one day succeeded another; for there was plenty to do and to see. The
sea itself was a great lesson book, unfolding a new leaf every day,
such as calm and storm, breakers and waifs. The visits to the church
were festal visits. But among the festal visits in the fisherman's
house, one was particularly distinguished. It was repeated twice in
the year, and was, in fact, the visit of the brother of Juergen's
foster-mother, the eel breeder from Zjaltring, upon the neighbourhood
of the "Bow Hill." He used to come in a cart painted red, and filled
with eels. The cart was covered and locked like a box, and painted all
over with blue and white tulips. It was drawn by two dun oxen, and
Juergen was allowed to guide them.
The eel breeder was a witty fellow, a merry guest, and brought a
measure of brandy with him. Every one received a small glassful, or a
cupful when there was a scarcity of glasses: even Juergen had as much
as a large thimbleful, that he might digest the fat eel, the eel
breeder said, who always told the same story over again, and when his
hearers laughed he immediately told it over again to the same
audience. As, during his childhood, and even later, Juergen used many
expressions from this story of the eel breeder's, and made use of it
in various ways, it is as well that we should listen to it too. Here
it is:
"The eels went into the bay; and the mother-eel said to her daughters,
who begged leave to go a little way up the bay, 'Don't go too far: the
ugly eel spearer might come and snap you all up.' But they went too
far; and of eight daughters only three came back to the eel-mother,
and these wept and said, 'We only went a little way before the door,
and the ugly eel spearer came directly, and stabbed five of our party
to death.' 'They'll come again,' said the mother-eel. 'Oh no,'
exclaimed the daughters, 'for he skinned them, and cut them in two,
and fried them.' 'Oh, they'll come again,' the mother-eel persisted.
'No,' replied the daughters, 'for he ate them up.' 'They'll come
again,' repeated the mother-eel. 'But he drank brandy after them,'
continued the daughters. 'Ah, then they'll never come back,' said the
mother, and she burst out crying, 'It's the brandy that buries the
eels.'
"And therefore," said the eel breeder, in conclusion, "it is always
right to take brandy after eating eels."
[Illustration: THE EEL BREEDER'S VISIT.]
And this story was the tinsel thread, the most humorous recollection
of Juergen's life. _He_ likewise wanted to go a little way outside the
door, and up the bay--that is to say, out into the world in a ship;
and his mother said, like the eel breeder, "There are so many bad
people--eel spearers!" But he wished to go a little way past the
sand-hills, a little way into the dunes, and he succeeded in doing so.
Four merry days, the happiest of his childhood, unrolled themselves,
and the whole beauty and splendour of Jutland, all the joy and
sunshine of his home, was concentrated in these. He was to go to a
festival--though it was certainly a burial feast.
A wealthy relative of the fisherman's family had died. The farm lay
deep in the country, eastward, and a point towards the north, as the
saying is. Juergen's foster-parents were to go, and he was to accompany
them from the dunes, across heath and moor. They came to the green
meadows where the river Skjaern rolls its course, the river of many
eels, where mother-eels dwell with their daughters, who are caught and
eaten up by wicked people. But men were said sometimes to have acted
no better towards their own fellow men; for had not the knight, Sir
Bugge, been murdered by wicked people? and though he was well spoken
of, had he not wanted to kill the architect, as the legend tells us,
who had built for him the castle, with the thick walls and tower,
where Juergen and his parents now stood, and where the river falls into
the bay? The wall on the ramparts still remained, and red crumbling
fragments lay strewn around. Here it was that Sir Bugge, after the
architect had left him, said to one of his men, "Go thou after him,
and say, 'Master, the tower shakes.' If he turns round, you are to
kill him, and take from him the money I paid him; but if he does not
turn round, let him depart in peace." The man obeyed, and the
architect never turned round, but called back, "The tower does not
shake in the least, but one day there will come a man from the west,
in a blue cloak, who will cause it to shake!" And indeed so it
chanced, a hundred years later; for the North Sea broke in, and the
tower was cast down, but the man who then possessed the castle,
Prebjoern Gyldenstjerne, built a new castle higher up, at the end of
the meadow, and that stands to this day, and is called Noerre Vosborg.
Past this castle went Juergen and his foster-parents. They had told him
its story during the long winter evenings, and now he saw the lordly
castle, with its double moat, and trees, and bushes; the wall, covered
with ferns, rose within the moat; but most beautiful of all were the
lofty lime trees, which grew up to the highest windows, and filled the
air with sweet fragrance. In a corner of the garden towards the
north-west stood a great bush full of blossom like winter snow amid
the summer's green: it was a juniper bush, the first that Juergen had
seen thus in bloom. He never forgot it, nor the lime tree: the child's
soul treasured up these remembrances of beauty and fragrance to
gladden the old man.
From Noerre Vosborg, where the juniper blossomed, the way went more
easily; for they encountered other guests who were also bound for the
burial, and were riding in waggons. Our travellers had to sit all
together on a little box at the back of the waggon, but even this was
preferable to walking, they thought. So they pursued their journey in
the waggon across the rugged heath. The oxen which drew the vehicle
slipped every now and then, where a patch of fresh grass appeared amid
the heather. The sun shone warm, and it was wonderful to behold how in
the far distance something like smoke seemed to be rising; and yet
this smoke was clearer than the mist; it was transparent, and looked
like rays of light rolling and dancing afar over the heath.
"That is Lokeman driving his sheep," said some one; and this was
enough to excite the fancy of Juergen. It seemed to him as if they were
now going to enter fairyland, though everything was still real.
How quiet it was! Far and wide the heath extended around them like a
beautiful carpet. The heather bloomed; the juniper bushes and the
fresh oak saplings stood up like nosegays from the earth. An inviting
place for a frolic, if it were not for the number of poisonous adders
of which the travellers spoke, as they did also of the wolves which
formerly infested the place, from which circumstance the region was
still called the Wolfsborg region. The old man who guided the oxen
related how, in the lifetime of his father, the horses had to sustain
many a hard fight with the wild beasts that were now extinct; and how
he himself, when he went out one morning to bring in the horses, had
found one of them standing with its fore-feet on a wolf it had killed,
after the savage beast had torn and lacerated the legs of the brave
horse.
The journey over the heath and the deep sand was only too quickly
accomplished. They stopped before the house of mourning, where they
found plenty of guests within and without. Waggon after waggon stood
ranged in a row, and horses and oxen went out to crop the scanty
pasture. Great sand-hills, like those at home in the North Sea, rose
behind the house, and extended far and wide. How had they come here,
miles into the interior of the land, and as large and high as those on
the coast? The wind had lifted and carried them hither, and to them
also a history was attached.
Psalms were sung, and a few of the old people shed tears; beyond this,
the guests were cheerful enough, as it appeared to Juergen, and there
was plenty to eat and drink. Eels there were of the fattest, upon
which brandy should be poured to bury them, as the eel breeder said;
and certainly his maxim was here carried out.
Juergen went to and fro in the house. On the third day he felt quite at
home, like as in the fisherman's hut on the sand-hills where he had
passed his early days. Here on the heath there was certainly an
unheard-of wealth, for the flowers and blackberries and bilberries
were to be found in plenty, so large and sweet, that when they were
crushed beneath the tread of the passers by, the heath was coloured
with their red juice.
Here was a Hun's Grave, and yonder another. Columns of smoke rose into
the still air; it was a heath-fire, he was told, that shone so
splendidly in the dark evening.
Now came the fourth day, and the funeral festivities were to conclude,
and they were to go back from the land-dunes to the sand-dunes.
"Ours are the best," said the old fisherman, Juergen's foster-father;
"these have no strength."
And they spoke of the way in which the sand-dunes had come into the
country, and it seemed all very intelligible. This was the explanation
they gave:
A corpse had been found on the coast, and the peasants had buried it
in the churchyard; and from that time the sand began to fly, and the
sea broke in violently. A wise man in the parish advised them to open
the grave and to look if the buried man was not lying sucking his
thumb; for if so, he was a man of the sea, and the sea would not rest
until it had got him back. So the grave was opened, and he really was
found with his thumb in his mouth. So they laid him upon a cart and
harnessed two oxen before it; and as if stung by an adder, the oxen
ran away with the man of the sea over heath and moorland to the ocean;
and then the sand ceased flying inland, but the hills that had been
heaped up still remained there. All this Juergen heard and treasured in
his memory from the happiest days of his childhood, the days of the
burial feast. How glorious it was to get out into strange regions, and
to see strange people! And he was to go farther still. He was not yet
fourteen years old when he went out in a ship to see what the world
could show him: bad weather, heavy seas, malice, and hard men--these
were his experiences, for he became a ship boy. There were cold
nights, and bad living, and blows to be endured; then he felt as if
his noble Spanish blood boiled within him, and bitter wicked words
seethed up to his lips; but it was better to gulp them down, though he
felt as the eel must feel when it is flayed and cut up, and put into
the frying-pan.
"I shall come again!" said a voice within him. He saw the Spanish
coast, the native land of his parents. He even saw the town where they
had lived in happiness and prosperity; but he knew nothing of his home
or race, and his race knew just as little about him.
The poor ship boy was not allowed to land; but on the last day of
their stay he managed to get ashore. There were several purchases to
be made, and he was to carry them on board.
There stood Juergen in his shabby clothes, which looked as if they had
been washed in the ditch and dried in the chimney: for the first time
he, the inhabitant of the dunes, saw a great city. How lofty the
houses seemed, and how full of people were the streets! some pushing
this way, some that--a perfect maelstrom of citizens and peasants,
monks and soldiers--a calling and shouting, and jingling of
bell-harnessed asses and mules, and the church bells chiming between
song and sound, hammering and knocking, all going on at once. Every
handicraft had its home in the basements of the houses or in the
lanes; and the sun shone so hotly, and the air was so close, that one
seemed to be in an oven full of beetles, cockchafers, bees, and flies,
all humming and murmuring together. Juergen hardly knew where he was or
which way he went. Then he saw just in front of him the mighty portal
of the cathedral; the lights were gleaming in the dark aisles, and a
fragrance of incense was wafted towards him. Even the poorest beggar
ventured up the steps into the temple. The sailor with whom Juergen
went took his way through the church; and Juergen stood in the
sanctuary. Coloured pictures gleamed from their golden ground. On the
altar stood the figure of the Virgin with the child Jesus, surrounded
by lights and flowers; priests in festive garb were chanting, and
choir boys, beautifully attired, swung the silver censer. What
splendour, what magnificence did he see here! It streamed through his
soul and overpowered him; the church and the faith of his parents
surrounded him, and touched a chord in his soul, so that the tears
overflowed his eyes.
From the church they went to the market-place. Here a quantity of
provisions were given him to carry. The way to the harbour was long,
and, tired and overpowered by various emotions, he rested for a few
moments before a splendid house, with marble pillars, statues, and
broad staircases. Here he rested his burden against the wall. Then a
liveried porter came out, lifted up a silver-headed cane, and drove
him away--him, the grandson of the house. But no one there knew that,
and he just as little as any one. And afterwards he went on board
again, and there were hard words and cuffs, little sleep and much
work; such were his experiences. They say that it is well to suffer in
youth, if age brings something to make up for it.
His time of servitude on shipboard had expired, and the vessel lay
once more at Ringkjoebing, in Jutland: he came ashore and went home to
the sand-dunes by Hunsby; but his foster-mother had died while he was
away on his voyage.
A hard winter followed that summer. Snowstorms swept over land and
sea, and there was a difficulty in getting about. How variously things
were distributed in the world! here biting cold and snowstorms, while
in the Spanish land there was burning sunshine and oppressive heat.
And yet, when here at home there came a clear frosty day, and Juergen
saw the swans flying in numbers from the sea towards the land, and
across to Vosborg, it appeared to him that people could breathe most
freely here; and here too was a splendid summer! In imagination he saw
the heath bloom and grow purple with rich juicy berries, and saw the
elder trees and the lime trees at Vosborg in blossom. He determined to
go there once more.
Spring came on, and the fishery began. Juergen was an active assistant
in this; he had grown in the last year, and was quick at work. He was
full of life, he understood how to swim, to tread water, to turn over
and tumble in the flood. They often warned him to beware of the troops
of dogfish, which could seize the best swimmer, and draw him down, and
devour him; but such was not Juergen's fate.
At the neighbour's on the dune was a boy named Martin, with whom
Juergen was very friendly, and the two took service in the same ship to
Norway, and also went together to Holland; and they had never had any
quarrel; but a quarrel can easily come, for when a person is hot by
nature, he often uses strong gestures, and that is what Juergen did one
day on board when they had a quarrel about nothing at all. They were
sitting behind the cabin door, eating out of a delf plate which they
had placed between them. Juergen held his pocket-knife in his hand, and
lifted it against Martin, and at the same time became ashy pale in the
face, and his eyes had an ugly look. Martin only said,
"Ah! ha! you 're one of that sort, who are fond of using the knife!"
Hardly were the words spoken, when Juergen's hand sank down. He
answered not a syllable, but went on eating, and afterwards walked
away to his work. When they were resting again, he stepped up to
Martin, and said,
"You may hit me in the face! I have deserved it. But I feel as if I
had a pot in me that boiled over."
"There let the thing rest," replied Martin; and after that they were
almost doubly as good friends as before; and when afterwards they got
back to the dunes and began telling their adventures, this was told
among the rest; and Martin said that Juergen was certainly passionate,
but a good fellow for all that.
They were both young and strong, well-grown and stalwart; but Juergen
was the cleverer of the two.
In Norway the peasants go into the mountains, and lead out the cattle
there to pasture. On the west coast of Jutland, huts have been erected
among the sand-hills; they are built of pieces of wreck, and roofed
with turf and heather. There are sleeping-places around the walls, and
here the fisher people live and sleep during the early spring. Every
fisherman has his female helper, his manager, as she is called, whose
business consists in baiting the hooks, preparing the warm beer for
the fishermen when they come ashore, and getting their dinners cooked
when they come back into the hut tired and hungry. Moreover, the
managers bring up the fish from the boat, cut them open, prepare them,
and have generally a great deal to do.
Juergen, his father, and several other fishermen and their managers
inhabited the same hut; Martin lived in the next one.
One of the girls, Else by name, had known Juergen from childhood: they
were glad to see each other, and in many things were of the same mind;
but in outward appearance they were entirely opposite; for he was
brown, whereas she was pale and had flaxen hair, and eyes as blue as
the sea in sunshine.
One day as they were walking together, and Juergen held her hand in his
very firmly and warmly, she said to him,
"Juergen, I have something weighing upon my heart! Let me be your
manager, for you are like a brother to me, whereas Martin, who has
engaged me--he and I are lovers----but you need not tell that to the
rest."
And it seemed to Juergen as if the loose sand were giving way under his
feet. He spoke not a word, but only nodded his head, which signified
"yes." More was not required; but suddenly he felt in his heart that
he detested Martin; and the longer he considered of this--for he had
never thought of Else in this way before--the more did it become clear
to him that Martin had stolen from him the only being he loved; and
now it was all at once plain to him, that Else was the being in
question.
When the sea is somewhat disturbed, and the fishermen come home in
their great boat, it is a sight to behold how they cross the reefs.
One of the men stands upright in the bow of the boat, and the others
watch him, sitting with the oars in their hands. Outside the reef they
appear to be rowing not towards the land, but backing out to sea, till
the man standing in the boat gives them the sign that the great wave
is coming which is to float them across the reef; and accordingly the
boat is lifted--lifted high in the air, so that its keel is seen from
the shore; and in the next minute the whole boat is hidden from the
eye; neither mast nor keel nor people can be seen, as though the sea
had devoured them; but in a few moments they emerge like a great sea
animal climbing up the waves, and the oars move as if the creature had
legs. The second and the third reef are passed in the same manner; and
now the fishermen jump into the water; every wave helps them, and
pushes the boat well forward, till at length they have drawn it beyond
the range of the breakers.
A wrong order given in front of the reef--the slightest
hesitation--and the boat must founder.
"Then it would be all over with me, and Martin too!" This thought
struck Juergen while they were out at sea, where his foster-father had
been taken alarmingly ill. The fever had seized him. They were only a
few oars' strokes from the reef, and Juergen sprang from his seat, and
stood up in the bow.
"Father--let me come!" he said; and his eye glanced towards Martin,
and across the waves: but while every oar bent with the exertions of
the rowers, as the great wave came towering towards them, he beheld
the pale face of his father, and dare not obey the evil impulse that
had seized him. The boat came safely across the reef to land, but the
evil thought remained in his blood, and roused up every little fibre
of bitterness which had remained in his memory since he and Martin had
been comrades. But he could not weave the fibres together, nor did he
endeavour to do so. He felt that Martin had despoiled him, and this
was enough to make him detest his former friend. Several of the
fishermen noticed this, but not Martin, who continued obliging and
talkative--the latter a little too much.
Juergen's adopted father had to keep his bed, which became his
deathbed, for in the next week he died; and now Juergen was installed
as heir in the little house behind the sand-hills. It was but a little
house, certainly, but still it was something, and Martin had nothing
of the kind.
"You will not take sea service again, Juergen?" observed one of the old
fishermen. "You will always stay with us, now."
But this was not Juergen's intention, for he was just thinking of
looking about him a little in the world. The eel breeder of Zjaltring
had an uncle in Alt-Skage, who was a fisherman, but at the same time a
prosperous merchant, who had ships upon the sea; he was said to be a
good old man, and it would not be amiss to enter his service.
Alt-Skage lies in the extreme north of Jutland, as far removed from
the Hunsby dunes as one can travel in that country; and this is just
what pleased Juergen, for he did not want to remain till the wedding of
Martin and Else, which was to be celebrated in a few weeks.
[Illustration: ELSE AFFIRMS HER PREFERENCE FOR MARTIN.]
The old fisherman asserted that it was foolish now to quit the
neighbourhood; for that Juergen had a home, and Else would probably be
inclined to take him rather than Martin.
Juergen answered so much at random, that it was not easy to understand
what he meant; but the old man brought Else to him, and she said, "You
have a home now; that ought to be well considered."
And Juergen thought of many things.
The sea has heavy waves, but there are heavier waves in the human
heart. Many thoughts, strong and weak, thronged through Juergen's
brain; and he said to Else,
"If Martin had a house like mine, whom would you rather have?"
"But Martin has no house, and cannot get one."
"But let us suppose he had one."
"Why then I would certainly take Martin, for that's what my heart
tells me; but one can't live upon that."
And Juergen thought of these things all night through. Something was
working within him, he could not understand what it was, but he had a
thought that was stronger than his love for Else; and so he went to
Martin, and what he said and did there was well considered. He let the
house to Martin on the most liberal terms, saying that he wished to go
to sea again, because it pleased him to do so. And Else kissed him on
the mouth when she heard that, for she loved Martin best.
In the early morning Juergen purposed to start. On the evening before
his departure, when it was already growing late, he felt a wish to
visit Martin once more; he started, and among the dunes the old fisher
met him, who was angry at his going. The old man made jokes about
Martin, and declared there must be some magic about that fellow, "of
whom all the girls were so fond." Juergen paid no heed to this speech,
but said farewell to the old man, and went on towards the house where
Martin dwelt. He heard loud talking within. Martin was not alone, and
this made Juergen waver in his determination, for he did not wish to
encounter Else; and on second consideration, he thought it better not
to hear Martin thank him again, and therefore turned back.
On the following morning, before break of day, he fastened his
knapsack, took his wooden provision box in his hand, and went away
among the sand-hills towards the coast path. The way was easier to
traverse than the heavy sand road, and moreover shorter; for he
intended to go in the first instance to Zjaltring, by Bowberg, where
the eel breeder lived, to whom he had promised a visit.
The sea lay pure and blue before him, and mussel shells and sea
pebbles, the playthings of his youth, crunched under his feet. While
he was thus marching on, his nose suddenly began to bleed: it was a
trifling incident, but little things can have great significances. A
few large drops of blood fell upon one of his sleeves. He wiped them
off and stopped the bleeding, and it seemed to him as if this had
cleared and lightened his brain. In the sand the sea-eringa was
blooming here and there. He broke off a stalk and stuck it in his hat;
he determined to be merry and of good cheer, for he was going into the
wide world--"a little way outside the door, in front of the hay," as
the young eels had said. "Beware of bad people, who will catch you and
flay you, cut you in two, and put you in the frying-pan!" he repeated
in his mind, and smiled, for he thought he should find his way through
the world--good courage is a strong weapon!
The sun already stood high when he approached the narrow entrance to
Nissum Bay. He looked back, and saw a couple of horsemen gallopping a
long distance behind him, and they were accompanied by other people.
But this concerned him nothing.