He got up, took the boys with him, and began to carry things in from

the wagon. Most of the load they stored away in the house; some extra

things, however, had to find a temporary place in the stable.

At length Per Hansa brought in a small armful of bottles and set them

on the table.

“Come here, Beret-girl of mine! You have earned a good drink, and a

good drink you shall have!” ... He went over to the water pail with the

coffee cup from which he had just been drinking, rinsed it out with a

little water, and emptied it on the floor; then he poured out a good

half cupful of whisky and offered it to her. She put out her hand as if

to push him away.... Yes, indeed, she would have to take it, he told

her, putting his arm around her waist and lifting the cup to her

lips. She took the cup and emptied it in one draught.... “There, that’s

a good little wife!... You’re going to have just another little drop!”

He went to the table again and poured out a second drink, but not so

much this time. “Two legs, and one for each! Just drink it down!... And

now you take care of the bottles!”

That was a busy day in the humble dwelling of Per Hansa. First of all,

he had promised a load of potatoes to the Hallings, who waited back

east somewhere under a bleak sky, without even a potato peeling to put

in their pot; he must carry food to them. When Beret heard how poorly

things were in that hut—about the woman with the drawn cheeks and the

starved look in her eyes—she straightway began to hurry him up; he must

go while he had the horses and wagon here. Couldn’t he get started

to-day?

“Not so hasty there, my girl, not so hasty!” laughed Per Hansa, his

face beaming.... “I’m not going to sleep with any _Halling woman_

to-night—that I can tell you!”

Now he was his old irresistible self again. How strong, how precious

to her, he seemed!... She felt a loving impulse to grasp his hair and

shake him....

Ole was immediately put to work knitting the net. The father had

already knitted four fathoms of it, by the light of the camp fire the

night before; he had sat up working over the net long after the others

had turned in.... The boys grew wild with enthusiasm at the sight of

the net; were they going fishing in the Sioux River? Both of them

immediately began begging to be taken along.... “Just keep your fingers

moving, Olamand—hurry them up, I tell you!” ... The father made a great

mystery of it, and refused to give any further explanation.

As for himself and Store-Hans, they busied themselves over the lime;

it was all carried inside and placed in a corner where no moisture

could reach it. The preparations for the mixing required a good deal

of work; the first thing was to make a wooden box sufficiently tight

to hold water. Well, there was plenty of lumber now, at any rate! Per

Hansa built the box and carried it down to the creek; there he

placed it under water, hoping that it would swell enough to be tight by

the time he needed it.

Evening fell all too soon on a wonderfully busy and joyful day. The

boys were at last in bed, fast asleep.

But Per Hansa had no time for rest; to-night that net simply had to

be finished. He finally made Beret go to bed, but she wasn’t a bit

sleepy; she lay there talking to him and filling the shuttles whenever

they were empty. He explained fully to her how he intended to use the

net; first he would set it in the Sioux River as he passed by there

to-morrow; he knew of just the place; he would leave it there until he

came back from the Hallings’. Unless the cards were stacked against him

he would bring back a nice mess of fish.... That, however, wasn’t his

great plan with the net, he told her; but she mustn’t say a word about

this to the boys. It was to be a big surprise for them; they were such

brave fellows! The fact of the matter was, he planned to catch _ducks_

with that net; that had been the real reason for his buying the twine;

there would be other fare than badger stew in this hut, he would just

let her know, if the weather only held a few days more!

All at once it occurred to Beret that she had forgotten to cover up the

windows to-night; she smiled to herself at the discovery.... What was

the need of it, anyway? Cover the windows ... what nonsense!... She

smiled again, feeling a languorous drowsiness creep over her.

Per Hansa knit away on the net, chatting happily with her as he worked;

a confident ring of joy sounded in all he said. He had fastened the

net to the bedpost, just as her father always had done. She listened

peacefully to his warm, cheerful voice, which after a while began to

sound more distant, like the indolent swish and gurgle of lapping ocean

waves on a fair summer’s night. Gradually she was borne away on this

sound, and slept the whole night through without stirring.

When she awoke next morning Per Hansa, still fully dressed, lay beside

her, over against the wall; he evidently had thrown himself down

to rest only a little while before. Light was creeping into the room;

directly in front of the bed lay a big white heap of something....

Those careless boys—had they thrown their clothes on the floor

again?... She stooped over to pick the clothes up and put them on the

bench; she grasped hold of the heap—and it was a new net, sheeted and

fully rigged, as a new net ought to be!

... Poor man!—he must have sat up all night!... She spread the quilt

carefully over him.

That morning Beret took some of the precious white flour and made a

batch of pancakes. He deserved to have one good meal before he went

away again!

He left right after breakfast. Beret worked industriously throughout

the day, while many thoughts came and went.... It must be her destiny,

this! There was One who governed all things.... He knew what was best,

and against His will it was useless to struggle!...

... Often that day she went to the window to look eastward. Every time

she looked, it seemed to be growing darker over there....

... That evening she again covered the window....

VI. The Heart that Dared Not Let in the Sun

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:

“Thy heavy wrath avert

From me, a wretched sinner;

Thy blissful mercy grant,

Father of love eternal!

“My sins are as many

As dust in the rays of the sun,

And as sands on the shore of the sea—

If by Thee requited,

I must sink benighted.

“Look with pity,

Tender Saviour,

At my wretched state!

Wounds of sin are burning;

May Thy hands, in love returning,

Heal my stinging stripes!

“Weighed by guilt I weary wander

In the desert here below;

When I measure

My transgressions,

Breaches of Thy holy law,

I must ponder

Oft, and wonder;

Canst Thou grace on me bestow?

“Gentle Saviour,

Cast my burden

Deep into the mercy-sea!

Blessed Jesus,

Mild Redeemer,

Thou Who gav’st Thy life for me!”

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

helmet[13] on when he came!... I think you ought to find a very

beautiful name for him!”

[13] The English equivalent is, “to be born with the caul.”

Considerable superstition has always been attached to this phenomenon

and in Norway especially so; a person born with the helmet on had been

singled out by Destiny for something extraordinary.

“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!”

[14] The name _Seier_, which means _Victorious_, was altogether unusual

to Norwegian ears. The English equivalent will be used from now on. As

this name plays such an important part in the psychology of Book II the

reader would do well to remember the Norwegian form.

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.

END OF BOOK I