Part 4
Erlingsen kept a keen and constant look-out upon the fiord. His wife's account of the adventures of the day of his absence made him anxious; and he never went a mile out of sight of home, so vivid in his imagination was the vision of his house burning, and his family at the mercy of pirates.
So came on and passed away the spring of this year at Erlingsen's farm. It soon passed, for spring in Nordland lasts only a month. About the bridges which spanned the falls were little groups of the peasants gathered, mending such as had burst with the floods, or strengthening such as did not seem secure enough for the passage of the herds to the mountain.
During the one busy month of spring, a slight shade of sadness was thrown over the household within by the decline of old Ulla. It was hardly sadness, it was little more than gravity; for Ulla herself was glad to go. Peder knew that he should soon follow, and every one else was reconciled to one who had suffered so long going to her rest.
One day Rolf led Erica to the grave when they knew that no one was there.
"Now," he said, "you know what she who lies there would like us to be settling. She herself said her burial-day would soon be over, and then would come our wedding-day."
"When everything is ready," replied Erica, "we will fix; but not now. There is much to be done--there are many uncertainties."
"What uncertainties? It is often an uncertainty to me, Erica, after all that has happened, whether you mean to marry me at all. There are so many doubts, and so many considerations, and so many fears!"
Erica quietly observed that they had enemies--one deadly enemy not very far off, if nothing were to be said of any but human foes. Rolf declared that he had rather have Hund for a declared enemy than for a companion. Erica understood this very well, but she could not forget that Hund wanted to be houseman in Rolf's stead, and that he desired to prevent their marriage.
"That is the very reason," said Rolf, "why we should marry as soon as we can. Why not fix the day, and engage the pastor while he is here?"
"Because it would hurt Peder's feelings. There will be no difficulty in sending for the pastor when everything is ready. But now, Rolf, that all may go well, do promise not to run into needless danger."
"According to you," said Rolf, smiling, "one can never get out of danger. Where is the use of taking care, if all the powers of earth and air are against us?"
"I am not speaking of Nipen now--(not because I do not think of it)--I am speaking of Hund. Do promise me not to go more than four miles down the fiord. After that, there is a long stretch of precipices, without a single dwelling. There is not a boat that could put off, there is not an eye or an ear that could bear witness what had become of you if you and Hund should meet there."
"I will promise you not to go farther down, while alone, than Vogel islet, unless it is quite certain that Hund and the pirates are far enough off in another direction. I partly think as you do, and as Erlingsen does, that they meant to come for me the night you carried off their boat; so I will be on the watch, and go no farther than where they cannot hurt me."
"Then why say Vogel islet? It is out of all reasonable distance."
"Not to those who know the fiord as I do. I have my reasons, Erica, for fixing that distance and no other; and that far I intend to go, whether my friends think me able to take care of myself or not."
"At least," pleaded Erica, "let me go with you."
"Not for the world, my love." And Erica saw, by his look of horror at the idea of her going, that he felt anything but secure from the pirates. He took her hand, and kissed it again and again, as he said that there was plenty for that little hand to do at home, instead of pulling the oar in the hot sun. "I shall think of you all while I am fishing," he went on. "I shall fancy you making ready for the seater.[2] How happy we shall be, Erica, when we once get to the seater!"
[2] The mountain pasture belonging to a farm is called its seater.
Erica sighed, and pressed her lover's hand as he held hers.
Who was ever happier than Rolf, when abroad in his skiff, on one of the most glorious days of the year! He found his angling tolerably successful near home; but the farther he went the more the herrings abounded, and he therefore dropped down the fiord with the tide, fishing as he receded, till all home objects had disappeared. When he came to the narrow part of the fiord, near the creek which had been the scene of Erica's exploit, Rolf laid aside his rod, with the bright hook that herrings so much admire, to guide his canoe through the currents caused by the approach of the rocks and contraction of the passage; and he then wished he had brought Erica with him, so lovely was the scene. Here and there a clump of dark pines overhung some busy cataract, which, itself overshadowed, sent forth its little clouds of spray, dancing and glittering in the sunlight. A pair of fishing eagles were perched on a high ledge of rock, screaming to the echoes. On went Rolf, beyond the bounds of prudence, as many have done before him. He soon found himself in a still and somewhat dreary region, where there was no motion but of the sea-birds, and of the air which appeared to quiver before the eye, from the evaporation caused by the heat of the sun. Leisurely and softly did Rolf cast his net; and then steadily did he draw it in, so rich in fish, that when they lay in the bottom of the boat, they at once sank it deeper in the water, and checked its speed by their weight.
Rolf then rested awhile. There lay Vogel islet looming in the heated atmosphere. He was roused at length by a shout, and looked towards the point from which it came; and there, in a little harbour of the fiord, a recess which now actually lay behind him--between him and home--lay a vessel; and that vessel he knew, by a second glance, was the pirate-schooner.
Of the schooner itself he had no fear, for there was so little wind that it could not have come out in time to annoy him; but there was the schooner's boat, with five men in it--four rowing and one steering--already in full pursuit of him. He knew, by the general air and native dress of the man at the helm, that it was Hund; and he fancied he heard Hund's malicious voice in the shout which came rushing over the water from their boat to his. How fast they seemed to be coming! How the spray from their oars glittered in the sun; and how their wake lengthened with every stroke! No spectator from the shore (if there had been any) could have doubted that the boat was in pursuit of the skiff, and would snap it up presently. Rolf saw that he had five determined foes, gaining upon him every instant; and yet he was not alarmed. He had had his reasons for thinking himself safe near Vogel islet; and, calculating for a moment the time of the tide, he was quite at his ease. As he took his oars he smiled at the hot haste of his pursuers, and at the thought of the amazement they would feel when he slipped through their fingers; and then he began to row.
Rolf did not over-heat himself with too much exertion. He permitted his foes to gain a little upon him.
When very near the islet, however, he became more active, and his skiff disappeared behind its southern point while the enemy's boat was still two furlongs off. The steersman looked for the reappearance of the canoe beyond the islet; but he looked in vain. He thought, and his companions agreed with him, that it was foolish of Rolf to land upon the islet, where they could lay hands on him in a moment; but they could only suppose he had done this, and prepared to do the same. They rowed quite round the islet; but, to their amazement, they could not only perceive no place to land at, but there was no trace of the canoe. It seemed to them as if those calm and clear waters had swallowed up the skiff and Rolf, in a few minutes after they had lost sight of him. Hund thought the case was accounted for, when he recalled Nipen's displeasure.
The rowers wondered, questioned, uttered shouts, spoke all together, and then looked at Hund in silence, struck by his countenance; and finished by rowing two or three times round the islet, slowly, and looking up its bare rocky sides, which rose like walls from the water; but nothing could they see or hear. When tired of their fruitless search they returned to the schooner, ready to report to the master that the fiord was enchanted.
Meantime, Rolf had heard every splash of their oars, and every tone of their voices, as they rowed round his place of refuge. He was not on the islet, but in it. This was such an island as Swein, the sea-king of former days, took refuge in; and Rolf was only following his example. Long before, he had discovered a curious cleft in the rock, very narrow, and all but invisible at high water, even if a bush of dwarf ash and birch had not hung down over it. At high water, nothing larger than a bird could go in and out beneath the low arch; but there was a cavern within, whose sandy floor sloped up to some distance above high-water mark. In this cavern was Rolf. He had thrust his little skiff between the walls of rock, crushing in its sides as he did so. The bushes drooped behind him, hanging naturally over the entrance as before. Rolf pulled up his broken vessel upon the little sandy beach within the cave; saved a pile of his fish, and returned a good many to the water; and then sat down upon the sea-weeds to listen. There was no light but a little which found its way through the bushy screen, and up from the green water; and the sounds--the tones of the pirates' voices, and the splash of the waters against the rocky walls of his singular prison--came deadened and changed to his ear. Yet he heard enough to be aware how long his enemies remained, and when they were really gone.
It was a prison indeed, as Rolf reflected when he looked upon his broken skiff. He could not imagine how he was to get away; for his friends would certainly never think of coming to look for him here; but he put off the consideration of this point for the present, and turned away from the image of Erica's distress when he should fail to return. He amused himself now with imagining Hund's disappointment, and the reports which would arise from it; and he found this so very entertaining that he laughed aloud; and then the echo of his laughter sounded so very merry that it set him laughing again. This, in its turn, seemed to rouse the eider-ducks that thronged the island and their clatter and commotion was so great overhead, that any spectator might have been excused for believing that Vogel islet was indeed bewitched.
Rolf turned his boat about and about, and shook his head over every bruise, hole, or crack that he found, till he finished with a nod of decision that nothing could be done with it. He was a good swimmer; but the nearest point of the shore was so far off that it would be all he could do to reach it when the waters were in their most favourable state. At present, they were so chilled with the melted snows that were pouring down from every steep along the fiord, that he doubted the safety of attempting to swim at all. What chance of release had he then?
If he could by any means climb upon the rocks, in whose recesses he was now hidden, he might possibly fall in with some fishing-boat which would fetch him off; but, besides that the pirates were more likely to see him than anybody else, he believed there was no way by which he could climb upon the islet. It had always been considered the exclusive property of the aquatic birds with which it swarmed, because its sides rose so abruptly from the water, so like the smooth stone walls of a lofty building that there was no hold for foot or hand, and the summit seemed unattainable by anything that had not wings. Rolf remembered, however, having heard Peder say that when he was young, there might be seen hanging down one part of the precipice the remains of a birchen ladder, which must have been made and placed there by human hands. Rolf determined that he would try the point. He would wait till the tide was flowing in, as the waters from the open sea were somewhat less chilled than when returning from the head of the fiord:--he would take the waters at their warmest, and try and try again to make a footing upon the islet.
His cave was really a very pretty place. The golden light which blesses the high and low places of the earth did not disdain to cheer and adorn even this humble chamber, which the waters had patiently scooped out of the hard rock. As the sun drew to its setting, near the middle of the Nordland summer night, it levelled its golden rays through the cleft, and made the place far more brilliant than at noon. The beach suddenly appeared of a more dazzling white, and the waters of a deeper green, while, by their motion, they cast quivering circles of reflected light upon the roof, which had before been invisible. Rolf had supposed, from the pleasant freshness of the air, that the cave was lofty; and he now saw that the roof did indeed spring up to a vast height. He saw also that there was a great deal of driftwood accumulated; and some of it thrown into such distant corners as to prove that the waves could dash up to a much higher water-line, in stormy weather, than he had supposed. No matter! He hoped to be gone before there were any more storms. Tired and sleepy as he was, so near midnight, he made an exertion, while there was plenty of light, to clear away the sea-weeds from a space on the sand where he must to-morrow make his fire and broil his fish. The smell of the smallest quantity of burnt weed would be intolerable in so confined a place; so he cleared away every sprout of it, and laid some of the drift-wood on a spot above high-water mark, picking out the driest pieces of firewood he could find for kindling a flame.
When this was done, he made haste to heap up a bed of fine dry sand in a corner; and here he lay down as the twilight darkened. For this one night he could rest without any very painful thoughts of poor Erica; for she was prepared for his remaining out till the middle of the next day, at least.
When he awoke in the morning, the scene was marvellously changed. His cave was so dim that he could scarcely distinguish its white floor from its rocky sides. The water was low, and the cleft therefore enlarged; so that he saw at once that now was the time for making his fire--now when there was the freest access for the air. Yet he could not help pausing to admire what he saw. He could see now a long strip of the fiord--a perspective of waters and of shores, ending in a lofty peak still capped with snow, and glittering in the sunlight. He began to sing, while rubbing together, with all his might, the dry sticks of fir with which his fire was to be kindled. First they smoked, and then, by a skilful breath of air, they blazed, and set fire to the heap; and by the time the herrings were ready for broiling, the cave was so filled with smoke that Rolf's singing was turned to coughing.
Some of the smoke hung in soot on the roof and walls of the cave, curling up so well at first that Rolf almost thought there must be some opening in the lofty roof which served as a chimney. But there was not; and some of the smoke came down again, issuing at last from the mouth of the cave. Rolf observed this; and, seeing the danger of his place of retreat being thus discovered, he made haste to finish his cookery, resolving that, if he had to remain here for any length of time, he would always make his fire in the night. He presently threw water over his burning brands, and hoped that nothing had been seen of the process of preparing his breakfast.
The smoke had been seen, however, and by several people; but in such a way as to lead to no discovery of the cave. From the schooner, Hund kept his eyes fixed on the islet, at every moment he had to spare. Either he was the murderer of his fellow-servant, or the islet was bewitched; and if Rolf was under the protection and favour of the powers of the region, he, Hund, was out of favour, and might expect bad consequences. Whichever might be the case, Hund was very uneasy; and he could think of nothing but the islet, and look no other way. His companions had at first joked him about his luck in getting rid of his enemies; but, being themselves superstitious, they caught the infection of his gravity, and watched the spot almost as carefully as he.
As their vessel lay higher up in the fiord than the islet, they were on the opposite side from the crevice, and could not see from whence the smoke issued. But they saw it in the form of a light cloud hanging over the place. Hund's eyes were fixed upon it, when one of his comrades touched him on the shoulder. Hund started.
"You see there," said the man, pointing.
"To be sure I do. What else was I looking at?"
"Well, what is it?" inquired the man. "Has your friend got a visitor--come a great way this morning? They say the mountain-sprite travels in mist. If so, it is now going. See, there it sails off--melts away. It is as like common smoke as anything that ever I saw. What say you to taking the boat, and trying again whether there is no place where your friend might not land, and be now making a fire among the birds' nests?"
"Nonsense!" cried Hund. "What became of the skiff, then?"
"True," said the man; and, shaking his head, he passed on, and spoke to the master.
In his own secret mind, the master of the schooner did not quite like his present situation. After hearing the words dropped by his crew, he did not relish being stationed between the bewitched islet and the head of the fiord, where all the residents were, of course, enemies. As there was now a light wind, enough to take his vessel down, he gave orders accordingly.
Slowly, and at some distance, the schooner passed the islet, and all on board crowded together to see what they could see. None saw anything remarkable; but all heard something. There was a faint muffled sound of knocks--blows such as were never heard in a mere haunt of sea-birds. It was evident that the birds were disturbed by it. They rose and fell, made short flights and came back again, fluttered, and sometimes screamed. But if they were quiet for a minute, the knock, knock, was heard again, with great regularity, and every knock went to Hund's heart.
The fact was that, after breakfast, Rolf soon became tired of having nothing to do. The water was so very cold that he deferred till noon the attempt to swim round the islet. He thought he had better try to mend his little craft than do nothing. After collecting from the wood in the cave all the nails that happened to be sticking in it, and all the pieces that were sound enough to patch a boat with, he made a stone serve him for a hammer, straightened his nails upon another stone, and tried to fasten on a piece of wood over a hole. It was discouraging work enough; but it helped to pass the hours till the restless waters reached their highest mark in the cave, when he knew that it was noon, and time for his little expedition.
It was too cold by far for safe swimming. All the snows of Sulitelma could hardly have made the waters more chilly to the swimmer than they felt at the first plunge. But Rolf would not retreat for this reason. He thought of the sunshine outside, and of the free open view he should enjoy, dived beneath the almost closed entrance, and came up on the other side. The first thing he saw was the schooner, now lying below his island, and the next thing was a small boat between him and it, evidently making towards him. When convinced that Hund was one of the three men in it, he saw that he must go back, or make haste to finish his expedition. He made haste, swam round so close as to touch the warm rock in many places, and could not discover, any more than before, any trace of a footing by which a man might climb to the summit. There was a crevice or two, however, from which vegetation hung, still left unsearched. He could not search them now, for he must make haste home.
The boat was indeed so near when he had reached the point he set out from, that he used every effort to conceal himself; and it seemed that he could only have escaped by the eyes of his enemies being fixed on the summit of the rock. When once more in the cave he rather enjoyed hearing them come nearer and nearer, so that the bushes which hung down between him and them shook with the wind of their oars, and dipped into the waves. He laughed silently when he heard one of them swear that he would not leave the spot till he had seen something, upon which another rebuked his presumption. Presently a voice, which he knew to be Hund's, called upon his name, at first gently, and then more and more loudly, as if taking courage at not being answered.
"I will wait till he rounds the point," thought Rolf, "and then give him such an answer as may send a guilty man away quicker than he came."
He waited till they were on the opposite side, so that his voice might appear to come from the summit of the islet, and then began with the melancholy sound used to lure the plover on the moors. The men in the boat instantly observed that this was the same sound used when Erlingsen's boat was spirited away from them. It was rather singular that Rolf and Oddo should have used the same sound; but they probably chose it as the most mournful they knew. Rolf moaned louder and louder, till the sound resembled the bellowing of a tormented spirit enclosed in the rock; and the consequence was, as he had said, that his enemies retreated faster than they came.
For the next few days Rolf kept a close watch upon the proceedings of the pirates, and saw enough of their thievery to be able to lay information against them, if ever he should again make his way to a town or village, and see the face of a magistrate. The worst of it was that the season for boating was nearly at an end. The inhabitants were day by day driving their cattle up the mountains, there to remain for the summer; and the heads of families remained in the farmhouses almost alone, and little likely to put out so far into the fiord as to pass near him. To drive off thoughts of his poor distressed Erica, he sometimes hammered a little at his skiff; but it was too plain that no botching that he could perform in the cave would render the broken craft safe to float in.
One sunny day, when the tide was flowing in warmer than usual, Rolf amused himself with more evolutions in bathing than he had hitherto indulged in. He forgot his troubles and his foes in diving, floating, and swimming. As he dashed round a point of a rock, he saw something, and was certain he was seen. Hund appeared at least as much bewitched as the islet itself, for he could not keep away from it. He seemed irresistibly drawn to the scene of his guilt and terror. Here he was now, with one other man, in the schooner's smallest boat. Rolf had to determine in an instant what to do; for they were within a hundred yards, and Hund's starting eyes showed that he saw what he took for the ghost of his fellow-servant. Rolf raised himself as high as he could out of the water, throwing his arms up above his head, fixed his eyes on Hund, uttered a shrill cry, and dived, hoping to rise to the surface at some point out of sight. Hund looked no more. After one shriek of terror and remorse had burst from his white lips, he sank his head upon his knee and let his comrade take all the trouble of rowing home again.