Giants in the earth

I

DURING the first days of October a few white, downy snowflakes hung quivering in the air ... floated about ... fell in great oscillating circles. They seemed headed for nowhere; they followed no common course; but finally they reached the ground and disappeared.

The air cleared again. There came a drowsy, sun-filled interval ... nothing but golden haze ... quiet bereft of all life....

The sun had no strength these days. It peeped out in the morning, glided across the sky as before, yet life it had not until toward evening, as it was nearing the western rim of the prairie. Then it awoke, grew big and blushing, took on a splendour which forced everyone to stop and look; the western sky foamed and flooded with a wanton richness of colour, which ran up in streams to meet the coming night. Folks would walk about in the evenings speaking in low tones.... Never in their lives had they seen such sunsets!...

... Day after day the same ... evening after evening. Strangely still the days ... the evenings more mysteriously quiet. How could one lift one’s voice against such silence!...

Then one morning—October was nearly passed—the sun could not get his eye open at all; the heavens rested close above the plain, grey, dense, and still. The chill of this greyness drove through the air though no wind stirred. People went indoors to put on more clothes, came out again, but froze worse than ever.... Bleak, grey, God-forsaken, the empty desolation stretched on every hand....

Sometime in the afternoon snowflakes began to fall. They came sailing down from the north until the air was a close-packed swarm of greyish-white specks, all bound in the same direction. The evening was short-lived that day, and died in a pitch-black night that weighed down the heart....

... Again day came, and brought no other light than that which the greyish-white specks gave.... All that day the snow fell—all the next night....

At last it grew light once more—but the day had no sun. A cold wind howled about the huts—left them, and tore down into the white snow blanket, shaking out of it blinding swirls.... The swirls vanished and reappeared—died down, flared up again and tore on.... New ones constantly rose ... many....

II

Per Hansa and his boys worked like firebrands during the last days before winter set in. Every task that came to their hands delighted them; they went from one fairy tale into the next—came out again, and there was a new one at hand; they gave themselves no peace, either by night or by day.... But Beret could not share their mood; she would watch them absently as they left the house; or when they were due to return, she would wander about with And-Ongen on her arm, looking for them through the window, and keeping a hot dish in readiness on the stove. They were sure to be cold, poor fellows!... Then when they were seated around the table, wrapped up in all their remarkable experiences, the talk would jump from one incident to another, and she would find herself unable to follow it. Their liveliness and loud laughter only drove her heavy thoughts into a still deeper darkness.

She had to admit, however, that Per Hansa could accomplish the most marvellous things; she could not imagine where he had learned it all.... There were the walls, for example, of which he himself was especially proud, and which Store-Hans never tired of admiring. He had begun work on these walls immediately after he had returned from the trip east to the Hallings’ with the potatoes. The lime had been mixed according to directions, and spread over the walls—three coats of it, no less; now the sod hut shone so brightly inside that it dazzled the eyes.... Before the snow came, Beret thought it delightful to have such walls; but after there was nothing but whiteness outside—pure whiteness as far as the eye could see and the thought could reach—she regretted that he had touched them. Her eyes were blinded wherever she looked, either outdoors or indoors; the black-brown earthen floor was the only object on which she could rest them comfortably; and so she always looked down now, as she sat in the house. But hint at it, and thus ruin his pleasure, she could not.... And it really didn’t matter much to her; she would endure it for the brief time that remained!...

She was thankful enough, though, for all the fine fish that he had brought home. Per Hansa had taken both boys with him on the great expedition east to the Sioux River; there they had made a tremendous catch with the help of the net, and Per Hansa had talked with the Trönders about many extraordinary things, and had gained much valuable information.... Heaps of frozen fish now lay outside all along the wall; Per Hansa explained to her what a God-send it was that the snow finally had come. Hm! Good Heavens! If it hadn’t come soon he would have been obliged to go out and get it! Now he was spared that trouble; with the aid of the snowdrifts they could have fresh fish through the whole winter.... “Hey, woman!” he said with a laugh, whenever she complained of how desolate it was since the snow had come. “Can’t you understand that we could never manage things without the snow?... Hey, wife—white and fine, both outdoors and indoors!... Wonder if something couldn’t be done to the floor, too?” ...

Now it came to light what had been working in Per Hansa’s mind when he had bought all that salt; he salted down quantities of the fish, and packed them away in all the vessels they could spare.

But in the opinion of the boys, the duck hunt with the net was the crowning adventure. Never had there been such an enthusiastic party; the father was almost the worst of the three! Now the great secret of his planning and scheming over the ducks was revealed. While Store-Hans and his brother had only talked about capturing them and wondered what could be done, Per Hansa had figured out every detail in his mind; if the ducks got the best of him on one tack, he would fool them on another; into the net somehow they must go!... For three nights they had all stayed out in the swamps to the westward, toiling and fighting among the myriads of birds; in the morning they would come home after daylight, wet as crows, numb all over, and blue in the face with cold. But they always brought a catch!... As soon as the evening came they would be off again.

Each time Beret pleaded sadly, both by word and glance, for them to stay at home.... They would wear themselves out this way. What could they possibly do with all these fowl? Just wait and see; they might not need so much food—something might happen.... The boys only laughed at these objections; their mother sounded just like Sofie; probably all women were alike—they had no sense. Just imagine such a ridiculous idea—catch no more birds!... The father joined in with them and poked mild fun at the mother. How silly it would be not to grab good food when it lay right at their door! Suppose the swamps were to freeze up to-night? And after they had picked the ducks, there would be fine feather beds for both herself and Little Per!... Per Hansa’s voice softened.... And besides, there was no more delicate fare than those ducks on any king’s table!...

But she would not be carried along.... “We won’t need them!” she said, dispiritedly ... and fell into silence.

Dusk settled, the menfolk left—and she was alone with the child again.

---

But at last winter shut down in earnest; the swamps froze up and duck hunting came to an end for that year.

“I think we ought to carry some soup meat to our neighbours,” said Per Hansa.... “This time it’ll be something better than badger stew!” ...

Every person in the little settlement had been rushed with work during the last days before Father Winter came. They all had a feeling that he wasn’t very far away, that old fellow, and thought it best to be well prepared to receive him. Hans Olsa, Tönseten, and the Solum boys had been east to the Sioux River again for wood; they had made two trips, and home had seen very little of them lately. Few visits had been made; everyone had been busy with his own affairs.... For other reasons than this, visitors came but seldom to Per Hansa’s now; there was something queer about the woman in that place; she said so little; at times people felt that they were unwelcome there. She was apt to break out suddenly with some remark that they could only wonder at; they hardly knew whether to be surprised or offended.

But on the day when the boys carried a gift of ducks to all the houses in the neighbourhood, proud of the dainty food they brought, and relating what sounded like a fairy tale, everyone went over to Per Hansa’s to learn how he had gone about catching these birds. For Ole and Store-Hans wouldn’t tell, though they plied them with questions.... The Solum boys came first, with Tönseten and Kjersti hard upon their heels; last of all came Hans Olsa and Sörine.

Once inside, they completely forgot their curiosity about the duck hunting; they stood with their mouths open, looking up one wall and down the next.

... Why ... why ... what in the wide world was this? Had they plastered snow on the walls? Sam thought it really was snow, and touched it gingerly with his finger.... What was it, anyway? Could it possibly be paint?... My stars, how fine it looked!... Per Hansa sat there, sucking his pipe and enjoying his little triumph; it seemed to him that he had never liked his neighbours so well as at this moment.... Beret went about listening quietly; in her face was a troubled expression. Not for all the world would she have had the work on the walls undone!...

Amazement was universal.... Sörine smiled in her pleasant, kindly way; she went over to Beret and said with warm sympathy:

“Now you certainly have got a fine house!... You’ll thrive all the better for it.” ... At that, she began to help her with the work. But Kjersti, with an emphatic slap on her thigh, voiced it as her opinion that it was a dirty shame that she and Sörrina had picked up such poor sticks for husbands! Why couldn’t they ever hatch up some nice scheme? Why was Per Hansa the only man among them with his head on the right end? Yes, they certainly ought to feel ashamed of themselves, sitting there!... Tönseten took offence at this; he felt constrained to remind her that he was the fellow who had risen to the occasion and captured the Sognings! She’d better remember that; for what would have become of them all in the long run if the Sognings hadn’t joined them?... “And I don’t exactly see what this new notion of Per Hansa’s is really good for,” he spluttered on. “It’s getting to be so damned swell in here that pretty soon a fellow can’t even spit!” ... Tönseten looked accusingly at Beret; it was from her that Per Hansa got these stuck-up airs. She was never willing to be like plain folks, that woman!... The Solum boys took great delight in the white walls; this was really beautiful. When they got married they would do the very same thing!

Hans Olsa sucked his pipe and said but little. This seemed very queer to him; he turned it over and over in his mind, but couldn’t solve the problem. Was this like Per Hansa, who had always confided everything to him?... But here he was going about doing everything alone! When he had learned how a black earthen wall could be made shining white at so small a cost, why hadn’t he told the others? There was so little cheer out here; they all sorely needed to share whatever they found.... The big, rugged features were very sober; he had to look hard at Per Hansa. No, it was the same good-natured face that one liked so well to have near by! This affair was just one of his many pranks; the longer Hans Olsa gazed at his neighbour, the more plausible grew this solution inside that big head of his.

Awhile later, as the two men stood together outside the door, watching the falling snow, he said, quietly:

“You have made it pretty fine inside, Per Hansa; but He Who is now whitening the outside of your walls does fully as well.... You shouldn’t be vain in your own strength, you know!”

“Oh, nonsense, Hans Olsa!” laughed Per Hansa. “What are you prating about?... Here, take along a couple more ducks for Sörrina!” ...

III

It was well enough that winter had come at last, thought Per Hansa; he really needed to lay off and rest awhile. After a good square meal of ducks or fresh fish, he would light his pipe and stretch himself, saying:

“Ha!—now we’re really as well off here, my Beret-girl, as anybody could ever wish to be!” ... He did not always expect an answer, and seldom got one. Then he would throw himself on the bed and take a good after-dinner nap, often sleeping continuously on into the night.... Life seemed very pleasant now!

In this fashion he spent quite a number of days; the bad weather still held out. Per Hansa continued to do full justice to the fare. When he had eaten his fill he would point out again to Beret how well off they were, and go to his couch to sleep the sleep of the righteous. It was almost uncanny—he could never seem to get sleep enough! He slept both day and night; and still he felt the need of more rest.... Now and then he would go to the door to look out at the weather, and glance across toward the neighbours. No ... nothing to do outside—the weather was too beastly! He would come in again, and stretch himself, and yawn....

The days wore on.

Yes, they wore on.... One exactly like the other....

Per Hansa couldn’t grasp the strange contradiction that had begun to impress him; he knew that the days were actually growing shorter—were being shorn more closely by every passing night; but—weren’t they growing longer?

Indeed they were—no question about it! They finally grew so long that he was at a dead loss to find something to do with which to end them. He assured himself that all this leisure was very fine; that he needed to ease up a bit; during the fall he hadn’t spared himself; now it felt like a blessing to sit around and play the gentleman. Times would be strenuous enough for him once more, when spring came with fair weather and his great estate needed to be planted; he would just lay off and rest for a while yet!...

The days only grew longer and longer.

In the end, this enforced idleness began to gall him. The landscape showed a monotonous sameness ... never the slightest change.... Grey sky—damp, icy cold.... Snow fell ... snow flew.... He could only guess now where the huts of Hans Olsa lay. There wasn’t a thing to do outdoors; plenty of wood lay chopped and ready for use; it took but a little while to do the chores.... Beyond this, everything took care of itself outside.

Per Hansa sat by the table, or lay down on the bed when he got tired of sitting up; tried to sleep as long as possible; woke up with a start; turned over and tried to sleep again; rose and sat by the table once more, when he grew weary of lying down.

The days wore on, and yet got nowhere.... Time had simply come to a standstill! He had never seen the like; this was worse than the deadest lay-up in Lofoten!

The boys were almost as badly off; they too sat restless and idle; and because they had nothing at all to occupy their minds they often came to blows, so that the father had to interfere.... But he was never very rough with them; poor boys, what else could they find for amusement?... The mother always reminded him of their books.... Yes, of course—certainly they must learn to read, the father said; no heathen were going to grow up in his house! He tried to be stern with them over this matter; but then ... after all, boys were boys, he remembered!

At length he realized that this sort of life could not go on. He didn’t give a hang for the weather—put on his coat and bade the boys do the same; then they went out and attacked the woodpile. They sawed and they chopped; they lugged in wood and piled it up; first they stacked up as much chopped wood as they could stow in the odd corners of the house; then they built a curious little fort of chopped wood out in the yard—very neatly and craftily constructed—and piled it full, too; this work cheered them up and kept their minds occupied, though the weather was bitterly cold and inclement. They toiled at it from early morning until late at night, and hardly took time off to eat their dinner; the boys began to get sick of the job and complained of being tired. The woodpile lasted exactly four days; when they had chopped up the last stick there was nothing left for them to do outside.

Then they sat idle again.

The bad spell of weather held out interminably. A cold, piercing wind from the northeast blew the livelong day, and moaned about the corners at night.... Snow flew ... more snow fell.

No sun.... No sky.... The air was a grey, ashen mist which breathed a deathly chill; it hung around and above them thick and frozen.... In the course of time there was a full moon at night, somewhere behind the veil. Then the mist grew luminous and alive—strange to behold.... Night after night the ghostly spectacle would return.

Per Hansa would gaze at it and think: Now the trolls are surely abroad!...

---

One evening Tönseten and Kjersti came over. They sat and talked until it grew very late. One could readily see that Syvert was out of sorts about something; he puffed at his pipe in glum, ill humor, glared at Per Hansa’s walls, and didn’t have much to say. When he did speak his voice was unnecessarily loud.

Kjersti and Beret sat together on the bed; they seemed to be finding a good deal to chat about.

Kjersti was in an unusually neighbourly mood; she had come over to ask if ... well, if she couldn’t do something for Beret? She had some woollen yarn at home in her chest, very soft and very fine. Would Beret be offended if she knitted a pair of socks for the little newcomer they were all awaiting?... It was fine yarn, the very finest! Beret must just try to imagine how lonesome she was, sitting at home all alone with that useless husband of hers—and no little newcomer to wait for!... She had plenty of yarn; she could easily make the socks long enough to serve as leggings, too. The work would really bring joy to her—and to Syvert, too, poor fellow, to whom no little newcomer would ever arrive!

... Ah, well!... God pity us, Syvert wasn’t so bad, after all—far be it from her to complain!... At that, Kjersti happened to think of a story she had heard, about a couple who couldn’t seem to get a child though they wanted one very badly. Here the story was, since they happened to be talking about such matters.... This wife had so little sense that she sought the aid of a witch woman, who gave her both devil’s drink and beaver-geld; she rubbed herself with the stuff and drank some of it, too, but no change came; that is, not until one summer when a shoal of herring came into the fjord and with it a fleet of strange fishermen.... Alas! desire makes a hot fire, once it has been kindled! But what do you suppose?—her husband became just as fond of that child as if he had been the father of it!... Wasn’t that a queer thing?... But when the boy was a year old and was on the point of being christened—well, on that very Sunday it happened, as they were sailing across the fjord, that the boat capsized and the Lord took both mother and child, right there and then! He had taken away what he had refused to give in honour, and more besides.... There was something mysterious about such things, didn’t Beret think so? And wasn’t it strange that the father should have been so fond of that child?... Kjersti had known them both very well.

Beret listened attentively to this tale, putting in a word here and there.

Over at the table, the men had pricked up their ears as the story began; they heard it all. Per Hansa looked at Syvert and laughed; Syvert, in turn, glared at the wall and said, angrily:

“I should think you’d be able to find something American to talk about!... We’re through now with all that troll business over in Norway!” ... He got up and started to go....

But Per Hansa wouldn’t listen to their leaving just yet; since they had braved the weather to make a call they might as well sit awhile longer.... “You’ll have the wind astern, Syvert, going home!... Come on, sit down and behave yourself!”

---

On another afternoon all of Hans Olsa’s household came over. They stayed till dark; then they began to say that perhaps they’d better be going now—but they made no move to leave.... Sörine had brought a gift for Beret. There had been a few bits of cloth lying around the house, for which she could find no use; it had been rather lonesome these days and she had needed something to do, so she had made a little article for this newcomer whom everyone was waiting for!... At that, Sörine drew out from her ample bosom a child’s cap, of red, white, and blue stripes, with long silk ribbons, all sewed with the greatest care. It was a beautiful cap; all had to see it; there were many warm words of praise. Beret received it in silence; her eyes were wet as she took the cap and laid it carefully in the big chest....

To-night it was Beret who refused to let the visitors leave. She absolutely insisted. Such quantities of food lay outside around the house—far more than they would ever need—that they might as well stay for supper and help to eat it!... This proposal overjoyed Per Hansa. It was the plain truth, as Beret said, they had more than they needed—and there was plenty left in the Sioux River, for that matter; to-night they were going to celebrate with fresh fish for supper!... He went outside and brought in a generous supply of the frozen fish, which he scaled and cut up; he was in the finest of spirits—it seemed just like the good old days in Lofoten.

... That evening was a happy interlude for them all.

IV

... No, the days would not pass!... Why, here it was, only the middle of November! It seemed to Per Hansa, as he sat by the table puffing his pipe and following Beret around with his eyes, that many winters must have gone by already.

He found himself watching Beret very often; during the last two weeks he had discovered many things about her which he had never noticed before. Just trifles, they were, but so many of them—one thing after another. Sitting here now with nothing else to occupy his mind, he began slowly and carefully to piece together what he had observed; the result pleased him less and less as he went on adding. He tried to wave the truth aside—to deny the plain facts; he even succeeded for a while—in the beginning.... Goodness! nothing but trifles—things that were always likely to happen under such circumstances!... Oh no! There was no danger that Beret couldn’t stand her watch; things would right themselves when the time came; for it was only the law of nature, which man must obey.... Of course she couldn’t help dreading it, poor thing!

... Did her face seem a good deal more wasted this time—or was he mistaken? She didn’t look well at all.... No.... Then why didn’t she eat more? Good Heavens! she wasn’t trying to save on the food? Here was everything—quantities of it: meat aplenty, and any amount of flour!... She should help herself, this Beret-girl of his, or he would make her dance to another tune!

One day at table he burst out with it, telling her that she mustn’t act the stranger in her own house! He made his voice sound gruff and commanding: Now she must sit up and eat like a grown woman.... “Here, help yourself!” ... He took a big piece of fish from the platter and put it on her plate; but she merely picked at it, and left the most of it lying there.

“It is hard when you have to force every mouthful down,” she complained.

“But look here, you’ve got to eat, both for yourself and—Of course you must eat!”

“Oh, well,” she said, wearily, as she got up and left the table.... “It doesn’t matter much about the food.” ...

Lately he had also begun to notice that she lay awake the greater part of the night; he always dropped off to sleep before she did; yet she would be wide awake in the morning when he first stirred, although he was by habit an early riser. And if by chance he woke up in the night, he would be almost certain to find her lying awake beside him.... One night she had called him; she had been sitting up in bed, and must have been crying—her voice sounded like it. And she had only wanted him to get up and see what ailed Store-Hans; he had been moaning in his sleep all night, she said. Per Hansa had risen to look after the boy, and had found nothing the matter, as he had expected.... That night he had been seriously frightened. When he had come back to lie down she had started crying so despairingly; he hadn’t been able to make any sense of the few words he got out of her.... From that time on, he had been scared to show her any tenderness; he had noticed that when he did so, the tears were sure to come. And that, certainly, was not good for her!

As he sat through the long, long day observing his wife, he grew more and more worried about Beret, poor thing. Every day there were new trifles to be noticed.

She, who had always been so neat and could make whatever clothes she put on look becoming, was now going about shabby and unkempt; she didn’t even bother to wash herself. He realized that he had noticed it subconsciously for a long time.... But now he seldom saw her even wash her face. And her hair, her beautiful hair which he admired so greatly and loved to fondle when she was in good spirits, now hung down in frowsy coils.... Wasn’t it two days since she had touched her hair? Well—that he didn’t dare to mention!... How could he ever speak of cleanliness at all to his Beret—his Beret who was always so prim and often nagged him for being slovenly and careless about his own appearance.... Not that she wasn’t pretty enough, just as she was, his Beret-girl; this Per Hansa told himself many times. But one day as he sat looking at her, he suddenly got up, went over to the window, and stood there gazing out; and then he said:

“I really think you ought to go and fix up your hair, Beret-girl.... I kind of feel that we’re going to have company to-day.”

She gave him a quick glance, blushed deeply, rose, and left the room. He heard her go into the stable, where she stayed a long time; he couldn’t imagine what she was doing in there at that hour of the day. Her actions made him feel worried and uncertain. When she came in again he did not dare to look at her.... Then she began to tidy herself; she took some water and washed, loosened up her braids and combed her hair, and afterward coiled it very prettily. She gave herself plenty of time, and took careful pains.... At last he had to look at her; his whole self was in the gaze that he fixed upon her; he would have liked to say something kind and loving to her now. But she did not glance at him, and so he dared not speak.... In a little while he found an excuse to go out; passing close to her, he said in a tender, admiring voice:

“Now we’ve got a fine-looking lady!”

All the rest of that day he felt happier than he had been for a long while.... Of course his Beret-girl would be all right.... Indeed, she was all right, as far as that went!...

But ... other days followed. Per Hansa remained idle and had nothing to do but look at his wife. He looked and looked, until he had to face the hard fact that something was wrong.

... Had she ever been so brooding and taciturn when she was with child before? He could talk to the boys about the future until they would be completely carried away by his visions; but whenever he tried to draw her into the conversation he failed completely—failed, no matter which tack he took nor how hard he tried. He understood it clearly: it wasn’t because she did not want to respond—she couldn’t!... The pain of it surged through him like a wave. God in Heaven, had she grown so weak and helpless!... She wasn’t even able to take nourishment.... There Beret sat in the room with them, within four paces—yet she was far, far away. He spoke to her now, to her alone, but could not make her come out of the enchanted ring that lay about her.... When he discovered this, it hurt him so that he could have shrieked....

... Another queer thing, she was always losing the commonest objects—completely losing them, though they were right at hand. He had seen it happen several times without taking much notice; but by and by it began to occur so frequently that he was forced to pay attention. She would put a thing down, merely turn around, and then go about searching for it in vain; and the thing would lie exactly where she had placed it, all the time.... This happened again and again; sometimes it struck them all as very funny.... “It looks as if your eyes were in your way, Mother!” Store-Hans once exclaimed, laughing so heartily that the others had to join in; but Per Hansa soon noticed that she was hurt when they made fun of her.

One day she was looking for the scissors. She had been sitting by the stove, mending a garment; had risen to put on more fuel; and when she sat down again had been unable to find her scissors, which she held all the while in her hand. She searched diligently, and asked the others to help her. Suddenly Ole discovered the scissors in his mother’s hand; he ran up to her and jerked them away; the boy was roaring with laughter.... Then she burst into violent tears, laid her work aside, threw herself down on the bed, and buried her face in the pillow. All three menfolk felt painfully embarrassed.

And sometimes she had moments of unusual tenderness toward them all—particularly toward Per Hansa. Her concern would grow touchingly childlike; it was as if she could not do enough for him and the children. But it was a tenderness so delicate that he dared not respond to it. Nevertheless, he felt very happy when these moods came; they gave him renewed courage.

... Of course she would be all right again as soon as it was over!... And now the event could not be far away!...

V

Winter was ever tightening its grip. The drifting snow flew wildly under a low sky, and stirred up the whole universe into a whirling mass; it swept the plain like the giant broom of a witch, churning up a flurry so thick that people could scarcely open their eyes.

As soon as the weather cleared icy gusts drove through every chink and cranny, leaving white frost behind; people’s breaths hung frozen in the air the moment it was out of the mouth; if one touched iron, a piece of skin would be torn away.

At intervals a day of bright sunshine came. Then the whole vast plain glittered with the flashing brilliance of diamonds; the glare was so strong that it burnt the sight; the eyes saw blackness where there was nothing but shining white....

... Evenings ... magic, still evenings, surpassing in beauty the most fantastic dreams of childhood!... Out to the westward—so surprisingly near—a blazing countenance sank to rest on a white couch ... set it afire ... kindled a radiance ... a golden flame that flowed in many streams from horizon to horizon; the light played on the hundreds and thousands and millions of diamonds, and turned them into glittering points of yellow and red, green and blue fire.

... Such evenings were dangerous for all life. To the strong they brought reckless laughter—for who had ever seen such moon-nights?... To the weak they brought tears, hopeless tears. This was not life, but eternity itself....

Per Hansa sat in his hut, ate, drank, puffed at his pipe, and followed his wife with his eyes in vague alarm; for the life of him he didn’t know what to do. Where could he betake himself? It wouldn’t do for him to go from house to house, when things were in such a bad way at home.... No, here he was condemned to sit!... His temper was growing steadily worse; he found it more and more difficult to keep his hands off things.

He would be seized by a sudden, almost irresistible desire to take Beret, his own blessed Beret, hold her on his knee like a naughty child—just make her sit there—and reason with her ... talk some sense into her!

For this wasn’t altogether fair play on her part! Of course it was hard for her these days; but after all, the time would soon come to an end; and that was something real to struggle with—something to glory in! Besides, she had her wonted round of duties to perform.... But he!... Here he was forced to sit in idleness, and just let his eyes wander!...

... And it wasn’t right for him to feel this way, either; but the endless waiting had at last got on his nerves.... Strange, how long it took! Hadn’t the time ought to be drawing near pretty soon?... During these days he often thought about the matter of a name. He immediately decided that if it turned out to be a girl, she should be named Beret; that part of it was settled. But suppose she bore him a boy? In that case he wasn’t so certain. Two boy’s names were running in his mind, but—well, time would tell.... If she would only hurry up and bring forth the child, he would guarantee to find a suitable name for it!

He began to feel weak and miserable as he dragged himself about the house.... Then, one day, came a fascinating thought: if he could only make a short trip east to the Sioux River, to visit the Trönders! This spell of cold weather was nothing to mind; it was a long way, to be sure, but he felt that he could easily manage it. Hadn’t he sailed a cockleshell of an eight-oared boat all the way from Helgeland to West Lofoten in the dark of winter? This would be mere child’s play compared to that journey.... What great sport it would be to fish with a net through the ice! From the Trönders, who were old settlers in this region, he could get a lot more valuable information; it was really remarkable, what they had told him last time, about the fur trade with the Indians north at Flandreau.... Whenever the thought of this journey came to him he could hardly push it aside.

... Useless even to dream of such a thing! Here was poor Beret, pottering helplessly about—he must think only of her.

And Per Hansa tried his best to think of her to some effect. He had noticed that she minded the cold; she never complained, but he was well aware of it; from now on he tended, the fire himself and kept the stove red hot most of the day. In spite of that he couldn’t get the house properly warm when the cold was at its worst; the earthen floor was always cold and Beret’s feet seemed particularly sensitive.

One day Per Hansa got an idea which gave him much diversion. While they had been busy chopping the wood he had selected a few of the largest and straightest-grained sticks, trimmed them out square, and stood them behind the stove to dry; he had promised himself that he would make something out of them during the winter. Now he chose the best piece he could pick out; he had decided to make a pair of clogs for Beret; he knew by experience that such shoes were very warm while they were new. For a long while he couldn’t think of any material to use for the vamps; then he resolutely cut off a corner of the old sheepskin robe which they used on their bed; he sheared the wool snug, and made the vamps of that.... He did a neat, attractive job and felt rather proud when the job was finished.

He brought the clogs to Beret and put them on her feet.

It was plain to be seen that she was touched by the gift; but then she said something that he wished she had left unspoken:

“You might have thought of this before, it seems to me. Here I have gone with cold feet all winter.” ... The words were uttered quietly; she meant no reproach by them, but merely said what came into her mind.

He turned away and went out of the house; outside the door he paused, and stood for a long time gazing off into the evening.... Somewhere out there life was still happy.... There was no solitude.... Didn’t it seem to call to him?

Per Hansa felt that now he needed to cry....

VI

A day came when Per Hansa flared up in a rage that frightened even himself; he struck out blindly and smashed whatever happened to lie within his reach. It was one of the Solum boys that brought it about. One forenoon Henry came over and sat chatting for a long while, as if he had nothing in particular on his mind; Per Hansa was glad of the visit, and urged Henry to stay. When the lad finally rose to go he asked if Per Hansa would be willing to keep their cow until the time of the spring planting; he could have the calf she would drop in January, so he would be nothing out; and there was plenty of hay left in their barn, which could be hauled over ... Henry spoke slowly, without looking up; he seemed almost ashamed to explain his errand.

Per Hansa’s eyes blinked fast.... This was indeed handsome of Henry; imagine his thinking more of Beret and the children than of himself! In fact, it was so generous, and handsomely done, that Per Hansa felt quite overcome; his eyes blinked till they watered.... But he mustn’t take an offer like this! True enough, Rosie was drying up and milk wasn’t very plentiful in their house; but they had learned to get along without it; they made plenty of soup, and that filled the same need. No, it would never do to take the milk away from the Solum boys.... “I don’t very well see how I can take your cow,” Per Hansa answered.

Henry seemed perplexed, looked down at the floor, and apparently did not know how to go on.

—Well, that wasn’t exactly the idea, he said.... He and his brother had made a sleigh, and now they wanted to try it out. The cow couldn’t be left alone after they were gone.

Per Hansa’s eyes fairly danced; he leaned across the table, speaking fast and eagerly: The devil you say—going east to the Sioux River, perhaps?... What?... He wished to the Lord he could go along with them! Couldn’t they hold up for just a little while—until he got ready?... He threw a swift glance at his wife.

—No, that wasn’t exactly the idea, either, Henry confessed, still more embarrassed. Their parents were sitting alone, back there in Minnesota; he and Sam had agreed that they had better go east and celebrate Christmas with the old folks. They had been getting pretty lonesome here, anyway; there seemed to be nothing to do in the dead of winter; but they fully intended to come back in the spring, as soon as the prairie was open.... Couldn’t he do them the favour of keeping the cow?

For an instant all the light seemed to die out of Per Hansa’s face: then it suddenly flared up again in a flame of rage that positively snapped and crackled.

“Take your damned old cow along with you, Henry! We want none of your milk!” ... His lips trembled like those of one on the point of bursting into tears.

—Well—said Henry, calmly—if that was the way Per Hansa felt about it, he would have to ask some of the others; he certainly didn’t want to force the cow on anyone! If they could find no other way out of it, they would have to slaughter the beast; they couldn’t possibly take her with them.... Without further words he left the house.

It was then that the storm broke loose in earnest.... The boys were sitting at the table, each with a piece of charcoal, drawing ponies and Indians on top; those of Store-Hans’s were waging war against Ole’s; the boys were so taken up with their play that they hardly noticed what was going on in the room. Beret sat by the stove, mending a garment; the child had also been given needle and thread, and was industriously sewing away at a piece of rag.... Per Hansa stood at the window, glaring out.

All at once Beret remarked in her quiet manner, without looking up, that it didn’t seem a bit strange to her that the Solum boys wanted to leave the place. Why should they lie exiled out here in the wilderness?

It was as if something had suddenly stung Per Hansa; he wheeled quickly and looked at his wife, his eyes hard and glazed.

“Hell!” he snapped ... “If they were men, instead of such god-damned lousy worms, they would find something to do!” ... Quiet fell on the room after this outburst; Per Hansa sank down heavily on the edge of the bench.... All of a sudden he burst out again:

—Ha—do!... Two strong men! Here lay the finest sleighing that one could wish for! If they had been grown-up men, and not a couple of babies, they would now be hauling home logs for their new house!... If he didn’t have to sit here like a sick woman, he would have had enough lumber on hand for the finest farmstead, long ago—perhaps would have started to build by now! Did she actually believe there was nothing to do around here?...

His words cut through the little room like the harsh grating of a file on a saw blade.

Again there was silence. He got up savagely and stuck his pipe in his mouth, but did not light it; he did not know what he was doing now....

It was Beret who broke the silence; although her question was uttered very calmly, it seemed to cut deeper than his violent outburst:

—Well, why didn’t he go to work and do it, then?

Go to work?—he snarled.—Did she need to ask why he wasn’t doing anything? Was she in such a condition that he could ever leave the house?...

—Oh, she was in the condition he had brought her to—no worse and no better—she said. Now her words, too, vibrated with passion.—No, indeed, he didn’t need to sit at home on her account! she added sharply.

Per Hansa drove his fist into the table with a terrible crash. The boys jumped up in fright and shrank away—never had they seen their father like this; he looked as if he would strike their mother the next instant. Little And-Ongen threw the rag in her mother’s lap, put her hand into her mouth, and screamed in terror.

“You talk like a fool!... That only shows how much sense you’ve got!”

He saw a cap over on a wall somewhere, seized it, found the door, and was gone....

Per Hansa stayed outside nearly all of the day. Before evening had come, however, he had made a pair of skis for each of the boys: they were rather heavy and clumsy affairs, but would serve the purpose; the boys stood looking at them wide-eyed and happy—but still they hardly dared to come near their father.... When he finally entered the house that evening the supper stood ready on the table.... Beret had gone to bed.

As soon as he had eaten he told the boys that he would have to go on an errand over to Hans Olsa’s; he wasn’t sure when he would be back; if he stayed late, they must go to bed.... No, they couldn’t go with him!... He gave a glance toward the bed as he went out....

When he reached Hans Olsa’s house he asked at once if he might speak to Sörine alone; he seemed bashful and embarrassed—tried to assume a bantering air, but didn’t quite succeed. When Sörine had stepped outside with him he asked beseechingly if she would be kind enough to go over and look after Beret—the sooner the better!

—Was there anything going on? Sörine asked.

—No, not exactly that—though it must be nearly time now. But Sörine ought to remember that it was pretty lonesome for her, sitting there alone, unable even to go outside the door. Day after day Beret neither saw nor heard another person, outside of the family!

—Yes, certainly—she would be glad to run over!

—Could she go right away?

—Was there such an awful hurry?—Sörine still suspected Per Hansa’s denial. If that was the case, he had better go and get Kjersti at once; she didn’t care to tackle this job alone!

—No, no—it wasn’t that!

Sörine went in for a moment to put on her coat; soon she came out again, ready to start. He went with her for some distance....

—Wasn’t he coming along?—she asked, stopping to look inquiringly at him.

—No, he guessed he wouldn’t; he needed to have a little talk with Hans Olsa to-night. He only wanted to say this: that she who understood all such things so capably, must look well to Beret now; she mustn’t come away and leave her too soon!

Sörine’s kind, intelligent face looked straight into his.

“I can see that you’re worried about your wife to-night, Per Hansa.... That’s fine of you, I say!”

“God richly bless you for those words, Sörrina!”

Per Hansa suddenly felt like a new person; and yet he lacked the courage to look up.

“But let me tell you one thing, Sörrina: I’m not half so worried about my wife as I am about myself! To-day I nearly laid hands on her—that’s how fine I am, and now you know it!... Hurry along!”

“You ought to have a whaling for that, Per Hansa!” she said with a laugh, but immediately grew serious.... “Alas! life lays a hard hand on all of us!... Well, now I’m off. You don’t need to hurry to-night—if we need you, I’ll send Ola.”

Per Hansa stood there in the darkness of the winter night, looking after the disappearing figure.... No, her equal was not to be found! She could be both minister and father confessor, that woman!

VII

He had barely entered Hans Olsa’s house, found a seat, and lighted his pipe, when another visitor arrived. Tönseten came in, apparently in a bad humour; no, he didn’t want to sit down; he was going farther on in a minute or two. Did they know that the Solum boys were about to leave?

“I guess we know as much as you do,” said Per Hansa, dryly.... “There’s such a lot going on around here these days!”

“But this won’t do, folks, I tell you—it simply won’t do! As Kjersti says, soon we’ll have nothing but the snow left!”

“And I hope that’ll go in time, too,” laughed Per Hansa.

“It probably will!” Tönseten snapped, irritably. “But what I don’t understand is, why have you folks let things come to such a pass?”

“We...?” Per Hansa asked.

“Yes, you!... The two of you!”

“We can’t very well tie up the boys, when they are bent on going,” said Hans Olsa.

“I didn’t say we could!” ... Tönseten stood in front of him, waving his arms excitedly. “But we can use common sense, can’t we?”

“Very well, Syvert, let’s hear your common sense,” spoke up Per Hansa.

“You talk like a fool, Per Hansa! Here you both sit around and twiddle your thumbs, doing nothing; but you’ve got cubs, and will soon have more! Why don’t you join forces and hire Henry Solum to teach school for your brats this winter? There’s a good enough head on Henry’s shoulders, let me tell you; he hasn’t had much schooling, to be sure; but the boy was born and raised in this country, and can sling the English like a native—that much I know.... I haven’t any brats of my own to send; but I’ll gladly chip in a few dollars when my wheat is threshed next fall!” ... Tönseten seemed to have the details fully laid out, as usual.

The other two listened in silence. The eyes of Per Hansa began to shoot rapid, sparkling glances, which always betrayed the fact that he was in good humour; but it was some time before he opened his mouth. Hans Olsa sat pondering over the new idea that had just been proposed; it was perfectly true that the children needed schooling; but how did this bear on the case, when the Solum boys were ready and determined to go?

“I see you’re still hesitating!” Tönseten exclaimed, snappishly. “Listen here, now: we’re all going straight over to the Solum boys and talk them into it right away!”

“It strikes me this way,” said Hans Olsa, slowly. “If they have made up their minds, it isn’t right for us to interfere.”

“Made up their minds!” snorted Tönseten, contemptuously. “What nonsense you’re talking, Hans Olsa! How many times have you made up your mind, I’d like to know, and then unmade it again?... I can assure you of one thing, fellows: if we let Sam and Henry slip away from us now, it’s certainly doubtful if we ever see them again—single and unhitched as they are! That’s just Kjersti’s opinion, too. Then won’t we be left in a fine mess, I ask you—for what chance would we stand of ever getting such good neighbours again?”

“We might try it,” Hans Olsa conceded. “What do you think, Per Hansa?”

Per Hansa jumped up from his chair. “I’ll do whatever you say, friends. We can get no worse than a refusal.” ... But then he remembered something, and hesitated for a moment.... “I really oughtn’t to be going over there; but—oh, well! who cares!” He grabbed up his cap impulsively.... “I might as well give Henry a chance to tell me what he thinks of me!... The sooner, the better!”

They held a lengthy conference with the Solum boys that night. Outside of their hut the sleigh waited in readiness; inside the door the chest stood packed; the boys were on the point of going to bed when the three men entered, and were evidently annoyed to see them.... The newcomers seemed unaccountably bashful.

Hans Olsa announced their errand.

At this Henry burst out laughing.... No, a school-teacher he could never be, he said; he had other things to think of; back east in Minnesota somewhere, a girl was straying about looking for him; if he could only find her, he too would be needing a teacher by and by!...

Then Tönseten began to talk; there was a note in his voice that put all joking aside, even though they had to laugh at him now and then:

“If you leave this place, you’ll have to take Kjersti and me along with you, though I don’t know what we would do with ourselves back in Minnesota! She and I crossed the Red Sea, as it were, when we left last spring.... For her and me there is no road leading back!... What do you think we’re going to do, I’d like to know, when you are gone? At Hans Olsa’s they don’t play cards; and Per Hansa, poor devil—well, he has a sick woman on his hands.... God alone knows how that business is going to come off. That’s just what Kjersti says, too!”

Per Hansa had been silent ever since he came in; now he knocked the ashes out of his pipe, rose from the chest, and turned to Henry:

“I’ll tell you exactly how we stand—and this is gospel truth. If you and Sam leave us now, it’ll be so dull and dreary for the rest of us that we might as well hang ourselves. You saw how I went to pieces to-day? You came and made me the finest kind of an offer, and in return I flew right in your face; you know blamed well, Henry, that such is not my way.” ... Here he paused for a moment, and then went on: “What sort of a school-teacher you’ll make I haven’t the faintest idea; I only know this, that you and your brother are both fine fellows and that none of us can afford to lose you.... Now, go ahead and do as your heart bids!”

Per Hansa had spoken with forced calmness; the seriousness of the situation bore in upon them all. Everyone in the room had the same thought: this strong man was likely at any minute to burst into tears.

... A long silence fell. Tönseten blew his nose violently between his fingers, after which he wiped them off on his trousers.

At last Henry spoke—his voice was husky and subdued: “It’s harder on us than it is on you. We have only each other; but you have wives and children to squabble with!”

“Children!” cried Tönseten, wiping his eyes.... “Good God! what are you saying, Henry?” ...

“Well, all the same,” Henry continued, earnestly, “if you will undertake to give us supper, one week with each of you, and have our clothes mended, we’ll try to hang on a little while.... What do you say, Sam?”

VIII

The days wore on ... sunny days ... bleak, gloomy days, with cold that congealed all life.

There was one who heeded not the light of the day, whether it might be grey or golden. Beret stared at the earthen floor of the hut and saw only night round about her.

Yes ... she faced only darkness. She tried hard, but she could not let in the sun.

Ever since she had come out here a grim conviction had been taking stronger and stronger hold on her.

This was her retribution!

Now had fallen the punishment which the Lord God had meted out to her; at last His visitation had found her out and she must drink the cup of his wrath. Far away she had fled, from the rising of the sun to the going down thereof ... so it had seemed to her ... but the arm of His might had reached farther still. No, she could not escape—this was her retribution!

The stillness out here had given her full opportunity for reflection; all the fall she had done nothing but brood and remember.... Alas! she had much to remember!

She had accepted the hand of Per Hansa because she must—although no law had compelled her; she and he were the only people who had willed it thus. She had been gotten with child by him out of wedlock; nevertheless, no one had compelled her to marry him—neither father, nor mother, nor anyone in authority. It had been wholly her own doing. Her parents, in fact, had set themselves against the marriage with all their might, even after the child, Ole, had come.

... It had mattered nothing at all what they had said, nor what anyone else had said; for her there had been no other person in the world but Per Hansa! Whenever she had been with him she had forgotten the admonitions and prayers of her father and mother.... He had been life itself to her; without him there had been nothing.... Therefore she had given herself to him, although she had known it was a sin—had continued to give herself freely, in a spirit of abandoned joy.

Now she found plenty of time to remember how her parents had begged and threatened her to break with him; she recalled all that they had said, turning it over in her mind and examining it minutely.... Per Hansa was a shiftless fellow, they had told her; he drank; he fought; he was wild and reckless; he got himself tangled up in all sorts of brawls; no honourable woman could be happy with such a man. He probably had affairs with other women, too, whenever he had a chance.... All the other accusations she knew to be true; but not the last—no, not the last! She alone among women held his heart. The certainty of this fact had been the very sweetness of life to her.... What did she care for the rest of it! All was as nothing compared with this great certainty.... Ah, no—she knew it well enough: for him she was the only princess!

But now she understood clearly all that her parents had done to end it between them, and all the sacrifices they had been willing to make; she had not realized it at the time.... Oh, those kind-hearted parents on whom she had turned her back in order that she might cleave to him: how they must have suffered! The life which she and he had begotten in common guilt they had offered to take as their own, give it their name and their inheritance, and bring it up as their very child. They had freely offered to use their hard-earned savings to send her away from the scene of her shame ... so precious had she been to them! But she had only said no, and no, and no, to all their offers of sacrifice and love!... Had there ever been a transgression so grievous as hers!

... Yet how could she ever have broken with him? Where Per Hansa was, there dwelt high summer and there it bloomed for her. How can a human forsake his very life?... Whenever she heard of one of his desperately reckless cruises through rough and stormy seas, on which he had played with the lives of his comrades as well as his own, her cheeks would glow and her heart would flame. This was the man her heart had chosen—this was he, and he alone! a voice would sing within her. Or when she sat among the heather on the mountain side in the fair summer night, and he came to her and laid his head in her lap—the tousled head that only she could lull to sleep—then she felt that now she was crossing the very threshold of paradise!... Though she had had a thousand lives, she would have thrown them all away for one such moment—and would have been glad of the bargain!...

... Yes, she remembered all that had happened in those days; it was so still out here ... so easy to remember!

No one had ever told her, but she knew full well who it was that had persuaded Hans Olsa to leave the land and the ancient farm that had been in his family for generations, and go to America. There had been only one other person in the world whom Per Hansa loved, and that was Hans Olsa. She had been jealous of Hans Olsa because of this; it had seemed to her that he took something that rightfully belonged to her. She had even felt the same way toward Sörine, who was kindness itself; on this account she had not been able to hold her friendship as fully as she needed to, either in Norway or here....

... But when Per Hansa had come home from Lofoten that spring and announced in his reckless, masterful way, that he was off for America: would Beret come now, or wait until later?... Well, there hadn’t been a “no” in her mouth then! There she had sat, with three children in a nice little home which, after the manner of simple folk, they had managed to build.... But she had risen up, taken the children with her, and left it all as if nothing mattered but him!

... How her mother had wept at that time!... How her father had grieved when they had left! Time after time he had come begging to Per Hansa, offering him all that he had—boat and fishing outfit, house and farm—if only he would settle down in Norway and not take their daughter from them forever.... But Per Hansa had laughed it all aside! There had been a power in his unflinching determination which had sent hot waves through her. She must have led a double life at that time; she had been sad with her parents but had rejoiced with Per Hansa. He had raged like a storm through those days, wild and reckless—and sometimes ruthless, too.... No!—he had cried—they would just make that little trip across the ocean! America—that’s the country where a poor devil can get ahead! Besides, it was only a little way; if they didn’t like it, they could drift back on the first fair western breeze!... So they had sold off everything that they had won with so much toil, had left it all like a pair of worn-out shoes—parents, home, fatherland, and people.... And she had done it gladly, even rejoicingly!... Was there ever a sin like hers?

IX

... Then she had arrived in America. The country did not at all come up to her expectations; here, too, she saw enough of poverty and grinding toil. What did it avail, that the rich soil lay in endless stretches? More than ever did she realize that “man liveth not by bread alone!” ... Even the bread was none too plentiful at times....

Beyond a doubt, it was Destiny that had brought her thither.... Destiny, the inexorable law of life, which the Lord God from eternity had laid down for every human being, according to the path He knew would be taken.... Now punishment stood here awaiting her—the punishment for having broken God’s commandment of filial obedience.... Throughout the fall she had been reckoning up her score, and it came out exactly thus: Destiny had so arranged everything that the punishment should strike her all the more inevitably. Destiny had cast her into the arms of Per Hansa—and she did not regret it! Destiny had held up America as an enticing will-o’-the-wisp—and they had followed!...

But no sooner had they reached America than the west-fever had smitten the old settlements like a plague. Such a thing had never happened before in the history of mankind; people were intoxicated by bewildering visions; they spoke dazedly, as though under the force of a spell.... “Go west!... Go west, folks!... The farther west, the better the land!” ... Men beheld in feverish dreams the endless plains, teeming with fruitfulness, glowing, out there where day sank into night—a Beulah Land of corn and wine!... She had never dreamed that the good Lord would let such folly loose among men. Were it only the young people who had been caught by the plague, she would not have wondered; but the old had been taken even worse.... “Now we’re bound west!” said the young.... “Wait a minute—we’re going along with you!” cried the old, and followed after.... Human beings gathered together, in small companies and large—took whatever was movable along, and left the old homestead without as much as a sigh! Ever westward led the course, to where the sun glowed in matchless glory as it sank at night; people drifted about in a sort of delirium, like sea birds in mating time; then they flew toward the sunset, in small flocks and large—always toward Sunset Land.... Now she saw it clearly: here on the trackless plains, the thousand-year-old hunger of the poor after human happiness had been unloosed!

Into this feverish atmosphere they had come. Could Destiny have spun his web more cunningly? She remembered well how the eyes of Per Hansa had immediately begun to gleam and glow!... And the strange thing about this spell had been that he had become so very kind under it. How playfully affectionate he had grown toward her during the last winter and spring! It had been even more deliciously sweet to give herself to him then, than back in those days when she had first won him. Was it not worth all the care and sorrow in the world to taste such bliss, she had often asked herself—but had been unable to answer. But—then it had happened: this spring she had been gotten with child again.... Let no one tell her that this was not Destiny!

She had urged against this last journey; she had argued that they must tarry where they were until she had borne the child. One year more or less would make no difference, considering all the land there was in the west.... Hans Olsa, however, had been ready to start; and so there had been no use in trying to hold back Per Hansa. All her misgiving he had turned to sport and laughter, or playful love; he had embraced her, danced around with her, and become so roguish that she had been forced to laugh with him.... “Come here, Litagod—now we’re gone!” ... She well recalled how lovely this endearing term had sounded in her ears, the first night he had used it....

But this was clear to her beyond a doubt: Per Hansa was without blame in what had happened—all the blame was hers.... He had never been so tender toward her as in the days since they had come out here; she could not have thought it possible for one human being to have such strong desire for another as he held.... Who could match him—who dared follow where he led? She remembered all that he had wrought since they had set out on their journey last spring, and felt that no one else could do it after him. He was like the north wind that sweeps the cloud banks from the heavens!... At these thoughts, something unspeakably soft and loving came into Beret’s eyes.... No, not like the north wind: like the gentle breeze of a summer’s night—that’s how he was!... And this, too, was only retribution. She had bound herself inseparably to this man; now she was but a hindrance to him, like chains around his feet; him, whom she loved unto madness, she burdened and impeded ... she was only in his way!

... But that he could not understand it—that he could not fathom the source of her trouble; that seemed wholly incomprehensible to her. Didn’t he realize that she could never be like him?... No one in all the world was like him! How could she be?...

X

Beret struggled with many thoughts these days.

... Wasn’t it remarkable how ingeniously Destiny had arranged it all? For ten long years he had cast her about like a chip on the current, and then had finally washed her ashore here. Here, far off in the great stillness, where there was nothing to hide behind—here the punishment would fall!... Could a better place have been found in which to lay her low?

... Life was drawing to a close. One fact stood before her constantly: she would never rise again from the bed in which she was soon to lie down.... This was the end.

... Often, now, she found herself thinking of the churchyard at home.... It would have been so pleasant to lie down there.... The churchyard was enclosed by a massive stone wall, broad and heavy; one couldn’t imagine anything more reliable than that wall. She had sat on it often in the years when she was still her father’s little girl.... In the midst of the churchyard lay the church, securely protecting everything round about. No fear had ever dwelt in that place; she could well remember how the boys used to jump over the graves; it had been great fun, too—at times she had joined the game.... Within that wall many of her dear ones slumbered: two brothers whom she had never seen, and a little sister that she remembered quite clearly, though she had died long, long ago; her grandparents, on both her father’s and her mother’s side, also rested here, and one of her great-grandfathers. She knew where all these graves lay. Her whole family, generation after generation, rested there—many more than she had any knowledge of.... Around the churchyard stood a row of venerable trees, looking silently down on the peace and the stillness within.... They gave such good shelter, those old trees!

... She could not imagine where he would bury her out here.... Now, in the dead of winter—the ground frozen hard!... How would he go about it?... If he would only dig deep down ... the wolves gave such unearthly howls at night! No matter what he thought of it, she would have to speak to him about the grave.... Well, no need to mention it just now.

One day when Beret had to go out she stayed longer than usual. Before she finally came back to the house she went to the spot where the woodpile had stood, visited the curious little fort which they had built of chopped wood, and then entered the stable.... It worried her to know where he would find material for a coffin. She had looked everywhere outside, but had discovered only a few bits of plank and the box in which he had mixed the lime.... Hadn’t she better remind him of this at once? Then perhaps he could go to the Trönders, east on the Sioux River, and get some lumber from them.... Never mind, she wouldn’t do anything about it for a few days yet.

... If he could only spare her the big chest!... Beret fell to looking at it, and grew easier in her mind.... That chest had belonged to her great-grandfather, but it must have been in the family long before his day; on it she could make out only the words “Anno 16—” ... the rest was completely worn away. Along the edges and running twice around the middle were heavy iron bands.... Beret would go about looking at the chest—would lift the lid and gaze down inside.... Plenty of room in there, if they would only put something under her head and back! She felt as if she could sleep safely in that bed. She would have to talk to Sörine about all these matters.... One day Beret began to empty the chest; she got Per Hansa to make a small cupboard out of the mortar box, and put all the things in there; but she took great care not to do this while he was around.

She realized now the great forethought he had shown last summer in building the house and stable under one roof. They undoubtedly had the warmest house in the neighbourhood; and then she enjoyed the company of the animals as she lay awake at night; it felt so cosy and secure to lie there and listen to them.... She could easily distinguish each animal by its particular manner of breathing and lying down. The oxen were always the last to finish munching; Rosie was the first to go to sleep; Injun’s habits were entirely different from those of the others; he moved softly, almost without noise, as if engaged in some secret business. She never could hear him, except when the howl of a wolf sounded near by; then he would snort and stamp his feet. It was probably the wild blood in him that made him so different!... Beret had learned to love the pony.

When she was not listening to the animals she had other things to occupy her mind.... As a little girl, she had often been taken into bed by her grandmother. This grandmother had been a kindly woman, sunny and always happy, in spite of her great age; each night before going to sleep she would repeat to herself pious little verses from memory. Beret could not remember them all now; but she managed to patch them together little by little, inserting new lines of her own, and repeating them over and over to herself. This she would do for hours at a time, occasionally sitting up in bed to say the verses aloud:

XI

The day before Christmas Eve snow fell. It fell all that night and the following forenoon.... Still weather, and dry, powdery snow.... Murk without, and leaden dusk in the huts. People sat oppressed in the sombre gloom.

... Things were in a bad way over at Per Hansa’s now; everyone knew it and feared what might befall both Beret and him.... No one could help; all that could be done was to bide the time; for soon a change must come!

“Listen, folks,” said Tönseten, trying to comfort them as best he could. “Beret can’t keep this up forever! I think you had better go over to her again, Kjersti!”

Both neighbour women were now taking turns at staying with her, each one a day at a time. They saw clearly that Per Hansa was more in need of help than Beret; there was no helping her now, while something, at least, could be done for him and the children. Christmas would soon be here, too, and the house ought to be made comfortable and cosy!

They all felt very sorry for Per Hansa. He walked about like a ragged stray dog; his eyes burned with a hunted look. Each day, the children were sent over to Hans Olsa’s to stay for a while; if they remained longer than they had been told, he made no protest; at last they formed the habit of staying the whole day. He did not realize that it was bad for Beret to be without them so much; he tried to keep the talk going himself, but she had little to say; she answered in monosyllables and had grown peculiarly quiet and distant. In the shadow of a faint smile which she occasionally gave him there lay a melancholy deeper than the dusk of the Arctic Sea on a rainy, grey fall evening.

About noon of Christmas Eve the air suddenly cleared. An invisible fan was pushed in under the thick, heavy curtain that hung trembling between earth and heaven—made a giant sweep, and revealed the open, blue sky overhead. The sun shone down with powerful beams, and started a slight trickling from the eaves. Toward evening, it built a golden fairy castle for itself out yonder, just beyond Indian Hill.

The children were at Hans Olsa’s; And-Ongen wanted to stay outside and watch the sunset. Sofie had told her that to-day was Christmas Eve, and that on every Christmas Jesus came down from heaven. The child asked many questions.... Would he come driving? Couldn’t they lend him the pony?... Sofie hardly thought so—he probably would be driving an angel-pony!

Store-Hans, who was listening to them, thought this very silly and just like girls. He knew better!... Toward evening he suddenly wanted to go home, and was almost beside himself when his godfather said that he couldn’t: all the children were to stay with Sofie to-night. They had to hold him back by force.... This was Christmas Eve.... He understood very well that something was about to go wrong at home. Why had his mother looked so wan and worn of late, and his father acted so queer that one couldn’t talk to him?

That afternoon Beret was in childbed.... The grim struggle marked Per Hansa for life; he had fought his way through many a hard fight, but they had all been as nothing compared with this. He had ridden the frail keel of a capsized boat on the Lofoten seas, had seen the huge, combing waves snatch away his comrades one by one, and had rejoiced in the thought that the end would soon come for him also; but things of that sort had been mere child’s play.... This was the uttermost darkness. Here was neither beginning nor end—only an awful void in which he groped alone....

Sörine and Kjersti had both arrived a long time since. When they had come he had put on his coat and gone outside; but he hadn’t been able to tear himself many steps away from the house.

Now it was evening; he had wandered into the stable to milk Rosie, forgetting that she had gone dry long ago; he had tended to Injun and the oxen, without knowing what he was about.... He listened to Beret wailing in the other room, and his heart shrivelled; thus a weak human being could not continue to suffer, and yet live.... And this was his own Beret!

He stood in the door of the stable, completely undone. Just then Kjersti ran out to find him; he must come in at once; Beret was asking for him!... Kjersti was gone in a flash.... He entered the house, took off his outdoor clothes, and washed his hands....

... Beret sat half dressed on the edge of the bed. He looked at her, and thought that he had never seen such terror on any face.... God in heaven—this was beyond human endurance!

She was fully rational, and asked the neighbour women to leave the room for a moment, as she had something to say to her husband. She spoke with great composure; they obeyed immediately. When the door closed behind them Beret rose and came over to him, her face distorted. She laid a hand on each of his shoulders, and looked deep into his eyes, then clasped her hands behind his neck and pulled him violently toward her. Putting his arms firmly around her, he lifted her up gently and carried her to the bed; there he laid her down. He started to pull the covers over her.... But she held on to him; his solicitous care she heeded not at all.

When he had freed himself, she spoke brokenly, between gasps:

... “To-night I am leaving you.... Yes, I must leave you.... I know this is the end! The Lord has found me out because of my sins.... It is written, ‘To fall into the hands of the living God!’ ... Oh!—it is terrible!... I can’t see how you will get along when you are left alone ... though I have only been a burden to you lately.... You had better give And-Ongen to Kjersti ... she wants a child so badly—she is a kind woman.... You must take the boys with you—and go away from here!... How lonesome it will be for me ... to lie here all alone!”

Tears came to her eyes, but she did not weep; between moans she went on strongly and collectedly:

“But promise me one thing: put me away in the big chest!... I have emptied it and made it ready.... Promise to lay me away in the big chest, Per Hansa!... And you must be sure to dig the grave deep!... You haven’t heard how terribly the wolves howl at night!... Promise to take plenty of time and dig deep down—do you hear!”

His wife’s request cut Per Hansa’s heart like sharp ice; he threw himself on his knees beside the bed and wiped the cold perspiration from her face with a shaking hand.

... “There now, blessed Beret-girl of mine!” ... His words sounded far off—a note of frenzy in them.... “Can’t you understand that this will soon be over?... To-morrow you’ll be as chipper as a lark again!”

Her terror tore her only the worse. Without heeding his words, she spoke with great force out of the clearness of her vision:

“I shall die to-night.... Take the big chest!... At first I thought of asking you not to go away when spring came ... and leave me here alone.... But that would be a sin!... I tell you, you must go!... Leave as soon as spring comes! Human beings cannot exist here!... They grow into beasts....”

The throes were tearing her so violently now that she could say no more. But when she saw him rise she made a great effort and sat up in bed.

... “Oh!—don’t leave me!—don’t go away!... Can’t you see how sorely I need you?... And now I shall die!... Love me—oh, do love me once more, Per Hansa!” ... She leaned her body toward him.... “You must go back to Norway.... Take the children with you ... let them grow up there. Ask father and mother to forgive me!... Tell father that I am lying in the big chest!... Can’t you stay with me to-night ... stay with me and love me?... Oh!—there they come for me!”

Beret gave a long shriek that rent the night. Then she sobbed violently, praying that they should not take her away from Per Hansa....

Per Hansa leaped to his feet, and found his voice.

“Satan—now you shall leave her alone!” he shouted, flinging the door open and calling loudly to the women outside. Then he vanished into the darkness.

No one thought of seeking rest that night. All the evening, lights shone from the four huts; later they were extinguished in two of them; but in the house of Hans Olsa four men sat on, grieving over the way things were going at Per Hansa’s. When they could bear the suspense no longer some one proposed going over to get news.

Tönseten offered to go first.... When he came back little sense could be gathered from what he said. He had not been allowed inside; the women were in a frenzy; the house was completely upset; Beret was wailing so loud that it was dreadful to hear. And Per Hansa himself was nowhere to be found.... “We must go and look for him, boys!... Haven’t you got a Bible or something to read from, Hans Olsa? This is an awful thing!”

... There they sat, each occupied with his own thoughts—but all their thoughts were of the same trend. If Beret died to-night, it would go hard with Per Hansa—indeed it would. In that case he probably wouldn’t stay out here very long.... But if he went away, the rest of them might as well pack up and go, too!

Sam ran over to inquire; then Henry; at last it was Hans Olsa’s turn. He managed to get a couple of words with his wife, who said that Beret would hardly stand it. No one had seen Per Hansa.

“Can you imagine where the man can be keeping himself?” asked Tönseten, giving voice to the fear that oppressed them all.... “May the Lord preserve his wits, even if He chooses to take his wife away!” ...

Per Hansa walked to and fro outside the hut all night long; when he heard some one coming he would run away into the darkness. He could not speak to a living soul to-night. As soon as the visitor had gone he would approach the hut again, circle around it, stop, and listen. Tears were streaming down his face, though he was not aware of it.... Every shriek that pierced the walls of the hut drove him off as if a whip had struck him; but as soon as it had died out, something would draw him back again. At intervals he went to the door and held it ajar.... What did Per Hansa care for custom and decency, now that his Beret lay struggling with death!... Each time Sörine came to the door; each time she shook her head sadly, and told him there was no change yet; it was doubtful if Beret would be able to pull through; no person could endure this much longer; God have mercy on all of them!

That was all the comfort Sörine could give him.... Then he would rush off into the darkness again, to continue his endless pacing; when daylight came they found a hard path tramped into the snow around the hut.

The night was well-nigh spent when the wails in there began to weaken—then died out completely, and did not come again. Per Hansa crept up to the door, laid his ear close to it, and listened.... So now the end had come! His breath seemed to leave him in a great sob. The whole prairie began to whirl around with him; he staggered forward a few steps and threw himself face downward on the snow.

... But then suddenly things didn’t seem so bad to him ... really not so bad.... He saw a rope ... a rope.... It was a good, strong rope that would hold anything.... It hung just inside the barn door—and the crossbeam ran just there!... No trick at all to find these things. Per Hansa felt almost happy at the thought; that piece of rope was good and strong—and the crossbeam ran just there!

... A door opened somewhere; a gleam of light flashed across the snow, and vanished. Some one came out of the hut quietly—then stopped, as if searching.

“Per Hansa!” a low voice called.... “Per Hansa, where are you?” ... He rose and staggered toward Kjersti like a drunken man.

“You must come in at once!” she whispered, and hurried in before him.

The light was dim in there; nevertheless it blinded him so strongly that he could not see a thing. He stood a moment leaning against the door until his eyes had grown accustomed to it.... A snug, cosy warmth enveloped him; it carried with it an odd, pleasant odour. The light, the warmth, and the pleasant smell overcame him like sweet sleep that holds a person who has been roused, but who does not care to awaken just yet.

“How is it?” he heard a man’s voice ask. Then he came back to his senses.... Was that he himself speaking?...

“You’ll have to ask Sörrina,” Kjersti answered.

Sörine was tending something on the bed; not until now did he discover her—and wake up completely.... What was this?... the expression on her face? Wasn’t it beaming with motherly goodness and kindliness?

“Yes, here’s your little fellow! I have done all I know how. Come and look at him.... It’s the greatest miracle I ever saw, Per Hansa, that you didn’t lose your wife to-night, and the child too!... I pray the Lord I never have to suffer so!”

“Is there any hope?” was all Per Hansa could gasp—and then he clenched his teeth.

“It looks so, now—but you had better christen him at once.... We had to handle him roughly, let me tell you.”

“Christen him?” Per Hansa repeated, unable to comprehend the words.

“Why, yes, of course. I wouldn’t wait, if he were mine.”

Per Hansa heard no more—for now Beret turned her head and a wave of such warm joy welled up in him that all the ice melted. He found himself crying softly, sobbing like a child.... He approached the bed on tiptoe, bent over it, and gazed down into the weary, pale face. It lay there so white and still; her hair, braided in two thick plaits, flowed over the pillow. All the dread, all the tormenting fear that had so long disfigured her features, had vanished completely.... She turned her head a little, barely opened her eyes, and said, wearily:

“Oh, leave me in peace, Per Hansa.... Now I was sleeping so well.”

... The eyelids immediately closed.

XII

Per Hansa stood for a long time looking at his wife, hardly daring to believe what he saw. She slept peacefully; a small bundle lay beside her, from which peeped out a tiny, red, wrinkled face.... As he continued to gaze at her he sensed clearly that this moment was making him a better man!

At last he gathered his wits sufficiently to turn to Sörine and ask:

“Tell me, what sort of a fellow is this you have brought me—a boy or a girl?”

“Heavens! Per Hansa, how silly you talk!” ... Kjersti and Sörine both had to laugh as they looked at Per Hansa; such a foolish, simple expression they had never seen on the face of a living man!... But Sörine immediately grew serious once more, and said that this was no time for joking; the way they had tugged and pulled at him during the night, you couldn’t tell what might happen; Per Hansa must get the child christened right away; if he put it off, she refused to be responsible.

A puzzled expression came over the grinning face.

“You’d better do that christening yourself, Sörrina!”

—No!—she shook her head emphatically. That wasn’t a woman’s job—he must understand!... “And you ought to have it done with proper decorum, and thank the Lord for doing so well by you!”

Without another word Per Hansa found his cap and went to the door; but there he paused a moment to say:

“I know only one person around here who is worthy to perform such an act; since you are unwilling, I must go and get him.... In the meanwhile, you make ready what we will need; the hymn book you’ll find on the shelf over by the window.... I won’t be long!”

The kindly eyes of Sörine beamed with joy and pride; she knew very well the one he intended to get; this was really handsome of Per Hansa!... But then another thought crossed her mind; she followed him out, and closed the door after her.

“Wait a minute,” she said. “I must tell you that your boy had the helmet13 on when he came!... I think you ought to find a very beautiful name for him!”

“What are you saying, Sörrina!”

“Yes, sir—that he had!... And you know what that means!”

Per Hansa drew his sleeve across his face—then turned and walked away. A moisture dimmed his eyes—he could not see....

Outside it was now broad daylight; the sun stood some distance up in the sky, looking down on a desolate earth. It was going to be cold to-day, Per Hansa noticed; clouds of frosty mist like huge writhing serpents curled over the surface of the purplish-yellow plain. The sunbeams plunging into them kindled a weird light. He tingled with the cold; his eyelashes froze together so that he had to rub them with his mittens to keep them free.

... How remarkable—the child had been born with the helmet on!... He quickened his pace; in a moment he was running....

“Peace be upon this house, and a merry Christmas, folks!” he greeted them as he entered Hans Olsa’s door.... The room was cold; the Solum boys lay in one bed, fully dressed; both were so sound asleep that they did not wake up at his coming. His own children and Sofie lay in the other bed, Ole by himself down at the foot, the other three on the pillow; Store-Hans held And-Ongen close, as if trying to protect her. Hans Olsa and Tönseten had moved their chairs up to the stove, and sat hunched over on either side; Tönseten was nodding, the other was wide awake; both men jumped up when Per Hansa came in, and stood staring at him.

Per Hansa had to laugh outright at them; they were looking at him as if they had seen a ghost. But to the two men his laugh sounded pleasanter than anything they had heard in many a year.

“How are things coming?” asked Tönseten, excitedly, working his shoulders.

“Oh, it might have been worse!”

Hans Olsa grasped his hand: “Will she pull through?”

“It looks that way.”

Then Tönseten suddenly seemed to realize that it was cold in the room; he began to walk around, beating goose with his arms.... “I’m ready to bet both my horses that it’s a boy! I can see it in your face!” he exclaimed, still beating.

“All signs point that way, Syvert! But he’s in pretty poor condition, Sörrina tells me.... Now look here, Hans Olsa: it’s up to you to come over and christen the boy for me!”

Hans Olsa looked terror-stricken at his neighbour.... “You must be crazy, Per Hansa!”

“Nothing of the kind, Hans Olsa.... You just get yourself ready.... It’s all written down in the hymn book—what to say, and how to go about it.”

“No, no—I couldn’t think of such a thing!” protested Hans Olsa, all of a tremble with the feeling of awe that had suddenly taken possession of him.... “A sinner like me!” ...

Then Per Hansa made a remark that Tönseten thought was extremely well put:

“How you stand with the Lord I don’t know. But this I do know: that a better man either on land or sea, He will have to look a long way to find.... And it seems to me that He has got to take that, too, into His reckoning!”

But Hans Olsa only stood there in terror.... “You’d better ask Syvert to do it!”

Then Tönseten grew alarmed:

“Don’t stand there talking like a fool!... We all know that if one of us two is to tackle this job, it must be you, Hans Olsa.... There is nothing for you to do but go at once; this business won’t stand any dilly-dallying, let me tell you!”

Hans Olsa gazed straight ahead; his helplessness grew so great that he was funny to look at; but no one thought of laughing, just the same.... “If it only won’t be blasphemy!” ... He finally struggled into his big coat and put on his mittens. Then he turned to Tönseten.... “The book says: ‘In an extreme emergency a layman may perform this act’—isn’t that so?”

“Yes, yes—just so!... Whatever else you’ll need, is written there too!”

Through the frosty morning the two men walked silently across the prairie, Per Hansa in the lead. When they had covered half the distance he stopped short and said to his neighbour:

“If it had been a girl, you see, she should have been named Beret—I decided that a long while ago.... But seeing that it’s a boy, we’ll have to name him Per; you must say Peder, of course!... I’ve thought a good deal about Joseph—he was a pretty fine lad, no doubt.... But grandfather’s name was Per, and there wasn’t a braver, worthier man on that part of the coast; so it’ll just have to be Per again this time.... But say, now—” Per Hansa paused a moment, pondering; then he looked up at his neighbour, and his eyes began to gleam.... “The boy must have a second name—so you’d better christen him Peder Seier!14 ... The last is after your Sörrina.... She has done me a greater service this night than I can ever repay! And now the boy is to be named after her!”

Hans Olsa could think of nothing to say in answer to all this. They walked on in silence....

When they came into the room, they stepped across the threshold reverently. An air of Sabbath had descended on the room. The sun shone brightly through the window, spreading a golden lustre over the white walls; only along the north wall, where the bed stood, a half shadow lingered.... The fire crackled in the stove; the coffeepot was boiling. The table had been spread with a white cover; upon it lay the open hymn book, with the page turned down. Beside the hymn book stood a bowl of water; beside that lay a piece of white cloth.... Kjersti was tending the stove, piling the wood in diligently.... Sörine sat in the corner, crooning over a tiny bundle; out of the bundle at intervals came faint, wheezy chirrups, like the sounds that rise from a nest of young birds.

An irresistible force drew Per Hansa to the bed.... She lay sound asleep.... Thank God, that awful look of dread had not come back! He straightened himself up and glanced around the room; never before had he seen anything that looked so beautiful....

Sörine got up, went to the table, and bared a little rosy human head.

“If you are going to be the minister here,” she said, turning to her husband, who had remained standing motionless at the door, “then you must hurry up and get ready.... First of all you must wash your hands.”

The next moment they had all gathered around the table.

“Here’s the book.... Just read it out as well as you can, and we’ll do whatever the book says,” Sörine encouraged her husband. She seemed to have taken charge of the ceremony, and spoke in low, reassuring tones, as if she had done nothing else all her life but attend to such duties; and it was her confidence that gave Hans Olsa the courage he needed.... He went up to the table, took the book, and read the ritual in a trembling voice, slowly, with many pauses. And so he christened the child Peder Victorious, pronouncing the name clearly. Whereupon he said the Lord’s Prayer so beautifully, that Kjersti exclaimed she had never heard the like.

“There, now!” said Kjersti with great emphasis. “I don’t believe there is a thing lacking to make this christening perfectly correct!... Now the coffee is ready and we’re all going to have a cup.”

But Per Hansa was searching over in the corner; at last he produced a bottle. First he treated Sörine; then Kjersti.... “If ever two people have earned something good, you two are it!... Come on, now, have another little drop!... And hurry up about it, please! Hans Olsa and I feel pretty weak in the knees ourselves!”

... After a while both food and drink were served.... “It looks as if we were going to have a real Christmas, after all!” said Per Hansa with a laugh, as they sat around the table enjoying their coffee.