Part 36

“You must pardon me for what I have done,” he said to the two young officers. “I had strong suspicions that that great spotted creature was a mother; did I tell you she was spotted? Oh, I saw her plainly, but I could not get a good look at the young ones, and, as for the _friend_, I had not seen him at all. I have often been told that the mother brings into her winter’s refuge a young _wicked one_, who is neither the father of her little ones, nor even a relative of the family, to defend and bring up her children, in case she should be killed. Never having seen this, I hadn’t much faith in it; now, having seen it, I believe it. If I had known as much before, I should have brought two of you, so that each might have killed a fine animal; but who could have expected such a thing? Not thinking to shoot, I only took my gun by way of precaution, in case the Herr I was going with should miss fire, and find himself in danger. As for the iron-shod boar-spear, I had so little idea of using it, that I did not even look to see whether the one I took was in good condition. Well then,” continued the danneman, addressing Christian, “this is what happened. I told you that I would return for you as soon as I had posted the others, and as soon as this was done I intended to go straight back where I had left you. But some beast must have disturbed the marks I made last night; for, without getting lost exactly, I passed directly before the den, and did not recognize where I was, until it was too late to draw back. The _wicked one_ heard me, and she came against me, because she had young ones. I tried to frighten her by waving my arm, so as to make her return to her house, but she would not be frightened, she rose on her hind legs. I ripped her open; I had to do it, and at the same time I called twice. At the sound of my voice the _friend_ came to the door of the house, and, to keep him from escaping, I ran and stood before it, without remembering that my boar-spear was lying broken by the mother. I thought she was dead, but after I was standing there she rose up, fell down, and rose up again, twice. Then, Herr Christian, the time seemed very long to me before you arrived; for, on the one side I had the mother, who, at any moment, might recover strength enough to throw herself upon me, and, on the other, the _friend_, who was only waiting for this reinforcement to begin a quarrel with me himself, without counting the two young ones, who I knew very well would be between my legs as soon as the fight should be begun. Against all that I had only one gun-shot, and that was not enough! I did not even dare take aim; for, at the sight of a weapon aimed, the _wicked ones_ come to the point more quickly. I was frightened; I can acknowledge it now without shame, since I did not stir a foot, and since the four creatures are in our hands. I waited for you--it seemed to me that I waited a year--and yet I believe you came very quickly, Herr Christian, since all has turned out so well--yes, very well indeed, I declare, and you are a brave man! I am sorry there should have been any angry words between us beforehand. But it is all forgotten; it is not my life only that I owe you, but my heart, just as much. Come and embrace me, and remember that I look upon you as my son.”

Christian embraced the Dalecarlian with deep emotion, and the latter related to the rest of the party how, after quickly despatching the she-bear, body to body, the young man had killed the _friend_ very opportunely, by lodging a ball in his head, at only two inches from his, Bœtsoi’s, face. Christian objected modestly to the danneman’s exaggeration upon this latter point; but as Bœtsoi, in his enthusiasm, would not abate a jot from his statement, and as there were no means of proving the facts, the exploit of the young adventurer assumed colossal proportions in the imagination of Larrson and his friends. Their esteem for him increased accordingly, and this is not at all surprising. Presence of mind is the highest faculty of true courage. We pity those who fail, but we admire those who succeed. Without being betrayed into self-admiration, Christian felt a deep satisfaction at having acquired a claim to the friendship of the danneman, whom he persisted henceforth in regarding as his near relative; but he was very careful not to return to his imprudent questions. He resolved to seek the truth elsewhere, even if it should require a great deal of time and patience to arrive at it.

The weight of the two dead bears, especially that of the female, was enormous; together, they weighed more than four hundred pounds. To drag them over that rough country, where it was with difficulty that you could make your own way, seemed impossible. Even horses could not have accomplished it. As the day had reached its meridian, and as the young officers wanted to join the baron’s hunt, they found themselves embarrassed with too much riches. Even the cubs, who refused to walk, were very much in the way.

“Go along with you,” said the danneman; “with my children I will soon fell two or three young trees, and build a hurdle; we will put the bears on that, and slide it along to my house. From there, I will send them to you by my sleigh and horse; they shall be at your bostoelle in two hours, so that you can show them to your friends.”

“And we will return the dead animals to you to-morrow,” said Larrson, “for we would not trust any one else to skin and prepare them. Is not that your wish, Christian?”

“Whatever pleases you is agreeable to me,” replied Christian.

“Not at all!” the major rejoined; “the bear we purchased from the danneman is the one you have just killed. It belongs to you, as the one he shot belongs to him, unless he is willing to sell it.”

“He killed them both,” said Christian; “I did nothing but finish his work; I have no right to anything.”

An animated discussion followed, in which the danneman vied with his guests in delicacy, and showed that he was as scrupulously honest as themselves. At last Christian was obliged to yield, and to accept the she-bear as his prize. The two cubs were purchased from the danneman at the price of one bear, and he was obliged to accept, as exclusively his own, the friend of Madame Bear. Matters being thus arranged, the major and his friends wanted to carry Christian away with them, but he declined.

“I have no wish to go to the baron’s hunt,” he said; “you yourselves told me that it is not at all interesting in comparison with this one, and, besides, I have no time. Remember that for two days more I am bound by contract to keep on with my present business. I will remain here and help the danneman carry away the _wicked ones_, after which I will avail myself of his sleigh, to return as far as the lake. Do not forget that you have promised M. Goefle and myself to come and see us at Stollborg.”

“We will go after supper, when the comedy is over,” replied the major; “you can rely upon us.”

“And I,” said the danneman to Christian, “will guarantee that you shall reach the lake before night.”

They had not much time to lose. The officers returned to their country sleighs, and the danneman, assisted by Christian, and also by his son Olof, and his eldest daughter, who now joined them, proceeded, with great skill and quickness, to the building of his hand-sledge. When completed, and loaded with the game, they slid it along without difficulty, some drawing, and the others pushing or holding it back, until they reached the chalet.

As soon as they arrived, Christian looked for the seeress. The curtain of the bed was drawn and motionless. Was she still there? He longed to see this mysterious woman again, and to try and talk to her, but he dared not approach her bed. He imagined that the danneman kept his eye upon him, and that he would have been greatly displeased by any appearance of curiosity.

The youngest of the danneman’s daughters brought some brandy, made in the house; that famous corn-brandy, whose manufacture Gustavus III. afterwards made a state monopoly, thus burdening his subjects with a heavy and vexatious tax, that robbed him of all his popularity, and reduced to their former poverty the very people whom he had freed from the tyranny of the nobles. Is the frequent use of brandy really a necessity in these rigorous climates? Christian thought not, and his opinion was strengthened by the fact that this special beverage, which the danneman had made with his own hands, and of which he was very proud, was so strong as literally to take the skin off the throat. The worthy man urged his guest to drink copiously; he could not understand that he should not feel the necessity of getting a little intoxicated, after killing two bears. But Christian could not carry his good-nature so far as that. He would have been very well pleased to have had strength and coolness enough to get Bœtsoi drunk, without losing his own head; but, as it was, he confined himself to drinking some tea, left for him by the major, and served hot, in a wooden cup, very tastefully cut and carved by the youthful Olof.

The young man was a little mortified at having enjoyed the royal pleasure of killing a bear at the expense of his friends; for, in a word, this bear was the property of the danneman, as all game belongs, without question, to the person who finds it on his lands. They had made Christian a present of his prize; that is, they had purchased it for him. He learned with pleasure from the danneman that it was not yet paid for. The major and his friends, not foreseeing that the hunt would be so successful, had not brought money enough. Christian inquired the price of the animal.

“That depends upon circumstances,” said the danneman, proudly; “if you leave me the beast, as is sometimes done, it is simply a ‘thank you,’ which I owe the person who helped me slay him; but, no doubt, Herr Christian, you will want the skin, the claws, the fat, and the legs.”

“I don’t want any of them at all,” said Christian, laughing. “Good heavens! what should I do with them? I beg you to keep the whole animal, Herr Bœtsoi, and, as I presume you have the right to sell rather dearer to those who have enjoyed the privilege of hunting on your land than you would do to customers purchasing plainly and simply a commodity, I beg you to accept thirty dalers that I have about me--”

Christian finished his sentence mentally:

“And which is all that I possess.”

“Thirty dalers!” cried the danneman, “that is a great deal. You are very rich, then?”

“I am rich enough to beg you to accept them.”

The danneman took the money, looked at it, and then looked at Christian’s hands, but without noticing anything but their whiteness.

“Your gold is good,” he said, “and your hand is white. You are not a laborer, and yet you eat kakebroe like a Dalecarlian. Your face belongs to this country, and your speech does not,--the clothes you had on when you came here, were no better than mine. I can see one thing, anyhow, and that is that you are proud; you don’t wish your friends, who gave up, for your sake, the pleasure of killing the bear, to spend their money for you.”

“Precisely, Herr Bœtsoi, you are right.”

“Have no fear. Joë Bœtsoi is an honest man; he will not take anything from your friends, since you leave him the game. As to accepting a reward from you--that depends. Can you swear to me, on your honor, that you are a rich young man, the child of a noble family?”

“What difference does it make?” said Christian.

“No, no,” resumed the danneman, “you have saved my life; I don’t say much about that, for I would have done as much for you; but you are a skilful marksman, and still more, you are a man who can listen to another. When I made you a sign over yonder, if you had not been willing to do what I wished, we should both of us have been in a bad way--and I especially, without my boar-spear, and with my arm not well wrapped up. I am very much pleased with you, and I only wish that my son was like you in looks and character, for you are both brave and gentle. So, if you are not rich, don’t pretend to me that you are. Why should you? I am not poor myself. In my plain house, such as it is, I want for nothing; and if you are in any need you can apply to Joë Bœtsoi. He would have no trouble at all in finding thirty dalers, or even a hundred, to render a service to a friend.”

“I am sure of it, Herr Bœtsoi,” said Christian, “and I may possibly return to you (and if I do it will be with entire confidence), not to ask you for a hundred or for thirty dalers, but to beg you to give me employment. I don’t say this is certain, but it may happen, and in that case I should come to you with much more pleasure if I pay you now what I owe you, and what a rich man would pay you. I did not come here in the character of a poor man; you do not owe me anything.”

“I don’t want any payment,” said the danneman; “take back your money, and come to me when you choose. What can you do?”

“Whatever you will teach me, I will do quickly.”

The danneman smiled.

“That is to say,” he said, “that you don’t know how to do anything.”

“I can kill bears, at any rate.”

“Yes, and very well too. You know how to handle an axe also, and to cut wood; I saw that. But would you be able to travel?”

“That is what I can do best of all.”

“Can you sleep on a bench?”

“Yes, or on a stone.”

“Can you speak Laplandish, Samoïede, Russian?”

“No, I can speak Italian, Spanish, French, German and English.”

“That would do me no good, but it shows me that you can learn to speak in various tongues. Very well, come when you choose, before the end of the month of _Thor_ (January), and, if you would like to go to Drontheim, or even farther, I shall be very glad not to travel alone; or, if I should take Olof with me, for he is tormenting me to let him begin to travel, you can look after my house. My two daughters are betrothed, I give you fair warning. Avoid giving their lovers any occasion for jealousy; it would be at your own risk. Take care of Aunt Karine; she is gentle, but she must not be contradicted: I have forbidden it once for all.”

“I will care for her as if she were my mother,” replied Christian, deeply moved; “but tell me, is she ill or infirm? Why?--”

“They will tell you that, if you come to the house. What wages do you want?”

“Nothing.”

“How, nothing?”

“Bread and shelter; is not that enough?”

“Herr Christian,” said the danneman, frowning, “you are then either lazy or a bad fellow, since you do not think of the future.”

Christian saw, that by being too disinterested, he had caused the danneman to distrust him.

“Do you know M. Goefle?” he said.

“The lawyer? Yes, very well; it was I who sold him his horse. He is a good horse, and the lawyer is an honest man!”

“Very good; he will answer for me. Will that be satisfactory?”

“Yes, it is settled. Take back your money.”

“Suppose I should ask you to keep it for me?”

“Why so, is it stolen money?” cried the danneman, becoming suspicious again.

Christian began to laugh, and was obliged to confess that he was a very poor diplomat.

“Believe me,” he said to the danneman, “I am straightforward and sincere. Every one gives me the credit of having an honest face, and I am not accustomed, therefore, to having my word doubted. If you don’t take my thirty dalers to-day, the major will give them to you to-morrow, and that would annoy me.”

“The major will not give me anything, for I will not accept anything,” replied the danneman, with energy. “It is you, now, who are doubting me.”

Christian was obliged to resign the satisfaction of leaving his small fortune in this house, which was perhaps his mother’s refuge. The discussion, though honorable in itself, might have degenerated into a quarrel, for the danneman was feeding his ingenuous pride as a free peasant with rather too plentiful potations of brandy. Besides, the sleigh was ready, and Christian had to start. Nothing would have induced him to fail in either of his two performances, for which he was to receive a hundred dalers; a sum that would enable him to begin the new life he was dreaming about, without being indebted to anybody.

He thought the danneman intended to accompany him; but, instead of getting into the sleigh, he gave the reins to his son, enjoining him at the same time to drive carefully, and to return early.

“I hoped to have the pleasure of your company as far as Waldemora,” said Christian to the danneman.

“No!” replied the latter, “I never go to Waldemora, for my part. I should have to be carried there by force. Farewell, until we meet again.”

There was so much haughtiness and disdain in the danneman’s tone when he spoke of Waldemora, that Christian, as he shook hands with him, felt afraid that he would notice the conformation of his fingers, and that their resemblance to the baron’s, whether accidental or inherited, would destroy all their friendship; but the deformity was so slight that the danneman, with his rough hand, did not notice it at all, and several times, as his guest was driving away, he sent after him a cordial farewell.

In spite of his father’s recommendations, Olof drove his little horse to the bottom of the valley at a full gallop, while he himself stood up on the front seat of the vehicle with the reins twisted round his arms, at the risk of being hurled to a distance in case of an upset, and of having his wrists dislocated, at the very least.

[Footnote 6: It is only very lately that the government in Sweden has taken measures--too late, perhaps--to check these devastations.]

XIV.

THE danneman’s sleigh was not so light as the one in which the major had brought Christian to the chalet, but fortunately it was more solid, for the young Dalecarlian did not condescend to avoid either rock or hole. Instead of allowing the horse--the more intelligent of the two--to go as his instinct should direct, he made the drive, dangerous under any circumstances, blunderingly foolhardy, by whipping and opposing him at every point. Christian, who was lying in the midst of the four bears, two of them dead and two living, said to himself that he would fall softly, unless they should be flung to one side and he to the other. At last, irritated at seeing the danneman’s horse maltreated without any advantage to any one, he took the reins and the whip abruptly, saying to the young lad, in a tone indicating his displeasure, that he preferred driving himself.

Olof was good-natured and gentle; he only put on his terrible airs out of vanity, so as to appear like a man. He began singing a Swedish song, both to amuse himself and to show his companion that he pronounced the mother-tongue more purely than the other members of the family. Remarking this, Christian determined to have a talk with him.

“Why,” said he, “did you not come with us when we went to the hunt? Have you never yet seen a bear erect?”

“Aunt would never let me,” replied the young lad, with a sigh.

“Aunt Karine?”

“There is no other at our house.”

“And you have to do everything she says?”

“Everything.”

“Has she predicted that you would have bad luck?”

“She says that I am too young.”

“She is right, perhaps.”

“It must be so, since she says so.”

“She is a woman, it seems, who knows more than others?”

“She knows everything, since she talks with--”

“With whom does she talk?”

“I must not speak about that; my father will not allow it?”

“Because he is afraid that people will laugh at his sister; but he has no fear of that with me, for he told me to ask her what luck I should have in the hunt.”

“And did she tell you?”

“She did. Where did she learn her science?”

“She learned it where she still learns it: in the waterfalls where girls who have died for love weep, and on the lakes where the men of past times return.”

“She is still able to walk, then?”

“She is not old; she is only fifty.”

“But I thought she was infirm?”

“She can walk quicker and farther than you.”

“Then she is ill just at present, since she remained in bed while we were at breakfast?”

“She is not ill. She is often tired like that, when she has been standing up a long time.”

“I thought she did not work?”

“She does not work; she talks, or she walks; she sings, or she prays; and, whether by night or day, she watches until she drops with fatigue. Then she sleeps so long, that you would think she was dead; but sometimes you are very much surprised, in the morning, when you go to her bed, to find that she is neither there, nor in the house, nor on the mountains, nor anywhere, where any one else can go.”

“And where do you suppose she is, when she disappears in this way?”

“Some say that she goes to Blakulla; but you must not believe them!”

“What is Blakulla? The rendezvous of witches?”

“Yes, the black mountain where those wicked women take the little children whom they steal while they are asleep, and whom they carry to Satan on the horse Skjults, who looks like a flying cow. Then Satan takes and marks them by biting them, either on the forehead or the little fingers, and they keep that mark all their lives. But I know very well why they say that of my aunt Karine.”

“And why?”

“Because a long time ago, before I was born, it seems that she brought a little child to the house, whose fingers had been bitten by the devil. My father would not look at him at first, but in a little while he began to love him, and he says that my aunt is a good Christian, and that all people say of her is false. The pastor finds nothing to blame in her, and he says, since she needs to run about in her sleep, she must be allowed to do so. Besides, she has declared herself, that she would die, and that great misfortunes would happen, if she should be shut up. That is why she goes where she wishes; and my father says it is better not to know where she goes, because she has secrets that she could not help, perhaps, disclosing, if she should be followed and watched.”

“And did no accident ever happen to her while she is walking thus sound asleep?”

“Never; and perhaps she is not really asleep when she walks,--how does any one know? It is certain, anyhow, that we are sometimes three days and three nights without knowing whether she will return, but she always comes back, some time or other; and then, when she has slept and dreamed, she is no longer ill, and she prophesies things that always happen. Stay, this morning--But my father forbade me to repeat it!”

“If you tell me, Olof, it is as if you told these stones.”

“Do you swear on the Bible not to repeat it?”

“I swear on whatever you choose.”

“Well,” replied Olof, who so seldom found any one to talk to in the solitude of his mountain home, that he was quite delighted at securing the attention of the handsome stranger, “this is what she said when she woke up at day-break. ‘The great iarl is going forth to the hunt. To the hunt the iarl and his suite are departing.’ The iarl, you know, is the Baron de Waldemora!”

“Ah, ah! He has really gone hunting. But your aunt may have heard that.”

“Yes, but the rest, you will see: ‘The iarl will leave his soul at the house; at the house he will leave his soul’--wait, wait until I think of the rest;--she sang it--I know the air, the air will remind me of the words.”

And Olof began to sing the oracle to an air that might have brought the devil, in person, to the spot.

“‘And when the iarl shall return to the house, when he returns to the house to rejoin his soul, the soul of the iarl will no longer be there.’”