aboard his raft, whereupon Viggo’s raft drifted downward and + vanished in a flash in the yellow torrent. + </p> + <p> + At that very instant Marcus’s strength gave out; he relaxed his grip on + the branch, which slid out of his hand, and they would inevitably have + darted over the brink of the cataract if Viggo had not, with great + adroitness, snatched the rope from the branch of the half-submerged tree. + </p> + <p> + A wild shout, half a cheer, half a cry of relief, went up from the banks, + as the raft with the three lads was slowly hauled toward the shore by the + lumbermen who had thrown the rope. + </p> + <p> + Halvor Reitan was the first to step ashore. But no joyous welcome greeted + him from those whose sympathies had, a little while ago, been all on his + side. He hung around uneasily for some minutes, feeling perhaps that he + ought to say something to Viggo who had saved his life, but as he could + not think of anything which did not seem foolish, he skulked away + unnoticed toward the edge of the forest. + </p> + <p> + But when Viggo stepped ashore, carrying the unconscious Marcus in his + arms, how the crowd rushed forward to gaze at him, to press his hands, to + call down God’s blessing upon him! He had never imagined that he was such + a hero. It was Marcus, not he, to whom their ovation was due. But poor + Marcus—it was well for him that he had fainted from over-exertion; + for otherwise he would have fainted from embarrassment at the honors which + would have been showered upon him. + </p> + <p> + The West-Siders, marching two abreast, with their bows slung across their + shoulders, escorted their general home, cheering and shouting as they + went. When they were half-way up the hillside, Marcus opened his eyes, and + finding himself so close to his beloved general, blushed crimson, scarlet, + and purple, and all the other shades that an embarrassed blush is capable + of assuming. + </p> + <p> + “Please, General,” he stammered, “don’t bother about me.” + </p> + <p> + Viggo had thought of making a speech exalting the heroism of his faithful + follower. But he saw at a glance that his praise would be more grateful to + Marcus, if he received it in private. + </p> + <p> + When, however, the boys gave him a parting cheer, in front of his father’s + mansion, he forgot his resolution, leaped up on the steps, and lifting the + blushing Marcus above his head; called out: + </p> + <p> + “Three cheers for the bravest boy in Norway!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BICEPS GRIMLUND’S CHRISTMAS VACATION + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <p> + The great question which Albert Grimlund was debating was fraught with + unpleasant possibilities. He could not go home for the Christmas vacation, + for his father lived in Drontheim, which is so far away from Christiania + that it was scarcely worth while making the journey for a mere two-weeks’ + holiday. Then, on the other hand, he had an old great-aunt who lived but a + few miles from the city. She had, from conscientious motives, he feared, + sent him an invitation to pass Christmas with her. But Albert had a poor + opinion of Aunt Elsbeth. He thought her a very tedious person. She had a + dozen cats, talked of nothing but sermons and lessons, and asked him + occasionally, with pleasant humor, whether he got many whippings at + school. She failed to comprehend that a boy could not amuse himself + forever by looking at the pictures in the old family Bible, holding yarn, + and listening to oft-repeated stories, which he knew by heart, concerning + the doings and sayings of his grandfather. Aunt Elsbeth, after a previous + experience with her nephew, had come to regard boys as rather a + reprehensible kind of animal, who differed in many of their ways from + girls, and altogether to the boys’ disadvantage. + </p> + <p> + Now, the prospect of being “caged” for two weeks with this estimable lady + was, as I said, not at all pleasant to Albert. He was sixteen years old, + loved out-door sports, and had no taste for cats. His chief pride was his + muscle, and no boy ever made his acquaintance without being invited to + feel the size and hardness of his biceps. This was a standing joke in the + Latin school, and Albert was generally known among his companions as + “Biceps” Grimlund. He was not very tall for his age, but broad-shouldered + and deep-chested, with something in his glance, his gait, and his manners + which showed that he had been born and bred near the sea. He cultivated a + weather-beaten complexion, and was particularly proud when the skin + “peeled” on his nose, which it usually did in the summer-time, during his + visits to his home in the extreme north. Like most blond people, when + sunburnt, he was red, not brown; and this became a source of great + satisfaction when he learned that Lord Nelson had the same peculiarity. + Albert’s favorite books were the sea romances of Captain Marryat, whose + “Peter Simple” and “Midshipman Easy” he held to be the noblest products of + human genius. It was a bitter disappointment to him that his father + forbade his going to sea and was educating him to be a “landlubber,” which + he had been taught by his boy associates to regard as the most + contemptible thing on earth. + </p> + <p> + Two days before Christmas, Biceps Grimlund was sitting in his room, + looking gloomily out of the window. He wished to postpone as long as + possible his departure for Aunt Elsbeth’s country-place, for he foresaw + that both he and she were doomed to a surfeit of each other’s company + during the coming fortnight. At last he heaved a deep sigh and languidly + began to pack his trunk. He had just disposed the dear Marryat books on + top of his starched shirts, when he heard rapid footsteps on the stairs, + and the next moment the door burst open, and his classmate, Ralph Hoyer, + rushed breathlessly into the room. + </p> + <p> + “Biceps,” he cried, “look at this! Here is a letter from my father, and he + tells me to invite one of my classmates to come home with me for the + vacation. Will you come? Oh, we shall have grand times, I tell you! No end + of fun!” + </p> + <p> + Albert, instead of answering, jumped up and danced a jig on the floor, + upsetting two chairs and breaking the wash-pitcher. + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah!” he cried, “I’m your man. Shake hands on it, Ralph! You have + saved me from two weeks of cats and yarn and moping! Give us your paw! I + never was so glad to see anybody in all my life.” + </p> + <p> + And to prove it, he seized Ralph by the shoulders, gave him a vigorous + whirl and forced him to join in the dance. + </p> + <p> + “Now, stop your nonsense,” Ralph protested, laughing; “if you have so much + strength to waste, wait till we are at home in Solheim, and you’ll have a + chance to use it profitably.” + </p> + <p> + Albert flung himself down on his old rep-covered sofa. It seemed to have + some internal disorder, for its springs rattled and a vague musical twang + indicated that something or other had snapped. It had seen much + maltreatment, that poor old piece of furniture, and bore visible marks of + it. When, after various exhibitions of joy, their boisterous delight had + quieted down, both boys began to discuss their plans for the vacation. + </p> + <p> + “But I fear my groom may freeze, down there in the street,” Ralph + ejaculated, cutting short the discussion; “it is bitter cold, and he can’t + leave the horses. Hurry up, now, old man, and I’ll help you pack.” + </p> + <p> + It did not take them long to complete the packing. Albert sent a telegram + to his father, asking permission to accept Ralph’s invitation; but, + knowing well that the reply would be favorable, did not think it necessary + to wait for it. With the assistance of his friend he now wrapped himself + in two overcoats, pulled a pair of thick woollen stockings over the + outside of his boots and a pair of fur-lined top-boots outside of these, + girded himself with three long scarfs, and pulled his brown otter-skin cap + down over his ears. He was nearly as broad as he was long, when he had + completed these operations, and descended into the street where the big + double-sleigh (made in the shape of a huge white swan) was awaiting them. + They now called at Ralph’s lodgings, whence he presently emerged in a + similar Esquimau costume, wearing a wolf-skin coat which left nothing + visible except the tip of his nose and the steam of his breath. Then they + started off merrily with jingling bells, and waved a farewell toward many + a window, wherein were friends and acquaintances. They felt in so jolly a + mood, that they could not help shouting their joy in the face of all the + world, and crowing over all poor wretches who were left to spend the + holidays in the city. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + Solheim was about twenty miles from the city, and it was nine o’clock in + the evening when the boys arrived there. The moon was shining brightly, + and the Milky Way, with its myriad stars, looked like a luminous mist + across the vault of the sky. The aurora borealis swept down from the north + with white and pink radiations which flushed the dark blue sky for an + instant, and vanished. The earth was white, as far as the eye could reach—splendidly, + dazzlingly white. And out of the white radiance rose the great dark pile + of masonry called Solheim, with its tall chimneys and dormer-windows and + old-fashioned gables. Round about stood the tall leafless maples and + chestnut-trees, sparkling with frost and stretching their gaunt arms + against the heavens. The two horses, when they swung up before the great + front-door, were so white with hoar-frost that they looked shaggy like + goats, and no one could tell what was their original color. Their breath + was blown in two vapory columns from their nostrils and drifted about + their heads like steam about a locomotive. + </p> + <p> + The sleigh-bells had announced the arrival of the guests, and a great + shout of welcome was heard from the hall of the house, which seemed alive + with grownup people and children. Ralph jumped out of the sleigh, embraced + at random half a dozen people, one of whom was his mother, kissed right + and left, protesting laughingly against being smothered in affection, and + finally managed to introduce his friend, who for the moment was feeling a + trifle lonely. + </p> + <p> + “Here, father,” he cried. “Biceps, this is my father; and, father, this is + my Biceps——” + </p> + <p> + “What stuff you are talking, boy,” his father exclaimed. “How can this + young fellow be your biceps——” + </p> + <p> + “Well, how can a man keep his senses in such confusion?” said the son of + the house. “This is my friend and classmate, Albert Grimlund, alias Biceps + Grimlund, and the strongest man in the whole school. Just feel his biceps, + mother, and you’ll see.” + </p> + <p> + “No, I thank you. I’ll take your word for it,” replied Mrs. Hoyer. “As I + intend to treat him as a friend of my son should be treated, I hope he + will not feel inclined to give me any proof of his muscularity.” + </p> + <p> + When, with the aid of the younger children, the travellers had divested + themselves of their various wraps and overcoats, they were ushered into + the old-fashioned sitting-room. In one corner roared an enormous, + many-storied, iron stove. It had a picture in relief, on one side, of + Diana the Huntress, with her nymphs and baying hounds. In the middle of + the room stood a big table, and in the middle of the table a big lamp, + about which the entire family soon gathered. It was so cosey and homelike + that Albert, before he had been half an hour in the room, felt gratefully + the atmosphere of mutual affection which pervaded the house. It amused him + particularly to watch the little girls, of whom there were six, and to + observe their profound admiration for their big brother. Every now and + then one of them, sidling up to him while he sat talking, would cautiously + touch his ear or a curl of his hair; and if he deigned to take any notice + of her, offering her, perhaps, a perfunctory kiss, her pride and pleasure + were charming to witness. + </p> + <p> + Presently the signal was given that supper was ready, and various savory + odors, which escaped, whenever a door was opened, served to arouse the + anticipations of the boys to the highest pitch. Now, if I did not have so + much else to tell you, I should stop here and describe that supper. There + were twenty-two people who sat down to it; but that was nothing unusual at + Solheim, for it was a hospitable house, where every wayfarer was welcome, + either to the table in the servants’ hall or to the master’s table in the + dining-room. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. + </h2> + <p> + At the stroke of ten all the family arose, and each in turn kissed the + father and mother good-night; whereupon Mr. Hoyer took the great lamp from + the table and mounted the stairs, followed by his pack of noisy boys and + girls. Albert and Ralph found themselves, with four smaller Hoyers, in an + enormous low-ceiled room with many windows. In three corners stood huge + canopied bedsteads, with flowered-chintz curtains and mountainous + eiderdown coverings which swelled up toward the ceiling. In the middle of + the wall, opposite the windows, a big iron stove, like the one in the + sitting-room (only that it was adorned with a bunch of flowers, peaches, + and grapes, and not with Diana and her nymphs), was roaring merrily, and + sending a long red sheen from its draught-hole across the floor. + </p> + <p> + Around the big warm stove the boys gathered (for it was positively + Siberian in the region of the windows), and while undressing played + various pranks upon each other, which created much merriment. But the most + laughter was provoked at the expense of Finn Hoyer, a boy of fourteen, + whose bare back his brother insisted upon exhibiting to his guest; for it + was decorated with a facsimile of the picture on the stove, showing roses + and luscious peaches and grapes in red relief. Three years before, on + Christmas Eve, the boys had stood about the red-hot stove, undressing for + their bath, and Finn, who was naked, had, in the general scrimmage to get + first into the bath-tub, been pushed against the glowing iron, the + ornamentation of which had been beautifully burned upon his back. He had + to be wrapped in oil and cotton after that adventure, and he recovered in + due time, but never quite relished the distinction he had acquired by his + pictorial skin. + </p> + <p> + It was long before Albert fell asleep; for the cold kept up a continual + fusillade, as of musketry, during the entire night. The woodwork of the + walls snapped and cracked with loud reports; and a little after midnight a + servant came in and stuffed the stove full of birch-wood, until it roared + like an angry lion. This roar finally lulled Albert to sleep, in spite of + the startling noises about him. + </p> + <p> + The next morning the boys were aroused at seven o’clock by a servant, who + brought a tray with the most fragrant coffee and hot rolls. It was in + honor of the guest that, in accordance with Norse custom, this early meal + was served; and all the boys, carrying pillows and blankets, gathered on + Albert’s and Ralph’s bed and feasted right royally. So it seemed to them, + at least; for any break in the ordinary routine, be it ever so slight, is + an event to the young. Then they had a pillow-fight, thawed at the stove + the water in the pitchers (for it was frozen hard), and arrayed themselves + to descend and meet the family at the nine o’clock breakfast. When this + repast was at an end, the question arose how they were to entertain their + guest, and various plans were proposed. But to all Ralph’s propositions + his mother interposed the objection that it was too cold. + </p> + <p> + “Mother is right,” said Mr. Hoyer; “it is so cold that ‘the chips jump on + the hill-side.’ You’ll have to be content with indoor sports to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “But, father, it is not more than twenty degrees below zero,” the boy + demurred. “I am sure we can stand that, if we keep in motion. I have been + out at thirty without losing either ears or nose.” + </p> + <p> + He went to the window to observe the thermometer; but the dim daylight + scarcely penetrated the fantastic frost-crystals, which, like a splendid + exotic flora, covered the panes. Only at the upper corner, where the ice + had commenced to thaw, a few timid sunbeams were peeping in, making the + lamp upon the table seem pale and sickly. Whenever the door to the hall + was opened a white cloud of vapor rolled in; and every one made haste to + shut the door, in order to save the precious heat. The boys, being doomed + to remain indoors, walked about restlessly, felt each other’s muscle, + punched each other, and sometimes, for want of better employment, teased + the little girls. Mr. Hoyer, seeing how miserable they were, finally took + pity on them, and, after having thawed out a window-pane sufficiently to + see the thermometer outside, gave his consent to a little expedition on + skees <a href="#linknote-2" name="linknoteref-2" id="linknoteref-2"><small>2</small></a> + down to the river. + </p> + <p> + And now, boys, you ought to have seen them! Now there was life in them! + You would scarcely have dreamed that they were the same creatures who, a + moment ago, looked so listless and miserable. What rollicking laughter and + fun, while they bundled one another in scarfs, cardigan-jackets, fur-lined + top-boots, and overcoats! + </p> + <p> + “You had better take your guns along, boys,” said the father, as they + stormed out through the front door; “you might strike a couple of + ptarmigan, or a mountain-cock, over on the west side.” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to take your rifle, if you’ll let me,” Ralph exclaimed. “I + have a fancy we might strike bigger game than mountain-cock. I shouldn’t + object to a wolf or two.” + </p> + <p> + “You are welcome to the rifle,” said his father; “but I doubt whether + you’ll find wolves on the ice so early in the day.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Hoyer took the rifle from its case, examined it carefully, and handed + it to Ralph. Albert, who was a less experienced hunter than Ralph, + preferred a fowling-piece to the rifle; especially as he had no + expectation of shooting anything but ptarmigan. Powder-horns, cartridges, + and shot were provided; and quite proudly the two friends started off on + their skees, gliding over the hard crust of the snow, which, as the sun + rose higher, was oversown with thousands of glittering gems. The boys + looked like Esquimaux, with their heads bundled up in scarfs, and nothing + visible except their eyes and a few hoary locks of hair which the frost + had silvered. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. + </h2> + <p> + “What was that?” cried Albert, startled by a sharp report which + reverberated from the mountains. They had penetrated the forest on the + west side, and ranged over the ice for an hour, in a vain search for + wolves. + </p> + <p> + “Hush,” said Ralph, excitedly; and after a moment of intent listening he + added, “I’ll be drawn and quartered if it isn’t poachers!” + </p> + <p> + “How do you know?” + </p> + <p> + “These woods belong to father, and no one else has any right to hunt in + them. He doesn’t mind if a poor man kills a hare or two, or a brace of + ptarmigan; but these chaps are after elk; and if the old gentleman gets on + the scent of elk-hunters, he has no more mercy than Beelzebub.” + </p> + <p> + “How can you know that they are after elk?” + </p> + <p> + “No man is likely to go to the woods for small game on a day like this. + They think the cold protects them from pursuit and capture.” + </p> + <p> + “What are you going to do about it?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to play a trick on them. You know that the sheriff, whose duty + it is to be on the lookout for elk-poachers, would scarcely send out a + posse when the cold is so intense. Elk, you know, are becoming very + scarce, and the law protects them. No man is allowed to shoot more than + one elf a year, and that one on his own property. Now, you and I will play + deputy-sheriffs, and have those poachers securely in the lock-up before + night.” + </p> + <p> + “But suppose they fight?” + </p> + <p> + “Then we’ll fight back.” + </p> + <p> + Ralph was so aglow with joyous excitement at the thought of this + adventure, that Albert had not the heart to throw cold water on his + enthusiasm. Moreover, he was afraid of being thought cowardly by his + friend if he offered objections. The recollection of Midshipman Easy and + his daring pranks flashed through his brain, and he felt an instant desire + to rival the exploits of his favorite hero. If only the enterprise had + been on the sea he would have been twice as happy, for the land always + seemed to him a prosy and inconvenient place for the exhibition of + heroism. + </p> + <p> + “But, Ralph,” he exclaimed, now more than ready to bear his part in the + expedition, “I have only shot in my gun. You can’t shoot men with + bird-shot.” + </p> + <p> + “Shoot men! Are you crazy? Why, I don’t intend to shoot anybody. I only + wish to capture them. My rifle is a breech-loader and has six cartridges. + Besides, it has twice the range of theirs (for there isn’t another such + rifle in all Odalen), and by firing one shot over their heads I can bring + them to terms, don’t you see?” + </p> + <p> + Albert, to be frank, did not see it exactly; but he thought it best to + suppress his doubts. He scented danger in the air, and his blood bounded + through his veins. + </p> + <p> + “How do you expect to track them?” he asked, breathlessly. + </p> + <p> + “Skee-tracks in the snow can be seen by a bat, born blind,” answered + Ralph, recklessly. + </p> + <p> + They were now climbing up the wooded slope on the western side of the + river. The crust of the frozen snow was strong enough to bear them; and as + it was not glazed, but covered with an inch of hoar-frost, it retained the + imprint of their feet with distinctness. They were obliged to carry their + skees, on account both of the steepness of the slope and the density of + the underbrush. Roads and paths were invisible under the white pall of the + snow, and only the facility with which they could retrace their steps + saved them from the fear of going astray. Through the vast forest a + deathlike silence reigned; and this silence was not made up of an infinity + of tiny sounds, like the silence of a summer day when the crickets whirr + in the treetops and the bees drone in the clover-blossoms. No; this + silence was dead, chilling, terrible. The huge pine-trees now and then + dropped a load of snow on the heads of the bold intruders, and it fell + with a thud, followed by a noiseless, glittering drizzle. As far as their + eyes could reach, the monotonous colonnade of brown tree-trunks, rising + out of the white waste, extended in all directions. It reminded them of + the enchanted forest in “Undine,” through which a man might ride forever + without finding the end. It was a great relief when, from time to time, + they met a squirrel out foraging for pine-cones or picking up a scanty + living among the husks of last year’s hazel-nuts. He was lively in spite + of the weather, and the faint noises of his small activities fell + gratefully upon ears already ap-palled by the awful silence. Occasionally + they scared up a brace of grouse that seemed half benumbed, and hopped + about in a melancholy manner under the pines, or a magpie, drawing in its + head and ruffling up its feathers against the cold, until it looked frowsy + and disreputable. + </p> + <p> + “Biceps,” whispered Ralph, who had suddenly discovered something + interesting in the snow, “do you see that?” + </p> + <p> + “Je-rusalem!” ejaculated Albert, with thoughtless delight, “it is a + hoof-track!” + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue, you blockhead,” warned his friend, too excited to be + polite, “or you’ll spoil the whole business!” + </p> + <p> + “But you asked me,” protested Albert, in a huff. + </p> + <p> + “But I didn’t shout, did I?” + </p> + <p> + Again the report of a shot tore a great rent in the wintry stillness and + rang out with sharp reverberations. + </p> + <p> + “We’ve got them,” said Ralph, examining the lock of his rifle. “That shot + settles them.” + </p> + <p> + “If we don’t look out, they may get us instead,” grumbled Albert, who was + still offended. + </p> + <p> + Ralph stood peering into the underbrush, his eyes as wild as those of an + Indian, his nostrils dilated, and all his senses intensely awake. His + companion, who was wholly unskilled in woodcraft, could see no cause for + his agitation, and feared that he was yet angry. He did not detect the + evidences of large game in the immediate neighborhood. He did not see, by + the bend of the broken twigs and the small tufts of hair on the + briar-bush, that an elk had pushed through that very copse within a few + minutes; nor did he sniff the gamy odor with which the large beast had + charged the air. In obedience to his friend’s gesture, he flung himself + down on hands and knees and cautiously crept after him through the + thicket. He now saw without difficulty a place where the elk had broken + through the snow crust, and he could also detect a certain aimless + bewilderment in the tracks, owing, no doubt, to the shot and the animal’s + perception of danger on two sides. Scarcely had he crawled twenty feet + when he was startled by a noise of breaking branches, and before he had + time to cock his gun, he saw an enormous bull-elk tearing through the + underbrush, blowing two columns of steam from his nostrils, and steering + straight toward them. At the same instant Ralph’s rifle blazed away, and + the splendid beast, rearing on its hind legs, gave a wild snort, plunged + forward and rolled on its side in the snow. Quick as a flash the young + hunter had drawn his knife, and, in accordance with the laws of the chase, + had driven it into the breast of the animal. But the glance from the dying + eyes—that glance, of which every elk-hunter can tell a moving tale—pierced + the boy to the very heart! It was such a touching, appealing, imploring + glance, so soft and gentle and unresentful. + </p> + <p> + “Why did you harm me,” it seemed to say, “who never harmed any living + thing—who claimed only the right to live my frugal life in the + forest, digging up the frozen mosses under the snow, which no mortal + creature except myself can eat?” + </p> + <p> + The sanguinary instinct—the fever for killing, which every boy + inherits from savage ancestors—had left Ralph, before he had pulled + the knife from the bleeding wound. A miserable feeling of guilt stole over + him. He never had shot an elk before; and his father, who was anxious to + preserve the noble beasts from destruction, had not availed himself of his + right to kill one for many years. Ralph had, indeed, many a time hunted + rabbits, hares, mountain-cock, and capercaillie. But they had never + destroyed his pleasure by arousing pity for their deaths; and he had + always regarded himself as being proof against sentimental emotions. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Biceps,” he said, flinging the knife into the snow, “I wish I + hadn’t killed that bull.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought we were hunting for poachers,” answered Albert, dubiously; “and + now we have been poaching ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + “By Jiminy! So we have; and I never once thought of it,” cried the valiant + hunter. “I am afraid we are off my father’s preserves too. It is well the + deputy sheriffs are not abroad, or we might find ourselves decorated with + iron bracelets before night.” + </p> + <p> + “But what did you do it for?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I can’t tell. It’s in the blood, I fancy. The moment I saw the + track and caught the wild smell, I forgot all about the poachers, and + started on the scent like a hound.” + </p> + <p> + The two boys stood for some minutes looking at the dead animal, not with + savage exultation, but with a dim regret. The blood which was gushing from + the wound in the breast froze in a solid lump the very moment it touched + the snow, although the cold had greatly moderated since the morning. + </p> + <p> + “I suppose we’ll have to skin the fellow,” remarked Ralph, lugubriously; + “it won’t do to leave that fine carcass for the wolves to celebrate + Christmas with.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” Albert answered, “I am not much of a hand at skinning, but + I’ll do the best I can.” + </p> + <p> + They fell to work rather reluctantly at the unwonted task, but had not + proceeded far when they perceived that they had a full day’s job before + them. + </p> + <p> + “I’ve no talent for the butcher’s trade,” Ralph exclaimed in disgust, + dropping his knife into the snow. “There’s no help for it, Biceps, we’ll + have to bury the carcass, pile some logs on the top of it, and send a + horse to drag it home to-morrow. If it were not Christmas Eve to-night we + might take a couple of men along and shoot a dozen wolves or more. For + there is sure to be pandemonium here before long, and a concert in G-flat + that’ll curdle the marrow of your bones with horror.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks,” replied the admirer of Midshipman Easy, striking a reckless + naval attitude. “The marrow of my bones is not so easily curdled. I’ve + been on a whaling voyage, which is more than you have.” + </p> + <p> + Ralph was about to vindicate his dignity by referring to his own valiant + exploits, when suddenly his keen eyes detected a slight motion in the + underbrush on the slope below. + </p> + <p> + “Biceps,” he said, with forced composure, “those poachers are tracking + us.” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” asked Albert, in vague alarm. + </p> + <p> + “Do you see the top of that young birch waving?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what of that!” + </p> + <p> + “Wait and see. It’s no good trying to escape. They can easily overtake us. + The snow is the worst tell-tale under the sun.” + </p> + <p> + “But why should we wish to escape? I thought we were going to catch them.” + </p> + <p> + “So we were; but that was before we turned poachers ourselves. Now those + fellows will turn the tables on us—take us to the sheriff and + collect half the fine, which is fifty dollars, as informers.” + </p> + <p> + “Je-rusalem!” cried Biceps, “isn’t it a beautiful scrape we’ve gotten + into?” + </p> + <p> + “Rather,” responded his friend, coolly. + </p> + <p> + “But why meekly allow ourselves to be captured? Why not defend ourselves?” + </p> + <p> + “My dear Biceps, you don’t know what you are talking about. Those fellows + don’t mind putting a bullet into you, if you run. Now, I’d rather pay + fifty dollars any day, than shoot a man even in self-defence.” + </p> + <p> + “But they have killed elk too. We heard them shoot twice. Suppose we play + the same game on them that they intend to play on us. We can play + informers too, then we’ll at least be quits.” + </p> + <p> + “Biceps, you are a brick! That’s a capital idea! Then let us start for the + sheriff’s; and if we get there first, we’ll inform both on ourselves and + on them. That’ll cancel the fine. Quick, now!” + </p> + <p> + No persuasions were needed to make Albert bestir himself. He leaped toward + his skees, and following his friend, who was a few rods ahead of him, + started down the slope in a zigzag line, cautiously steering his way among + the tree trunks. The boys had taken their departure none too soon; for + they were scarcely five hundred yards down the declivity, when they heard + behind them loud exclamations and oaths. Evidently the poachers had + stopped to roll some logs (which were lying close by) over the carcass, + probably meaning to appropriate it; and this gave the boys an advantage, + of which they were in great need. After a few moments they espied an open + clearing which sloped steeply down toward the river. Toward this Ralph had + been directing his course; for although it was a venturesome undertaking + to slide down so steep and rugged a hill, he was determined rather to + break his neck than lower his pride, and become the laughing-stock of the + parish. + </p> + <p> + One more tack through alder copse and juniper jungle—hard indeed, + and terribly vexatious—and he saw with delight the great open slope, + covered with an unbroken surface of glittering snow. The sun (which at + midwinter is but a few hours above the horizon) had set; and the stars + were flashing forth with dazzling brilliancy. Ralph stopped, as he reached + the clearing, to give Biceps an opportunity to overtake him; for Biceps, + like all marine animals, moved with less dexterity on the dry land. + </p> + <p> + “Ralph,” he whispered breathlessly, as he pushed himself up to his + companion with a vigorous thrust of his skee-staff, “there are two awful + chaps close behind us. I distinctly heard them speak.” + </p> + <p> + “Fiddlesticks,” said Ralph; “now let us see what you are made of! Don’t + take my track, or you may impale me like a roast pig on a spit. Now, + ready!—one, two, three!” + </p> + <p> + “Hold on there, or I shoot,” yelled a hoarse voice from out of the + underbrush; but it was too late; for at the same instant the two boys slid + out over the steep slope, and, wrapped in a whirl of loose snow, were + scudding at a dizzying speed down the precipitous hill-side. Thump, thump, + thump, they went, where hidden wood-piles or fences obstructed their path, + and out they shot into space, but each time came down firmly on their + feet, and dashed ahead with undiminished ardor. Their calves ached, the + cold air whistled in their ears, and their eyelids became stiff and their + sight half obscured with the hoar-frost that fringed their lashes. But + onward they sped, keeping their balance with wonderful skill, until they + reached the gentler slope which formed the banks of the great river. Then + for the first time Ralph had an opportunity to look behind him, and he saw + two moving whirls of snow darting downward, not far from his own track. + His heart beat in his throat; for those fellows had both endurance and + skill, and he feared that he was no match for them. But suddenly—he + could have yelled with delight—the foremost figure leaped into the + air, turned a tremendous somersault, and, coming down on his head, broke + through the crust of the snow and vanished, while his skees started on an + independent journey down the hill-side. He had struck an exposed + fence-rail, which, abruptly checking his speed, had sent him flying like a + rocket. + </p> + <p> + The other poacher had barely time to change his course, so as to avoid the + snag; but he was unable to stop and render assistance to his fallen + comrade. The boys, just as they were shooting out upon the ice, saw by his + motions that he was hesitating whether or not he should give up the chase. + He used his staff as a brake for a few moments, so as to retard his speed; + but discovering, perhaps, by the brightening starlight, that his + adversaries were not full-grown men, he took courage, started forward + again, and tried to make up for the time he had lost. If he could but + reach the sheriff’s house before the boys did, he could have them arrested + and collect the informer’s fee, instead of being himself arrested and + fined as a poacher. It was a prize worth racing for! And, moreover, there + were two elks, worth twenty-five dollars apiece, buried in the snow under + logs. These also would belong to the victor! The poacher dashed ahead, + straining every nerve, and reached safely the foot of the steep declivity. + The boys were now but a few hundred yards ahead of him. + </p> + <p> + “Hold on there,” he yelled again, “or I shoot!” + </p> + <p> + He was not within range, but he thought he could frighten the youngsters + into abandoning the race. The sheriff’s house was but a short distance up + the river. Its tall, black chimneys could he seen looming up against the + starlit sky. There was no slope now to accelerate their speed. They had to + peg away for dear life, pushing themselves forward with their skee-staves, + laboring like plough-horses, panting, snorting, perspiring. Ralph turned + his head once more. The poacher was gaining upon them; there could be no + doubt of it. He was within the range of Ralph’s rifle; and a sturdy fellow + he was, who seemed good for a couple of miles yet. Should Ralph send a + bullet over his head to frighten him? No; that might give the poacher an + excuse for sending back a bullet with a less innocent purpose. Poor + Biceps, he was panting and puffing in his heavy wraps like a steamboat! He + did not once open his mouth to speak; but, exerting his vaunted muscle to + the utmost, kept abreast of his friend, and sometimes pushed a pace or two + ahead of him. But it cost him a mighty effort! And yet the poacher was + gaining upon him! They could see the long broadside of windows in the + sheriff’s mansion, ablaze with Christmas candles. They came nearer and + nearer! The church-bells up on the bend were ringing in the festival. Five + minutes more and they would be at their goal. Five minutes more! Surely + they had strength enough left for that small space of time. So had the + poacher, probably! The question was, which had the most. Then, with a + short, sharp resonance, followed by a long reverberation, a shot rang out + and a bullet whizzed past Ralph’s ear. It was the poacher who had broken + the peace. Ralph, his blood boiling with wrath, came to a sudden stop, + flung his rifle to his cheek and cried, “Drop that gun!” + </p> + <p> + The poacher, bearing down with all his might on the skee-staff, checked + his speed. In the meanwhile Albert hurried on, seeing that the issue of + the race depended upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t force me to hurt ye!” shouted the poacher, threateningly, to Ralph, + taking aim once more. + </p> + <p> + “You can’t,” Ralph shouted back. “You haven’t another shot.” + </p> + <p> + At that instant sounds of sleigh-bells and voices were heard, and half a + dozen people, startled by the shot, were seen rushing out from the + sheriff’s mansion. Among them was Mr. Bjornerud himself, with one of his + deputies. + </p> + <p> + “In the name of the law, I command you to cease,” he cried, when he saw + down the two figures in menacing attitudes. But before he could say + another word, some one fell prostrate in the road before him, gasping: + </p> + <p> + “We have shot an elk; so has that man down on the ice. We give ourselves + up.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bjornerud, making no answer, leaped over the prostrate figure, and, + followed by the deputy, dashed down upon the ice. + </p> + <p> + “In the name of the law!” he shouted again, and both rifles were + reluctantly lowered. + </p> + <p> + “I have shot an elk,” cried Ralph, eagerly, “and this man is a poacher, we + heard him shoot.” + </p> + <p> + “I have killed an elk,” screamed the poacher, in the same moment, “and so + has this fellow.” + </p> + <p> + The sheriff was too astonished to speak. Never before, in his experience, + had poachers raced for dear life to give themselves into custody. He + feared that they were making sport of him; in that case, however, he + resolved to make them suffer for their audacity. + </p> + <p> + “You are my prisoners,” he said, after a moment’s hesitation. “Take them + to the lock-up, Olsen, and handcuff them securely,” he added, turning to + his deputy. + </p> + <p> + There were now a dozen men—most of them guests and attendants of the + sheriff’s household—standing in a ring about Ralph and the poacher. + Albert, too, had scrambled to his feet and had joined his comrade. + </p> + <p> + “Will you permit me, Mr. Sheriff,” said Ralph, making the officer his + politest bow, “to send a message to my father, who is probably anxious + about us?” + </p> + <p> + “And who is your father, young man?” asked the sheriff, not unkindly; “I + should think you were doing him an ill-turn in taking to poaching at your + early age.” + </p> + <p> + “My father is Mr. Hoyer, of Solheim,” said the boy, not without some pride + in the announcement. + </p> + <p> + “What—you rascal, you! Are you trying to, play pranks on an old + man?” cried the officer of the law, grasping Ralph cordially by the hand. + “You’ve grown to be quite a man, since I saw you last. Pardon me for not + recognizing the son of an old neighbor.” + </p> + <p> + “Allow me to introduce to you my friend, Mr. Biceps—I mean, Mr. + Albert Grimlund.” + </p> + <p> + “Happy to make your acquaintance, Mr. Biceps Albert; and now you must both + come and eat the Christmas porridge with us. I’ll send a messenger to Mr. + Hoyer without delay.” + </p> + <p> + The sheriff, in a jolly mood, and happy to have added to the number of his + Christmas guests, took each of the two young men by the arm, as if he were + going to arrest them, and conducted them through the spacious front hall + into a large cosey room, where, having divested themselves of their wraps, + they told the story of their adventure. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear sir,” Mr. Bjornerud exclaimed, “I don’t see how you managed + to go beyond your father’s preserves. You know he bought of me the whole + forest tract, adjoining his own on the south, about three months ago. So + you were perfectly within your rights; for your father hasn’t killed an + elk on his land for three years.” + </p> + <p> + “If that is the case, Mr. Sheriff,” said Ralph, “I must beg of you to + release the poor fellow who chased us. I don’t wish any informer’s fee, + nor have I any desire to get him into trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “I am sorry to say I can’t accommodate you,” Bjornerud replied. “This man + is a notorious poacher and trespasser, whom my deputies have long been + tracking in vain. Now that I have him I shall keep him. There’s no elk + safe in Odalen so long as that rascal is at large.” + </p> + <p> + “That may be; but I shall then turn my informer’s fee over to him, which + will reduce his fine from fifty dollars to twenty-five dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “To encourage him to continue poaching?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I confess I have a little more sympathy with poachers, since we + came so near being poachers ourselves. It was only an accident that saved + us!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE NIXY’S STRAIN + </h2> + <p> + Little Nils had an idea that he wanted to be something great in the world, + but he did not quite know how to set about it. He had always been told + that, having been born on a Sunday, he was a luck-child, and that good + fortune would attend him on that account in whatever he undertook. + </p> + <p> + He had never, so far, noticed anything peculiar about himself, though, to + be sure, his small enterprises did not usually come to grief, his snares + were seldom empty, and his tiny stamping-mill, which he and his friend + Thorstein had worked at so faithfully, was now making a merry noise over + in the brook in the Westmo Glen, so that you could hear it a hundred yards + away. + </p> + <p> + The reason of this, his mother told him, according to the superstition of + her people, was that the Nixy and the Hulder <a href="#linknote-3" + name="linknoteref-3" id="linknoteref-3"><small>3</small></a> and the + gnomes favored him because he was a Sunday child. What was more, she + assured him, that he would see them some day, and then, if he conducted + himself cleverly, so as to win their favor, he would, by their aid, rise + high in the world, and make his fortune. + </p> + <p> + Now this was exactly what Nils wanted, and therefore he was not a little + anxious to catch a glimpse of the mysterious creatures who had so + whimsical a reason for taking an interest in him. Many and many a time he + sat at the waterfall where the Nixy was said to play the harp every + midsummer night, but although he sometimes imagined that he heard a vague + melody trembling through the rush and roar of the water, and saw glimpses + of white limbs flashing through the current, yet never did he get a good + look at the Nixy. + </p> + <p> + Though he roamed through the woods early and late, setting snares for + birds and rabbits, and was ever on the alert for a sight of the Hulder’s + golden hair and scarlet bodice, the tricksy sprite persisted in eluding + him. + </p> + <p> + He thought sometimes that he heard a faint, girlish giggle, full of + teasing provocation and suppressed glee, among the underbrush, and once he + imagined that he saw a gleam of scarlet and gold vanish in a dense alder + copse. + </p> + <p> + But very little good did that do him, when he could not fix the vision, + talk with it face to face, and extort the fulfilment of the three + regulation wishes. + </p> + <p> + “I am probably not good enough,” thought Nils. “I know I am a selfish + fellow, and cruel, too, some-times, to birds and beasts. I suppose she + won’t have anything to do with me, as long as she isn’t satisfied with my + behavior.” + </p> + <p> + Then he tried hard to be kind and considerate; smiled at his little sister + when she pulled his hair, patted Sultan, the dog, instead of kicking him, + when he was in his way, and never complained or sulked when he was sent on + errands late at night or in bad weather. + </p> + <p> + But, strange to say, though the Nixy’s mysterious melody still sounded + vaguely through the water’s roar, and the Hulder seemed to titter behind + the tree-trunks and vanish in the underbrush, a real, unmistakable view + was never vouchsafed to Nils, and the three wishes which were to make his + fortune he had no chance of propounding. + </p> + <p> + He had fully made up his mind what his wishes were to be, for he was + determined not to be taken by surprise. He knew well the fate of those + foolish persons in the fairy tales who offend their benevolent protectors + by bouncing against them head foremost, as it were, with a greedy cry for + wealth. + </p> + <p> + Nils was not going to be caught that way. He would ask first for wisdom—that + was what all right-minded heroes did—then for good repute among men, + and lastly—and here was the rub—lastly he was inclined to ask + for a five-bladed knife, like the one the parson’s Thorwald had got for a + Christmas present. + </p> + <p> + But he had considerable misgiving about the expediency of this last wish. + If he had a fair renown and wisdom, might he not be able to get along + without a five-bladed pocket-knife? But no; there was no help for it. + Without that five-bladed pocket-knife neither wisdom nor fame would + satisfy him. It would be the drop of gall in his cup of joy. + </p> + <p> + After many days’ pondering, it occurred to him, as a way out of the + difficulty, that it would, perhaps, not offend the Hulder if he asked, not + for wealth, but for a moderate prosperity. If he were blessed with a + moderate prosperity, he could, of course, buy a five-bladed pocket-knife + with corkscrew and all other appurtenances, and still have something left + over. + </p> + <p> + He had a dreadful struggle with this question, for he was well aware that + the proper things to wish were long life and happiness for his father and + mother, or something in that line. But, though he wished his father and + mother well, he could not make up his mind to forego his own precious + chances on their account. Moreover, he consoled himself with the + reflection that if he attained the goal of his own desires he could easily + bestow upon them, of his bounty, a reasonable prospect of long life and + happiness. + </p> + <p> + You see Nils was by no means so good yet as he ought to be. He was clever + enough to perceive that he had small chance of seeing the Hulder, as long + as his heart was full of selfishness and envy and greed. + </p> + <p> + For, strive as he might, he could not help feeling envious of the parson’s + Thorwald, with his elaborate combination pocket-knife and his silver + watch-chain, which he unfeelingly flaunted in the face of an admiring + community. It was small consolation for Nils to know that there was no + watch but only a key attached to it; for a silver watch-chain, even + without a watch, was a sufficiently splendid possession to justify a boy + in fording it over his less fortunate comrades. + </p> + <p> + Nils’s father, who was a poor charcoal-burner, could never afford to make + his son such a present, even if he worked until he was as black as a + chimney-sweep. For what little money he earned was needed at once for food + and clothes for the family; and there were times when they were obliged to + mix ground birch-bark with their flour in order to make it last longer. + </p> + <p> + It was easy enough for a rich man’s son to be good, Nils thought. + </p> + <p> + It was small credit to him if he was not envious, having never known want + and never gone to bed on birch-bark porridge. But for a poor boy not to + covet all the nice things which would make life so pleasant, if he had + them, seemed next to impossible. + </p> + <p> + Still Nils kept on making good resolutions and breaking them, and then + piecing them together again and breaking them anew. + </p> + <p> + If it had not been for his desire to see the Hulder and the Nixy, and + making them promise the fulfilment of the three wishes, he would have + given up the struggle, and resigned himself to being a bad boy because he + was born so. But those teasing glimpses of the Hulder’s scarlet bodice and + golden hair, and the vague snatches of wondrous melody that rose from the + cataract in the silent summer nights, filled his soul with an intense + desire to see the whole Hulder, with her radiant smile and melancholy + eyes, and to hear the whole melody plainly enough to be written down on + paper and learned by heart. + </p> + <p> + It was with this longing to repeat the few haunting notes that hummed in + his brain that Nils went to the schoolmaster one day and asked him for the + loan of his fiddle. But the schoolmaster, hearing that Nils could not + play, thought his request a foolish one and refused. + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless, that visit became an important event, and a turning-point in + the boy’s life. For he was moved to confide in the schoolmaster, who was a + kindly old man, and fond of clever boys; and he became interested in Nils. + Though he regarded Nils’s desire to record the Nixy’s strains as absurd, + he offered to teach him to play. There was good stuff in the lad, he + thought, and when he had out-grown his fantastic nonsense, he might, very + likely, make a good fiddler. + </p> + <p> + Thus it came to pass that the charcoal-burner’s son learned to play the + violin. He had not had half a dozen lessons before he set about imitating + the Nixy’s notes which he had heard in the waterfall. + </p> + <p> + “It was this way,” he said to the schoolmaster, pressing his ear against + the violin, while he ran the bow lightly over the strings; “or rather it + was this way,” making another ineffectual effort. “No, no, that wasn’t it, + either. It’s no use, schoolmaster: I shall never be able to do it!” he + cried, flinging the violin on the table and rushing out of the door. + </p> + <p> + When he returned the next day he was heartily ashamed of his impatience. + To try to catch the Nixy’s notes after half a dozen lessons was, of + course, an absurdity. + </p> + <p> + The master told him simply to banish such folly from his brain, to apply + himself diligently to his scales, and not to bother himself about the + Nixy. + </p> + <p> + That seemed to be sound advice and Nils accepted it with contrition. He + determined never to repeat his silly experiment. But when the next + midsummer night came, a wild yearning possessed him, and he stole out + noiselessly into the forest, and sat down on a stone by the river, + listening intently. + </p> + <p> + For a long while he heard nothing but the monotonous boom of the water + plunging into the deep. But, strangely enough, there was a vague, hushed + rhythm in this thundering roar; and after a while he seemed to hear a + faint strain, ravishingly sweet, which vibrated on the air for an instant + and vanished. + </p> + <p> + It seemed to steal upon his ear unawares, and the moment he listened, with + a determination to catch it, it was gone. But sweet it was—inexpressibly + sweet. + </p> + <p> + Let the master talk as much as he liked, catch it he would and catch it he + must. But he must acquire greater skill before he would be able to render + something so delicate and elusive. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly Nils applied himself with all his might and main to his music, + in the intervals between his work. + </p> + <p> + He was big enough now to accompany his father to the woods, and help him + pile turf and earth on the heap of logs that were to be burned to + charcoal. He did not see the Hulder face to face, though he was constantly + on the watch for her; but once or twice he thought he saw a swift flash of + scarlet and gold in the underbrush, and again and again he thought he + heard her soft, teasing laughter in the alder copses. That, too, he + imagined he might express in music; and the next time he got hold of the + schoolmaster’s fiddle he quavered away on the fourth string, but produced + nothing that had the remotest resemblance to melody, much less to that + sweet laughter. + </p> + <p> + He grew so discouraged that he could have wept. He had a wild impulse to + break the fiddle, and never touch another as long as he lived. But he knew + he could not live up to any such resolution. The fiddle was already too + dear to him to be renounced for a momentary whim. But it was like an + unrequited affection, which brought as much sorrow as joy. + </p> + <p> + There was so much that Nils burned to express; but the fiddle refused to + obey him, and screeched something utterly discordant, as it seemed, from + sheer perversity. + </p> + <p> + It occurred to Nils again, that unless the Nixy took pity on him and + taught him that marvellous, airy strain he would never catch it. Would he + then ever be good enough to win the favor of the Nixy? + </p> + <p> + For in the fairy tales it is always the bad people who come to grief, + while the good and merciful ones are somehow rewarded. + </p> + <p> + It was evidently because he was yet far from being good enough that both + Hulder and Nixy eluded him. Sunday child though he was, there seemed to be + small chance that he would ever be able to propound his three wishes. + </p> + <p> + Only now, the third wish was no longer a five-bladed pocket-knife, but a + violin of so fine a ring and delicate modulation that it might render the + Nixy’s strain. + </p> + <p> + While these desires and fancies fought in his heart, Nils grew to be a + young man; and he still was, what he had always been—a + charcoal-burner. He went to the parson for half a year to prepare for + confirmation; and by his gentleness and sweetness of disposition attracted + not only the good man himself, but all with whom he came in contact. His + answers were always thoughtful, and betrayed a good mind. + </p> + <p> + He was not a prig, by any means, who held aloof from sport and play; he + could laugh with the merriest, run a race with the swiftest, and try a + wrestling match with the strongest. + </p> + <p> + There was no one among the candidates for confirmation, that year, who was + so well liked as Nils. Gentle as he was and soft-spoken, there was a manly + spirit in him, and that always commands respect among boys. + </p> + <p> + He received much praise from the pastor, and no one envied him the kind + words that were addressed to him; for every one felt that they were + deserved. But the thought in Nils’s mind during all the ceremony in the + church and in the parsonage was this: + </p> + <p> + “Now, perhaps, I shall be good enough to win the Nixy’s favor. Now I shall + catch the wondrous strain.” + </p> + <p> + It did not occur to him, in his eagerness, that such a reflection was out + of place in church; nor was it, perhaps, for the Nixy’s strain was + constantly associated in his mind with all that was best in him; with his + highest aspirations, and his constant strivings for goodness and nobleness + in thought and deed. + </p> + <p> + It happened about this time that the old schoolmaster died, and in his + will it was found that he had bequeathed his fiddle to Nils. He had very + little else to leave, poor fellow; but if he had been a Croesus he could + not have given his favorite pupil anything that would have delighted him + more. + </p> + <p> + Nils played now early and late, except when he was in the woods with his + father. His fame went abroad through all the valley as the best fiddler in + seven parishes round, and people often came from afar to hear him. There + was a peculiar quality in his playing—something strangely appealing, + that brought the tears to one’s eyes—yet so elusive that it was + impossible to repeat or describe it. + </p> + <p> + It was rumored among the villagers that he had caught the Nixy’s strain, + and that it was that which touched the heart so deeply in his + improvisations. But Nils knew well that he had not caught the Nixy’s + strain; though a faint echo—a haunting undertone—of that + vaguely remembered snatch of melody, heard now and then in the water’s + roar, would steal at times into his music, when he was, perhaps, himself + least aware of it. + </p> + <p> + Invitations now came to him from far and wide to play at wedding and + dancing parties and funerals. There was no feast complete without Nils; + and soon this strange thing was noticed, that quarrels and brawls, which + in those days were common enough in Norway, were rare wherever Nils + played. + </p> + <p> + It seemed as if his calm and gentle presence called forth all that was + good in the feasters and banished whatever was evil. Such was his + popularity that he earned more money by his fiddling in a week than his + father had ever done by charcoal-burning in a month. + </p> + <p> + A half-superstitious regard for him became general among the people; + first, because it seemed impossible that any man could play as he did + without the aid of some supernatural power; and secondly, because his + gentle demeanor and quaint, terse sayings inspired them with admiration. + It was difficult to tell by whom the name, Wise Nils, was first started, + but it was felt by all to be appropriate, and it therefore clung to the + modest fiddler, in spite of all his protests. + </p> + <p> + Before he was twenty-five years old it became the fashion to go to him and + consult him in difficult situations; and though he long shrank from giving + advice, his reluctance wore away, when it became evident to him that he + could actually benefit the people. + </p> + <p> + There was nothing mysterious in his counsel. All he said was as clear and + rational as the day-light. But the good folk were nevertheless inclined to + attribute a higher authority to him; and would desist from vice or folly + for his sake, when they would not for their own sake. It was odd, indeed: + this Wise Nils, the fiddler, became a great man in the valley, and his + renown went abroad and brought him visitors, seeking his counsel, from + distant parishes. Rarely did anyone leave him disappointed, or at least + without being benefited by his sympathetic advice. + </p> + <p> + One summer, during the tourist season, a famous foreign musician came to + Norway, accompanied by a rich American gentleman. While in his + neighborhood, they heard the story of the rustic fiddler, and became + naturally curious to see him. + </p> + <p> + They accordingly went to his cottage, in order to have some sport with + him, for they expected to find a vain and ignorant charlatan, inflated by + the flattery of his more ignorant neighbors. But Nils received them with a + simple dignity which quite disarmed them. They had come to mock; they + stayed to admire. This peasant’s artless speech, made up of ancient + proverbs and shrewd common-sense, and instinct with a certain sunny + beneficence, impressed them wonderfully. + </p> + <p> + And when, at their request, he played some of his improvisations, the + renowned musician exclaimed that here was, indeed, a great artist lost to + the world. In spite of the poor violin, there was a marvellously touching + quality in the music; something new and alluring which had never been + heard before. + </p> + <p> + But Nils himself was not aware of it. Occasionally, while he played, the + Nixy’s haunting strain would flit through his brain, or hover about it, + where he could feel it, as it were, but yet be unable to catch it. This + was his regret—his constant chase for those elusive notes that + refused to be captured. + </p> + <p> + But he consoled himself many a time with the reflection that it was the + fiddle’s fault, not his own. With a finer instrument, capable of rendering + more delicate shades of sound, he might yet surprise the Nixy’s strain, + and record it unmistakably in black and white. + </p> + <p> + The foreign musician and his American friend departed, but returned at the + end of two weeks. They then offered to accompany Nils on a concert tour + through all the capitals of Europe and the large cities of America, and to + insure him a sum of money which fairly made him dizzy. + </p> + <p> + Nils begged for time to consider, and the next day surprised them by + declining the startling offer. + </p> + <p> + He was a peasant, he said, and must remain a peasant. He belonged here in + his native valley, where he could do good, and was happy in the belief + that he was useful. + </p> + <p> + Out in the great world, of which he knew nothing, he might indeed gather + wealth, but he might lose his peace of mind, which was more precious than + wealth. He was content with a moderate prosperity, and that he had already + attained. He had enough, and more than enough, to satisfy his modest + wants, and to provide those who were dear to him with reasonable comfort + in their present condition of life. + </p> + <p> + The strangers were amazed at a man’s thus calmly refusing a fortune that + was within his easy grasp, for they did not doubt that Nils, with his + entirely unconventional manner of playing, and yet with that extraordinary + moving quality in his play, would become the rage both in Europe and + America, as a kind of heaven-born, untutored genius, and fill both his own + pockets and theirs with shekels. + </p> + <p> + They made repeated efforts to persuade him, but it was all in vain. With + smiling serenity, he told them that he had uttered his final decision. + They then took leave of him, and a month after their departure there + arrived from Germany a box addressed to Nils. He opened it with some + trepidation, and it was found to contain a Cremona violin—a genuine + Stradivarius. + </p> + <p> + The moment Nils touched the strings with the bow, a thrill of rapture went + through him, the like of which he had never experienced. The divine + sweetness and purity of the tone that vibrated through those magic + chambers resounded through all his being, and made him feel happy and + exalted. + </p> + <p> + It occurred to him, while he was coaxing the intoxicating music from his + instrument, that tonight would be midsummer night. Now was his chance to + catch the Nixy’s strain, for this exquisite violin would be capable of + rendering the very chant of the archangels in the morning of time. + </p> + <p> + To-night he would surprise the Nixy, and the divine strain should no more + drift like a melodious mist through his brain; for at midsummer night the + Nixy always plays the loudest, and then, if ever, is the time to learn + what he felt must be the highest secret of the musical art. + </p> + <p> + Hugging his Stradivarius close to his breast, to protect it from the damp + night-air, Nils hurried through the birch woods down to the river. The + moon was sailing calmly through a fleecy film of cloud, and a light mist + hovered over the tops of the forest. + </p> + <p> + The fiery afterglow of the sunset still lingered in the air, though the + sun had long been hidden, but the shadows of the trees were gaunt and + dark, as in the light of the moon. + </p> + <p> + The sound of the cataract stole with a whispering rush through the + underbrush, for the water was low at midsummer, and a good deal of it was + diverted to the mill, which was working busily away, with its big + water-wheel going round and round. + </p> + <p> + Nils paused close to the mill, and peered intently into the rushing + current; but nothing appeared. Then he stole down to the river-bank, where + he seated himself on a big stone, barely out of reach of the spray, which + blew in gusts from the cataract. He sat for a long while motionless, + gazing with rapt intentness at the struggling, foaming rapids, but he saw + or heard nothing. + </p> + <p> + Then all of a sudden it seemed to him that the air began to vibrate + faintly with a vague, captivating rhythm. Nils could hear his heart beat + in his throat. With trembling eagerness he unwrapped the violin and raised + it to his chin. + </p> + <p> + Now, surely, there was a note. It belonged on the A string. No, not there. + On the E string, perhaps. But no, not there, either. + </p> + <p> + Look! What is that? + </p> + <p> + A flash, surely, through the water of a beautiful naked arm. + </p> + <p> + And there—no, not there—but somewhere from out of the gentle + rush of the middle current there seemed to come to him a marvellous mist + of drifting sound—ineffably, rapturously sweet! + </p> + <p> + With a light movement Nils runs his bow over the strings, but not a ghost, + not a semblance, can he reproduce of the swift, scurrying flight of that + wondrous melody. Again and again he listens breathlessly, and again and + again despair overwhelms him. + </p> + <p> + Should he, then, never see the Nixy, and ask the fulfilment of his three + wishes? + </p> + <p> + Curiously enough, those three wishes which once were so great a part of + his life had now almost escaped him. It was the Nixy’s strain he had been + intent upon, and the wishes had lapsed into oblivion. + </p> + <p> + And what were they, really, those three wishes, for the sake of which he + desired to confront the Nixy? + </p> + <p> + Well, the first—the first was—what was it, now? Yes, now at + length he remembered. The first was wisdom. + </p> + <p> + Well, the people called him Wise Nils now, so, perhaps, that wish was + superfluous. Very likely he had as much wisdom as was good for him. At all + events, he had refused to acquire more by going abroad to acquaint himself + with the affairs of the great world. + </p> + <p> + Then the second wish; yes, he could recall that. It was fame. It was odd + indeed; that, too, he had refused, and what he possessed of it was as + much, or even far more, than he desired. But when he called to mind the + third and last of his boyish wishes, a moderate prosperity or a good + violin—for that was the alternative—he had to laugh outright, + for both the violin and the prosperity were already his. + </p> + <p> + Nils lapsed into deep thought, as he sat there in the summer night, with + the crowns of the trees above him and the brawling rapids swirling about + him. + </p> + <p> + Had not the Nixy bestowed upon him her best gift already in permitting him + to hear that exquisite ghost of a melody, that shadowy, impalpable strain, + which had haunted him these many years? In pursuing that he had gained the + goal of his desires, till other things he had wished for had come to him + unawares, as it were, and almost without his knowing it. And now what had + he to ask of the Nixy, who had blessed him so abundantly? + </p> + <p> + The last secret, the wondrous strain, forsooth, that he might imprison it + in notes, and din it in the ears of an unappreciative multitude! Perhaps + it were better, after all, to persevere forever in the quest, for what + would life have left to offer him if the Nixy’s strain was finally caught, + when all were finally attained, and no divine melody haunted the brain, + beyond the powers even of a Stradivarius to lure from its shadowy realm? + </p> + <p> + Nils walked home that night plunged in deep meditation. He vowed to + himself that he would never more try to catch the Nixy’s strain. But the + next day, when he seized the violin, there it was again, and, strive as he + might, he could not forbear trying to catch it. + </p> + <p> + Wise Nils is many years older now; has a good wife and several children, + and is a happy man; but to this day, resolve as he will, he has never been + able to abandon the effort to catch the Nixy’s strain. Sometimes he thinks + he has half caught it, but when he tries to play it, it is always gone. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE WONDER CHILD + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <p> + A very common belief in Norway, as in many other lands, is that the + seventh child of the seventh child can heal the sick by the laying on of + hands. Such a child is therefore called a wonder child. Little Carina Holt + was the seventh in a family of eight brothers and sisters, but she grew to + be six years old before it became generally known that she was a wonder + child. Then people came from afar to see her, bringing their sick with + them; and morning after morning, as Mrs. Holt rolled up the shades, she + found invalids, seated or standing in the snow, gazing with devout faith + and anxious longing toward Carina’s window. + </p> + <p> + It seemed a pity to send them away uncomforted, when the look and the + touch cost Carina so little. But there was another fear that arose in the + mother’s breast, and that was lest her child should be harmed by the + veneration with which she was regarded, and perhaps come to believe that + she was something more than a common mortal. What was more natural than + that a child who was told by grown-up people that there was healing in her + touch, should at last come to believe that she was something apart and + extraordinary? + </p> + <p> + It would have been a marvel, indeed, if the constant attention she + attracted, and the pilgrimages that were made to her, had failed to make + any impression upon her sensitive mind. Vain she was not, and it would + have been unjust to say that she was spoiled. She had a tender nature, + full of sympathy for sorrow and suffering. She was constantly giving away + her shoes, her stockings, nay, even her hood and cloak, to poor little + invalids, whose misery appealed to her merciful heart. It was of no use to + scold her; you could no more prevent a stream from flowing than Carina + from giving. It was a spontaneous yielding to an impulse that was too + strong to be resisted. + </p> + <p> + But to her father there was something unnatural in it; he would have + preferred to have her frankly selfish, as most children are, not because + he thought it lovely, but because it was childish and natural. Her unusual + goodness gave him a pang more painful than ever the bad behavior of her + brothers had occasioned. On the other hand, it delighted him to see her do + anything that ordinary children did. He was charmed if she could be + induced to take part in a noisy romp, play tag, or dress her dolls. But + there followed usually after each outbreak of natural mirth a shy + withdrawal into herself, a resolute and quiet retirement, as if she, were + a trifle ashamed of her gayety. There was nothing morbid in these moods, + no brooding sadness or repentance, but a touching solemnity, a serene, + almost cheerful seriousness, which in one of her years seemed strange. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Holt had many a struggle with himself as to how he should treat + Carina’s delusion; and he made up his mind, at last, that it was his duty + to do everything in his power to dispel and counteract it. When he + happened to overhear her talking to her dolls one day, laying her hands + upon them, and curing them of imaginary diseases, he concluded it was high + time for him to act. + </p> + <p> + He called Carina to him, remonstrated kindly with her, and forbade her + henceforth to see the people who came to her for the purpose of being + cured. But it distressed him greatly to see how reluctantly she consented + to obey him. + </p> + <p> + When Carina awoke the morning after this promise had been extorted from + her, she heard the dogs barking furiously in the yard below. Her elder + sister, Agnes, was standing half dressed before the mirror, holding the + end of one blond braid between her teeth, while tying the other with a + pink ribbon. Seeing that Carina was awake, she gave her a nod in the + glass, and, removing her braid, observed that there evidently were sick + pilgrims under the window. She could sympathize with Sultan and Hector, + she averred, in their dislike of pilgrims. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I wish they would not come!” sighed Carina. “It will be so hard for + me to send them away.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought you liked curing people,” exclaimed Agnes. + </p> + <p> + “I do, sister, but papa has made me promise never to do it again.” + </p> + <p> + She arose and began to dress, her sister assisting her, chatting all the + while like a gay little chirruping bird that neither gets nor expects an + answer. She was too accustomed to Carina’s moods to be either annoyed or + astonished; but she loved her all the same, and knew that her little ears + were wide open, even though she gave no sign of listening. + </p> + <p> + Carina had just completed her simple toilet when Guro, the chamber-maid, + entered, and announced that there were some sick folk below who wished to + see the wonder child. + </p> + <p> + “Tell them I cannot see them,” answered Carina, with a tremulous voice; + “papa does not permit me.” + </p> + <p> + “But this man, Atle Pilot, has come from so far away in this dreadful + cold,” pleaded Guro, “and his son is so very bad, poor thing; he’s lying + down in the boat, and he sighs and groans fit to move a stone.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t! Don’t tell her that,” interposed Agnes, motioning to the girl to + begone. “Don’t you see it is hard enough for her already?” + </p> + <p> + There was something in the air, as the two sisters descended the stairs + hand in hand, which foreboded calamity. The pastor had given out from the + pulpit last Sunday that he would positively receive no invalids at his + house; and he had solemnly charged every one to refrain from bringing + their sick to his daughter. He had repeated this announcement again and + again, and he was now very much annoyed at his apparent powerlessness to + protect his child from further imposition. Loud and angry speech was heard + in his office, and a noise as if the furniture were being knocked about. + The two little girls remained standing on the stairs, each gazing at the + other’s frightened face. Then there was a great bang, and a stalwart, + elderly sailor came tumbling head foremost out into the hall. His cap was + flung after him through the crack of the door. Agnes saw for an instant + her father’s face, red and excited; and in his bearing there was something + wild and strange, which was so different from his usual gentle and + dignified appearance. The sailor stood for a while bewildered, leaning + against the wall; then he stooped slowly and picked up his cap. But the + moment he caught sight of Carina his embarrassment vanished, and his rough + features were illuminated with an intense emotion. + </p> + <p> + “Come, little miss, and help me,” he cried, in a hoarse, imploring + whisper. “Halvor, my son—he is the only one God gave me—he is + sick; he is going to die, miss, unless you take pity on him.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is he?” asked Carina. + </p> + <p> + “He’s down in the boat, miss, at the pier. But I’ll carry him up to you, + if you like. We have been rowing half the night in the cold, and he is + very low.” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; you mustn’t bring him here,” said Agnes, seeing by Carina’s face + that she was on the point of yielding. “Father would be so angry.” + </p> + <p> + “He may kill me if he likes,” exclaimed the sailor, wildly. “It doesn’t + matter to me. But Halvor he’s the only one I have, miss, and his mother + died when he was born, and he is young, miss, and he will have many years + to live, if you’ll only have mercy on him.” + </p> + <p> + “But, you know, I shouldn’t dare, on papa’s account, to have you bring him + here,” began Carina, struggling with her tears. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes! Then you will go to him. God bless you for that!” cried the poor + man, with agonized eagerness. And interpreting the assent he read in + Carina’s eye, he caught her up in his arms, snatched a coat from a peg in + the wall, and wrapping her in it, tore open the door. Carina made no + outcry, and was not in the least afraid. She felt herself resting in two + strong arms, warmly wrapped and borne away at a great speed over the snow. + But Agnes, seeing her sister vanish in that sudden fashion, gave a scream + which called her father to the door. + </p> + <p> + “What has happened?” he asked. “Where is Carina?” + </p> + <p> + “That dreadful Atle Pilot took her and ran away with her.” + </p> + <p> + “Ran away with her?” cried the pastor in alarm. “How? Where?” + </p> + <p> + “Down to the pier.” + </p> + <p> + It was a few moments’ work for the terrified father to burst open the + door, and with his velvet skull-cap on his head, and the skirts of his + dressing-gown flying wildly about him, rush down toward the beach. He saw + Atle Pilot scarcely fifty feet in advance of him, and shouted to him at + the top of his voice. But the sailor only redoubled his speed, and darted + out upon the pier, hugging tightly to his breast the precious burden he + carried. So blindly did he rush ahead that the pastor expected to see him + plunge headlong into the icy waves. But, as by a miracle, he suddenly + checked himself, and grasping with one hand the flag-pole, swung around + it, a foot or two above the black water, and regained his foothold upon + the planks. He stood for an instant irresolute, staring down into a boat + which lay moored to the end of the pier. What he saw resembled a big + bundle, consisting of a sheepskin coat and a couple of horse blankets. + </p> + <p> + “Halvor,” he cried, with a voice that shook with emotion, “I have brought + her.” + </p> + <p> + There was presently a vague movement under the horse-blankets, and after a + minute’s struggle a pale yellowish face became visible. It was a young + face—the face of a boy of fifteen or sixteen. But, oh, what + suffering was depicted in those sunken eyes, those bloodless, cracked + lips, and the shrunken yellow skin which clung in premature wrinkles about + the emaciated features! An old and worn fur cap was pulled down over his + ears, but from under its rim a few strands of blond hair were hanging upon + his forehead. + </p> + <p> + Atle had just disentangled Carina from her wrappings, and was about to + descend the stairs to the water when a heavy hand seized him by the + shoulder, and a panting voice shouted in his ear: + </p> + <p> + “Give me back my child.” + </p> + <p> + He paused, and turned his pathetically bewildered face toward the pastor. + “You wouldn’t take him from me, parson,” he stammered, helplessly; “no, + you wouldn’t. He’s the only one I’ve got.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t take him from you,” the parson thundered, wrathfully. “But what + right have you to come and steal my child, because yours is ill?” + </p> + <p> + “When life is at stake, parson,” said the pilot, imploringly, “one gets + muddled about right and wrong. I’ll do your little girl no harm. Only let + her lay her blessed hands upon my poor boy’s head, and he will be well.” + </p> + <p> + “I have told you no, man, and I must put a stop to this stupid idolatry, + which will ruin my child, and do you no good. Give her back to me, I say, + at once.” + </p> + <p> + The pastor held out his hand to receive Carina, who stared at him with + large pleading eyes out of the grizzly wolf-skin coat. + </p> + <p> + “Be good to him, papa,” she begged. “Only this once.” + </p> + <p> + “No, child; no parleying now; come instantly.” + </p> + <p> + And he seized her by main force, and tore her out of the pilot’s arms. But + to his dying day he remembered the figure of the heart-broken man, as he + stood outlined against the dark horizon, shaking his clinched fists + against the sky, and crying out, in a voice of despair: + </p> + <p> + “May God show you the same mercy on the Judgment Day as you have shown to + me!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + Six miserable days passed. The weather was stormy, and tidings of + shipwreck and calamity filled the air. Scarcely a visitor came to the + parsonage who had not some tale of woe to relate. The pastor, who was + usually so gentle and cheerful, wore a dismal face, and it was easy to see + that something was weighing on his mind. + </p> + <p> + “May God show you the same mercy on the Judgment Day as you have shown to + me!” + </p> + <p> + These words rang constantly in his ears by night and by day. Had he not + been right, according to the laws of God and man, in defending his + household against the assaults of ignorance and superstition? Would he + have been justified in sacrificing his own child, even if he could thereby + save another’s? And, moreover, was it not all a wild, heathenish delusion, + which it was his duty as a servant of God to stamp out and root out at all + hazards? Yes, there could be no doubt of it; he had but exercised his + legal right. He had done what was demanded of him by laws human and + divine. He had nothing to reproach himself for. And yet, with a haunting + persistency, the image of the despairing pilot praying God for vengeance + stared at him from every dark corner, and in the very church bells, as + they rang out their solemn invitation to the house of God, he seemed to + hear the rhythm and cadence of the heart-broken father’s imprecation. In + the depth of his heart there was a still small voice which told him that, + say what he might, he had acted cruelly. If he put himself in Atle Pilot’s + place, bound as he was in the iron bonds of superstition, how different + the case would look? He saw himself, in spirit, rowing in a lonely boat + through the stormy winter night to his pastor, bringing his only son, who + was at the point of death, and praying that the pastor’s daughter might + lay her hands upon him, as Christ had done to the blind, the halt, and the + maimed. And his pastor received him with wrath, nay, with blows, and sent + him away uncomforted. It was a hideous picture indeed, and Mr. Holt would + have given years of his life to be rid of it. + </p> + <p> + It was on the sixth day after Atle’s visit that the pastor, sitting alone + in his study, called Carina to him. He had scarcely seen her during the + last six days, or at least talked with her. Her sweet innocent spirit + would banish the shadows that darkened his soul. + </p> + <p> + “Carina,” he said, in his old affectionate way, “papa wants to see you. + Come here and let me talk a little with you.” + </p> + <p> + But could he trust his eyes? Carina, who formerly had run so eagerly into + his arms, stood hesitating, as if she hoped to be excused. + </p> + <p> + “Well, my little girl,” he asked, in a tone of apprehension, “don’t you + want to talk with papa?” + </p> + <p> + “I would rather wait till some other time, papa,” she managed to stammer, + while her little face flushed with embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Holt closed the door silently, flung himself into a chair, and + groaned. That was a blow from where he had least expected it. The child + had judged him and found him wanting. His Carina, his darling, who had + always been closest to his heart, no longer responded to his affection! + Was the pilot’s prayer being fulfilled? Was he losing his own child in + return for the one he had refused to save? With a pang in his breast, + which was like an aching wound, he walked up and down on the floor and + marvelled at his own blindness. He had erred indeed; and there was no hope + that any chance would come to him to remedy the wrong. + </p> + <p> + The twilight had deepened into darkness while he revolved this trouble in + his mind. The night was stormy, and the limbs of the trees without were + continually knocking and bumping against the walls of the house. The rusty + weather-vane on the roof whined and screamed, and every now and then the + sleet dashed against the window-panes like a handful of shot. The wind + hurled itself against the walls, so that the timbers creaked and pulled at + the shutters, banged stray doors in out-of-the-way garrets, and then, + having accomplished its work, whirled away over the fields with a wild and + dismal howl. The pastor sat listening mournfully to this tempestuous + commotion. Once he thought he heard a noise as of a door opening near by + him, and softly closing; but as he saw no one, he concluded it was his + overwrought fancy that had played him a trick. He seated himself again in + his easy-chair before the stove, which spread a dim light from its + draught-hole into the surrounding gloom. + </p> + <p> + While he sat thus absorbed in his meditations, he was startled at the + sound of something resembling a sob. He arose to strike a light, but found + that his match-safe was empty. But what was that? A step without, surely, + and the groping of hands for the door-knob. + </p> + <p> + “Who is there?” cried the pastor, with a shivering uneasiness. + </p> + <p> + He sprang forward and opened the door. A broad figure, surmounted by a + sou’wester, loomed up in the dark. + </p> + <p> + “What do you want?” asked Mr. Holt, with forced calmness. + </p> + <p> + “I want to know,” answered a gruff, hoarse voice, “if you’ll come to my + son now, and help him into eternity?” + </p> + <p> + The pastor recognized Atle Pilot’s voice, though it seemed harsher and + hoarser than usual. + </p> + <p> + “Sail across the fjord on a night like this?” he exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “That’s what I ask you.” + </p> + <p> + “And the boy is dying, you say?” + </p> + <p> + “Can’t last till morning.” + </p> + <p> + “And has he asked for the sacrament?” + </p> + <p> + The pilot stepped across the threshold and entered the room. He proceeded + slowly to pull off his mittens; then looking up at the pastor’s face, upon + which a vague sheen fell from the stove, he broke out: + </p> + <p> + “Will you come or will you not? You wouldn’t help him to live; now will + you help him to die?” + </p> + <p> + The words, thrust forth with a slow, panting emphasis, hit the pastor like + so many blows. + </p> + <p> + “I will come,” he said, with solemn resolution. “Sit down till I get + ready.” + </p> + <p> + He had expected some expression of gratification or thanks, for Atle well + knew what he had asked. It was his life the pastor risked, but this time + in his calling as a physician, not of bodies, but of souls. It struck him, + while he took leave of his wife, that there was something resentful and + desperate in the pilot’s manner, so different from his humble pleading at + their last meeting. + </p> + <p> + As he embraced the children one by one, and kissed them, he missed Carina, + but was told that she had probably gone to the cow-stable with the + dairy-maid, who was her particular friend. So he left tender messages for + her, and, summoning Atle, plunged out into the storm. A servant walked + before him with a lantern, and lighted the way down to the pier, where the + boat lay tossing upon the waves. + </p> + <p> + “But, man,” cried the pastor, seeing that the boat was empty, “where are + your boatmen?” + </p> + <p> + “I am my own boatman,” answered Atle, gloomily. “You can hold the sheet, I + the tiller.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Holt was ashamed of retiring now, when he had given his word. + </p> + <p> + But it was with a sinking heart that he stepped into the frail skiff, + which seemed scarcely more than a nutshell upon the tempestuous deep. He + was on the point of asking his servant, unacquainted though he was with + seamanship, to be the third man in the boat; but the latter, anticipating + his intention, had made haste to betake himself away. To venture out into + this roaring darkness, with no beacon to guide them, and scarcely a + landmark discernible, was indeed to tempt Providence. + </p> + <p> + But by the time he had finished this reflection, the pastor felt himself + rushing along at a tremendous speed, and short, sharp commands rang in his + ears, which instantly engrossed all his attention. To his eyes the sky + looked black as ink, except for a dark-blue unearthly shimmer that now and + then flared up from the north, trembled, and vanished. By this unsteady + illumination it was possible to catch a momentary glimpse of a head, and a + peak, and the outline of a mountain. The small sail was double-reefed, yet + the boat careened so heavily that the water broke over the gunwale. The + squalls beat down upon them with tumultuous roar and smoke, as of + snow-drifts, in their wake; but the little boat, climbing the top of the + waves and sinking into the dizzy black pits between them, sped fearlessly + along and the pastor began to take heart. Then, with a fierce cutting + distinctness, came the command out of the dark. + </p> + <p> + “Pull out the reefs!” + </p> + <p> + “Are you crazy, man?” shouted the pastor. “Do you want to sail straight + into eternity?” + </p> + <p> + “Pull out the reefs!” The command was repeated with wrathful emphasis. + </p> + <p> + “Then we are dead men, both you and I.” + </p> + <p> + “So we are, parson—dead men. My son lies dead at home, though you + might have saved him. So, now, parson, we are quits.” + </p> + <p> + With a fierce laugh he rose up, and still holding the tiller, stretched + his hand to tear out the reefs. But at that instant, just as a quivering + shimmer broke across the sky, something rose up from under the thwart and + stood between them. Atle started back with a hoarse scream. + </p> + <p> + “In Heaven’s name, child!” he cried. “Oh, God, have mercy upon me!” + </p> + <p> + And the pastor, not knowing whether he saw a child or a vision, cried out + in the same moment: “Carina, my darling! Carina, how came you here?” + </p> + <p> + It was Carina, indeed; but the storm whirled her tiny voice away over the + waves, and her father, folding her with one arm to his breast, while + holding the sheet with the other, did not hear what she answered to his + fervent exclamation. He only knew that her dear little head rested close + to his heart, and that her yellow hair blew across his face. + </p> + <p> + “I wanted to save that poor boy, papa,” were the only words that met his + ears. But he needed no more to explain the mystery. It was Carina, who, + repenting of her unkindness to him, had stolen into his study, while he + sat in the dark, and there she had heard Atle Pilot’s message. Even if + this boy was sick unto death, she might perhaps cure him, and make up for + her father’s harshness. Thus reasoned the sage Carina; and she had gone + secretly and prepared for the voyage, and battled with the storm, which + again and again threw her down on her road to the pier. It was a miracle + that she got safely into the boat, and stowed herself away snugly under + the stern thwart. + </p> + <p> + The clearing in the north gradually spread over the sky, and the storm + abated. Soon they had the shore in view, and the lights of the fishermen’s + cottages gleamed along the beach of the headland. Presently they ran into + smoother water; a star or two flashed forth, and wide blue expanses + appeared here and there on the vault of the sky. They spied the red + lanterns marking the wharf, about which a multitude of boats lay, moored + to stakes, and with three skilful tacks Atle made the harbor. It was here, + standing on the pier, amid the swash and swirl of surging waters, that the + pilot seized Carina’s tiny hand in his big and rough one. + </p> + <p> + “Parson,” he said, with a breaking voice, “I was going to run afoul of + you, and wreck myself with you; but this child, God bless her! she ran us + both into port, safe and sound.” + </p> + <p> + But Carina did not hear what he said, for she lay sweetly sleeping in her + father’s arms. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + “THE SONS OF THE VIKINGS” + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <p> + When Hakon Vang said his prayers at night, he usually finished with these + words: “And I thank thee, God, most of all, because thou madest me a + Norseman, and not a German or an Englishman or a Swede.” + </p> + <p> + To be a Norseman appears to the Norse boy a claim to distinction. + </p> + <p> + God has made so many millions of Englishmen and Russians and Germans, that + there can be no particular honor in being one of so vast a herd; while of + Norsemen He has made only a small and select number, whom He looks after + with special care; upon whom He showers such favors as poverty and cold + (with a view to keeping them good and hardy), and remoteness from all the + glittering temptations that beset the nations in whom He takes a less + paternal interest. Thus at least reasons, in a dim way, the small boy in + Norway; thus he is taught to reason by his parents and instructors. + </p> + <p> + As for Hakon Vang, he strutted along the beach like a turkey-cock, + whenever he thought of his glorious descent from the Vikings—those + daring pirates that stole thrones and kingdoms, and mixed their red Norse + blood in the veins of all the royal families of Europe. The teacher of + history (who was what is called a Norse-Norseman) had on one occasion, + with more patriotic zeal than discretion, undertaken to pick out those + boys in his class who were of pure Norse descent; whose blood was + untainted by any foreign admixture. The delighted pride of this small band + made them an object of envy to all the rest of the school. Hakon, when his + name was mentioned, felt as if he had added a yard to his height. Tears of + joy started to his eyes; and to give vent to his overcharged feelings, he + broke into a war-whoop; for which he received five black marks and was + kept in at recess. + </p> + <p> + But he minded that very little; all great men, he reflected, have had to + suffer for their country. + </p> + <p> + What Hakon loved above all things to study—nay, the only thing he + loved to study—was the old Sagas, which are tales, poems, and + histories of the deeds of the Norsemen in ancient times. With eleven of + his classmates, who were about his own age and as Norse as himself, he + formed a brotherhood which was called “The Sons of the Vikings.” They gave + each other tremendously bloody surnames, in the style of the Sagas—names + that reeked with gore and heroism. Hakon himself assumed the pleasing + appellation “Skull-splitter,” and his classmate Frithjof Ronning was + dubbed Vargr-i-Veum, which means Wolf-in-the-Temple. One Son of the + Vikings was known as Ironbeard, another as Erling the Lop-Sided, a third + as Thore the Hound, a fourth as Aslak Stone-Skull. But a serious + difficulty, which came near disrupting the brotherhood, arose over these + very names. It was felt that Hakon had taken an unfair advantage of the + rest in selecting the bloodiest name at the outset (before anyone else had + had an opportunity to choose), and there was a general demand that he + should give it up and allow all to draw lots for it. But this Hakon + stoutly refused to do; and declared that if anyone wanted his name he + would have to fight for it, in good old Norse fashion. + </p> + <p> + A holm-gang or duel was then arranged; that is, a ring was marked out with + stones; the combatants stepped within it, and he who could drive his + antagonist outside of the stone ring was declared to be the victor. + Frithjof, who felt that he had a better claim to be named Skull-Splitter + than Hakon, was the first to accept the challenge; but after a terrible + combat was forced to bite the dust. His conqueror was, however, filled + with such a glowing admiration of his valor (as combatants in the Sagas + frequently are), that he proposed that they should swear eternal + friendship and foster-brotherhood, and seal their compact, according to + Norse custom, by the ceremony called “Mingling of Blood.” It is needless + to say that this seemed to all the boys a most delightful proposition; and + they entered upon the august rite with a deep sense of its solemnity. + </p> + <p> + First a piece of sod, about twelve feet square, was carefully raised upon + wooden stakes representing spears, so as to form a green roof over the + foster-brothers. Then, sitting upon the black earth, where the turf had + been removed, they bared their arms to the shoulder, and in the presence + of his ten brethren, as witnesses, each swore that he would regard the + other as his true brother and love him and treat him as such, and avenge + his death if he survived him; in solemn testimony of which each drew a + knife and opened a vein in his arm, letting their blood mingle and flow + together. Hakon, however, in his heroic zeal, drove the knife into his + flesh rather recklessly, and when the blood had flowed profusely for five + minutes, he grew a trifle uneasy. Frithjof, after having bathed his arm in + a neighboring brook, had no difficulty in stanching the blood, but the + poor Skull-Splitter’s wound, in spite of cold water and bandages, kept + pouring forth its warm current without sign of abatement. Hakon grew paler + and paler, and would have burst into tears, if he had not been a “Son of + the Vikings.” It would have been a relief to him, for the moment, not to + have been a “Son of the Vikings.” For he was terribly frightened, and + thought surely he was going to bleed to death. The other Vikings, too, + began to feel rather alarmed at such a prospect; and when Erling the + Lop-Sided (the pastor’s son) proposed that they should carry Hakon to the + doctor, no one made any objection. But the doctor unhappily lived so far + away that Hakon might die before he got there. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then,” said Wolf-in-the Temple, “let us take him to old + Witch-Martha. She can stanch blood and do lots of other queer things.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, and that is much more Norse, too,” suggested Thore the Hound; “wise + women learned physic and bandaged wounds in the olden time. Men were never + doctors.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Witch-Martha is just the right style,” said Erling the Lop-Sided + down in his boots; for he had naturally a shrill voice and gave himself + great pains to produce a manly bass. + </p> + <p> + “We must make a litter to carry the Skull-Splitter on,” exclaimed Einar + Bowstring-Twanger (the sheriff’s son); “he’ll never get to Witch-Martha + alive if he is to walk.” + </p> + <p> + This suggestion was favorably received, the boys set to work with a will, + and in a few minutes had put together a litter of green twigs and + branches. Hakon, who was feeling curiously light-headed and exhausted, + allowed himself to be placed upon it in a reclining position; and its + swinging motion, as his friends carried it along, nearly rocked him to + sleep. The fear of death was but vaguely present to his mind; but his + self-importance grew with every moment, as he saw his blood trickle + through the leaves and drop at the roadside. He appeared to himself a + brave Norse warrior who was being carried by his comrades from the + battle-field, where he had greatly distinguished himself. And now to be + going, to the witch who, by magic rhymes and incantations, was to stanch + the ebbing stream of his life—what could be more delightful? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + Witch Martha lived in a small lonely cottage down by the river. Very few + people ever went to see her in the day-time; but at night she often had + visitors. Mothers who suspected that their children were changelings, whom + the Trolds had put in the cradle, taking the human infants away; girls who + wanted to “turn the hearts” of their lovers, and lovers who wanted to turn + the hearts of the girls; peasants who had lost money or valuables and + wanted help to trace the thief—these and many others sought secret + counsel with Witch-Martha, and rarely went away uncomforted. She was an + old weather-beaten woman with a deeply wrinkled, smoky-brown face, and + small shrewd black eyes. The floor in her cottage was strewn with sand and + fresh juniper twigs; from the rafters under the ceiling hung bunches of + strange herbs; and in the windows were flower-pots with blooming plants in + them. + </p> + <p> + Martha was stooping at the hearth, blowing and puffing at the fire under + her coffee-pot, when the Sons of the Vikings knocked at the door. + Wolf-in-the-Temple was the man who took the lead; and when Witch-Martha + opened the upper half of the door (she never opened both at the same time) + she was not a little astonished to see the Captain’s son, Frithjof + Ronning, staring up at her with an anxious face. + </p> + <p> + “What cost thou want, lad?” she asked, gruffly; “thou hast gone astray + surely, and I’ll show thee the way home.” + </p> + <p> + “I am Wolf-in-the-Temple,” began Frithjof, thrusting out his chest, and + raising his head proudly. + </p> + <p> + “Dear me, you don’t say so!” exclaimed Martha. + </p> + <p> + “My comrade and foster-brother Skull-Splitter has been wounded; and I want + thee, old crone, to stanch his blood before he bleeds to death.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear, dear me, how very strange!” ejaculated the Witch, and shook her + aged head. + </p> + <p> + She had been accustomed to extraordinary requests; but the language of + this boy struck her as being something of the queerest she had yet heard. + </p> + <p> + “Where is thy Skull-Splitter, lad?” she asked, looking at him dubiously. + </p> + <p> + “Right here in the underbrush,” Wolf-in-the-Temple retorted, gallantly; + “stir thy aged stumps now, and thou shalt be right royally rewarded.” + </p> + <p> + He had learned from Walter Scott’s romances that this was the proper way + to address inferiors, and he prided himself not a little on his jaunty + condescension. Imagine then his surprise when the “old crone” suddenly + turned on him with an angry scowl and said: + </p> + <p> + “If thou canst not keep a civil tongue in thy head, I’ll bring a thousand + plagues upon thee, thou umnannerly boy.” + </p> + <p> + By this threat Wolf-in-the-Temple’s courage was sadly shaken. He knew + Martha’s reputation as a witch, and had no desire to test in his own + person whether rumor belied her. + </p> + <p> + “Please, mum, I beg of you,” he said, with a sudden change of tone; “my + friend Hakon Vang is bleeding to death; won’t you please help him?” + </p> + <p> + “Thy friend Hakon Vang!” cried Martha, to whom that name was very + familiar; “bring him in, as quick as thou canst, and I’ll do what I can + for him.” + </p> + <p> + Wolf-in-the-Temple put two fingers into his mouth and gave a loud shrill + whistle, which was answered from the woods, and presently the small + procession moved up to the door, carrying their wounded comrade between + them. The poor Skull-Splitter was now as white as a sheet, and the + drowsiness of his eyes and the laxness of his features showed that help + came none too early. Martha, in hot haste, grabbed a bag of herbs, thrust + it into a pot of warm water, and clapped it on the wound. Then she began + to wag her head slowly to and fro, and crooned, to a soft and plaintive + tune, words which sounded to the ears of the boys shudderingly strange: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “I conjure in water, I conjure in lead, + I conjure with herbs that grew o’er the dead; + I conjure with flowers that I plucked, without shoon, + When the ghosts were abroad, in the wane of the moon. + I conjure with spirits of earth and air + That make the wind sigh and cry in despair; + I conjure by him within sevenfold rings + That sits and broods at the roots of things. + I conjure by him who healeth strife, + Who plants and waters the germs of life. + I conjure, I conjure, I bid thee be still, + Thou ruddy stream, thou hast flowed thy fill! + Return to thy channel and nurture his life + Till his destined measure of years be rife.” + </pre> + <p> + She sang the last two lines with sudden energy; and when she removed her + hand from the wound, the blood had ceased to flow. The poor Skull-Splitter + was sleeping soundly; and his friends, shivering a little with mysterious + fears, marched up and down whispering to one another. They set a guard of + honor at the leafy couch of their wounded comrade; intercepted the green + worms and other insects that kept dropping down upon him from the alder + branches overhead, and brushed away the flies that would fain disturb his + slumbers. They were all steeped to the core in old Norse heroism; and they + enjoyed the situation hugely. All the life about them was half blotted + out; they saw it but dimly. That light of youthful romance, which never + was on sea or land, transformed all the common things that met their + vision into something strange and wonderful. They strained their ears to + catch the meaning of the song of the birds, so that they might learn from + them the secrets of the future, as Sigurd the Volsung did, after he had + slain the dragon, Fafnir. The woods round about them were filled with + dragons and fabulous beasts, whose tracks they detected with the eyes of + faith; and they started out every morning, during the all too brief + vacation, on imaginary expeditions against imaginary monsters. + </p> + <p> + When at the end of an hour the Skull-Splitter woke from his slumber, much + refreshed, Witch-Martha bandaged his arm carefully, and Wolf-in-the Temple + (having no golden arm-rings) tossed her, with magnificent + superciliousness, his purse, which contained six cents. But she flung it + back at him with such force that he had to dodge with more adroitness than + dignity. + </p> + <p> + “I’ll get my claws into thee some day, thou foolish lad,” she said, + lifting her lean vulture-like hand with a threatening gesture. + </p> + <p> + “No, please don’t, Martha, I didn’t mean anything,” cried the boy, in + great alarm; “you’ll forgive me, won’t you, Martha?” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll bid thee begone, and take thy foolish tongue along with thee,” she + answered, in a mollified tone. + </p> + <p> + And the Sons of the Vikings, taking the hint, shouldered the litter once + more, and reached Skull-Splitter’s home in time for supper. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. + </h2> + <p> + The Sons of the Vikings were much troubled. Every heroic deed which they + plotted had this little disadvantage, that they were in danger of going to + jail for it. They could not steal cattle and horses, because they did not + know what to do with them when they had got them; they could not sail away + over the briny deep in search of fortune or glory, because they had no + ships; and sail-boats were scarcely big enough for daring voyages to the + blooming South which their ancestors had ravaged. The precious vacation + was slipping away, and as yet they had accomplished nothing that could at + all be called heroic. It was while the brotherhood was lamenting this fact + that Wolf-in-the-Temple had a brilliant idea. He procured his father’s + permission to invite his eleven companions to spend a day and a night at + the Ronning saeter, or mountain dairy, far up in the highlands. The only + condition Mr. Ronning made was that they were to be accompanied by his + man, Brumle-Knute, who was to be responsible for their safety. But the + boys determined privately to make Brumle-Knute their prisoner, in case he + showed any disposition to spoil their sport. To spend a day and a night in + the woods, to imagine themselves Vikings, and behave as they imagined + Vikings would behave, was a prospect which no one could contemplate + without the most delightful excitement. There, far away from sheriffs and + pastors and maternal supervision, they might perhaps find the long-desired + chance of performing their heroic deed. + </p> + <p> + It was a beautiful morning early in August that the boys started from + Strandholm, Mr. Ronning’s estate, accompanied by Brumle-Knute. The latter + was a middle-aged, round-shouldered peasant, who had the habit of always + talking to himself. To look at him you would have supposed that he was a + rough and stupid fellow who would have quite enough to do in looking after + himself. But the fact was, that Brumle-Knute was the best shot, the best + climber—and altogether the most keen-eyed hunter in the whole + valley. It was a saying that he could scent game so well that he never + needed a dog; and that he could imitate to perfection the call of every + game bird that inhabited the mountain glens. Sweet-tempered he was not; + but so reliable, skilful, and vigilant, and moreover so thorough a + woodsman, that the boys could well afford to put up with his gruff temper. + </p> + <p> + The Sons of the Vikings were all mounted on ponies; and + Wolf-in-the-Temple, who had been elected chieftain, led the troop. At his + side rode Skull-Splitter, who was yet a trifle pale after his + blood-letting, but brimming over with ambition to distinguish himself. + They had all tied their trousers to their legs with leather thongs, in + order to be perfectly “Old Norse;” and some of them had turned their + plaids and summer overcoats inside out, displaying the gorgeous colors of + the lining. Loosely attached about their necks and flying in the wind, + these could easily serve for scarlet or purple cloaks wrought on Syrian + looms. Most of the boys carried also wooden swords and shields, and the + chief had a long loor or Alpine horn. Only the valiant Ironbeard, whose + father was a military man, had a real sword and a real scabbard into the + bargain. Wolf-in-the-Temple, and Erling the Lop-Sided, had each an old + fowling-piece; and Brumle-Knute carried a double-barrelled rifle. This, to + be sure, was not; quite historically correct; but firearms are so useful + in the woods, even if they are not correct, that it was resolved not to + notice the irregularity; for there were boars in the mountains, besides + wolves and foxes and no end of smaller game. + </p> + <p> + For an hour or more the procession rode, single file, up the steep and + rugged mountain-paths; but the boys were all in high spirits and enjoyed + themselves hugely. The mere fact that they were Vikings, on a daring + foraging expedition into a neighboring kingdom, imparted a wonderful zest + to everything they did and said. It might be foolish, but it was on that + account none the less delightful. They sent out scouts to watch for the + approach of an imaginary enemy; they had secret pass-words and signs; they + swore (Viking style) by Thor’s hammer and by Odin’s eye. They talked + appalling nonsense to each other with a delicious sentiment of its awful + blood-curdling character. It was about noon when they reached the + Strandholm saeter, which consisted of three turf-thatched log-cabins or + chalets, surrounded by a green inclosure of half a dozen acres. The wide + highland plain, eight or ten miles long, was bounded on the north and west + by throngs of snow-hooded mountain peaks, which rose, one behind another, + in glittering grandeur; and in the middle of the plain there were two + lakes or tarns, connected by a river which was milky white where it + entered the lakes and clear as crystal where it escaped. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Vikings,” cried Wolf-in-the-Temple, when the boys had done justice + to their dinner, “it behooves us to do valiant deeds, and to prove + ourselves worthy of our fathers.” + </p> + <p> + “Hear, hear,” shouted Ironbeard, who was fourteen years old and had a + shadow of a moustache, “I am in for great deeds, hip, hip, hurrah!” + </p> + <p> + “Hold your tongue when you hear me speak,” commanded the chieftain, + loftily; “we will lie in wait at the ford, between the two tarns, and + capture the travellers who pass that way. If perchance a princess from the + neighboring kingdom pass, on the way to her dominions, we will hold her + captive until her father, the king, comes to ransom her with heaps of gold + in rings and fine garments and precious weapons.” + </p> + <p> + “But what are we to do with her when we have caught her?” asked the + Skull-Splitter, innocently. + </p> + <p> + “We will keep her imprisoned in the empty saeter hut,” Wolf-in-the-Temple + responded. “Now, are you ready? We’ll leave the horses here on the croft, + until our return.” + </p> + <p> + The question now was to elude Brumle-Knute’s vigilance; for the Sons of + the Vikings had good reasons for fearing that he might interfere with + their enterprise. They therefore waited until Brumle-knute was invited by + the dairymaid to sit down to dinner. No sooner had the door closed upon + his stooping figure, than they stole out through a hole in the fence, + crept on all-fours among the tangled dwarf-birches and the big gray + boulders, and following close in the track of their leader, reached the + ford between the lakes. There they observed two enormous heaps of stones + known as the Parson and the Deacon; for it had been the custom from + immemorial times for every traveller to fling a big stone as a “sacrifice” + for good luck upon the Parson’s heap and a small stone upon the Deacon’s. + Behind these piles of stone the boys hid themselves, keeping a watchful + eye on the road and waiting for their chief’s signal to pounce upon unwary + travellers. They lay for about fifteen minutes in expectant silence, and + were on the point of losing their patience. + </p> + <p> + “Look here, Wolf-in-the-Temple,” cried Erling the Lop-Sided, “you may + think this is fun, but I don’t. Let us take the raft there and go fishing. + The tarn is simply crowded with perch and bass.” + </p> + <p> + “Hold your disrespectful tongue,” whispered the chief, warningly, “or I’ll + discipline you so you’ll remember it till your dying day.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho, ho!” laughed the rebel, jeeringly; “big words and fat pork don’t + stick in the throat. Wait till I get you alone and we shall see who’ll be + disciplined.” + </p> + <p> + Erling had risen and was about to emerge from his hiding-place, when + suddenly hoof-beats were heard, and a horse was seen approaching, carrying + on its back a stalwart peasant lass, in whose lap a pretty little girl of + twelve or thirteen was sitting. + </p> + <p> + The former was clad in scarlet bodice, a black embroidered skirt, and a + snowy-white kerchief was tied about her head. Her blonde hair hung in + golden profusion down over her back and shoulders. The little girl was + city-clad, and had a sweet and appealing face. She was chattering + guilelessly with her companion, asking more questions than she could + possibly expect to have answered. Nearer and nearer they came to the great + stone heaps, dreaming of no harm. + </p> + <p> + “And, Gunbjor,” the Skull-Splitter heard the little girl say, “you don’t + really believe that there are trolds and fairies in the mountains, do + you?” + </p> + <p> + “Them as are wiser than I am have believed that,” was Gunbjor’s answer; + “but we don’t hear so much about the trolds nowadays as they did when my + granny was young. Then they took young girls into the mountain and——” + </p> + <p> + Here came a wild, piercing yell, as the Sons of the Vikings rushed forward + from behind the rocks, and with a terrible war-whoop swooped down upon the + road. Wolf-in-the-Temple, who led the band, seized the horse by the + bridle, and flourishing his sword threateningly, addressed the frightened + peasant lass. + </p> + <p> + “Is this, perchance, the Princess Kunigunde, the heir to the throne of my + good friend, King Bjorn the Victorious?” he asked, with a magnificent air, + seizing the trembling little girl by the wrist. + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” Gunbjor answered, as soon as she could find her voice, “this is the + Deacon’s Maggie, as is going to the saeter with me to spend Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + “She cannot proceed on her way,” said the chieftain, decisively, “she is + my prisoner.” + </p> + <p> + Gunbjor, who had been frightened out of her wits by the small red- and + blue-cloaked men, swarming among the stones, taking them to be trolds or + fairies, now gradually recovered her senses. She recognized in Erling the + Lop-Sided the well-known features of the parson’s son; and as soon as she + had made this discovery she had no great difficulty in identifying the + rest. “Never you fear, pet,” she said to the child in her lap, “these be + bad boys as want to frighten us. I’ll give them a switching if they don’t + look out.” + </p> + <p> + “The Princess Kunigunde is my prisoner until it please her noble father to + ransom her for ten pounds of silver,” repeated Wolf-in-the-Temple, putting + his arm about little Maggie’s waist and trying to lift her from the + saddle. + </p> + <p> + “You keep yer hands off the child, or I’ll give you ten pounds of + thrashing,” cried Gunbjor, angrily. + </p> + <p> + “She shall be treated with the respect due to her rank,” + Wolf-in-the-Temple proceeded, loftily. “I give King Bjorn the Victorious + three moons in which to bring me the ransom.” + </p> + <p> + “And I’ll give you three boxes on the ear, and a cut with my whip, into + the bargain, if you don’t let the horse alone, and take yer hands off the + child.” + </p> + <p> + “Vikings!” cried the chief, “lay hands on her! Tear her from the saddle! + She has defied us! She deserves no mercy.” + </p> + <p> + With a tremendous yell the boys rushed forward, brandishing their swords + above their heads, and pulled Gunbjor from the saddle. But she held on to + her charge with a vigorous clutch, and as soon as her feet touched the + ground she began with her disengaged hand to lay about her, with her whip, + in a way that proved extremely unpleasant. Wolf-in-the-Temple, against + whom her assault was especially directed, received some bad cuts across + his face, and Ironbeard was driven backward into the ford, where he fell, + full length, and rose dripping wet and mortified. Thore the Hound got a + thump in his head from Gunbjor’s stalwart elbows, and Skull-Splitter, who + had more courage than discretion, was pitched into the water with no more + ceremony than if he had been a superfluous kitten. The fact was—I + cannot disguise it—within five minutes the whole valiant band of the + Sons of the Vikings were routed by that terrible switch, wielded by the + intrepid Gunbjor. When the last of her foes had bitten the dust, she + calmly remounted her pony, and with the Deacon’s Maggie in her lap rode, + at a leisurely pace, across the ford. + </p> + <p> + “Good-by, lads,” she said, nodding her head at them over her shoulder; “ye + needn’t be afraid. I won’t tell on you.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. + </h2> + <p> + To have been routed by a woman was a terrible humiliation to the valiant + Sons of the Vikings. They were silent and moody during the evening, and + sat staring into the big bonfire on the saeter green with stern and + melancholy features. They had suffered defeat in battle, and it behooved + them to avenge it. About nine o’clock they retired into their bunks in the + log cabin, but no sooner was Brumle-Knute’s rhythmic snoring perceived + than Wolf-in-the-Temple put his head out and called to his comrades to + meet him in front of the house for a council of war. Instantly they + scrambled out of their alcoves, pulled on their coats and trousers; and + noiselessly stole out into the night. The sun was yet visible, but a red + veil of fiery mist was drawn across his face; and a magic air of + fairy-tales and strange unreality was diffused over mountains, plains and + lakes. The river wound like a huge, blood-red serpent through the mountain + pastures, and the snow-hooded peaks blazed with fiery splendor. + </p> + <p> + The boys were quite stunned at the sight of such magnificence, and stood + for some minutes gazing at the landscape, before giving heed to the + summons of the chief. + </p> + <p> + “Comrades,” said Wolf-in-the-Temple, solemnly, “what is life without + honor?” + </p> + <p> + There was not a soul present who could answer that conundrum, and after a + fitting pause the chief was forced to answer it himself. + </p> + <p> + “Life without honor, comrades,” he said, severely, “life—without + honor is—nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “Hear, hear!” cried Ironbeard; “good for you, old man!” + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” thundered Wolf-in-the-Temple, “I must beg the gentlemen to + observe the proprieties.” + </p> + <p> + This tremendous phrase rarely failed to restore order, and the flippant + Ironbeard was duly rebuked by the glances of displeasure which met him on + all sides. But in the meanwhile the chief had lost the thread of his + speech and could not recover it. “Vikings,” he resumed, clearing his + throat vehemently, “we have been—that is to say—we have + sustained——” + </p> + <p> + “A thrashing,” supplied the innocent Skull-Splitter. + </p> + <p> + But the awful stare which was fixed upon him convinced him that he had + made a mistake; and he shrunk into an abashed silence. “We must do + something to retrieve our honor,” continued the chief, earnestly; “we must—take + steps—to to get upon our legs again,” he finished, blushing with + embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “I would suggest that we get upon our legs first, and take the steps + afterward,” remarked the flippant Ironbeard, with a sly wink at Thore the + Hound. + </p> + <p> + The chief held it to be beneath his dignity to notice this interruption, + and after having gazed for a while in silence at the blood-red mountain + peaks, he continued, more at his ease: + </p> + <p> + “I propose, comrades, that we go on a bear hunt. Then, when we return with + a bear-skin or two, our honor will be all right; no one will dare laugh at + us. The brave boy-hunters will be the admiration and pride of the whole + valley.” + </p> + <p> + “But Brummle-Knute,” observed the Skull-Splitter; “do you think he will + allow us to go bear-hunting?” + </p> + <p> + “What do we care whether he allows us or not?” cried Wolf-in-the-Temple, + scornfully; “he sleeps like a log; and I propose that we tie his hands and + feet before we start.” + </p> + <p> + This suggestion met with enthusiastic approval, and all the boys laughed + heartily at the idea of Brumle-Knute waking up and finding himself tied + with ropes, like a calf that is carried to market. + </p> + <p> + “Now, comrades,” commanded the chief, with a flourish of his sword, “get + to bed quickly. I’ll call you at four o’clock; we’ll then start to chase + the monarch of the mountains.” + </p> + <p> + The Sons of the Vikings scrambled into their bunks with great despatch; + and though their beds consisted of pine twigs, covered with a coarse + sheet, and a bat of straw for a pillow, they fell asleep without rocking, + and slept more soundly than if they had rested on silken bolsters filled + with eiderdown. Wolf-in-the-Temple was as good as his word, and waked them + promptly at four o’clock; and their first task, after having filled their + knapsacks with provisions, was to tie Brumle-Knute’s hands and feet with + the most cunning slip-knots, which would tighten more, the more he + struggled to unloose them. Ironbeard, who had served a year before the + mast, was the contriver of this daring enterprise; and he did it so + cleverly that Brumle-Knute never suspected that his liberty was being + interfered with. He snorted a little and rubbed imaginary cobwebs from his + face; but soon lapsed again into a deep, snoring unconsciousness. + </p> + <p> + The faces of the Sons of the Vikings grew very serious as they started out + on this dangerous expedition. There was more than one of them who would + not have objected to remaining at home, but who feared to incur the charge + of cowardice if he opposed the wishes of the rest. Wolf-in-the-Temple + walked at the head of the column, as they hastened with stealthy tread out + of the saeter inclosure, and steered their course toward the dense pine + forest, the tops of which were visible toward the east, where the mountain + sloped toward the valley. He carried his fowling-piece, loaded with shot, + in his right hand, and a powder-horn and other equipments for the chase + were flung across his shoulder. Erling the Lop-Sided was similarly armed, + and Ironbeard, glorying in a real sword, unsheathed it every minute and + let it flash in the sun. It was a great consolation to the rest of the + Vikings to see these formidable weapons; for they were not wise enough to + know that grown-up bears are not killed with shot, and that a + fowling-piece is a good deal more dangerous than no weapon at all, in the + hands of an inexperienced hunter. + </p> + <p> + The sun, who had exchanged his flaming robe de nuit for the rosy colors of + morning, was now shooting his bright shafts of light across the mountain + plain, and cheering the hearts of the Sons of the Vikings. The air was + fresh and cool; and it seemed a luxury to breathe it. It entered the lungs + in a pure, vivifying stream like an elixir of life, and sent the blood + dancing through the veins. It was impossible to mope in such air; and + Ironbeard interpreted the general mood when he struck up the tune: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “We wander with joy on the far mountain path, + We follow the star that will guide us;” + </pre> + <p> + but before he had finished the third verse, it occurred to the chief that + they were bear-hunters, and that it was very unsportsmanlike behavior to + sing on the chase. For all that they were all very jolly, throbbing with + excitement at the thought of the adventures which they were about to + encounter; and concealing a latent spark of fear under an excess of + bravado. At the end of an hour’s march they had reached the pine forest; + and as they were all ravenously hungry they sat down upon the stones, + where a clear mountain brook ran down the slope, and unpacked their + provisions. Wolf-in-the-Temple had just helped himself, in old Norse + fashion, to a slice of smoked ham, having slashed a piece off at random + with his knife, when Erling the Lop-Sided observed that that ham had a + very curious odor. Everyone had to test its smell; and they all agreed + that it did have a singular flavor, though its taste was irreproachable. + </p> + <p> + “It smells like a menagerie,” said the Skull-Splitter, as he handed it to + Thore the Hound. + </p> + <p> + “But the bread and the biscuit smell just the same,” said Thore the Hound; + “in fact, it is the air that smells like a menagerie.” + </p> + <p> + “Boys,” cried Wolf-in-the-Temple, “do you see that track in the mud?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; it is the track of a barefooted man,” suggested the innocent + Skull-Splitter. + </p> + <p> + Ironbeard and Erling the Lop-Sided flung themselves down among the stones + and investigated the tracks; and they were no longer in doubt as to where + the pungent wild odor came from, which they had attributed to the ham. + </p> + <p> + “Boys,” said Erling, looking up with an excited face, “a she-bear with one + or two cubs has been here within a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + “This is her drinking-place,” said Ironbeard: “the tracks are many and + well-worn; if she hasn’t been here this morning, she is sure to come + before long.” + </p> + <p> + “We are in luck indeed,” Wolf-in-the-Temple observed, coolly; “we needn’t + go far for our bear. He will be coming for us.” + </p> + <p> + At that moment the note of an Alpine horn was heard; but it was impossible + to determine how far it was away; for the echo took up the note and flung + it back and forth with clear and strong reverberations from mountain to + mountain. + </p> + <p> + “It is Brumle-Knute who is calling us,” said Thore the Hound. “The + dairymaid must have released him. Shall we answer?” + </p> + <p> + “Never,” cried the chief, proudly; “I forbid you to answer. Here we have + our heroic deed in sight, and I want no one to spoil it. If there is a + coward among us, let him take to his heels; no one shall detain him.” + </p> + <p> + There were perhaps several who would have liked to accept the invitation; + but no one did. Skull-Splitter, by way of diversion, plumped backward into + the brook, and sat down in the cool pool up to his waist. But nobody + laughed at his mishap; because they had their minds full of more serious + thoughts. Wolf-in-the-Temple, who had climbed up on a big moss-grown + boulder, stood, gun in hand, and peered in among the bushes. + </p> + <p> + “Boys,” he whispered, “drop down on your bellies—quick.” + </p> + <p> + All, crowding behind a rock, obeyed, pushing themselves into position with + hands and feet. With wildly beating hearts the Vikings gazed up among the + gray wilderness of stone and underbrush, and first one, then another, + caught sight of something brown and hairy that came toddling down toward + them, now rolling like a ball of yarn, now turning a somersault, and now + again pegging industriously along on four clumsy paws. It was the + prettiest little bear cub that ever woke on its mossy lair in the woods. + Now it came shuffling down in a boozy way to take its morning bath. It + seemed but half awake; and Skull-Splitter imagined that it was a trifle + cross, because its mother had waked it too early. Evidently it had made no + toilet as yet, for bits of moss were sticking in its hair; and it yawned + once or twice, and shook its head disgustedly. Skull-Splitter knew so well + that feeling and could sympathize with the poor young cub. But + Wolf-in-the-Temple, who watched it no less intently, was filled with quite + different emotions. Here was his heroic deed, for which he had hungered so + long. To shoot a bear—that was a deed worthy of a Norseman. One step + more—then two—and then—up rose the bear cub on its hind + legs and rubbed its eyes with its paws. Now he had a clean shot—now + or never; and pulling the trigger Wolf-in-the-Temple blazed away and sent + a handful of shot into the carcass of the poor little bear. Up jumped all + the Sons of the Vikings from behind their stones, and, with a shout of + triumph, ran up the path to where the cub was lying. It had rolled itself + up into a brown ball, and whimpered like a child in pain. But at that very + moment there came an ominous growl out of the underbrush, and a crackling + and creaking of branches was heard which made the hearts of the boys stand + still. + </p> + <p> + “Erling,” cried Wolf-in-the-Temple, “hand me your gun, and load mine for + me as quick as you can.” + </p> + <p> + The words were scarcely out of his mouth when the head of a big brown + she-bear became visible among the bushes. She paused in the path, where + her cub was lying, turned him over with her paw, licked his face, grumbled + with a low soothing tone, snuffed him all over and rubbed her nose against + his snout. But unwarily she must have touched some sore spot; for the cub + gave a sharp yelp of pain and writhed and whimpered as he looked up into + his mother’s eyes, clumsily returning her caresses. The boys, half emerged + from their hiding-places, stood watching this demonstration of affection + not without sympathy; and Skull-Splitter, for one, heartily wished that + the chief had not wounded the little bear. Quite ignorant as he was of the + nature of bears, he allowed his compassion to get the better of his + judgment. It seemed such a pity that the poor little beast should lie + there and suffer with one eye put out and forty or fifty bits of lead + distributed through its body. It would be much more merciful to put it out + of its misery altogether. And accordingly when Erling the Lop-Sided handed + him his gun to pass on to the chief, Skull-Splitter started forward, flung + the gun to his cheek, and blazed away at the little bear once more, + entirely heedless of consequences. It was a random, unskilful shot, which + was about equally shared by the cub and its mother. And the latter was not + in a mood to be trifled with. With an angry roar she rose on her hind legs + and advanced against the unhappy Skull-Splitter with two uplifted paws. In + another moment she would give him one of her vigorous “left-handers,” + which would probably pacify him forever. Ironbeard gave a scream of terror + and Thore the Hound broke down an alder-sapling in his excitement. But + Wolf-in-the-Temple, remembering that he had sworn foster-brotherhood with + this brave and foolish little lad, thought that now was the time to show + his heroism. Here it was no longer play, but dead earnest. Down he leaped + from his rock, and just as the she-bear was within a foot of the + Skull-Splitter, he dealt her a blow in the head with the butt end of his + gun which made the sparks dance before her eyes. She turned suddenly + toward her new assailant, growling savagely, and scratched her ear with + her paw. And Skull-Splitter, who had slipped on the pine needles and + fallen, scrambled to his feet again, leaving his gun on the ground, and + with a few aimless steps tumbled once more into the brook. Ironbeard, + seeing that he was being outdone by his chief, was quick to seize the gun, + and rushing forward dealt the she-bear another blow, which, instead of + disabling her, only exasperated her further. She glared with her small + bloodshot eyes now at the one, now at the other boy, as if in doubt which + she would tackle first. It was an awful moment; one or the other might + have saved himself by flight, but each was determined to stand his ground. + Vikings could die, but never flee. With a furious growl the she-bear + started toward her last assailant, lifting her terrible paw. Ironbeard + backed a few steps, pointing his gun before him; and with benumbing force + the paw descended upon the gun-barrel, striking it out of his hands. + </p> + <p> + It seemed all of a sudden to the boy as if his arms were asleep up to the + shoulders; he had a stinging sensation in his flesh and a humming in his + ears, which made him fear that his last hour had come. If the bear renewed + the attack now, he was utterly defenceless. He was not exactly afraid, but + he was numb all over. It seemed to matter little what became of him. + </p> + <p> + But now a strange thing happened. To his unutterable astonishment he saw + the she-bear drop down on all fours and vent her rage on the gun, which, + in a trice, was bent and broken into a dozen fragments. But in this + diversion she was interrupted by Wolf-in-the-Temple, who hammered away + again at her head with the heavy end of his weapon. Again she rose, and + presented two rows of white teeth which looked as if they meant business. + It was the chief’s turn now to meet his fate; and it was the more serious + because his helper was disarmed and could give him no assistance. With a + wildly thumping heart he raised the butt end of his gun and dashed + forward, when as by a miracle a shot was heard—a sharp, loud shot + that rumbled away with manifold reverberations among the mountains. In the + same instant the huge brown bear tumbled forward, rolled over, with a + gasping growl, and was dead. + </p> + <p> + “O Brumle-Knute! Brumle-Knute!” yelled the boys in joyous chorus, as they + saw their rescuer coming forward from behind the rocks, “how did you find + us?” + </p> + <p> + “I heard yer shots and I saw yer tracks,” said Brumle-Knute, dryly; “but + when ye go bear-hunting another time ye had better load with bullets + instead of bird-shot.” + </p> + <p> + “But Brumle-Knute, we only wanted to shoot the little bear,” protested + Wolf-in-the-Temple. + </p> + <p> + “That may be,” Brumle-Knute replied; “but the big bears, they are a + curiously unreasonable lot—they are apt to get mad when you fire at + their little ones. Next time you must recollect to take the big bear into + account.” + </p> + <p> + I need not tell you that the Sons of the Vikings became great heroes when + the rumor of their bear hunt was noised abroad through the valley. But, + for all that, they determined to disband their brotherhood. + Wolf-in-the-Temple expressed the sentiment of all when, at their last + meeting, he made a speech, in which these words occurred: + </p> + <p> + “Brothers, the world isn’t quite the same now as it was in the days when + our Viking forefathers spread the terror of their name through the South. + We are not so strong as they were, nor so hardy. When we mingle blood, we + have to send for a surgeon. If we steal princesses we may go to jail for + it—or—or—well—never mind—what else may + happen. Heroism isn’t appreciated as once it was in this country; and I, + for one, won’t try to be a hero any more. I resign my chieftainship now, + when I can do it with credit. Let us all make our bows of adieu as bear + hunters; and if we don’t do anything more in the heroic line it is not + because we can’t, but because we won’t.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + PAUL JESPERSEN’S MASQUERADE + </h2> + <p> + There was great excitement in the little Norse town, Bumlebro, because + there was going to be a masquerade. Everybody was busy inventing the + character which he was to represent, and the costume in which he was to + represent it. + </p> + <p> + Miss Amelia Norbeck, the apothecary’s daughter, had intended to be Marie + Antoinette, but had to give it up because the silk stockings were too + dear, although she had already procured the beauty-patches and the + powdered wig. + </p> + <p> + Miss Arctander, the judge’s daughter, was to be Night, in black tulle, + spangled with silver stars, and Miss Hanna Broby was to be Morning, in + white tulle and pink roses. + </p> + <p> + There had never BEEN a masquerade in Bumlebro, and there would not have + been one now, if it had not been for the enterprise of young Arctander and + young Norbeck, who had just returned from the military academy in the + capital, and were anxious to exhibit themselves to the young girls in + their glory. + </p> + <p> + Of course, they could not afford to be exclusive, for there were but + twenty or thirty families in the town that laid any claims to gentility, + and they had all to be invited in order to fill the hall and pay the + bills. Thus it came to pass that Paul Jespersen, the book-keeper in the + fish-exporting firm of Broby & Larsen, received a card, although, to + be sure, there had been a long debate in the committee as to where the + line should be drawn. + </p> + <p> + Paul Jespersen was uncommonly elated when he read the invitation, which + was written on a gilt-edged card, requesting the pleasure of Mr. + Jespersen’s company at a bal masque Tuesday, January 3d, in the + Association Hall. + </p> + <p> + “The pleasure of his company!” + </p> + <p> + Think of it! He felt so flattered that he blushed to the tips of his ears. + It must have been Miss Clara Broby who had induced them to be so polite to + him, for those insolent cadets, who only nodded patronizingly to him in + response to his deferential greeting, would never have asked for “the + pleasure of his company.” + </p> + <p> + Having satisfied himself on this point, Paul went to call upon Miss Clara + in the evening, in order to pay her some compliment and consult her in + regard to his costume; but Miss Clara, as it happened, was much more + interested in her own costume than in that of Mr. Jespersen, and offered + no useful suggestions. + </p> + <p> + “What character would you advise me to select, Mr. Jespersen?” she + inquired, sweetly. “My sister Hanna, you know, is going to be Morning, so + I can’t be that, and it seems to me Morning would have suited me just + lovely.” + </p> + <p> + “Go as Beauty,” suggested Mr. Jespersen, blushing at the thought of his + audacity. + </p> + <p> + “So I will, Mr. Jespersen,” she answered, laughing, “if you will go as the + Beast.” + </p> + <p> + Paul, being a simple-hearted fellow, failed to see any sarcasm in this, + but interpreted it rather as a hint that Miss Clara desired his escort, as + Beauty, of course, only would be recognizable in her proper character by + the presence of the Beast. + </p> + <p> + “I shall be delighted, Miss Clara,” he said, beaming with pleasure. “If + you will be my Beauty, I’ll be your Beast.” + </p> + <p> + Miss Clara did not know exactly how to take this, and was rather + absent-minded during the rest of the interview. She had been chaffing Mr. + Jespersen, of course, but she did not wish to be absolutely rude to him, + because he was her father’s employee, and, as she often heard her father + say, a very valuable and trustworthy young man. + </p> + <p> + When Paul got home he began at once to ponder upon his character as Beast, + and particularly as Miss Clara’s Beast. It occurred to him that his uncle, + the furrier, had an enormous bear-skin, with head, eyes, claws, and all + that was necessary, and without delay he went to try it on. + </p> + <p> + His uncle, feeling that this event was somehow to redound to the credit of + the family, agreed to make the necessary alterations at a trifling cost, + and when the night of the masquerade arrived, Paul was so startled at his + appearance that he would have run away from himself if such a thing had + been possible. He had never imagined that he would make such a successful + Beast. + </p> + <p> + By an ingenious contrivance with a string, which he pulled with his hand, + he was able to move his lower jaw, which, with its red tongue and terrible + teeth, presented an awful appearance. By patching the skin a little + behind, his head was made to fit comfortably into the bear’s head, and his + mild blue eyes looked out of the holes from which the bear’s eyes had been + removed. The skin was laced with thin leather thongs from the neck down, + but the long, shaggy fur made the lacing invisible. + </p> + <p> + Paul Jespersen practiced ursine behavior before the looking-glass for + about half an hour. Then, being uncomfortably warm, he started + down-stairs, and determined to walk to the Association Hall. He chuckled + to himself at the thought of the sensation he would make, if he should + happen to meet anybody on the road. + </p> + <p> + Having never attended a masquerade before, he did not know that + dressing-rooms were provided for the maskers, and, being averse to + needless expenditure, he would as soon have thought of flying as of taking + a carriage. There was, in fact, but one carriage on runners in the town, + and that was already engaged by half a dozen parties. + </p> + <p> + The moon was shining faintly upon the snow, and there was a sharp frost in + the air when Paul Jespersen put his hairy head out of the street-door and + reconnoitred the territory. + </p> + <p> + There was not a soul to be seen, except an old beggar woman who was + hobbling along, supporting herself with two sticks. Paul darted, as + quickly as his unwieldly bulk would allow, into the middle of the street. + He enjoyed intensely the fun of walking abroad in such a monstrous guise. + He contemplated with boyish satisfaction his shadow which stretched, long + and black and horrible, across the snow. + </p> + <p> + It was a bit slippery, and he had to manoeuvre carefully in order to keep + right side up. Presently he caught up with the beggar woman. + </p> + <p> + “Good-evening!” he said. + </p> + <p> + The old woman turned about, stared at him horror-stricken; then, as soon + as she had collected her senses, took to her heels, yelling at the top of + her voice. A big mastiff, who had just been let loose for the night, began + to bark angrily in a back yard, and a dozen comrades responded from other + yards, and came bounding into the street. + </p> + <p> + “Hello!” thought Paul Jespersen. “Now look out for trouble.” + </p> + <p> + He felt anything but hilarious when he saw the pack of angry dogs dancing + and leaping about him, barking in a wildly discordant chorus. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Hector, you fool, don’t you know me?” he said, coaxingly, to the + judge’s mastiff. “And you, Sultan, old man! You ought to be ashamed of + yourself! Here, Caro, that’s a good fellow! Come, now, don’t excite + yourself!” + </p> + <p> + But Hector, Sultan, and Caro were all proof against such blandishments, + and as for Bismarck, the apothecary’s collie, he grew every moment more + furious, and showed his teeth in a very uncomfortable fashion. + </p> + <p> + To defend one’s self was not to be thought of, for what defence is + possible to a sham bear against a dozen genuine dogs? Paul could use + neither his teeth nor his claws to any purpose, while the dogs could use + theirs, as he presently discovered, with excellent effect. + </p> + <p> + He had just concluded to seek safety in flight, when suddenly he felt a + bite in his left calf, and saw the brute Bismarck tug away at his leg as + if it had been a mutton-chop. He had scarcely recovered from this surprise + when he heard a sharp report, and a bullet whizzed away over his head, + after having neatly put a hole through the right ear. Paul concluded, with + reason, that things were getting serious. + </p> + <p> + If he could only get hold of that blockhead, the judge’s groom, who was + violating the law about fire-arms, he would give him an exhibition in + athletics which he would not soon forget; but, being for the moment + deprived of this pleasure, he knew of nothing better to do than to dodge + through the nearest street-door, and implore the protection of the very + first individual he might meet. + </p> + <p> + It so happened that Paul selected the house of two middle-aged milliners + for this experiment. + </p> + <p> + Jemina and Malla Hansen were just seated at the table drinking tea with + their one constant visitor, the post-office clerk, Mathias, when, all of a + sudden, they heard a tremendous racket in the hall, and the furious + barking of dogs. + </p> + <p> + With a scream of fright, the two old maids jumyed up, dropping their + precious tea-cups, and old Mathias, who had tipped his chair a little + backward, lost his balance, and pointed his heels toward the ceiling. + Before he had time to pick himself up the door was burst open and a great + hairy monster sprang into the room. + </p> + <p> + “Mercy upon us!” cried Jemina. “It is the devil!” + </p> + <p> + But now came the worst of it all. The bear put his paw on his heart, and + with the politest bow in the world, remarked: + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, ladies, if I intrude.” + </p> + <p> + He had meant to say more, but his audience had vanished; only the flying + tails of Mathias’s coat were seen, as he slammed the door on them, in his + precipitate flight. + </p> + <p> + “Police! police!” someone shouted out of the window of the adjoining room. + </p> + <p> + Police! Now, with all due respect for the officers of the law, Paul + Jespersen had no desire to meet them at the present moment. To be hauled + up at the station-house and fined for street disorder—nay, perhaps + be locked up for the night, if, as was more than likely, the captain of + police was at the masquerade, was not at all to Paul’s taste. Anything + rather than that! He would be the laughing stock of the whole town if, + after his elaborate efforts, he were to pass the night in a cell, instead + of dancing with Miss Clara Broby. + </p> + <p> + Hearing the cry for police repeated, Paul looked about him for some means + of escape. It occurred to him that he had seen a ladder in the hall + leading up to the loft. There he could easily hide himself until the crowd + had dispersed. + </p> + <p> + Without further reflection, he rushed out through the door by which he had + entered, climbed the ladder, thrust open a trap-door, and, to his + astonishment, found himself under the wintry sky. + </p> + <p> + The roof sloped steeply, and he had to balance carefully in order to avoid + sliding down into the midst of the noisy mob of dogs and street-boys who + were laying siege to the door. + </p> + <p> + With the utmost caution he crawled along the roof-tree, trembling lest he + should be discovered by some lynx-eyed villain in the throng of his + pursuers. Happily, the broad brick chimney afforded him some shelter, of + which he was quick to take advantage. Rolling himself up into the smallest + possible compass, he sat for a long time crouching behind the chimney; + while the police were rummaging under the beds and in the closets of the + house, in the hope of finding him. + </p> + <p> + He had, of course, carefully closed the trap-door by which he had reached + the comparative safety of his present position; and he could not help + chuckling to himself at the thought of having outwitted the officers of + the law. + </p> + <p> + The crowd outside, after having made night hideous by their whoops and + yells, began, at the end of an hour, to grow weary; and the dogs being + denied entrance to the house, concluded that they had no further business + there, and slunk off to their respective kennels. + </p> + <p> + The people, too, scattered, and only a few patient loiterers hung about + the street door, hoping for fresh developments. It seemed useless to Paul + to wait until these provoking fellows should take themselves away. They + were obviously prepared to make a night of it, and time was no object to + them. + </p> + <p> + It was then that Paul, in his despair, resolved upon a daring stratagem. + Mr. Broby’s house was in the same block as that of the Misses Hansen, only + it was at the other end of the block. By creeping along the roof-trees of + the houses, which, happily, differed but slightly in height, he could + reach the Broby house, where, no doubt, Miss Clara was now waiting for + him, full of impatience. + </p> + <p> + He did not deliberate long before testing the practicability of this plan. + The tanner Thoresen’s house was reached without accident, although he + barely escaped being detected by a small boy who was amusing himself + throwing snow-balls at the chimney. It was a slow and wearisome mode of + locomotion—pushing himself forward on his belly; but, as long as the + streets were deserted, it was a pretty safe one. + </p> + <p> + He gave a start whenever he heard a dog bark; for the echoes of the + ear-splitting concert they had given him were yet ringing in his brain. + </p> + <p> + It was no joke being a bear, he thought, and if he had suspected that it + was such a serious business, he would not so rashly have undertaken it. + But now there was no way of getting out of it; for he had nothing on but + his underclothes under the bear-skin. + </p> + <p> + At last he reached the Broby house, and drew a sigh of relief at the + thought that he was now at the end of his journey. + </p> + <p> + He looked about him for a trap-door by which he could descend into the + interior, but could find none. There was an inch of snow on the roof, + glazed with frost: and if there was a trap-door, it was securely hidden. + </p> + <p> + To jump or slide down was out of the question, for he would, in that case, + risk breaking his neck. If he cried for help, the groom, who was always + ready with his gun, might take a fancy to shoot at him; and that would be + still more unpleasant. It was a most embarrassing situation. + </p> + <p> + Paul’s eyes fell upon a chimney; and the thought flashed through his head + that there was the solution of the difficulty. He observed that no smoke + was coming out of it, so that he would run no risk of being converted into + smoked ham during the descent. + </p> + <p> + He looked down through the long, black tunnel. It was a great, spacious, + old-fashioned chimney, and abundantly wide enough for his purpose. + </p> + <p> + A pleasant sound of laughter and merry voices came to him from the kitchen + below. It was evident the girls were having a frolic. So, without further + ado, Paul Jespersen stuffed his great hairy bulk into the chimney and + proceeded to let himself down. + </p> + <p> + There were notches and iron rings in the brick wall, evidently put there + for the convenience of the chimney-sweeps; and he found his task easier + than he had anticipated. The soot, to be sure, blinded his eyes, but where + there was nothing to be seen, that was no serious disadvantage. + </p> + <p> + In fact, everything was going as smoothly as possible, when suddenly he + heard a girl’s voice cry out: + </p> + <p> + “Gracious goodness! what is that in the chimney?” + </p> + <p> + “Probably the chimney-sweep,” a man’s voice answered. + </p> + <p> + “Chimney-sweep at this time of night!” + </p> + <p> + Paul, bracing himself against the walls, looked down and saw a cluster of + anxious faces all gazing up toward him. A candle which one of the girls + held in her hand showed him that the distance down to the hearth was but + short; so, to make an end of their uncertainty, he dropped himself down—quietly, + as he thought, but by the force of his fall blowing the ashes about in all + directions. + </p> + <p> + A chorus of terrified screams greeted him. One girl fainted, one leaped up + on a table, and the rest made for the door. + </p> + <p> + And there sat poor Paul, in the ashes on the hearth, utterly bewildered by + the consternation he had occasioned. He picked himself up by and by, + rubbed the soot out of his eyes with the backs of his paws, and crawled + out upon the floor. + </p> + <p> + He had just managed to raise himself upon his hind-legs, when an awful + apparition became visible in the door, holding a candle. It was now Paul’s + turn to be frightened. The person who stood before him bore a close + resemblance to the devil. + </p> + <p> + “What is all this racket about?” he cried, in a tone of authority. + </p> + <p> + Paul felt instantly relieved, for the voice was that of his revered chief, + Mr. Broby, who, he now recollected, was to figure at the masquerade as + Mephistopheles. Behind him peeped forth the faces of his two daughters, + one as Morning and the other as Spring. + </p> + <p> + “May I ask what is the cause of this unseemly noise?” repeated Mr. Broby, + advancing to the middle of the room. The light of his candle now fell upon + the huge bear whom, after a slight start, he recognized as a masker. + </p> + <p> + “Excuse me, Mr. Broby,” said Paul, “but Miss Clara did me the honor——” + </p> + <p> + “Oh yes, papa,” Miss Clara interrupted him, stepping forth in all her + glory of tulle and flowers; “it is Paul Jespersen, who was going to be my + Beast.” + </p> + <p> + “And it is you who have frightened my servants half out of their wits, + Jespersen?” said Mr. Broby, laughing. + </p> + <p> + “He tumbled down through the chimney, sir,” declared the cook, who had + half-recovered from her fright. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Mr. Broby, with another laugh, “I admit that was a trifle + unconventional. Next time you call, Jespersen, you must come through the + door.” + </p> + <p> + He thought Jespersen had chosen to play a practical joke on the servants, + and, though he did not exactly like it, he was in no mood for scolding. + After having been carefully brushed and rolled in the snow, Paul offered + his escort to Miss Clara; and she had not the heart to tell him that she + was not at all Beauty, but Spring. And Paul was not enough of an expert to + know the difference. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + LADY CLARE THE STORY OF A HORSE + </h2> + <p> + The king was dead, and among the many things he left behind him which his + successor had no use for were a lot of fancy horses. There were + long-barrelled English hunters, all legs and neck; there were Kentucky + racers, graceful, swift, and strong; and two Arabian steeds, which had + been presented to his late majesty by the Sultan of Turkey. To see the + beautiful beasts prancing and plunging, as they were being led through the + streets by grooms in the royal livery, was enough to make the blood dance + in the veins of any lover of horse-flesh. And to think that they were + being led ignominiously to the auction mart to be sold under the hammer—knocked + down to the highest bidder! It was a sin and a shame surely! And they + seemed to feel it themselves; and that was the reason they acted so + obstreperously, sometimes lifting the grooms off their feet as they reared + and snorted and struck sparks with their steel-shod hoofs from the stone + pavement. + </p> + <p> + Among the crowd of schoolboys who followed the equine procession, + shrieking and yelling with glee and exciting the horses by their wanton + screams, was a handsome lad of fourteen, named Erik Carstens. He had fixed + his eyes admiringly on a coal-black, four-year-old mare, a mere colt, + which brought up the rear of the procession. How exquisitely she was + fashioned! How she danced over the ground with a light mazurka step, as if + she were shod with gutta-percha and not with iron! And then she had a head + so daintily shaped, small and spirited, that it was a joy to look at her. + Erik, who, in spite of his youth, was not a bad judge of a horse, felt his + heart beat like a trip-hammer, and a mighty yearning took possession of + him to become the owner of that mare. + </p> + <p> + Though he knew it was time for dinner he could not tear himself away, but + followed the procession up one street and down another, until it stopped + at the horse market. There a lot of jockeys and coarse-looking dealers + were on hand; and an opportunity was afforded them to try the horses + before the auction began. They forced open the mouths of the beautiful + animals, examined their teeth, prodded them with whips to see if they were + gentle, and poked them with their fingers or canes. But when a loutish + fellow, in a brown corduroy suit, indulged in that kind of behavior toward + the black mare she gave a resentful whinny and without further ado grabbed + him with her teeth by the coat collar, lifted him up and shook him as if + he had been a bag of straw. Then she dropped him in the mud, and raised + her dainty head with an air as if to say that she held him to be beneath + contempt. The fellow, however, was not inclined to put up with that kind + of treatment. With a volley of oaths he sprang up and would have struck + the mare in the mouth with his clinched fist, if Erik had not darted + forward and warded off the blow. + </p> + <p> + “How dare you strike that beautiful creature?” he cried, indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Hold your jaw, you gosling, or I’ll hit you instead,” retorted the man. + </p> + <p> + But by that time one of the royal grooms had made his appearance and the + brute did not dare carry out his threat. While the groom strove to quiet + the mare, a great tumult arose in some other part of the market-place. + There was a whinnying, plunging, rearing, and screaming, as if the whole + field had gone mad. The black mare joined in the concert, and stood with + her ears pricked up and her head raised in an attitude of panicky + expectation. Quite fearlessly Erik walked up to her, patted her on the + neck and spoke soothingly to her. + </p> + <p> + “Look out,” yelled the groom, “or she’ll trample you to jelly!” + </p> + <p> + But instead of that, the mare rubbed her soft nose against the boy’s + cheek, with a low, friendly neighing, as if she wished to thank him for + his gallant conduct. And at that moment Erik’s heart went out to that dumb + creature with an affection which he had never felt toward any living thing + before. He determined, whatever might happen, to bid on her and to buy + her, whatever she might prove to be worth. He knew he had a few thousand + dollars in the bank—his inheritance from his mother, who had died + when he was a baby—and he might, perhaps, be able to persuade his + father to sanction the purchase. At any rate, he would have some time to + invent ways and means; for his father, Captain Carstens, was now away on + the great annual drill, and would not return for some weeks. + </p> + <p> + As a mere matter of form, he resolved to try the mare before bidding on + her; and slipping a coin into the groom’s hand he asked for a saddle. It + turned out, however, that all the saddles were in use, and Erik had no + choice but to mount bareback. + </p> + <p> + “Ride her on the snaffle. She won’t stand the curb,” shouted the groom, as + the mare, after plunging to the right and to the left, darted through the + gate to the track, and, after kicking up a vast deal of tan-bark, sped + like a bullet down the race-course. + </p> + <p> + “Good gracious, how recklessly that boy rides!” one jockey observed to + another; “but he has got a good grip with his knees all the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he sits like a daisy,” the second replied, critically; “but mind my + word, Lady Clare will throw him yet. She never could stand anybody but the + princess on her back: and that was the reason her Royal Highness was so + fond of her. Mother of Moses, won’t there be a grand rumpus when she comes + back again and finds Lady Clare gone! I should not like to be in the shoes + of the man who has ordered Lady Clare under the hammer.” + </p> + <p> + “But look at the lad! I told you Lady Clare wouldn’t stand no manner of + nonsense from boys.” + </p> + <p> + “She is kicking like a Trojan! She’ll make hash of him if he loses his + seat.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but he sticks like a burr. That’s a jewel of a lad, I tell ye. He + ought to have been a jockey.” + </p> + <p> + Up the track came Lady Clare, black as the ace of spades, acting like the + Old Harry. Something had displeased her, obviously, and she held Erik + responsible for it. Possibly she had just waked up to the fact that she, + who had been the pet of a princess, was now being ridden by an ordinary + commoner. At all events, she had made up her mind to get rid of the + commoner without further ceremony. Putting her fine ears back and dilating + her nostrils, she suddenly gave a snort and a whisk with her tail, and up + went her heels toward the eternal stars—that is, if there had been + any stars visible just then. Everybody’s heart stuck in his throat; for + fleet-footed racers were speeding round and round, and the fellow who got + thrown in the midst of all these trampling hoofs would have small chance + of looking upon the sun again. People instinctively tossed their heads up + to see how high he would go before coming down again; but, for a wonder, + they saw nothing, except a cloud of dust mixed with tan-bark, and when + that had cleared away they discovered the black mare and her rider, + apparently on the best of terms, dashing up the track at a breakneck pace. + </p> + <p> + Erik was dripping with perspiration when he dismounted, and Lady Clare’s + glossy coat was flecked with foam. She was not aware, apparently, that if + she had any reputation to ruin she had damaged it most effectually. Her + behavior on the track and her treatment of the horse-dealer were by this + time common property, and every dealer and fancier made a mental note that + Lady Clare was the number in the catalogue which he would not bid on. All + her beauty and her distinguished ancestry counted for nothing, as long as + she had so uncertain a temper. Her sire, Potiphar, it appeared, had also + been subject to the same infirmities of temper, and there was a strain of + savagery in her blood which might crop out when you least expected it. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, when a dozen fine horses had been knocked down at good + prices, and Lady Clare’s turn came, no one came forward to inspect her, + and no one could be found to make a bid. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, gentlemen,” cried the auctioneer, “here we have a beautiful + thoroughbred mare, the favorite mount of Her Royal Highness the Princess, + and not a bid do I hear. She’s a beauty, gentlemen, sired by the famous + Potiphar who won the Epsom Handicap and no end of minor stakes. Take a + look at her, gentlemen! Did you ever see a horse before that was raven + black from nose to tail? I reckon you never did. But such a horse is Lady + Clare. The man who can find a single white hair on her can have her for a + gift. Come forward, gentlemen, come forward. Who will start her—say + at five hundred?” + </p> + <p> + A derisive laugh ran through the crowd, and a voice was heard to cry, + “Fifty.” + </p> + <p> + “Fifty!” repeated the auctioneer, in a deeply grieved and injured tone; + “fifty did you say, sir? Fifty? Did I hear rightly? I hope, for the sake + of the honor of this fair city, that my ears deceived me.” + </p> + <p> + Here came a long and impressive pause, during which the auctioneer, + suddenly abandoning his dramatic manner, chatted familiarly with a + gentleman who stood near him. The only one in the crowd whom he had + impressed with the fact that the honor of the city was at stake in this + sale was Erik Carstens. He had happily discovered a young and rich + lieutenant of his father’s company, and was trying to persuade him to bid + in the mare for him. + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear boy,” Lieutenant Thicker exclaimed, “what do you suppose the + captain will say to me if I aid and abet his son in defying the paternal + authority?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, you needn’t bother about that,” Erik rejoined eagerly. “If father was + at home, I believe he would allow me to buy this mare. But I am a minor + yet, and the auctioneer would not accept my bid. Therefore I thought you + might be kind enough to bid for me.” + </p> + <p> + The lieutenant made no answer, but looked at the earnest face of the boy + with unmistakable sympathy. The auctioneer assumed again an insulted, + affronted, pathetically entreating or scornfully repelling tone, according + as it suited his purpose; and the price of Lady Clare crawled slowly and + reluctantly up from fifty to seventy dollars. There it stopped, and + neither the auctioneer’s tears nor his prayers could apparently coax it + higher. + </p> + <p> + “Seventy dollars!” he cried, as if he were really too shocked to speak at + all; “seven-ty dollars! Make it eighty! Oh, it is a sin and a shame, + gentlemen, and the fair fame of this beautiful city is eternally ruined. + It will become a wagging of the head and a byword among the nations. + Sev-en-ty dollars!”—then hotly and indignantly—“seventy + dollars!—fifth and last time, seventy dollars!”—here he raised + his hammer threateningly—“seventy dollars!” + </p> + <p> + “One hundred!” cried a high boyish voice, and in an instant every neck was + craned and every eye was turned toward the corner where Erik Carstens was + standing, half hidden behind the broad figure of Lieutenant Thicker. + </p> + <p> + “Did I hear a hundred?” repeated the auctioneer, wonderingly. “May I ask + who was the gentleman who said a hundred?” + </p> + <p> + An embarrassing silence followed. Erik knew that if he acknowledged the + bid he would suffer the shame of having it refused. But his excitement and + his solicitude for the fair fame of his native city had carried him away + so completely that the words had escaped from his lips before he was fully + aware of their import. + </p> + <p> + “May I ask,” repeated the wielder of the hammer, slowly and emphatically, + “may I ask the gentleman who offered one hundred dollars for Lady Clare to + come forward and give his name?” + </p> + <p> + He now looked straight at Erik, who blushed to the edge of his hair, but + did not stir from the spot. From sheer embarrassment he clutched the + lieutenant’s arm, and almost pinched it. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I beg your pardon,” the officer exclaimed, addressing the auctioneer, + as if he had suddenly been aroused from a fit of abstraction; “I made the + bid of one hundred dollars, or—or—at any rate, I make it now.” + </p> + <p> + The same performance, intended to force up the price, was repeated once + more, but with no avail, and at the end of two minutes Lady Clare was + knocked down to Lieutenant Thicker. + </p> + <p> + “Now I have gone and done it like the blooming idiot that I am,” observed + the lieutenant, when Lady Clare was led into his stable by a liveried + groom. “What an overhauling the captain will give me when he gets home.” + </p> + <p> + “You need have no fear,” Erik replied. “I’ll sound father as soon as he + gets home; and if he makes any trouble I’ll pay you that one hundred + dollars, with interest, the day I come of age.” + </p> + <p> + Well, the captain came home, and having long had the intention to present + his son with a saddle-horse, he allowed himself to be cajoled into + approving of the bargain. The mare was an exquisite creature, if ever + there was one, and he could well understand how Erik had been carried + away; Lieutenant Thicker, instead of being hauled over the coals, as he + had expected, received thanks for his kind and generous conduct toward the + son of his superior officer. As for Erik himself, he had never had any + idea that a boy’s life could be so glorious as his was now. Mounted on + that splendid, coal-black mare, he rode through the city and far out into + the country at his father’s side; and never did it seem to him that he had + loved his father so well as he did during these afternoon rides. The + captain was far from suspecting that in that episode of the purchase of + Lady Clare his own relation to his son had been at stake. Not that Erik + would not have obeyed his father, even if he had turned out his rough side + and taken the lieutenant to task for his kindness; but their relation + would in that case have lacked the warm intimacy (which in nowise excludes + obedience and respect) and that last touch of devoted admiration which now + bound them together. + </p> + <p> + That fine touch of sympathy in the captain’s disposition which had enabled + him to smile indulgently at his son’s enthusiasm for the horse made the + son doubly anxious not to abuse such kindness, and to do everything in his + power to deserve the confidence which made his life so rich and happy. + Though, as I have said, Captain Carstens lacked the acuteness to discover + how much he owed to Lady Clare, he acknowledged himself in quite a + different way her debtor. He had never really been aware what a splendid + specimen of a boy his son was until he saw him on the back of that + spirited mare, which cut up with him like the Old Harry, and yet never + succeeded in flurrying, far less in unseating him. The captain felt a glow + of affection warming his breast at the sight of this, and his pride in + Erik’s horsemanship proved a consolation to him when the boy’s less + distinguished performances at school caused him fret and worry. + </p> + <p> + “A boy so full of pluck must amount to something, even if he does not take + kindly to Latin,” he reflected many a time. “I am afraid I have made a + mistake in having him prepared for college. In the army now, and + particularly in the cavalry, he would make a reputation in twenty + minutes.” + </p> + <p> + And a cavalryman Erik might, perhaps, have become if his father had not + been transferred to another post, and compelled to take up his residence + in the country. It was nominally a promotion, but Captain Carstens was ill + pleased with it, and even had some thought of resigning rather than give + up his delightful city life, and move far northward into the region of cod + and herring. However, he was too young a man to retire on a pension, as + yet, and so he gradually reconciled himself to the thought, and sailed + northward in the month of April with his son and his entire household. It + had long been a question whether Lady Clare should make the journey with + them; for Captain Carstens maintained that so high-bred an animal would be + very sensitive to climatic changes and might even die on the way. Again, + he argued that it was an absurdity to bring so fine a horse into a rough + country, where the roads are poor and where nature, in mercy, provides all + beasts with rough, shaggy coats to protect them from the cold. How would + Lady Clare, with her glossy satin coat, her slender legs that pirouetted + so daintily over the ground, and her exquisite head, which she carried so + proudly—how would she look and what kind of figure would she cut + among the shaggy, stunted, sedate-looking nags of the Sognefiord district? + But the captain, though what he said was irrefutable, had to suspend all + argument when he saw how utterly wretched Erik became at the mere thought + of losing Lady Clare. So he took his chances; and, after having ordered + blankets of three different thicknesses for three different kinds of + weather, shipped the mare with the rest of his family for his new northern + home. + </p> + <p> + As the weather proved unusually mild during the northward voyage Lady + Clare arrived in Sogn without accident or adventure. And never in all her + life had she looked more beautiful than she did when she came off the + steamer, and half the population of the valley turned out to see her. It + is no use denying that she was as vain as any other professional beauty, + and the way she danced and pirouetted on the gangplank, when Erik led her + on to the pier, filled the rustics with amazement. They had come to look + at the new captain and his family; but when Lady Clare appeared she + eclipsed the rest of the company so completely that no one had eyes for + anybody but her. As the sun was shining and the wind was mild, Erik had + taken off her striped overcoat (which covered her from nose to tail), for + he felt in every fibre of his body the sensation she was making, and + blushed with pleasure as if the admiring exclamations had been intended + for himself. + </p> + <p> + “Look at that horse,” cried young and old, with eyes as big as saucers, + pointing with their fingers at Lady Clare. + </p> + <p> + “Handsome carcass that mare has,” remarked a stoutish man, who knew what + he was talking about; “and head and legs to match.” + </p> + <p> + “She beats your Valders-Roan all hollow, John Garvestad,” said a young + tease who stood next to him in the crowd. + </p> + <p> + “My Valders-Roan has never seen his match yet, and never will, according + to my reckoning,” answered John Garvestad. + </p> + <p> + “Ho! ho!” shouted the young fellow, with a mocking laugh; “that black mare + is a hand taller at the very least, and I bet you she’s a high-flyer. She + has got the prettiest legs I ever clapped eyes on.” + </p> + <p> + “They’d snap like clay pipes in the mountains,” replied Garvestad, + contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + Erik, as he blushingly ascended the slope to his new home, leading Lady + Clare by a halter, had no suspicion of the sentiments which she had + aroused in John Garvestad’s breast. He was only blissfully conscious of + the admiration she had excited; and he promised himself a good deal of fun + in future in showing off his horsemanship. He took Lady Clare to the + stable, where a new box-stall had been made for her, examined the premises + carefully and nailed a board over a crevice in the wall where he suspected + a draught. He instructed Anders, the groom, with emphatic and anxious + repetitions regarding her care, showed him how to make Lady Clare’s bed, + how to comb her mane, how to brush her (for she refused to endure + currying), how to blanket her, and how to read the thermometer which he + nailed to one of the posts of the stall. The latter proved to be a more + difficult task than he had anticipated; and the worst of it was that he + was not sure that Anders knew any more on the subject of his instruction + at the end of the lesson than he had at the beginning. To make sure that + he had understood him he asked him to enter the stall and begin the + process of grooming. But no sooner had the unhappy fellow put his nose + inside the door than Lady Clare laid back her ears in a very ugly fashion, + and with a vicious whisk of her tail waltzed around and planted two + hoof-marks in the door, just where the groom’s nose had that very instant + vanished. A second and a third trial had similar results; and as the + box-stall was new and of hard wood, Erik had no wish to see it further + damaged. + </p> + <p> + “I won’t have nothin’ to do with that hoss, that’s as certain as my name + is Anders,” the groom declared; and Erik, knowing that persuasion would be + useless, had henceforth to be his own groom. The fact was he could not + help sympathizing with that fastidiousness of Lady Clare which made her + object to be handled by coarse fingers and roughly curried, combed, and + washed like a common plebeian nag. One does not commence life associating + with a princess for nothing. Lady Clare, feeling in every nerve her high + descent and breeding, had perhaps a sense of having come down in the + world, and, like many another irrational creature of her sex, she kicked + madly against fate and exhibited the unloveliest side of her character. + But with all her skittishness and caprice she was steadfast in one thing, + and that was her love for Erik. As the days went by in country monotony, + he began to feel it as a privilege rather than a burden to have the + exclusive care of her. The low, friendly neighing with which she always + greeted him, as soon as he opened the stable-door, was as intelligible and + dear to him as the warm welcome of a friend. And when with dainty + alertness she lifted her small, beautiful head, over which the fine + net-work of veins meandered, above the top of the stall, and rubbed her + nose caressingly against his cheek, before beginning to snuff at his + various pockets for the accustomed lump of sugar, he felt a glow of + affection spread from his heart and pervade his whole being. Yes, he loved + this beautiful animal with a devotion which, a year ago, he would scarcely + have thought it possible to bestow upon a horse. No one could have + persuaded him that Lady Clare had not a soul which (whether it was + immortal or not) was, at all events, as distinct and clearly defined as + that of any person with whom he was acquainted. She was to him a + personality—a dear, charming friend, with certain defects of + character (as who has not?) which were, however, more than compensated for + by her devotion to him. She was fastidious, quick-tempered, utterly + unreasonable where her feelings were involved; full of aristocratic + prejudice, which only her sex could excuse; and whimsical, proud, and + capricious. It was absurd, of course, to contend that these qualities were + in themselves admirable; but, on the other hand, few of us would not + consent to overlook them in a friend who loved us as well as Lady Clare + loved Erik. + </p> + <p> + The fame of Lady Clare spread through the parish like fire in withered + grass. People came from afar to look at her, and departed full of wonder + at her beauty. When the captain and his son rode together to church on + Sunday morning, men, women, and children stood in rows at the roadside + staring at the wonderful mare as if she had been a dromedary or a + rhinoceros. And when she was tied in the clergyman’s stable a large number + of the men ignored the admonition of the church bells and missed the + sermon, being unable to tear themselves away from Lady Clare’s charms. But + woe to him who attempted to take liberties with her; there were two or + three horsy young men who had narrow escapes from bearing the imprint of + her iron shoes for the rest of their days. + </p> + <p> + That taught the others a lesson, and now Lady Clare suffered from no + annoying familiarities, but was admired at a respectful distance, until + the pastor, vexed at her rivalry with his sermon, issued orders to have + the stable-door locked during service. + </p> + <p> + There was one person besides the pastor who was ill pleased at the + reputation Lady Clare was making. That was John Garvestad, the owner of + Valders-Roan. John was the richest man in the parish, and always made a + point of keeping fine horses. Valders-Roan, a heavily built, powerful + horse, with a tremendous neck and chest and long tassels on his fetlocks, + but rather squat in the legs, had hitherto held undisputed rank as the + finest horse in all Sogn. By the side of Lady Clare he looked as a stout, + good-looking peasant lad with coltish manners might have looked by the + side of the daughter of a hundred earls. + </p> + <p> + But John Garvestad, who was naturally prejudiced in favor of his own + horse, could scarcely be blamed for failing to recognize her superiority. + He knew that formerly, on Sundays, the men were wont to gather with + admiring comment about Valders-Roan; while now they stood craning their + necks, peering through the windows of the parson’s stable, in order to + catch a glimpse of Lady Clare, and all the time Valders-Roan was standing + tied to the fence, in full view of all, utterly neglected. This spectacle + filled him with such ire that he hardly could control himself. His first + impulse was to pick a quarrel with Erik; but a second and far brighter + idea presently struck him. He would buy Lady Clare. Accordingly, when the + captain and his son had mounted their horses and were about to start on + their homeward way, Garvestad, putting Valders-Roan to his trumps, dug his + heels into his sides and rode up with a great flourish in front of the + churchyard gate. + </p> + <p> + “How much will you take for that mare of yours, captain?” he asked, as he + checked his charger with unnecessary vigor close to Lady Clare. + </p> + <p> + “She is not mine to sell,” the captain replied. “Lady Clare belongs to my + son.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what will you take for her, then?” Garvestad repeated, + swaggeringly, turning to Erik. + </p> + <p> + “Not all the gold in the world could buy her,” retorted Erik, warmly. + </p> + <p> + Valders-Roan, unable to resist the charms of Lady Clare, had in the + meanwhile been making some cautious overtures toward an acquaintance. He + arched his mighty neck, rose on his hind legs, while his tremendous + forehoofs were beating the air, and cut up generally—all for Lady + Clare’s benefit. + </p> + <p> + She, however, having regarded his performances for awhile with a mild and + somewhat condescending interest, grew a little tired of them and looked + out over the fiord, as a belle might do, with a suppressed yawn, when her + cavalier fails to entertain her. Valders-Roan, perceiving the slight, now + concluded to make more decided advances. So he put forward his nose until + it nearly touched Lady Clare’s, as if he meant to kiss her. But that was + more than her ladyship was prepared to put up with. Quick as a flash she + flung herself back on her haunches, down went her ears, and hers was the + angriest horse’s head that ever had been seen in that parish. With an + indignant snort she wheeled around, kicking up a cloud of dust by the + suddenness of the manoeuvre. A less skilled rider than Erik would + inevitably have been thrown by two such unforeseen jerks; and the fact was + he had all he could do to keep his seat. + </p> + <p> + “Oho!” shouted Garvestad, “your mare shies; she’ll break your neck some + day, as likely as not. You had better sell her before she gets you into + trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “But I shouldn’t like to have your broken neck on my conscience,” Erik + replied; “if necks are to be broken by Lady Clare I should prefer to have + it be my own.” + </p> + <p> + The peasant was not clever enough to make out whether this was jest or + earnest. With a puzzled frown he stared at the youth and finally broke + out: + </p> + <p> + “Then you won’t sell her at no price? Anyway, the day you change your mind + don’t forget to notify John Garvestad. If it’s spondulix you are after, + then here’s where there’s plenty of ‘em.” + </p> + <p> + He slapped his left breast-pocket with a great swagger, looking around to + observe the impression he was making on his audience; then, jerking the + bridle violently, so as to make his horse rear, he rode off like Alexander + on Bucephalus, and swung down upon the highway. + </p> + <p> + It was but a few weeks after this occurrence that Captain Carstens and his + son were invited to honor John Garvestad by their presence at his wedding. + They were in doubt, at first, as to whether they ought to accept the + invitation; for some unpleasant rumors had reached them, showing that + Garvestad entertained unfriendly feelings toward them. He was an intensely + vain man; and the thought that Erik Carstens had a finer horse than + Valders-Roan left him no peace. He had been heard to say repeatedly that, + if that high-nosed youth persisted in his refusal to sell the mare, he + would discover his mistake when, perhaps, it would be too late to have it + remedied. Whatever that meant, it sufficed to make both Erik and his + father uneasy. But, on the other hand, it would be the worst policy + possible, under such circumstances, to refuse the invitation. For that + would be interpreted either as fear or as aristocratic exclusiveness; and + the captain, while he was new in the district, was as anxious to avoid the + appearance of the one as of the other. Accordingly he accepted the + invitation and on the appointed day rode with his son into the wide yard + of John Garvestad’s farm, stopping at the pump, where they watered their + horses. It was early in the afternoon, and both the house and the barn + were thronged with wedding-guests. From the sitting-room the strains of + two fiddles were heard, mingled with the scraping and stamping of heavy + feet. + </p> + <p> + Another musical performance was in progress in the barn; and all over the + yard elderly men and youths were standing in smaller and larger groups, + smoking their pipes and tasting the beer-jugs, which were passed from hand + to hand. But the moment Lady Clare was seen all interest in minor concerns + ceased, and with one accord the crowd moved toward her, completely + encircling her, and viewing her with admiring glances that appreciated all + her perfections. + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever see cleaner-shaped legs on a horse?” someone was heard to + say, and instantly his neighbor in the crowd joined the chorus of praise, + and added: “What a snap and spring there is in every bend of her knee and + turn of her neck and flash of her eye!” + </p> + <p> + It was while this chorus of admiration was being sung in all keys and + tones of the whole gamut, that the bridegroom came out of the house, a + little bit tipsy, perhaps, from the many toasts he had been obliged to + drink, and bristling with pugnacity to the ends of his fingers and the + tips of his hair. Every word of praise that he heard sounded in his ears + like a jeer and an insult to himself. With ruthless thrusts he elbowed his + way through the throng of guests and soon stood in front of the two + horses, from which the captain and Erik had not yet had a chance to + dismount. He returned their greeting with scant courtesy and plunged + instantly into the matter which he had on his mind. + </p> + <p> + “I reckon you have thought better of my offer by this time,” he said, with + a surly swagger, to Erik. “What do you hold your mare at to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “I thought we had settled that matter once for all,” the boy replied, + quietly. “I have no more intention of selling Lady Clare now than I ever + had.” + </p> + <p> + “Then will ye trade her off for Valders-Roan?” ejaculated Garvestad, + eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “No, I won’t trade her for Valders-Roan or any other horse in creation.” + </p> + <p> + “Don’t be cantankerous, now, young fellow, or you might repent of it.” + </p> + <p> + “I am not cantankerous. But I beg of you kindly to drop this matter. I + came here, at your invitation, as a guest at your wedding, not for the + purpose of trading horses.” + </p> + <p> + It was an incautious speech, and was interpreted by everyone present as a + rebuke to the bridegroom for his violation of the rules of hospitality. + The captain, anxious to avoid a row, therefore broke in, in a voice of + friendly remonstrance: “My dear Mr. Garvestad, do let us drop this matter. + If you will permit us, we should like to dismount and drink a toast to + your health, wishing you a long life and much happiness.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes, I understand your smooth palaver,” the bridegroom growled + between his teeth. “I have stood your insolence long enough, and, by + jingo, I won’t stand it much longer. What will ye take for your mare, I + say, or how much do you want to boot, if you trade her for Valders-Roan?” + </p> + <p> + He shouted the last words with furious emphasis, holding his clinched fist + up toward Erik, and glaring at him savagely. + </p> + <p> + But now Lady Clare, who became frightened perhaps by the loud talk and + violent gestures, began to rear and plunge, and by an unforeseen motion + knocked against the bridegroom, so that he fell backward into the + horse-trough under the pump, which was full of water. The wedding-guests + had hardly time to realize what was happening when a great splash sent the + water flying into their faces, and the burly form of John Garvestad was + seen sprawling helplessly in the horse-trough. But then—then they + realized it with a vengeance. And a laugh went up—a veritable storm + of laughter—which swept through the entire crowd and re-echoed with + a ghostly hilarity from the mountains. John Garvestad in the meanwhile had + managed to pick himself out of the horse-trough, and while he stood + snorting, spitting, and dripping, Captain Carstens and his son politely + lifted their hats to him and rode away. But as they trotted out of the + gate they saw their host stretch a big clinched fist toward them, and + heard him scream with hoarse fury: “I’ll make ye smart for that some day, + so help me God!” + </p> + <p> + Lady Clare was not sent to the mountains in the summer, as are nearly all + horses in the Norwegian country districts. She was left untethered in an + enclosed home pasture about half a mile from the mansion. Here she grazed, + rolled, kicked up her heels, and gambolled to her heart’s content. During + the long, bright summer nights, when the sun scarcely dips beneath the + horizon and reappears in an hour, clothed in the breezy garments of + morning, she was permitted to frolic, race, and play all sorts of + improvised games with a shaggy, little, plebeian three-year-old colt whom + she had condescended to honor with her acquaintance. This colt must have + had some fine feeling under his rough coat, for he never presumed in the + least upon the acquaintance, being perhaps aware of the honor it conferred + upon him. He allowed himself to be abused, ignored, or petted, as it might + suit the pleasure of her royal highness, with a patient, even-tempered + good-nature which was admirable. When Lady Clare (perhaps for fear of + making him conceited) took no notice of him, he showed neither resentment + nor surprise, but walked off with a sheepish shake of his head. Thus he + slowly learned the lesson to make no exhibition of feeling at the sight of + his superior; not to run up and greet her with a disrespectfully joyous + whinny; but calmly wait for her to recognize him before appearing to be + aware of her presence. It took Lady Clare several months to accustom Shag + (for that was the colt’s name) to her ways. She taught him unconsciously + the rudiments of good manners; but he proved himself docile, and when he + once had been reduced to his proper place he proved a fairly acceptable + companion. + </p> + <p> + During the first and second week after John Garvestad’s wedding Erik had + kept Lady Clare stabled, having a vague fear that the angry peasant might + intend to do her harm. But she whinnied so pitifully through the long + light nights that finally he allowed his compassion to get the better of + his anxiety, and once more she was seen racing madly about the field with + Shag, whom she always beat so ignominiously that she felt half sorry for + him, and as a consolation allowed him gently to claw her mane with his + teeth. This was a privilege which Shag could not fail to appreciate, + though she never offered to return the favor by clawing him. At any rate, + as soon as Lady Clare reappeared in the meadow Shag’s cup of bliss seemed + to be full. + </p> + <p> + A week passed in this way, nothing happened, and Erik’s vigilance was + relaxed. He went to bed on the evening of July 10th with an easy mind, + without the remotest apprehension of danger. The sun set about ten + o’clock, and Lady Clare and Shag greeted its last departing rays with a + whinny, accompanied by a wanton kickup from the rear—for whatever + Lady Clare did Shag felt in honor bound to do, and was conscious of no + disgrace in his abject and ape-like imitation. They had spent an hour, + perhaps, in such delightful performances, when all of a sudden they were + startled by a deep bass whinny, which rumbled and shook like distant + thunder. Then came the tramp, tramp, tramp of heavy hoof-beats, which made + the ground tremble. Lady Clare lifted her beautiful head and looked with + fearless curiosity in the direction whence the sound came. Shag, of + course, did as nearly as he could exactly the same. What they saw was a + big roan horse with an enormous arched neck, squat feet, and + long-tasselled fetlocks. + </p> + <p> + Lady Clare had no difficulty in recognizing Valders-Roan. But how big and + heavy and ominous he looked in the blood-red after-glow of the blood-red + sunset. For the first time in her life Lady Clare felt a cold shiver of + fear run through her. There was, happily, a fence between them, and she + devoutly hoped that Valders-Roan was not a jumper. At that moment, + however, two men appeared next to the huge horse, and Lady Clare heard the + sound of breaking fence-rails. The deep hoarse whinny once more made the + air shake, and it made poor Lady Clare shake too, for now she saw + Valders-Roan come like a whirlwind over the field, and so powerful were + his hoof-beats that a clod of earth which had stuck to one of his shoes + shot like a bullet through the air. + </p> + <p> + He looked so gigantic, so brimming with restrained strength, and somehow + Lady Clare, as she stood quaking at the sight of him, had never seemed to + herself so dainty, frail, and delicate as she seemed in this moment. She + felt herself so entirely at his mercy; she was no match for him surely. + Shag, anxious as ever to take his cue from her, had stationed himself at + her side, and shook his head and whisked his tail in a non-committal + manner. Now Valders-Roan had cleared the fence where the men had broken it + down; then on he came again, tramp, tramp, tramp, until he was within half + a dozen paces from Lady Clare. There he stopped, for back went Lady + Clare’s pretty ears, while she threw herself upon her haunches in an + attitude of defence. She was dimly aware that this was a foolish thing to + do, but her inbred disdain and horror of everything rough made her act on + instinct instead of reason. Valders-Roan, irritated by this uncalled-for + action, now threw ceremony to the winds, and without further ado trotted + up and rubbed his nose against hers. That was more than Lady Clare could + stand. With an hysterical snort she flung herself about, and up flew her + heels straight into the offending nose, inflicting considerable damage. + Shag, being now quite clear that the programme was fight, whisked about in + exactly the same manner, with as close an imitation of Lady Clare’s snort + as he could produce, and a second pair of steel-shod heels came within a + hair of reducing the enemy’s left nostril to the same condition as the + right. But alas for the generous folly of youth! Shag had to pay dearly + for that exhibition of devotion. Valders-Roan, enraged by this wanton + insult, made a dash at Shag, and by the mere impetus of his huge bulk + nearly knocked him senseless. The colt rolled over, flung all his four + legs into the air, and as soon as he could recover his footing reeled + sideways like a drunken man and made haste to retire to a safe distance. + </p> + <p> + Valders-Roan had now a clear field and could turn his undivided attention + to Lady Clare. I am not sure that he had not made an example of Shag + merely to frighten her. Bounding forward with his mighty chest expanded + and the blood dripping from his nostrils, he struck out with a tremendous + hind leg and would have returned Lady Clare’s blow with interest if she + had not leaped high into the air. She had just managed by her superior + alertness to dodge that deadly hoof, and was perhaps not prepared for an + instant renewal of the attack. But she had barely gotten her four feet in + contact with the sod when two rows of terrific teeth plunged into her + withers. The pain was frightful, and with a long, pitiful scream Lady + Clare sank down upon the ground, and, writhing with agony, beat the air + with her hoofs. Shag, who had by this time recovered his senses, heard the + noise of the battle, and, plucking up his courage, trotted bravely forward + against the victorious Valders-Roan. He was so frightened that his heart + shot up into his throat. But there lay Lady Clare mangled and bleeding. He + could not leave her in the lurch, so forward he came, trembling, just as + Lady Clare was trying to scramble to her feet. Led away by his sympathy + Shag bent his head down toward her and thereby prevented her from rising. + And in the same instant a stunning blow hit him straight in the forehead, + a shower of sparks danced before his eyes, and then Shag saw and heard no + more. A convulsive quiver ran through his body, then he stretched out his + neck on the bloody grass, heaved a sigh, and died. + </p> + <p> + Lady Clare, seeing Shag killed by the blow which had been intended for + herself, felt her blood run cold. She was strongly inclined to run, for + she could easily beat the heavy Valders-Roan at a race, and her fleet legs + might yet save her. I cannot say whether it was a generous wrath at the + killing of her humble champion or a mere blind fury which overcame this + inclination. But she knew now neither pain nor fear. With a shrill scream + she rushed at Valders-Roan, and for five minutes a whirling cloud of earth + and grass and lumps of sod moved irregularly over the field, and tails, + heads, and legs were seen flung and tossed madly about, while an + occasional shriek of rage or of pain startled the night, and re-echoed + with a weird resonance between the mountains. + </p> + <p> + It was about five o’clock in the morning of July 11th, that Erik awoke, + with a vague sense that something terrible had happened. His groom was + standing at his bedside with a terrified face, doubtful whether to arouse + his young master or allow him to sleep. + </p> + <p> + “What has happened, Anders?” cried Erik, tumbling out of bed. + </p> + <p> + “Lady Clare, sir——” + </p> + <p> + “Lady Clare!” shouted the boy. “What about her? Has she been stolen?” + </p> + <p> + “No, I reckon not,” drawled Anders. + </p> + <p> + “Then she’s dead! Quick, tell me what you know or I shall go crazy!” + </p> + <p> + “No; I can’t say for sure she’s dead either,” the groom stammered, + helplessly. + </p> + <p> + Erik, being too stunned with grief and pain, tumbled in a dazed fashion + about the room, and scarcely knew how he managed to dress. He felt cold, + shivery, and benumbed; and the daylight had a cruel glare in it which hurt + his eyes. Accompanied by his groom, he hastened to the home pasture, and + saw there the evidence of the fierce battle which had raged during the + night. A long, black, serpentine track, where the sod had been torn up by + furious hoof-beats, started from the dead carcass of the faithful Shag and + moved with irregular breaks and curves up toward the gate that connected + the pasture with the underbrush of birch and alder. Here the fence had + been broken down, and the track of the fight suddenly ceased. A pool of + blood had soaked into the ground, showing that one of the horses, and + probably the victor, must have stood still for a while, allowing the + vanquished to escape. + </p> + <p> + Erik had no need of being told that the horse which had attacked Lady + Clare was Valders-Roan; and though he would scarcely have been able to + prove it, he felt positive that John Garvestad had arranged and probably + watched the fight. Having a wholesome dread of jail, he had not dared to + steal Lady Clare; but he had chosen this contemptible method to satisfy + his senseless jealousy. It was all so cunningly devised as to baffle legal + inquiry. Valders-Roan had gotten astray, and being a heavy beast, had + broken into a neighbor’s field and fought with his filly, chasing her away + into the mountains. That was the story he would tell, of course, and as + there had been no witnesses present, there was no way of disproving it. + </p> + <p> + Abandoning, however, for the time being all thought of revenge, Erik + determined to bend all his energies to the recovery of Lady Clare. He felt + confident that she had run away from her assailant, and was now roaming + about in the mountains. He therefore organized a search party of all the + male servants on the estate, besides a couple of volunteers, making in all + nine. On the evening of the first day’s search they put up at a saeter or + mountain chalet. Here they met a young man named Tollef Morud, who had + once been a groom at John Garvestad’s. This man had a bad reputation; and + as the idea occurred to some of them that he might know something about + Lady Clare’s disappearance, they questioned him at great length, without, + however, eliciting a single crumb of information. + </p> + <p> + For a week the search was continued, but had finally to be given up. + Weary, footsore, and heavy hearted, Erik returned home. His grief at the + loss of Lady Clare began to tell on his health; and his perpetual plans + for getting even with John Garvestad amounted almost to a mania, and + caused his father both trouble and anxiety. It was therefore determined to + send him to the military academy in the capital. + </p> + <p> + Four or five years passed and Erik became a lieutenant. It was during the + first year after his graduation from the military academy that he was + invited to spend the Christmas holidays with a friend, whose parents lived + on a fine estate about twenty miles from the city. Seated in their narrow + sleighs, which were drawn by brisk horses, they drove merrily along, + shouting to each other to make their voices heard above the jingling of + the bells. About eight o’clock in the evening, when the moon was shining + brightly and the snow sparkling, they turned in at a wayside tavern to + order their supper. Here a great crowd of lumbermen had congregated, and + all along the fences their overworked, half-broken-down horses stood, + shaking their nose-bags. The air in the public room was so filled with the + fumes of damp clothes and bad tobacco that Erik and his friend, while + waiting for their meal, preferred to spend the time under the radiant sky. + They were sauntering about, talking in a desultory fashion, when all of a + sudden a wild, joyous whinny rang out upon the startled air. + </p> + <p> + It came from a rusty, black, decrepit-looking mare hitched to a lumber + sleigh which they had just passed. Erik, growing very serious, paused + abruptly. + </p> + <p> + A second whinny, lower than the first, but almost alluring and cajoling, + was so directly addressed to Erik that he could not help stepping up to + the mare and patting her on the nose. + </p> + <p> + “You once had a horse you cared a great deal for, didn’t you?” his friend + remarked, casually. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, don’t speak about it,” answered Erik, in a voice that shook with + emotion; “I loved Lady Clare as I never loved any creature in this world—except + my father, of course,” he added, reflectively. + </p> + <p> + But what was the matter with the old lumber nag? At the sound of the name + Lady Clare she pricked up her ears, and lifted her head with a pathetic + attempt at alertness. With a low, insinuating neighing she rubbed her nose + against the lieutenant’s cheek. He had let his hand glide over her long, + thin neck, when quite suddenly his fingers slid into a deep scar in the + withers. + </p> + <p> + “My God!” he cried, while the tears started to his eyes, “am I awake, or + am I dreaming?” + </p> + <p> + “What in the world is the matter?” inquired his comrade, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + “It is Lady Clare! By the heavens, it is Lady Clare!” + </p> + <p> + “That old ramshackle of a lumber nag whose every rib you can count through + her skin is your beautiful thoroughbred?” ejaculated his friend, + incredulously. “Come now, don’t be a goose.” + </p> + <p> + “I’ll tell you of it some other time,” said Erik, quietly; “but there’s + not a shadow of a doubt that this is Lady Clare.” + </p> + <p> + Yes, strange as it may seem, it was indeed Lady Clare. But oh, who would + have recognized in this skeleton, covered with a rusty-black skin and + tousled mane and forelock in which chaff and dirt were entangled—who + would have recognized in this drooping and rickety creature the proud, the + dainty, the exquisite Lady Clare? Her beautiful tail, which had once been + her pride, was now a mere scanty wisp; and a sharp, gnarled ridge running + along the entire length of her back showed every vertebra of her spine + through the notched and scarred skin. Poor Lady Clare, she had seen hard + usage. But now the days of her tribulations are at an end. It did not take + Erik long to find the half-tipsy lumberman who was Lady Clare’s owner; nor + to agree with him on the price for which he was willing to part with her. + </p> + <p> + There is but little more to relate. By interviews and correspondence with + the different parties through whose hands the mare had passed, Erik + succeeded in tracing her to Tollef Morud, the ex-groom of John Garvestad. + On being promised immunity from prosecution, he was induced to confess + that he had been hired by his former master to arrange the nocturnal fight + between Lady Clare and Valders-Roan, and had been paid ten dollars for + stealing the mare when she had been sufficiently damaged. John Garvestad + had himself watched the fight from behind the fence, and had laughed fit + to split his sides, until Valders-Roan seemed on the point of being + worsted. Then he had interfered to separate them, and Tollef had led Lady + Clare away, bleeding from a dozen wounds, and had hidden her in a deserted + lumberman’s shed near the saeter where the searchers had overtaken him. + </p> + <p> + Having obtained these facts, Erik took pains to let John Garvestad know + that the chain of evidence against him was complete, and if he had had his + own way he would not have rested until his enemy had suffered the full + penalty of the law. But John Garvestad, suspecting what was in the young + man’s mind, suddenly divested himself of his pride, and cringing dike a + whipped dog, came and asked Erik’s pardon, entreating him not to + prosecute. + </p> + <p> + As for Lady Clare, she never recovered her lost beauty. A pretty + fair-looking mare she became, to be sure, when good feeding and careful + grooming had made her fat and glossy once more. A long and contented old + age is, no doubt, in store for her. Having known evil days, she + appreciates the blessings which the change in her fate has brought her. + The captain declares she is the best-tempered and steadiest horse in his + stable. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BONNYBOY + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <p> + “Oh, you never will amount to anything, Bonnyboy!” said Bonnyboy’s father, + when he had vainly tried to show him how to use a gouge; for Bonnyboy had + just succeeded in gouging a piece out of his hand, and was standing + helplessly, letting his blood drop on an engraving of Napoleon at + Austerlitz, which had been sent to his father for framing. The trouble + with Bonnyboy was that he was not only awkward—left-handed in + everything he undertook, as his father put it—but he was so very + good-natured that it was impossible to get angry with him. His large blue + innocent eyes had a childlike wonder in them, when he had done anything + particularly stupid, and he was so willing and anxious to learn, that his + ill-success seemed a reason for pity rather than for wrath. Grim Norvold, + Bonnyboy’s father, was by trade a carpenter, and handy as he was at all + kinds of tinkering, he found it particularly exasperating to have a son + who was so left-handed. There was scarcely anything Grim could not do. He + could take a watch apart and put it together again; he could mend a + harness if necessary; he could make a wagon; nay, he could even doctor a + horse when it got spavin or glanders. He was a sort of jack-of-all-trades, + and a very useful man in a valley where mechanics were few and + transportation difficult. He loved work for its own sake, and was ill at + ease when he had not a tool in his hand. The exercise of his skill gave + him a pleasure akin to that which the fish feels in swimming, the eagle in + soaring, and the lark in singing. A finless fish, a wingless eagle, or a + dumb lark could not have been more miserable than Grim was when a + succession of holidays, like Easter or Christmas, compelled him to be + idle. + </p> + <p> + When his son was born his chief delight was to think of the time when he + should be old enough to handle a tool, and learn the secrets of his + father’s trade. Therefore, from the time the boy was old enough to sit or + to crawl in the shavings without getting his mouth and eyes full of + sawdust, he gave him a place under the turning bench, and talked or sang + to him while he worked. And Bonnyboy, in the meanwhile amused himself by + getting into all sorts of mischief. If it had not been for the belief that + a good workman must grow up in the atmosphere of the shop, Grim would have + lost patience with his son and sent him back to his mother, who had better + facilities for taking care of him. But the fact was he was too fond of the + boy to be able to dispense with him, and he would rather bear the loss + resulting from his mischief than miss his prattle and his pretty dimpled + face. + </p> + <p> + It was when the child was eighteen or nineteen months old that he acquired + the name Bonnyboy. A woman of the neighborhood, who had called at the shop + with some article of furniture which she wanted to have mended, discovered + the infant in the act of investigating a pot of blue paint, with a part of + which he had accidentally decorated his face. + </p> + <p> + “Good gracious! what is that ugly thing you have got under your turning + bench?” she cried, staring at the child in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “No, he is not an ugly thing,” replied the father, with resentment; “he is + a bonny boy, that’s what he is.” + </p> + <p> + The woman, in order to mollify Grim, turned to the boy, and asked, with + her sweetest manner, “What is your name, child?” + </p> + <p> + “Bonny boy,” murmured the child, with a vaguely offended air—“bonny + boy.” + </p> + <p> + And from that day the name Bonnyboy clung to him. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + To teach Bonnyboy the trade of a carpenter was a task which would have + exhausted the patience of all the saints in the calendar. If there was any + possible way of doing a thing wrong, Bonnyboy would be sure to hit upon + that way. When he was eleven years old he chopped off the third joint of + the ring-finger on his right hand with a cutting tool while working the + turning-lathe; and by the time he was fourteen it seemed a marvel to his + father that he had any fingers left at all. But Bonnyboy persevered in + spite of all difficulties, was always cheerful and of good courage, and + when his father, in despair, exclaimed: “Well, you will never amount to + anything, Bonnyboy,” he would look up with his slow, winning smile and + say: + </p> + <p> + “Don’t worry, father. Better luck next time.” + </p> + <p> + “But, my dear boy, how can I help worrying, when you don’t learn anything + by which you can make your living?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, well, father,” said Bonnyboy, soothingly (for he was beginning to + feel sorry on his father’s account rather than on his own), “I wouldn’t + bother about that if I were you. I don’t worry a bit. Something will turn + up for me to do, sooner or later.” + </p> + <p> + “But you’ll do it badly, Bonnyboy, and then you won’t get a second chance. + And then, who knows but you may starve to death. You’ll chop off the + fingers you have left; and when I am dead and can no longer look after + you, I am very much afraid you’ll manage to chop off your head too.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” observed Bonnyboy, cheerfully, “in that case I shall not starve to + death.” + </p> + <p> + Grim had to laugh in spite of himself at the paternal way in which his son + comforted him, as if he were the party to be pitied. Bonnyboy’s unfailing + cheerfulness, which had its great charm, began to cause him uneasiness, + because he feared it was but another form of stupidity. A cleverer boy + would have been sorry for his mistakes and anxious about his own future. + But Bonnyboy looked into the future with the serene confidence of a child, + and nothing under the sun ever troubled him, except his father’s tendency + to worry. For he was very fond of his father, and praised him as a paragon + of skill and excellence. He lavished an abject admiration on everything he + did and said. His dexterity in the use of tools, and his varied + accomplishments as a watch-maker and a horse-doctor, filled Bonnyboy with + ungrudging amazement. He knew it was a hopeless thing for him to aspire to + rival such genius, and he took the thing philosophically, and did not + aspire. + </p> + <p> + It occurred to Grim one day, when Bonnyboy had made a most discouraging + exhibition of his awkwardness, that it might be a good thing to ask the + pastor’s advice in regard to him. The pastor had had a long experience in + educating children, and his own, though they were not all clever, promised + to turn out well. Accordingly Grim called at the parsonage, was well + received, and returned home charged to the muzzle with good advice. The + pastor lent him a book full of stories, and recommended him to read them + to his son, and afterward question him about every single fact which each + story contained. This the pastor had found to be a good way to develop the + intellect of a backward boy. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. + </h2> + <p> + When Bonnyboy had been confirmed, the question again rose what was to + become of him. He was now a tall young fellow, red-checked, + broad-shouldered, and strong, and rather nice-looking. A slow, + good-natured smile spread over his face when anyone spoke to him, and he + had a way of flinging his head back, when the tuft of yellow hair which + usually hung down over his forehead obscured his sight. Most people liked + him, even though they laughed at him behind his back; but to his face + nobody laughed, because his strength inspired respect. Nor did he know + what fear was when he was roused; but that was probably, as people + thought, because he did not know much of anything. At any rate, on a + certain occasion he showed that there was a limit to his good-nature, and + when that limit was reached, he was not as harmless a fellow as he looked. + </p> + <p> + On the neighboring farm of Gimlehaug there was a wedding to which Grim and + his son were invited. On the afternoon of the second wedding day—for + peasant weddings in Norway are often celebrated for three days—a + notorious bully named Ola Klemmerud took it into his head to have some + sport with the big good-natured simpleton. So, by way of pleasantry, he + pulled the tuft of hair which hung down upon Bonnyboy’s forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Don’t do that,” said Bonnyboy. + </p> + <p> + Ola Klemmerud chuckled, and the next time he passed Bonnyboy, pinched his + ear. + </p> + <p> + “If you do that again I sha’n’t like you,” cried Bonnyboy. + </p> + <p> + The innocence of that remark made the people laugh, and the bully, seeing + that their sympathy was on his side, was encouraged to continue his + teasing. Taking a few dancing steps across the floor, he managed to touch + Bonnyboy’s nose with the toe of his boot, which feat again was rewarded + with a burst of laughter. The poor lad quietly blew his nose, wiped the + perspiration off his brow with a red handkerchief, and said, “Don’t make + me mad, Ola, or I might hurt you.” + </p> + <p> + This speech struck the company as being immensely funny, and they laughed + till the tears ran down their cheeks. At this moment Grim entered, and + perceived at once that Ola Klemmerud was amusing the company at his son’s + expense. He grew hot about his ears, clinched his teeth, and stared + challengingly at the bully. The latter began to feel uncomfortable, but he + could not stop at this point without turning the laugh against himself, + and that he had not the courage to do. So in order to avoid rousing the + father’s wrath, and yet preserving his own dignity, he went over to + Bonnyboy, rumpled his hair with both his hands, and tweaked his nose. This + appeared such innocent sport, according to his notion, that no rational + creature could take offence at it. But Grim, whose sense of humor was + probably defective, failed to see it in that light. + </p> + <p> + “Let the boy alone,” he thundered. + </p> + <p> + “Well, don’t bite my head off, old man,” replied Ola. “I haven’t hurt your + fool of a boy. I have only been joking with him.” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t think you are troubled with overmuch wit yourself, judging by the + style of your jokes,” was Grim’s cool retort. + </p> + <p> + The company, who plainly saw that Ola was trying to wriggle out of his + difficulty, but were anxious not to lose an exciting scene, screamed with + laughter again; but this time at the bully’s expense. The blood mounted to + his head, and his anger got the better of his natural cowardice. Instead + of sneaking off, as he had intended, he wheeled about on his heel and + stood for a moment irresolute, clinching his fist in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you take your lunkhead of a son home to his mother, if he isn’t + bright enough to understand fun!” he shouted. + </p> + <p> + “Now let me see if you are bright enough to understand the same kind of + fun,” cried Grim. Whereupon he knocked off Ola’s cap, rumpled his hair, + and gave his nose such a pull that it was a wonder it did not come off. + </p> + <p> + The bully, taken by surprise, tumbled a step backward, but recovering + himself, struck Grim in the face with his clinched fist. At this moment. + Bonnyboy, who had scarcely taken in the situation; jumped up and screamed, + “Sit down, Ola Klemmerud, sit down!” + </p> + <p> + The effect of this abrupt exclamation was so comical, that people nearly + fell from their benches as they writhed and roared with laughter. + </p> + <p> + Bonnyboy, who had risen to go to his father’s assistance, paused in + astonishment in the middle of the floor. He could not comprehend, poor + boy, why everything he said provoked such uncontrollable mirth. He surely + had no intention of being funny. + </p> + <p> + So, taken aback a little, he repeated to himself, half wonderingly, with + an abrupt pause after each word, “Sit—down—Ola—Klemmerud—sit—down!” + </p> + <p> + But Ola Klemmerud, instead of sitting down, hit Grim repeatedly about the + face and head, and it was evident that the elder man, in spite of his + strength, was not a match for him in alertness. This dawned presently upon + Bonnyboy’s slow comprehension, and his good-natured smile gave way to a + flush of excitement. He took two long strides across the floor, pushed his + father gently aside, and stood facing his antagonist. He repeated once + more his invitation to sit down; to which the latter responded with a slap + which made the sparks dance before Bonnyboy’s eyes. Now Bonnyboy became + really angry. Instead of returning the slap, he seized his enemy with a + sudden and mighty grab by both his shoulders, lifted him up as if he were + a bag of hay, and put him down on a chair with such force that it broke + into splinters under him. + </p> + <p> + “Will you now sit down?” said Bonnyboy. + </p> + <p> + Nobody laughed this time, and the bully, not daring to rise, remained + seated on the floor among the ruins of the chair. Thereupon, with + imperturbable composure, Bonnyboy turned to his father, brushed off his + coat with his hands and smoothed his disordered hair. “Now let us go home, + father,” he said, and taking the old man’s arm he walked out of the room. + But hardly had he crossed the threshold before the astonished company + broke into cheering. + </p> + <p> + “Good for you, Bonnyboy!” “Well done, Bonnyboy!” “You are a bully boy, + Bonnyboy!” they cried after him. + </p> + <p> + But Bonnyboy strode calmly along, quite unconscious of his triumph, and + only happy to have gotten his father out of the room safe and sound. For a + good while they walked on in silence. Then, when the effect of the + excitement had begun to wear away, Grim stopped in the path, gazed + admiringly at his son, and said, “Well, Bonnyboy, you are a queer fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes,” answered Bonnyboy, blushing with embarrassment (for though he + did not comprehend the remark, he felt the approving gaze); “but then, you + know, I asked him to sit down, and he wouldn’t.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless your innocent heart!” murmured his father, as he gazed at + Bonnyboy’s honest face with a mingling of affection and pity. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. + </h2> + <p> + When Bonnyboy was twenty years old his father gave up, once for all, his + attempt to make a carpenter of him. A number of saw-mills had been built + during the last years along the river down in the valley, and the old + rapids had been broken up into a succession of mill-dams, one above the + other. At one of these saw-mills Bonnyboy sought work, and was engaged + with many others as a mill hand. His business was to roll the logs on to + the little trucks that ran on rails, and to push them up to the saws, + where they were taken in charge by another set of men, who fastened and + watched them while they were cut up into planks. Very little art was, + indeed, required for this simple task; but strength was required, and of + this Bonnyboy had enough and to spare. He worked with a will from early + morn till dewy eve, and was happy in the thought that he had at last found + something that he could do. It made the simple-hearted fellow proud to + observe that he was actually gaining his father’s regard; or, at all + events, softening the disappointment which, in a vague way, he knew that + his dulness must have caused him. If, occasionally, he was hurt by a + rolling log, he never let any one know it; but even though his foot was a + mass of agony every time he stepped on it, he would march along as stiffly + as a soldier. It was as if he felt his father’s eye upon him long before + he saw him. + </p> + <p> + There was a curious kind of sympathy between them which expressed itself, + on the father’s part, in a need to be near his son. But he feared to avow + any such weakness, knowing that Bonnyboy would interpret it as distrust of + his ability to take care of himself, and a desire to help him if he got + into trouble. Grim, therefore, invented all kinds of transparent pretexts + for paying visits to the saw-mills. And when he saw Bonnyboy, conscious + that his eye was resting upon him, swinging his axe so that the chips flew + about his ears, and the perspiration rained from his brow, a dim anxiety + often took possession of him, though he could give no reason for it. That + big brawny fellow, with the frame of a man and the brain of a child, with + his guileless face and his guileless heart, strangely moved his + compassion. There was something almost beautiful about him, his father + thought; but he could not have told what it was; nor would he probably + have found any one else that shared his opinion. That frank and genial + gaze of Bonnyboy’s, which expressed goodness of heart but nothing else, + seemed to Grim an “open sesame” to all hearts; and that unawakened + something which goes so well with childhood, but not with adult age, + filled him with tenderness and a vague anxiety. “My poor lad,” he would + murmur to himself, as he caught sight of Bonnyboy’s big perspiring face, + with the yellow tuft of hair hanging down over his forehead, “clever you + are not; but you have that which the cleverest of us often lack.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. + </h2> + <p> + There were sixteen saw-mills in all, and the one at which Bonnyboy was + employed was the last of the series. They were built on little terraces on + both banks of the river, and every four of them were supplied with power + from an artificial dam, in which the water was stored in time of drought, + and from which it escaped in a mill-race when required for use. These four + dams were built of big stones, earthwork, and lumber, faced with smooth + planks, over which a small quantity of water usually drizzled into the + shallow river-bed. Formerly, before the power was utilized, this slope had + been covered with seething and swirling rapids—a favorite resort of + the salmon, which leaped high in the spring, and were caught in the + box-traps that hung on long beams over the water. Now the salmon had small + chance of shedding their spawn in the cool, bright mountain pools, for + they could not leap the dams, and if by chance one got into the mill-race, + it had a hopeless struggle against a current that would have carried an + elephant off his feet. Bonnyboy, who more than once had seen the beautiful + silvery fish spring right on to the millwheel, and be flung upon the + rocks, had wished that he had understood the language of the fishes, so + that he might tell them how foolish such proceedings were. But merciful + though he was, he had been much discouraged when, after having put them + back into the river, they had promptly repeated the experiment. + </p> + <p> + There were about twenty-five or thirty men employed at the mill where + Bonnyboy earned his bread in the sweat of his brow, and he was, on the + whole, on good terms with all of them. They did, to be sure, make fun of + him occasionally; but sometimes he failed to understand it, and at other + times he made clumsy but good-humored attempts to repay their gibes in + kind. They took good care, however, not to rouse his wrath, for the + reputation he had acquired by his treatment of Ola Klemmerud made them + afraid to risk a collision. + </p> + <p> + This was the situation when the great floods of 188- came, and introduced + a spice of danger into Bonnyboy’s monotonous life. The mill-races were now + kept open night and day, and yet the water burst like a roaring cascade + over the tops of dams, and the river-bed was filled to overflowing with a + swiftly-hurrying tawny torrent, which filled the air with its rush and + swash, and sent hissing showers of spray flying through the tree-tops. + Bonnyboy and a gang of twenty men were working as they had never worked + before in their lives, under the direction of an engineer, who had been + summoned by the mill-owner to strengthen the dams; for if but one of them + burst, the whole tremendous volume of water would be precipitated upon the + valley, and the village by the lower falls and every farm within half a + mile of the river-banks would be swept out of existence. Guards were + stationed all the way up the river to intercept any stray lumber that + might be afloat. For if a log jam were added to the terrific strain of the + flood, there would surely be no salvation possible. Yet in spite of all + precautions, big logs now and then came bumping against the dams, and shot + with wild gyrations and somersaults down into the brown eddies below. + </p> + <p> + The engineer, who was standing on the top of a log pile, had shouted until + he was hoarse, and gesticulated with his cane until his arms were lame, + but yet there was a great deal to do before he could go to bed with an + easy conscience. Bonnyboy and his comrades, who had had by far the harder + part of the task, were ready to drop with fatigue. It was now eight + o’clock in the evening, and they had worked since six in the morning, and + had scarcely had time to swallow their scant rations. Some of them began + to grumble, and the engineer had to coax and threaten them to induce them + to persevere for another hour. The moon was just rising behind the + mountain ridges, and the beautiful valley lay, with its green fields, + sprouting forests, and red-painted farm-houses, at Bonnyboy’s feet. It was + terrible to think that perhaps destruction was to overtake those happy and + peaceful homes, where men had lived and died for many hundred years. + Bonnyboy could scarcely keep back the tears when this fear suddenly came + over him. Was it not strange that, though they knew that danger was + threatening, they made not the slightest effort to save themselves? In the + village below men were still working in their forges, whose chimneys + belched forth fiery smoke, and the sound of their hammer-blows could be + heard above the roar of the river. Women were busy with their household + tasks; some boys were playing in the streets, damming up the gutters and + shrieking with joy when their dams broke. A few provident souls had driven + their cattle to the neighboring hills; but neither themselves nor their + children had they thought it necessary to remove. The fact was, nobody + believed that the dams would break, as they had not imagination enough to + foresee what would happen if the dams did break. + </p> + <p> + Bonnyboy was wet to the skin, and his knees were a trifle shaky from + exhaustion. He had been cutting down an enormous mast-tree, which was + needed for a prop to the dam, and had hauled it down with two horses, one + of which was a half-broken gray colt, unused to pulling in a team. To + restrain this frisky animal had required all Bonnyboy’s strength, and he + stood wiping his brow with the sleeve of his shirt. Just at that moment a + terrified yell sounded from above: “Run for your lives! The upper dam is + breaking!” + </p> + <p> + The engineer from the top of the log-pile cast a swift glance up the + valley, and saw at once from the increasing volume of water that the + report was true. + </p> + <p> + “Save yourselves, lads!” he screamed. “Run to the woods!” + </p> + <p> + And suiting his action to his words, he tumbled down from the log pile, + and darted up the hill-side toward the forest. The other men, hearing the + wild rush and roar above them, lost no time in following his example. Only + Bonnyboy, slow of comprehension as always, did not obey. Suddenly there + flared up a wild resolution in his face. He pulled out his knife, cut the + traces, and leaped upon the colt’s back. Lashing the beast, and shouting + at the top of his voice, he dashed down the hill-side at a break-neck + pace. + </p> + <p> + “The dam is breaking!” he roared. “Run for the woods!” + </p> + <p> + He glanced anxiously behind him to see if the flood was overtaking him. A + great cloud of spray was rising against the sky, and he heard the yells of + men and the frenzied neighing of horses through the thunderous roar. But + happily there was time. The dam was giving way gradually, and had not yet + let loose the tremendous volume of death and desolation which it held + enclosed within its frail timbers. The colt, catching the spirit of + excitement in the air, flew like the wind, leaving farm after farm behind + it, until it reached the village. + </p> + <p> + “The dam is breaking! Run for your lives!” cried Bonnyboy, with a rousing + clarion yell which rose above all other poises; and up and down the valley + the dread tidings spread like wildfire. In an instant all was in wildest + commotion. Terrified mothers, with babes in their arms, came bursting out + of the houses, and little girls, hugging kittens or cages with + canary-birds, clung weeping to their skirts; shouting men, shrieking + women, crying children, barking dogs, gusty showers sweeping from nowhere + down upon the distracted fugitives, and above all the ominous, throbbing, + pulsating roar as of a mighty chorus of cataracts. It came nearer and + nearer. It filled the great vault of the sky with a rush as of colossal + wing-beats. Then there came a deafening creaking and crashing; then a huge + brownish-white rolling wall, upon which the moonlight gleamed for an + instant, and then the very trump of doom—a writhing, brawling, + weltering chaos of cattle, dogs, men, lumber, houses, barns, whirling and + struggling upon the destroying flood. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. + </h2> + <p> + It was the morning after the disaster. The sun rose red and threatening, + circled with a ring of fiery mist. People encamped upon the hill-side + greeted each other as on the morn of resurrection. For many were found + among the living who were being mourned as dead. Mothers hugged their + children with tearful joy, thanking God that they had been spared; and + husbands who had heard through the night the agonized cries of their + drowning wives, finding them at dawn safe and sound, felt as if they had + recovered them from the very gates of death. When all were counted, it was + ascertained that but very few of the villagers had been overtaken by the + flood. The timely warning had enabled all to save themselves, except some + who in their eagerness to rescue their goods had lingered too long. + Impoverished most of them were by the loss of their houses and cattle. The + calamity was indeed overwhelming. But when they considered how much + greater the disaster would have been if the flood had come upon them + unheralded, they felt that they had cause for gratitude in the midst of + their sorrow. And who was it that brought the tidings that snatched them + from the jaws of death? Well, nobody knew. He rode too fast. And each was + too much startled by the message to take note of the messenger. But who + could he possibly have been? An angel from Heaven, perhaps sent by God in + His mercy. That was indeed more than likely. The belief was at once + accepted that the rescuer was an angel from heaven. But just then a + lumberman stepped forward who had worked at the mill and said: “It was + Bonnyboy, Grim Carpenter’s son. I saw him jump on his gray colt.” + </p> + <p> + Bonnyboy, Grim Carpenter’s son. It couldn’t be possible. But the lumberman + insisted that it was, and they had to believe him, though, of course, it + was a disappointment. But where was Bonnyboy? He deserved thanks, surely. + And, moreover, that gray colt was a valuable animal. It was to be hoped + that it was not drowned. + </p> + <p> + The water had now subsided, though it yet overflowed the banks; so that + trees, bent and splintered by the terrific force of the flood, grew far + out in the river. The foul dams had all been swept away, and the tawny + torrent ran again with tumultuous rapids in its old channel. Of the mills + scarcely a vestige was left except slight cavities in the banks, and a few + twisted beams clinging to the rocks where they had stood. The ruins of the + village, with jagged chimneys and broken walls, loomed out of a + half-inundated meadow, through which erratic currents were sweeping. Here + and there lay a dead cow or dog, and in the branches of a maple-tree the + carcasses of two sheep were entangled. In this marshy field a stooping + figure was seen wading about, as if in search of something. The water + broke about his knees, and sometimes reached up to his waist. He stood + like one dazed, and stared into the brown swirling torrent. Now he poked + something with his boat-hook, now bent down and purled some dead thing out + of a copse of shrubbery in which it had been caught. The sun rose higher + in the sky, and the red vapors were scattered. But still the old man + trudged wearily about, with the stony stare in his eyes, searching for him + whom he had lost. One company after another now descended from the + hill-sides, and from the high-lying farms which had not been reached by + the flood came wagons with provisions and clothes, and men and women eager + and anxious to help. They shouted to the old man in the submerged field, + and asked what he was looking for. But he only shook his head, as if he + did not understand. + </p> + <p> + “Why, that is old Grim the carpenter,” said someone. “Has anybody seen + Bonnyboy?” + </p> + <p> + But no one had seen Bonnyboy. + </p> + <p> + “Do you want help?” they shouted to Grim; but they got no answer. + </p> + <p> + Hour after hour old Grim trudged about in the chilly water searching for + his son. Then, about noon, when he had worked his way far down the river, + he caught sight of something which made his heart stand still. In a brown + pool, in which a half-submerged willow-tree grew, he saw a large grayish + shape which resembled a horse. He stretched out the boat-hook and rolled + it over. Dumbly, fearlessly, he stood staring into the pool. There lay his + son—there lay Bonnyboy stark and dead. + </p> + <p> + The cold perspiration broke out upon Grim’s brow, and his great breast + labored. Slowly he stooped down, drew the dead body out of the water, and + tenderly laid it across his knees. He stared into the sightless eyes, and + murmuring a blessing, closed them. There was a large discolored spot on + the forehead, as of a bruise. Grim laid his hand softly upon it, and + stroked away the yellow tuft of hair. + </p> + <p> + “My poor lad,” he said, while the tears coursed down his wrinkled cheeks, + “you had a weak head, but your heart, Bonnyboy—your heart was good.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE CHILD OF LUCK + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <p> + A sunny-tempered little fellow was Hans, and his father declared that he + had brought luck with him when he came into the world. + </p> + <p> + “He was such a handsome baby when he was born,” said Inga, his mother; + “but you would scarcely believe it now, running about as he does in forest + and field, tearing his clothes and scratching his face.” + </p> + <p> + Now, it was true, as Hans’s mother said, that he did often tear his + clothes; and as he had an indomitable curiosity, and had to investigate + everything that came in his way, it was also no uncommon thing for him to + come home with his face stung or scratched. + </p> + <p> + “Why must you drag that child with you wherever you go, Nils?” the mother + complained to Hans’s father, when the little boy was brought to her in + such a disreputable condition. “Why can’t you leave him at home? What + other man do you know who carries a six-year-old little fellow about with + him in rain and shine, storm and quiet? + </p> + <p> + “Well,” Nils invariably answered, “I like him and he likes me. He brings + me luck.” + </p> + <p> + This was a standing dispute between Nils and Inga, his wife, and they + never came to an agreement. She knew as well as her husband that before + little Hans was born there was want and misery in their cottage. But from + the hour the child lifted up its tiny voice, announcing its arrival, there + had been prosperity and contentment. Their luck had turned, Nils said, and + it was the child that had turned it. They had been married for four years, + and though they had no one to provide for but themselves, they scarcely + managed to keep body and soul together. All sorts of untoward things + happened. Now a tree which he was cutting down fell upon Nils and laid him + up for a month; now he got water on his knee from a blow he received while + rolling logs into the chute; now the pig died which was to have provided + them with salt pork for the winter, and the hens took to the bush, and + laid their eggs where nobody except the rats and the weasels could find + them. But since little Hans had come and put an end to all these + disasters, his father had a superstitious feeling that he could not bear + to have him away from him. Therefore every morning when he started out for + the forest or the river he carried Hans on his shoulder. And the little + boy sat there, smiling proudly and waving his hand to his mother, who + stood in the door looking longingly after him. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, little chap!” cried the lumbermen, when they saw him. + “Good-morning to you and good luck!” + </p> + <p> + They always cheered up, however bad the weather was, when they saw little + Hans, for nobody could look at his sunny little face without feeling + something like a ray of sunlight stealing into his heart. Hans had a smile + and a wave of his hand for everybody. He knew all the lumbermen by name, + and they knew him. + </p> + <p> + They sang as they swung the axe or the boat-hook, and the work went + merrily when little Hans sat on the top of the log pile and shouted to + them. But if by chance he was absent for a day or two they missed him. No + songs were heard, but harsh words, and not infrequently quarrels. Now, + nobody believed, of course, that little Hans was such a wizard that he + could make people feel and behave any better than it was in their nature + to do; but sure it was—at least the lumbermen insisted that it was + so—there was joy and good-tempered mirth wherever that child went, + and life seemed a little sadder and poorer to those who knew him when he + was away. + </p> + <p> + No one will wonder that Nils sometimes boasted of his little son. + </p> + <p> + He told not once, but a hundred times, as they sat about the camp-fire + eating their dinner, that little Hans was a child of luck, and that no + misfortune could happen while he was near. Lumbermen are naturally + superstitious, and though perhaps at first they may have had their doubts, + they gradually came to accept the statement without question. They came to + regard it as a kind of right to have little Hans sit on the top of the log + pile when they worked, or running along the chute, while the wild-cat + strings of logs shot down the steep slide with lightning speed. They were + not in the least afraid lest the logs should jump the chute, as they had + often done before, killing or maiming the unhappy man that came too near. + For was not little Hans’s life charmed, so that no harm could befall him? + </p> + <p> + Now, it happened that Inga, little Hans’s mother, came one day to the + river to see how he was getting on. Nils was then standing on a raft + hooking the floating logs with his boat-hook, while the boy was watching + him from the shore, shouting to him, throwing chips into the water, and + amusing himself as best he could. It was early in May, and the river was + swollen from recent thaws. Below the cataract where the lumbermen worked, + the broad, brown current moved slowly along with sluggish whirls and + eddies; but the raft was moored by chains to the shore, so that it was in + no danger of getting adrift. It was capital fun to see the logs come + rushing down the slide, plunging with a tremendous splash into the river, + and then bob up like live things after having bumped against the bottom. + Little Hans clapped his hands and yelled with delight when a string of + three or four came tearing along in that way, and dived, one after the + other, headlong into the water. + </p> + <p> + “Catch that one, papa!” he cried; “that is a good big fellow. He dived + like a man, he did. He has washed the dirt off his snout now; that was the + reason he took such a big plunge.” + </p> + <p> + Nils never failed to reach his boat-hook after the log little Hans + indicated, for he liked to humor him, and little Hans liked to be humored. + He had an idea that he was directing his father’s work, and Nils invented + all sorts of innocent devices to flatter little Hans’s dignity, and make + him think himself indispensable. It was of no use, therefore, for poor + Inga to beg little Hans to go home with her. He had so much to do, he + said, that he couldn’t. He even tried to tear himself away from his mother + when she took him by the arm and remonstrated with him. And then and there + the conviction stole upon Inga that her child did not love her. She was + nothing to him compared to what his father was. And was it right for Nils + thus to rob her of the boy’s affection? Little Hans could scarcely be + blamed for loving his father better; for love is largely dependent upon + habit, and Nils had been his constant companion since he was a year old. A + bitter sense of loneliness and loss overcame the poor wife as she stood on + the river-bank pleading with her child, and finding that she annoyed + instead of moving him. + </p> + <p> + “Won’t you come home with mamma, little Hans?” she asked, tearfully. “The + kitten misses you very much; it has been mewing for you all the morning.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said little Hans, thrusting his hands into his pockets, and turning + about with a manly stride; “we are going to have the lumber inspector here + to-day? and then papa’s big raft is going down the river.” + </p> + <p> + “But this dreadful noise, dear; how can you stand it? And the logs + shooting down that slide and making such a racket. And these great piles + of lumber, Hans—think, if they should tumble down and kill you!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I’m not afraid, mamma,” cried Hans, proudly; and, to show his + fearlessness, he climbed up the log pile, and soon stood on the top of it, + waving his cap and shouting. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do come down, child—do come down!” begged Inga, anxiously. + </p> + <p> + She had scarcely uttered the words when she heard a warning shout from the + slope above, and had just time to lift her eyes, when she saw a big black + object dart past her, strike the log pile, and break with a deafening + crash. A long confused rumble of rolling logs followed, terrified voices + rent the air, and, above it all, the deep and steady roar of the cataract. + She saw, as through a fog, little Hans, serene and smiling as ever, borne + down on the top of the rolling lumber, now rising up and skipping from log + to log, now clapping his hands and screaming with pleasure, and then + suddenly vanishing in the brown writhing river. His laughter was still + ringing in her ears; the poor child, he did not realize his danger. The + rumbling of falling logs continued with terrifying persistence. Splash! + splash! splash! they went, diving by twos, by fours, and by dozens at the + very spot where her child had vanished. But where was little Hans? Oh, + where was he? It was all so misty, so unreal and confused. She could not + tell whether little Hans was among the living or among the dead. But + there, all of a sudden, his head popped up in the middle of the river; and + there was another head close to his—it was that of his father! And + round about them other heads bobbed up; for all the lumbermen who were on + the raft had plunged into the water with Nils when they saw that little + Hans was in danger. A dozen more were running down the slope as fast as + their legs could carry them; and they gave a tremendous cheer when they + saw little Hans’s face above the water. He looked a trifle pale and + shivery, and he gave a funny little snort, so that the water spurted from + his nose. He had lost his hat, but he did not seem to be hurt. His little + arms clung tightly about his father’s neck, while Nils, dodging the + bobbing logs, struck out with all his might for the shore. And when he + felt firm bottom under his feet, and came stumbling up through the shallow + water, looking like a drowned rat, what a welcome he received from the + lumbermen! They all wanted to touch little Hans and pat his cheek, just to + make sure that it was really he. + </p> + <p> + “It was wonderful indeed,” they said, “that he ever came up out of that + horrible jumble of pitching and diving logs. He is a child of luck, if + ever there was one.” + </p> + <p> + Not one of them thought of the boy’s mother, and little Hans himself + scarcely thought of her, elated as he was at the welcome he received from + the lumbermen. Poor Inga stood dazed, struggling with a horrible feeling, + seeing her child passed from one to the other, while she herself claimed + no share in him. Somehow the thought stung her. A sudden clearness burst + upon her; she rushed forward, with a piercing scream, snatched little Hans + from his father’s arms, and hugging his wet little shivering form to her + breast, fled like a deer through the underbrush. + </p> + <p> + From that day little Hans was not permitted to go to the river. It was in + vain that Nils pleaded and threatened. His wife acted so unreasonably when + that question was broached that he saw it was useless to discuss it. She + seized little Hans as a tigress might seize her young, and held him + tightly clasped, as if daring anybody to take him away from her. Nils knew + it would require force to get his son back again, and that he was not + ready to employ. But all joy seemed to have gone out of his life since he + had lost the daily companionship of little Hans. His work became drudgery; + and all the little annoyances of life, which formerly he had brushed away + as one brushes a fly from his nose, became burdens and calamities. The + raft upon which he had expended so much labor went to pieces during a + sudden rise of the river the night after little Hans’s adventure, and + three days later Thorkel Fossen was killed outright by a string of logs + that jumped the chute. + </p> + <p> + “It isn’t the same sort of place since you took little Hans away,” the + lumbermen would often say to Nils. “There’s no sort of luck in anything.” + </p> + <p> + Sometimes they taunted him with want of courage, and called him a + “night-cap” and a “hen-pecked coon,” all of which made Nils uncomfortable. + He made two or three attempts to persuade his wife to change her mind in + regard to little Hans, but the last time she got so frightened that she + ran out of the house and hid in the cow stable with the boy, crouching in + an empty stall, and crying as if her heart would break, when little Hans + escaped and betrayed her hiding-place. The boy, in fact, sympathized with + his father, and found his confinement at home irksome. The companionship + of the cat had no more charm for him; and even the brindled calf, which + had caused such an excitement when he first arrived, had become an old + story. Little Halls fretted, was mischievous for want of better + employment, and gave his mother no end of trouble. He longed for the gay + and animated life at the river, and he would have run away if he had not + been watched. He could not imagine how the lumbermen could be getting on + without him. It seemed to him that all work must come to a stop when he + was no longer sitting on the top of the log piles, or standing on the bank + throwing chips into the water. + </p> + <p> + Now, as a matter of fact, they were not getting on very well at the river + without little Hans. The luck had deserted them, the lumbermen said; and + whatever mishaps they had, they attributed to the absence of little Hans. + They came to look with ill-suppressed hostility at Nils, whom they + regarded as responsible for their misfortunes. For they could scarcely + believe that he was quite in earnest in his desire for the boy’s return, + otherwise they could not comprehend how his wife could dare to oppose him. + The weather was stormy, and the mountain brook which ran along the slide + concluded to waste no more labor in carving out a bed for itself in the + rock, when it might as well be using the slide which it found ready made. + And one fine day it broke into the slide and half filled it, so that the + logs, when they were started down the steep incline, sent the water + flying, turned somersaults, stood on end, and played no end of dangerous + tricks which no one could foresee. Several men were badly hurt by beams + shooting like rockets through the air, and old Mads Furubakken was knocked + senseless and carried home for dead. Then the lumbermen held a council, + and made up their minds to get little Hans by fair means or foul. They + thought first of sending a delegation of four or five men that very + morning, but finally determined to march up to Nils’s cottage in a body + and demand the boy. There were twenty of them at the very least, and the + tops of their long boat-hooks, which they carried on their shoulders, were + seen against the green forest before they were themselves visible. + </p> + <p> + Nils, who was just out of bed, was sitting on the threshold smoking his + pipe and pitching a ball to little Hans, who laughed with delight whenever + he caught it. Inga was bustling about inside the house, preparing + breakfast, which was to consist of porridge, salt herring, and baked + potatoes. It had rained during the night, and the sky was yet overcast, + but the sun was struggling to break through the cloud-banks. A couple of + thrushes in the alder-bushes about the cottage were rejoicing at the + change in the weather, and Nils was listening to their song and to his + son’s merry prattle, when he caught sight of the twenty lumbermen marching + up the hillside. He rose, with some astonishment, and went to meet them. + Inga, hearing their voices, came to the door, and seeing the many men, + snatched up little Hans, and with a wildly palpitating heart ran into the + cottage, bolting the door behind her. She had a vague foreboding that this + unusual visit meant something hostile to herself, and she guessed that + Nils had been only the spokesman of his comrades in demanding so eagerly + the return of the boy to the river. She believed all their talk about his + luck to be idle nonsense; but she knew that Nils had unwittingly spread + this belief, and that the lumbermen were convinced that little Hans was + their good genius, whose presence averted disaster. Distracted with fear + and anxiety, she stood pressing her ear against the crack in the door, and + sometimes peeping out to see what measures she must take for the child’s + safety. Would Nils stand by her, or would he desert her? But surely—what + was Nils thinking about? He was extending his hand to each of the men, and + receiving them kindly. + </p> + <p> + Next he would be inviting them to come in and take little Hans. She saw + one of the men—Stubby Mons by name—step forward, and she + plainly heard him say: + </p> + <p> + “We miss the little chap down at the river, Nils. The luck has been + against us since he left.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Mons,” Nils answered, “I miss the little chap as much as any of + you; perhaps more. But my wife—she’s got a sort of crooked notion + that the boy won’t come home alive if she lets him go to the river. She + got a bad scare last time, and it isn’t any use arguing with her.” + </p> + <p> + “But won’t you let us talk to her, Nils?” one of the lumbermen proposed. + “It is a tangled skein, and I don’t pretend to say that I can straighten + it out. But two men have been killed and one crippled since the little + chap was taken away. And in the three years he was with us no untoward + thing happened. Now that speaks for itself, Nils, doesn’t it?” + </p> + <p> + “It does, indeed,” said Nils, with an air of conviction. + </p> + <p> + “And you’ll let us talk to your wife, and see if we can’t make her listen + to reason,” the man urged. + </p> + <p> + “You are welcome to talk to her as much as you like,” Nils replied, + knocking out his pipe on the heel of his boot; “but I warn you that she’s + mighty cantankerous.” + </p> + <p> + He rose slowly, and tried to open the door. It was locked. “Open, Inga,” + he said, a trifle impatiently; “there are some men here who want to see + you.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + Inga sat crouching on the hearth, hugging little Hans to her bosom. She + shook and trembled with fear, let her eyes wander around the walls, and + now and then moaned at the thought that now they would take little Hans + away from her. + </p> + <p> + “Why don’t you open the door for papa?” asked little Hans, wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + Ah, he too was against her! All the world was against her! And her husband + was in league with her enemies! + </p> + <p> + “Open, I say!” cried Nils, vehemently. “What do you mean by locking the + door when decent people come to call upon us?” + </p> + <p> + Should she open the door or should she not? Holding little Hans in her + arms, she rose hesitatingly, and stretched out her hand toward the bolt. + But all of a sudden, in a paroxysm of fear, she withdrew her hand, turned + about, and fled with the child through the back door. The alder bushes + grew close up to the walls of the cottage, and by stooping a little she + managed to remain unobserved. Her greatest difficulty was to keep little + Hans from shouting to his father, and she had to put her hand over his + mouth to keep him quiet; for the boy, who had heard the voices without, + could not understand why he should not be permitted to go out and converse + with his friends the lumbermen. The wild eyes and agitated face of his + mother distressed him, and the little showers of last night’s rain which + the trees shook down upon him made him shiver. + </p> + <p> + “Why do you run so, mamma?” he asked, when she removed her hand from his + mouth. + </p> + <p> + “Because the bad men want to take you away from me, Hans,” she answered, + panting. + </p> + <p> + “Those were not bad men, mamma,” the boy ejaculated. “That was Stubby Mons + and Stuttering Peter and Lars Skin-breeches. They don’t, want to hurt me.” + </p> + <p> + He expected that his mamma would be much relieved at receiving this + valuable information, and return home without delay. But she still pressed + on, flushed and panting, and cast the same anxious glances behind her. + </p> + <p> + In the meanwhile Nils and his guests had entirely lost their patience. + Finding his persuasions of no avail, the former began to thump at the door + with the handle of his axe, and receiving no response, he climbed up to + the window and looked in. To his amazement there was no one in the room. + Thinking that Inga might have gone to the cow-stable, he ran to the rear + of the cottage, and called her name. Still no answer. + </p> + <p> + “Hans,” he cried, “where are you?” + </p> + <p> + But Hans, too, was as if spirited away. It scarcely occurred to Nils, + until he had searched the cow-stable and the house in vain, that his wife + had fled from the harmless lumbermen. Then the thought shot through his + brain that possibly she was not quite right in her head; that this fixed + idea that everybody wanted to take her child away from her had unsettled + her reason. Nils grew hot and cold in the same moment as this dreadful + apprehension took lodgement in his mind. Might she not, in her confused + effort to save little Hans, do him harm? In the blind and feverish terror + which possessed her might she not rush into the water, or leap over a + precipice? Visions of little Hans drowning, or whirled into the abyss in + his mother’s arms, crowded his fancy as he walked back to the lumbermen, + and told them that neither his wife nor child was anywhere to be found. + </p> + <p> + “I would ask ye this, lads,” he said, finally: “if you would help me + search for them. For Inga—I reckon she is a little touched in the + upper story—she has gone off with the boy, and I can’t get on + without little Hans any more than you can.” + </p> + <p> + The men understood the situation at a glance, and promised their aid. They + had all looked upon Inga as “high-strung” and “queer,” and it did not + surprise them to hear that she had been frightened out of her wits at + their request for the loan of little Hans. Forming a line, with a space of + twenty feet between each man, they began to beat the bush, climbing the + steep slope toward the mountains. Inga, pausing for an instant, and + peering out between the tree trunks, saw the alder bushes wave as they + broke through the underbrush. She knew now that she was pursued. Tired she + was, too, and the boy grew heavier for every step that she advanced. And + yet if she made him walk, he might run away from her. If he heard his + father’s voice, he would be certain to answer. Much perplexed, she looked + about her for a hiding-place. + </p> + <p> + For, as the men would be sure to overtake her, her only safety was in + hiding. With tottering knees she stumbled along, carrying the heavy child, + grabbing hold of the saplings for support, and yet scarcely keeping from + falling. The cold perspiration broke from her brow and a strange faintness + overcame her. + </p> + <p> + “You will have to walk, little Hans,” she said, at last. “But if you run + away from me, dear, I shall lie down here and die.” + </p> + <p> + Little Hans promised that he would not run away, and for five minutes they + walked up a stony path which looked like the abandoned bed of a brook. + </p> + <p> + “You hurt my hand, mamma,” whimpered the boy, “you squeeze so hard.” + </p> + <p> + She would have answered, but just then she heard the voices of the + lumbermen scarcely fifty paces away. With a choking sensation and a stitch + in her side she pressed on, crying out in spirit for the hills to hide her + and the mountains to open their gates and receive her. Suddenly she stood + before a rocky wall some eighty or a hundred feet high. She could go no + farther. Her strength was utterly exhausted. There was a big boulder lying + at the base of the rock, and a spreading juniper half covered it. Knowing + that in another minute she would be discovered, she flung herself down + behind the boulder, though the juniper needles scratched her face, and + pulled little Hans down at her side. But, strange to say, little Hans fell + farther than she had calculated, and utterly-vanished from sight. She + heard a muffled cry, and reaching her hand in the direction where he had + fallen, caught hold of his arm. A strong, wild smell beat against her, and + little Hans, as he was pulled out, was enveloped in a most unpleasant + odor. But odor or no odor, here was the very hiding-place she had been + seeking. A deserted wolf’s den, it was, probably—at least she hoped + it was deserted; for if it was not, she might be confronted with even + uglier customers than the lumbermen. But she had no time for debating the + question, for she saw the head of Stubby Mons emerging from the leaves, + and immediately behind him came Stuttering Peter, with his long boat-hook. + Quick as a flash she slipped into the hole, and dragged Hans after her. + The juniper-bush entirely covered the entrance. She could see everyone who + approached, without being seen. Unhappily, the boy too caught sight of + Stubby Mons, and called him by name. The lumberman stopped and pricked up + his ears. + </p> + <p> + “Did you hear anybody call?” he asked his companion. + </p> + <p> + “N-n-n-n-aw, I d-d-d-d-didn’t,” answered Stuttering Peter. “There b-be + lots of qu-qu-qu-qu-eer n-noises in the w-w-w-woods.” + </p> + <p> + Little Hans heard every word that they spoke, and he would have cried out + again, if it hadn’t appeared such great fun to be playing hide-and-go-seek + with the lumbermen. He had a delicious sense of being well hidden, and had + forgotten everything except the zest of the game. Most exciting it became + when Stubby Mons drew the juniper-bush aside and peered eagerly behind the + boulder. Inga’s heart stuck in her throat; she felt sure that in the next + instant they would be discovered. And as ill-luck would have it, there was + something alive scrambling about her feet and tugging at her skirts. + Suddenly she felt a sharp bite, but clinched her teeth, and uttered no + sound. When her vision again cleared, the juniper branch had rebounded + into its place, and the face of Stubby Mons was gone. She drew a deep + breath of relief, but yet did not dare to emerge from the den. For one, + two, three tremulous minutes she remained motionless, feeling all the + while that uncomfortable sensation of living things about her. + </p> + <p> + At last she could endure it no longer. Thrusting little Hans before her, + she crawled out of the hole, and looked back into the small cavern. As + soon as her eyes grew accustomed to the twilight she uttered a cry of + amazement, for out from her skirts jumped a little gray furry object, and + two frisky little customers of the same sort were darting about among the + stones and tree-roots. The truth dawned upon her, and it chilled her to + the marrow of her bones. The wolf’s den was not deserted. The old folks + were only out hunting, and the shouting and commotion of the searching + party had probably prevented them from returning in time to look after + their family. She seized little Hans by the hand, and once more dragged + him away over the rough path. He soon became tired and fretful, and in + spite of all her entreaties began to shout lustily for his father. But the + men were now so far away that they could not hear him. He complained of + hunger; and when presently they came to a blueberry patch, she flung + herself down on the heather and allowed him to pick berries. She heard + cow-bells and sheep-bells tinkling round about her, and concluded that she + could not be far from the saeters, or mountain dairies. That was + fortunate, indeed, for she would not have liked to sleep in the woods with + wolves and bears prowling about her. + </p> + <p> + She was just making an effort to rise from the stone upon which she was + sitting, when the big, good-natured face of a cow broke through the leaves + and stared at her. There was again help in need. She approached the cow, + patted it, and calling little Hans, bade him sit down in the heather and + open his mouth. He obeyed rather wonderingly, but perceived his mother’s + intent when she knelt at his side and began to milk into his mouth. It + seemed to him that he had never tasted anything so delicious as this fresh + rich milk, fragrant with the odor of the woods and the succulent mountain + grass. When his hunger was satisfied, he fell again to picking berries, + while Inga refreshed herself with milk in the same simple fashion. After + having rested a full hour, she felt strong enough to continue her journey; + and hearing the loor, or Alpine horn, re-echoing among the mountains, she + determined to follow the sound. It was singular what luck attended her in + the midst of her misfortune. Perhaps it was, after all, no idle tale that + little Hans was a child of luck; and she had done the lumbermen injustice + in deriding their faith in him. Perhaps there was some guiding Providence + in all that had happened, destined in the end to lead little Hans to + fortune and glory. Much encouraged by this thought, she stooped over him + and kissed him; then took his hand and trudged along over logs and stones, + through juniper and bramble bushes. + </p> + <p> + “Mamma,” said little Hans, “where are you going?” + </p> + <p> + “I am going to the saeter,” she answered; “where you have wanted so often + to go.” + </p> + <p> + “Then why don’t you follow the cows? They are going there too.” + </p> + <p> + Surely that child had a marvellous mind! She smiled down upon him and + nodded. By following the cows they arrived in twenty minutes at a neat + little log cabin, from which the smoke curled up gayly into the clear air. + </p> + <p> + The dairy-maids who spent the summer there tending the cattle both fell + victims to the charms of little Hans, and offered him and his mother their + simple hospitality. They told of the lumbermen who had passed the saeter + huts, and inquired for her; but otherwise they respected her silence, and + made no attempt to pry into her secrets. The next morning she started, + after a refreshing sleep, westward toward the coast, where she hoped in + some way to find a passage to America. For if little Hans was really born + under a lucky star—which fact she now could scarcely doubt—then + America was the place for him. There he might rise to become President, or + a judge, or a parson, or something or other; while in Norway he would + never be anything but a lumberman like his father. Inga had a well-to-do + sister, who was a widow, in the nearest town, and she would borrow enough + money from her to pay their passage to New York. + </p> + <p> + It was early in July when little Hans and his mother arrived in New York. + The latter had repented bitterly of her rashness in stealing her child + from his father, and under a blind impulse traversing half the globe in a + wild-goose chase after fortune. The world was so much bigger than she in + her quiet valley had imagined; and, what was worse, it wore such a cold + and repellent look, and was so bewildering and noisy. Inga had been very + sea-sick during the voyage; and after she stepped ashore from the tug that + brought her to Castle Garden, the ground kept heaving and swelling under + her feet, and made her dizzy and miserable. She had been very wicked, she + was beginning to think, and deserved punishment; and if it had not been + for a vague and adventurous faith in the great future that was in store + for her son, she would have been content to return home, do penance for + her folly, and beg her husband’s forgiveness. But, in the first place, she + had no money to pay for a return ticket; and, secondly, it would be a + great pity to deprive little Hans of the Presidency and all the grandeur + that his lucky star might here bring him. + </p> + <p> + Inga was just contemplating this bright vision of Hans’s future, when she + found herself passing through a gate, at which a clerk was seated. + </p> + <p> + “What is your name?” he asked, through an interpreter. + </p> + <p> + “Inga Olsdatter Pladsen.” + </p> + <p> + “Age?” + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-eight a week after Michaelmas.” + </p> + <p> + “Single or married?” + </p> + <p> + “Married.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is your husband?” + </p> + <p> + “In Norway.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you divorced from him?” + </p> + <p> + “Divorced—I! Why, no! Who ever heard of such a thing?” + </p> + <p> + Inga grew quite indignant at the thought of her being divorced. A dozen + other questions were asked, at each of which her embarrassment increased. + When, finally, she declared that she had no money, no definite + destination, and no relatives or friends in the country, the examination + was cut short, and after an hour’s delay and a wearisome cross-questioning + by different officials, she was put on board the tug, and returned to the + steamer in which she had crossed the ocean. Four dreary days passed; then + there was a tremendous commotion on deck: blowing of whistles, roaring of + steam, playing of bands, bumping of trunks and boxes, and finally the + steady pulsation of the engines as the big ship stood out to sea. After + nine days of discomfort in the stuffy steerage and thirty-six hours of + downright misery while crossing the stormy North Sea, Inga found herself + once more in the land of her birth. Full of humiliation and shame she met + her husband at the railroad station, and prepared herself for a deluge of + harsh words and reproaches. But instead of that he patted her gently on + the head, and clasped little Hans in his arms and kissed him. They said + very little to each other as they rode homeward in the cars; but little + Hans had a thousand things to tell, and his father was delighted to hear + them. In the evening, when they had reached their native valley, and the + boy was asleep, Inga plucked up courage and said, “Nils, it is all a + mistake about little Hans’s luck.” + </p> + <p> + “Mistake! Why, no,” cried Nils. “What greater luck could he have than to + be brought safely home to his father?” + </p> + <p> + Inga had indeed hoped for more; but she said nothing. Nevertheless, fate + still had strange things in store for little Hans. The story of his + mother’s flight to and return from America was picked up by some + enterprising journalist, who made a most touching romance of it. Hundreds + of inquiries regarding little Hans poured in upon the pastor and the + postmaster; and offers to adopt him, educate him, and I know not what + else, were made to his parents. But Nils would hear of no adoption; nor + would he consent to any plan that separated him from the boy. When, + however, he was given a position as superintendent of a lumber yard in the + town, and prosperity began to smile upon him, he sent little Hans to + school, and as Hans was a clever boy, he made the most of his + opportunities. + </p> + <p> + And now little Hans is indeed a very big Hans, but a child of luck he is + yet; for I saw him referred to the other day in the newspapers as one of + the greatest lumber dealers, and one of the noblest, most generous, and + public-spirited men in Norway. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE BEAR THAT HAD A BANK ACCOUNT + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <p> + You may not believe it, but the bear I am going to tell you about really + had a bank account! He lived in the woods, as most bears do; but he had a + reputation which extended over all Norway and more than half of England. + Earls and baronets came every summer, with repeating-rifles of the latest + patent, and plaids and field-glasses and portable cooking-stoves, intent + upon killing him. But Mr. Bruin, whose only weapons were a pair of paws + and a pair of jaws, both uncommonly good of their kind, though not + patented, always managed to get away unscathed; and that was sometimes + more than the earls and the baronets did. + </p> + <p> + One summer the Crown Prince of Germany came to Norway. He also heard of + the famous bear that no one could kill, and made up his mind that he was + the man to kill it. He trudged for two days through bogs, and climbed + through glens and ravines, before he came on the scent of a bear, and a + bear’s scent, you may know, is strong, and quite unmistakable. Finally he + discovered some tracks in the moss, like those of a barefooted man, or, I + should rather say, perhaps, a man-footed bear. The Prince was just turning + the corner of a projecting rock, when he saw a huge, shaggy beast standing + on its hind legs, examining in a leisurely manner the inside of a hollow + tree, while a swarm of bees were buzzing about its ears. It was just + hauling out a handful of honey, and was smiling with a grewsome mirth, + when His Royal Highness sent it a bullet right in the breast, where its + heart must have been, if it had one. But, instead of falling down flat, as + it ought to have done, out of deference to the Prince, it coolly turned + its back, and gave its assailant a disgusted nod over its shoulder as it + trudged away through the underbrush. The attendants ranged through the + woods and beat the bushes in all directions, but Mr. Bruin was no more to + be seen that afternoon. It was as if he had sunk into the earth; not a + trace of him was to be found by either dogs or men. + </p> + <p> + From that time forth the rumor spread abroad that this Gausdale Bruin (for + that was the name by which he became known) was enchanted. It was said + that he shook off bullets as a duck does water; that he had the evil eye, + and could bring misfortune to whomsoever he looked upon. The peasants + dreaded to meet him, and ceased to hunt him. His size was described as + something enormous, his teeth, his claws, and his eyes as being diabolical + beyond human conception. In the meanwhile Mr. Bruin had it all his own way + in the mountains, killed a young bull or a fat heifer for his dinner every + day or two, chased in pure sport a herd of sheep over a precipice; and as + for Lars Moe’s bay mare Stella, he nearly finished her, leaving his + claw-marks on her flank in a way that spoiled her beauty forever. + </p> + <p> + Now Lars Moe himself was too old to hunt; and his nephew was—well, + he was not old enough. There was, in fact, no one in the valley who was of + the right age to hunt this Gausdale Bruin. It was of no use that Lars Moe + egged on the young lads to try their luck, shaming them, or offering them + rewards, according as his mood might happen to be. He was the wealthiest + man in the valley, and his mare Stella had been the apple of his eye. He + felt it as a personal insult that the bear should have dared to molest + what belonged to him, especially the most precious of all his possessions. + It cut him to the heart to see the poor wounded beauty, with those cruel + scratches on her thigh, and one stiff, aching leg done up in oil and + cotton. When he opened the stable-door, and was greeted by Stella’s low, + friendly neighing, or when she limped forward in her box-stall and put her + small, clean-shaped head on his shoulder, then Lars Moe’s heart swelled + until it seemed on the point of breaking. And so it came to pass that he + added a codicil to his will, setting aside five hundred dollars of his + estate as a reward to the man who, within six years, should kill the + Gausdale Bruin. + </p> + <p> + Soon after that, Lars Moe died, as some said, from grief and chagrin; + though the physician affirmed that it was of rheumatism of the heart. At + any rate, the codicil relating to the enchanted bear was duly read before + the church door, and pasted, among other legal notices, in the vestibules + of the judge’s and the sheriff’s offices. When the executors had settled + up the estate, the question arose in whose name or to whose credit should + be deposited the money which was to be set aside for the benefit of the + bear-slayer. No one knew who would kill the bear, or if any one would kill + it. It was a puzzling question. + </p> + <p> + “Why, deposit it to the credit of the bear,” said a jocose executor; + “then, in the absence of other heirs, his slayer will inherit it. That is + good old Norwegian practice, though I don’t know whether it has ever been + the law.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said the other executors, “so long as it is understood who is + to have the money, it does not matter.” + </p> + <p> + And so an amount equal to $500 was deposited in the county bank to the + credit of the Gausdale Bruin. Sir Barry Worthington, Bart., who came + abroad the following summer for the shooting, heard the story, and thought + it a good one. So, after having vainly tried to earn the prize himself, he + added another $500 to the deposit, with the stipulation that he was to + have the skin. + </p> + <p> + But his rival for parliamentary honors, Robert Stapleton, Esq., the great + iron-master, who had come to Norway chiefly to outshine Sir Barry, + determined that he was to have the skin of that famous bear, if any one + was to have it, and that, at all events, Sir Barry should not have it. So + Mr. Stapleton added $750 to the bear’s bank account, with the stipulation + that the skin should come to him. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Bruin, in the meanwhile, as if to resent this unseemly contention + about his pelt, made worse havoc among the herds than ever, and compelled + several peasants to move their dairies to other parts of the mountains, + where the pastures were poorer, but where they would be free from his + depredations. If the $1,750 in the bank had been meant as a bribe or a + stipend for good behavior, such as was formerly paid to Italian brigands, + it certainly could not have been more demoralizing in its effect; for all + agreed that, since Lars Moe’s death, Bruin misbehaved worse than ever. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + There was an odd clause in Lars Moe’s will besides the codicil relating to + the bear. It read: + </p> + <p> + “I hereby give and bequeath to my daughter Unna, or, in case of her + decease, to her oldest living issue, my bay mare Stella, as a token that I + have forgiven her the sorrow she caused me by her marriage.” + </p> + <p> + It seemed incredible that Lars Moe should wish to play a practical joke + (and a bad one at that) on his only child, his daughter Unna, because she + had displeased him by her marriage. Yet that was the common opinion in the + valley when this singular clause became known. Unna had married Thorkel + Tomlevold, a poor tenant’s son, and had refused her cousin, the great + lumber-dealer, Morten Janson, whom her father had selected for a + son-in-law. + </p> + <p> + She dwelt now in a tenant’s cottage, northward in the parish; and her + husband, who was a sturdy and fine-looking fellow, eked out a living by + hunting and fishing. But they surely had no accommodations for a + broken-down, wounded, trotting mare, which could not even draw a plough. + It is true Unna, in the days of her girlhood, had been very fond of the + mare, and it is only charitable to suppose that the clause, which was in + the body of the will, was written while Stella was in her prime, and + before she had suffered at the paws of the Gausdale Bruin. But even + granting that, one could scarcely help suspecting malice aforethought in + the curious provision. To Unna the gift was meant to say, as plainly as + possible, “There, you see what you have lost by disobeying your father! If + you had married according to his wishes, you would have been able to + accept the gift, while now you are obliged to decline it like a beggar.” + </p> + <p> + But if it was Lars Moe’s intention to convey such a message to his + daughter, he failed to take into account his daughter’s spirit. She + appeared plainly but decently dressed at the reading of the will, and + carried her head not a whit less haughtily than was her wont in her maiden + days. She exhibited no chagrin when she found that Janson was her father’s + heir and that she was disinherited. She even listened with perfect + composure to the reading of the clause which bequeathed to her the + broken-down mare. + </p> + <p> + It at once became a matter of pride with her to accept her girlhood’s + favorite, and accept it she did! And having borrowed a side-saddle, she + rode home, apparently quite contented. A little shed, or lean-to, was + built in the rear of the house, and Stella became a member of Thorkel + Tomlevold’s family. Odd as it may seem, the fortunes of the family took a + turn for the better from the day she arrived; Thorkel rarely came home + without big game, and in his traps he caught more than any three other men + in all the parish. + </p> + <p> + “The mare has brought us luck,” he said to his wife. “If she can’t plough, + she can at all events pull the sleigh to church; and you have as good a + right as any one to put on airs, if you choose.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she has brought us blessing,” replied Unna, quietly; “and we are + going to keep her till she dies of old age.” + </p> + <p> + To the children Stella became a pet, as much as if she had been a dog or a + cat. The little boy Lars climbed all over her, and kissed her regularly + good-morning when she put her handsome head in through the kitchen-door to + get her lump of sugar. She was as gentle as a lamb and as intelligent as a + dog. Her great brown eyes, with their soft, liquid look, spoke as plainly + as words could speak, expressing pleasure when she was patted; and the low + neighing with which she greeted the little boy, when she heard his + footsteps in the door, was to him like the voice of a friend. + </p> + <p> + He grew to love this handsome and noble animal as he had loved nothing on + earth except his father and mother. + </p> + <p> + As a matter of course he heard a hundred times the story of Stella’s + adventure with the terrible Gausdale bear. It was a story that never lost + its interest, that seemed to grow more exciting the oftener it was told. + The deep scars of the bear’s claws in Stella’s thigh were curiously + examined, and each time gave rise to new questions. The mare became quite + a heroic character, and the suggestion was frequently discussed between + Lars and his little sister Marit, whether Stella might not be an enchanted + princess who was waiting for some one to cut off her head, so that she + might show herself in her glory. Marit thought the experiment well worth + trying, but Lars had his doubts, and was unwilling to take the risk; yet + if she brought luck, as his mother said, then she certainly must be + something more than an ordinary horse. + </p> + <p> + Stella had dragged little Lars out of the river when he fell overboard + from the pier; and that, too, showed more sense than he had ever known a + horse to have. + </p> + <p> + There could be no doubt in his mind that Stella was an enchanted princess. + And instantly the thought occurred to him that the dreadful enchanted bear + with the evil eye was the sorcerer, and that, when he was killed, Stella + would resume her human guise. It soon became clear to him that he was the + boy to accomplish this heroic deed; and it was equally plain to him that + he must keep his purpose secret from all except Marit, as his mother would + surely discourage him from engaging in so perilous an enterprise. First of + all, he had to learn how to shoot; and his father, who was the best shot + in the valley, was very willing to teach him. It seemed quite natural to + Thorkel that a hunter’s son should take readily to the rifle; and it gave + him great satisfaction to see how true his boy’s aim was, and how steady + his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Father,” said Lars one day, “you shoot so well, why haven’t you ever + tried to kill the Gausdale Bruin that hurt Stella so badly?” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, child! you don’t know what you are talking about,” answered his + father; “no leaden bullet will harm that wicked beast.” + </p> + <p> + “Why not?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t like to talk about it—but it is well known that he is + enchanted.” + </p> + <p> + “But will he then live for ever? Is there no sort of bullet that will kill + him?” asked the boy. + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know. I don’t want to have anything to do with witchcraft,” said + Thorkel. + </p> + <p> + The word “witchcraft” set the boy to thinking, and he suddenly remembered + that he had been warned not to speak to an old woman named Martha Pladsen, + because she was a witch. Now, she was probably the very one who could tell + him what he wanted to know. Her cottage lay close up under the + mountain-side, about two miles from his home. He did not deliberate long + before going to seek this mysterious person, about whom the most + remarkable stories were told in the valley. To his astonishment, she + received him kindly, gave him a cup of coffee with rock candy, and + declared that she had long expected him. The bullet which was to slay the + enchanted bear had long been in her possession; and she would give it to + him if he would promise to give her the beast’s heart. + </p> + <p> + He did not have to be asked twice for that; and off he started gayly with + his prize in his pocket. It was rather an odd-looking bullet, made of + silver, marked with a cross on one side and with a lot of queer illegible + figures on the other. It seemed to burn in his pocket, so anxious was he + to start out at once to release the beloved Stella from the cruel + enchantment. But Martha had said that the bear could only be killed when + the moon was full; and until the moon was full he accordingly had to + bridle his impatience. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. + </h2> + <p> + It was a bright morning in January, and, as it happened, Lars’s fourteenth + birthday. To his great delight, his mother had gone down to the judge’s to + sell some ptarmigans, and his father had gone to fell some timber up in + the glen. Accordingly he could secure the rifle without being observed. He + took an affectionate good-by of Stella, who rubbed her soft nose against + his own, playfully pulled at his coat-collar, and blew her sweet, warm + breath into his face. Lars was a simple-hearted boy, in spite of his age, + and quite a child at heart. He had lived so secluded from all society, and + breathed so long the atmosphere of fairy tales, that he could see nothing + at all absurd in what he was about to undertake. The youngest son in the + story-book always did just that sort of thing, and everybody praised and + admired him for it. Lars meant, for once, to put the story-book hero into + the shade. He engaged little Marit to watch over Stella while he was gone, + and under no circumstances to betray him—all of which Marit solemnly + promised. + </p> + <p> + With his rifle on his shoulder and his skees on his feet, Lars glided + slowly along over the glittering surface of the snow, for the mountain was + steep, and he had to zigzag in long lines before he reached the upper + heights, where the bear was said to have his haunts. The place where Bruin + had his winter den had once been pointed out to him, and he remembered yet + how pale his father was, when he found that he had strayed by chance into + so dangerous a neighborhood. Lars’s heart, too, beat rather uneasily as he + saw the two heaps of stones, called “The Parson” and “The Deacon,” and the + two huge fir-trees which marked the dreaded spot. It had been customary + from immemorial time for each person who passed along the road to throw a + large stone on the Parson’s heap, and a small one on the Deacon’s; but + since the Gausdale Bruin had gone into winter quarters there, the stone + heaps had ceased to grow. + </p> + <p> + Under the great knotted roots of the fir-trees there was a hole, which was + more than half-covered with snow; and it was noticeable that there was not + a track of bird or beast to be seen anywhere around it. Lars, who on the + way had been buoyed up by the sense of his heroism, began now to feel + strangely uncomfortable. It was so awfully hushed and still round about + him; not the scream of a bird—not even the falling of a broken bough + was to be heard. The pines stood in lines and in clumps, solemn, like a + funeral procession, shrouded in sepulchral white. Even if a crow had cawed + it would have been a relief to the frightened boy—for it must be + confessed that he was a trifle frightened—if only a little shower of + snow had fallen upon his head from the heavily laden branches, he would + have been grateful for it, for it would have broken the spell of this + oppressive silence. + </p> + <p> + There could be no doubt of it; inside, under those tree-roots slept + Stella’s foe—the dreaded enchanted beast who had put the boldest of + hunters to flight, and set lords and baronets by the ears for the + privilege of possessing his skin. Lars became suddenly aware that it was a + foolhardy thing he had undertaken, and that he had better betake himself + home. But then, again, had not Witch-Martha said that she had been waiting + for him; that he was destined by fate to accomplish this deed, just as the + youngest son had been in the story-book. Yes, to be sure, she had said + that; and it was a comforting thought. + </p> + <p> + Accordingly, having again examined his rifle, which he had carefully + loaded with the silver bullet before leaving home, he started boldly + forward, climbed up on the little hillock between the two trees, and began + to pound it lustily with the butt-end of his gun. He listened for a moment + tremulously, and heard distinctly long, heavy sighs from within. + </p> + <p> + His heart stood still. The bear was awake! Soon he would have to face it! + A minute more elapsed; Lars’s heart shot up into his throat. He leaped + down, placed himself in front of the entrance to the den, and cocked his + rifle. Three long minutes passed. Bruin had evidently gone to sleep again. + Wild with excitement, the boy rushed forward and drove his skee-staff + straight into the den with all his might. A sullen growl was heard, like a + deep and menacing thunder. There could be no doubt that now the monster + would take him to task for his impertinence. + </p> + <p> + Again the boy seized his rifle; and his nerves, though tense as stretched + bow-strings, seemed suddenly calm and steady. He lifted the rifle to his + cheek, and resolved not to shoot until he had a clear aim at heart or + brain. Bruin, though Lars could hear him rummaging within, was in no hurry + to come out, But he sighed and growled uproariously, and presently showed + a terrible, long-clawed paw, which he thrust out through his door and then + again withdrew. But apparently it took him a long while to get his mind + clear as to the cause of the disturbance; for fully five minutes had + elapsed when suddenly a big tuft of moss was tossed out upon the snow, + followed by a cloud of dust and an angry creaking of the tree-roots. + </p> + <p> + Great masses of snow were shaken from the swaying tops of the firs, and + fell with light thuds upon the ground. In the face of this unexpected + shower, which entirely hid the entrance to the den, Lars was obliged to + fall back a dozen paces; but, as the glittering drizzle cleared away, he + saw an enormous brown beast standing upon its hind legs, with widely + distended jaws. He was conscious of no fear, but of a curious numbness in + his limbs, and strange noises, as of warning shouts and cries, filling his + ears. + </p> + <p> + Fortunately, the great glare of the sun-smitten snow dazzled Bruin; he + advanced slowly, roaring savagely, but staring rather blindly before him + out of his small, evil-looking eyes. Suddenly, when he was but a few yards + distant, he raised his great paw, as if to rub away the cobwebs that + obscured his sight. + </p> + <p> + It was the moment for which the boy had waited. Now he had a clear aim! + Quickly he pulled the trigger; the shot reverberated from mountain to + mountain, and in the same instant the huge brown bulk rolled in the snow, + gave a gasp, and was dead! The spell was broken! The silver bullet had + pierced his heart. There was a curious unreality about the whole thing to + Lars. He scarcely knew whether he was really himself or the hero of the + fairy-tale. + </p> + <p> + All that was left for him to do now was to go home and marry Stella, the + delivered princess. + </p> + <p> + The noises about him seemed to come nearer and nearer; and now they + sounded like human voices. He looked about him, and to his amazement saw + his father and Marit, followed by two wood-cutters, who, with raised axes, + were running toward him. Then he did not know exactly what happened; but + he felt himself lifted up by two strong arms, and tears fell hot and fast + upon his face. + </p> + <p> + “My boy! my boy!” said the voice in his ears, “I expected to find you + dead.” + </p> + <p> + “No, but the bear is dead,” said Lars, innocently. + </p> + <p> + “I didn’t mean to tell on you, Lars,” cried Marit, “but I was so afraid, + and then I had to.” + </p> + <p> + The rumor soon filled the whole valley that the great Gausdale Bruin was + dead, and that the boy Lars Tomlevold had killed him. It is needless to + say that Lars Tomlevold became the parish hero from that day. He did not + dare to confess in the presence of all this praise and wonder that at + heart he was bitterly disappointed; for when he came home, throbbing with + wild expectancy, there stood Stella before the kitchen door, munching a + piece of bread; and when she hailed him with a low whinny, he burst into + tears. But he dared not tell any one why he was weeping. + </p> + <p> + This story might have ended here, but it has a little sequel. The $1,750 + which Bruin had to his credit in the bank had increased to $2,290; and it + was all paid to Lars. A few years later, Martin Janson, who had inherited + the estate of Moe from old Lars, failed in consequence of his daring + forest speculations, and young Lars was enabled to buy the farm at auction + at less than half its value. Thus he had the happiness to bring his mother + back to the place of her birth, of which she had been wrongfully deprived; + and Stella, who was now twenty-one years old, occupied once more her + handsome box-stall, as in the days of her glory. And although she never + proved to be a princess, she was treated as if she were one, during the + few years that remained to her. + </p> + <p> + <a name="linknote-1" id="linknote-1"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 1 (<a href="#linknoteref-1">return</a>)<br /> [ In Norway confirmation is + always preceded by a public examination of the candidates in the aisle of + the church. The order in which they are arranged is supposed to indicate + their attainments, but does, as a rule, indicate the rank and social + position of their parents.] + </p> + <p> + <a name="linknote-2" id="linknote-2"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 2 (<a href="#linknoteref-2">return</a>)<br /> [ Norwegian snow-shoes.] + </p> + <p> + <a name="linknote-3" id="linknote-3"> + <!-- Note --></a> + </p> + <p class="foot"> + 3 (<a href="#linknoteref-3">return</a>)<br /> [ The genius of cattle, + represented as a beautiful maiden disfigured by a heifer’s tail, which she + is always trying to hide, though often unsuccessfully.] + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s Boyhood in Norway, by Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BOYHOOD IN NORWAY *** + +***** This file should be named 784-h.htm or 784-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/8/784/ + +Produced by Charles Keller, and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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