Erica now profited by her lover's industry in the morning. He had so
far advanced with the raft that, though no one would have thought of
taking it in its present state to the mouth of the fiord for shipment,
it would serve as a conveyance in still water for a short distance
safely enough.
And still, indeed, the waters were. As Erica and Oddo were busily and
silently employed in tying moss round their oars to muffle their sound,
the ripple of the tide upon the white sand could scarcely be heard, and
it appeared to the eye as if the lingering remains of the daylight
brooded on the fiord, unwilling to depart. The stars had, however, been
showing themselves for some time; and they might now be seen twinkling
below almost as clearly and steadily as overhead. As Erica and Oddo put
their little raft off from the shore, and then waited, with their oars
suspended, to observe whether the tide carried them towards the islet
they must reach, it seemed as if some invisible hand was pushing them
forth to shiver the bright pavement of constellations as it lay. Star
after star was shivered, and its bright fragments danced in their wake;
and those fragments reunited and became a star again as the waters
closed over the path of the raft, and subsided into perfect stillness.
The tide favoured Erica's object. A few strokes of the oar brought the
raft to the right point for landing on the islet. They stepped ashore,
and towed the raft along till they came to the skiff, and then they
fastened the raft with the boat-hook which had been fixed there for the
skiff. This done, Oddo ran to turn over the little boat, and examine
its condition: but he found he could not move it. It was frozen fast to
the ground. It was scarcely possible to get a firm hold of it, it was
so slippery with ice; and all pulling and pushing of the two together
was in vain, though the boat was so light that either of them could have
lifted and carried it in a time of thaw.
This circumstance caused a good deal of delay: and, what was worse, it
obliged them to make some noise. They struck at the ice with sharp
stones; but it was long before they could make any visible impression;
and Erica proposed, again and again, that they should proceed on the
raft. Oddo was unwilling. The skiff would go so incomparably faster,
that it was worth spending some time upon it: and the fears he had had
of its leaking were removed, now that he found what a sheet of ice it
was covered with,--ice which would not melt to admit a drop of water
while they were in it. So he knocked and knocked away, wishing that the
echoes would be quiet for once, and then laughing as he imagined the
ghost-stories that would spring up all round the fiord to-morrow, from
the noise he was then making.
Erica worked hard too; and one advantage of their labour was that they
were well warmed before they put off again. The boat's icy fastenings
were all broken at last: and it was launched: but all was not ready yet.
The skiff had lain in a direction east and west; and its north side had
so much thicker a coating of ice than the other, that its balance was
destroyed. It hung so low on one side as to promise to upset with a
touch.
"We must clear off more of the ice," said Erica. "But how late it is
growing!"
"No more knocking, I say," replied Oddo. "There is a quieter way of
trimming the boat."
He fastened a few stones to the gunwale on the lighter side, and took in
a few more for the purpose of shifting the weight, if necessary, while
they were on their way.
They did not leave quiet behind them, when they departed. They had
roused the multitude of eider-ducks, and other sea-fowl, which thronged
the islet, and which now, being roused, began their night-feeding and
flying, though at an earlier hour than usual. When their discordant
cries were left so far behind as to be softened by distance, the
flapping of wings and swash of water, as the fowl plunged in, still made
the air busy all round.
The rowers were so occupied with the management of their dangerous
craft, that they had not spoken since they left the islet. The skiff
would have been unmanageable by any maiden and boy in our country; but,
on the coast of Norway, it is as natural to persons of all ages and
degrees to guide a boat as to walk. Swiftly but cautiously they shot
through the water, till, at length, Oddo uttered a most hideous croak.
"What do you mean?" asked Erica, hastily glancing round her.
Oddo laughed, and looked upwards as he croaked again. He was answered
by a similar croak, and a large raven was seen flying homewards over the
fiord for the night. Then the echoes all croaked, till the whole region
seemed to be full of ravens.
"Are you sure you know the cove?" asked Erica, who wished to put an end
to this sound, unwelcome to the superstitious. "Do not make that bird
croak so; it will be quiet if you let it alone. Are you sure you can
find the cove again?"
"Quite sure. I wish I was as sure that Hund would not find it again
before me. Pull away."
"How much farther is it?"
"Farther than I like to think of. I doubt your arm holding out. I wish
Rolf was here."
Erica did not wish the same thing. She thought that Rolf was, on the
whole, safer waging war with bears than with pirates; especially if Hund
was among them. She pulled her oar cheerfully, observing that there was
no fatigue at present; and that when they were once afloat in the
heavier boat, and had cleared the cove, there need be no hurry,--unless,
indeed, they should see something of the pirate-schooner on the way: and
of this she had no expectation, as the booty that might be had where the
fishery was beginning was worth more than anything that could be found
higher up the fiords:--to say nothing of the danger of running up into
the country, so far as that getting away again depended upon one
particular wind.
Yet Erica looked behind her after every few strokes of her oar; and
once, when she saw something, her start was felt like a start of the
skiff itself. There was a fire glancing and gleaming and quivering over
the water, some way down the fiord.
"Some people night-fishing," observed Oddo. "What sport they will have!
I wish I was with them. How fast we go! How you can row when you
choose! I can see the man that is holding the torch. Cannot you see
his black figure? And the spearman,--see how he stands at the bow,--now
going to cast his spear! I wish I was there."
"We must get farther away,--into the shadow somewhere,--or wait,"
observed Erica. "I had rather not wait,--it is growing so late. We
might creep along under that promontory, in the shadow, if you would be
quiet. I wonder whether you can be silent in the sight of
night-fishing."
"To be sure," said Oddo, disposed to be angry, and only kept from it by
the thought of last night. He helped to bring the skiff into the shadow
of the overhanging rocks, and only spoke once more, to whisper that the
fishing-boat was drifting down with the tide, and that he thought their
cove lay between them and the fishing-party.
It was so. As the skiff rounded the point of the promontory, Oddo
pointed out what appeared like a mere dark chasm in the high
perpendicular wall of rock that bounded the waters. This chasm still
looked so narrow, on approaching it, that Erica hesitated to push her
skiff into it, till certain that there was no one there. Oddo, however,
was so clear, that she might safely do this, so noiseless was their
rowing, and it was so plain that there was no footing on the rocks by
which he might enter to explore, that in a sort of desperation, and
seeing nothing else to be done, Erica agreed. She wished it had been
summer, when either of them might have learned what they wanted by
swimming. This was now out of the question; and stealthily therefore
she pulled her little craft into the deepest shadow, and crept into the
cove.
At a little distance from the entrance it widened; but it was a wonder
to Erica that even Oddo's eyes should have seen Hund moor his boat here
from the other side of the fiord; though the fiord was not more than a
gunshot over in this part. Oddo himself wondered, till he recalled how
the sun was shining down into the chasm at the time. By starlight the
outline of all that the cove contained might be seen; the outline of the
boat, among other things. There she lay! But there was something about
her which was unpleasant enough. There were three men in her.
What was to be done bow? Here was the very worst danger that Erica had
feared--worse than finding the boat gone--worse than meeting it in the
wide fiord. What was to be done?
There was nothing for it but to do nothing--to lie perfectly still in
the shadow, ready, however, to push out on the first movement of the
boat to leave the cove; for, though the canoe might remain unnoticed at
present, it was impossible that anybody could pass out of the cove
without seeing her. In such a case, there would be nothing for it but a
race--a race for which Erica and Oddo held themselves prepared, without
any mutual explanation; for they dared not speak. The faintest whisper
would have crept over the smooth water to the ears in the larger boat.
One thing was certain--that something must happen presently. It is
impossible for the hardiest men to sit inactive in a boat for any length
of time in a January night in Norway. In the calmest nights the cold is
only to be sustained by means of the glow from strong exercise. It was
certain that these three men could not have been long in their places,
and that they would not sit many moments more without some change in
their arrangements.
They did not seem to be talking; for Oddo, who was the best listener in
the world, could not discover that a sound issued from their boat. He
fancied they were drowsy; and, being aware what were the consequences of
yielding to drowsiness in severe cold, the boy began to entertain high
hopes of taking these three men prisoners. The whole country would ring
with such a feat, performed by Erica and himself.
The men were, however, too much awake to be made prisoners of at
present. One was seen to drink from a flask, and the hoarse voice of
another was heard grumbling, as far as the listeners could make out, at
being kept waiting. The third then rose to look about him, and Erica
trembled from head to foot. He only looked upon the land, however,
declared he saw nothing of those he was expecting, and began to warm
himself as he stood, by repeatedly clapping his arms across his breast,
in the way that hackney-coachmen and porters do in England. This was
Hund. He could not have been known by his figure, for all persons look
alike in wolf-skin pelisses; but the voice and the action were his.
Oddo saw how Erica shuddered. He put his finger on his lips, but Erica
needed no reminding of the necessity of quietness.
The other two men then rose; and, after a consultation, the words of
which could not be heard, all stepped ashore one after another, and
climbed a rocky pathway.
"Now, now!" whispered Erica. "Now we can get away!"
"Not without the boat," said Oddo. "You would not leave them the boat!"
"No--not if--but they will be back in a moment. They are only gone to
hasten their companions."
"I know it," said Oddo. "Now two strokes forward."
While she gave these two strokes, which brought the skiff to the stern
of the boat, Erica saw that Oddo had taken out a knife, which gleamed in
the starlight. It was for cutting the thong by which the boat was
fastened to a birch pole, the other end of which was hooked on shore.
This was to save his going ashore to unhook the pole. It was well for
him that boat-chains were not in use, owing to the scarcity of metal in
that region. The clink of a chain would certainly have been heard.
Quickly and silently he entered the boat and tied the skiff to its
stern, and he and Erica took their places where the men had sat one
minute before. They used their own muffled oars to turn the boat round,
till Oddo observed that the boat oars were muffled too. Then voices
were heard again. The men were returning. Strongly did the two
companions draw their strokes till a good breadth of water lay between
them and the shore, and then till they had again entered the deep shadow
which shrouded the mouth of the cove. There they paused.
"In with you!" some loud voice said, as man after man was seen in
outline coming down the pathway; "in with you! We have lost time enough
already."
"Where is she? I can't see the boat," answered the foremost man.
"You can't miss her," said one behind, "unless the brandy has got into
your eyes."
"So I should have said; but I do miss her. It is very incomprehensible
to me."
Oddo shook with stifled laughter as he partly saw and partly overheard
the perplexity of these men. At last one gave a deep groan, and another
declared that the spirits of the fiord were against them, and there was
no doubt that their boat was now lying twenty fathoms deep at the bottom
of the creek, drawn down by the strong hand of an angry water-spirit.
Oddo squeezed Erica's little hand as he heard this. If it had been
light enough, he would have seen that even she was smiling.
One of the men mourned their having no other boat, so that they must
give up their plan. Another said that if they had a dozen boats, he
would not set foot in one after what had happened. He should go
straight back, the way he came, to their own vessel. Another said he
would not go till he had looked abroad over the fiord for some chance of
seeing the boat. This he persisted in, though told by the rest that it
was absurd to suppose that the boat had loosed itself, and gone out into
the fiord, in the course of the two minutes that they had been absent.
He showed the fragment of the cut thong in proof of the boat not having
loosed itself, and set off for a point on the heights which he said
overlooked the fiord. One or two went with him, the rest returning up
the narrow pathway at some speed--such speed that Erica thought they
were afraid of the hindmost being caught by the same enemy that had
taken their boat. Oddo observed this too, and he quickened their pace
by setting up very loud the mournful cry with which he was accustomed to
call out the plovers on the mountain side on sporting days. No sound
can be more melancholy; and now, as it rang from the rocks, it was so
unsuitable to the place, and so terrible to the already frightened men,
that they ran on as fast as the slipperiness of the rocks would allow,
till they were all out of sight over the ridge.
"Now for it, before the other two come out above us there!" said Oddo;
and in another minute they were again in the fiord, keeping as much in
the shadow as they could, however, till they must strike over to the
islet.
"Thank God that we came!" exclaimed Erica. "We shall never forget what
we owe you, Oddo. You shall see, by the care we take of your
grandfather and Ulla, that we do not forget what you have done this
night. If Nipen will only forgive, for the sake of this--"
"We were just in the nick of time," observed Oddo. "It was better than
if we had been earlier."
"I do not know," said Erica. "Here are their brandy-bottles, and many
things besides. I had rather not have had to bring these away."
"But if we had been earlier, they would not have had their fright. That
is the best part of it. Depend upon it, some that have not said their
prayers for long will say them to-night."
"That will be good. But I do not like carrying home these things that
are not ours. If they are seen at Erlingsen's, they may bring the
pirates down upon us. I would leave them on the islet, but that the
skiff has to be left there too, and that would explain our trick."
Erica would not consent to throw the property overboard. This would be
robbing those who had not actually injured her, whatever their
intentions might have been. She thought that if the goods were left
upon some barren, uninhabited part of the shore, the pirates would
probably be the first to find them; and that, if not, the rumour of such
an extraordinary fact, spread by the simple country-people, would be
sure to reach them. So Oddo carried on shore, at the first stretch of
white beach they came to, the brandy-flasks, the bearskins, the
tobacco-pouch, the muskets and powder-horns, and the tinder-box. He
scattered these about just above high-water mark, laughing to think how
report would tell of the sprite's care in placing all these articles out
of reach of injury from the water.
Oddo did not want for light while doing this. When he returned, he
found Erica gazing up over the towering precipices, at the Northern
lights, which had now unfurled their broad yellow blaze. She was glad
that they had not appeared sooner, to spoil the adventure of the night;
but she was thankful to have the way home thus illumined, now that the
business was done. She answered with so much alacrity to Oddo's
question whether she was not very weary, that he ventured to say two
things which had before been upon his tongue, without his having courage
to utter them.
"You will not be so afraid of Nipen any more," observed he, glancing at
her face, of which he could see every feature by the quivering light.
"You see how well everything has turned out."
"O, hush! It is too soon yet to speak so. It is never right to speak
so. There is no knowing till next Christmas, nor even then, that Nipen
forgives; and the first twenty-four hours are not over yet. Pray do not
speak any more, Oddo."
"Well, not about that. But what was it exactly that you thought Hund
would do with this boat and those people? Did you think," he continued,
after a short pause, "that they would come up to Erlingsen's to rob the
place?"
"Not for the object of robbing the place, because there is very little
that is worth their taking, far less than at the fishing-grounds; not
but they might have robbed us, if they took a fancy to anything we have.
No! I thought, and I still think, that they would have carried off
Rolf, led on by Hund--"
"O, ho! carried off Rolf! So here is the secret of your wonderful
courage to-night--you who durst not look round at your own shadow last
night! This is the secret of your not being tired--you who are out of
breath with rowing a mile sometimes!"
"That is in summer," pleaded Erica; "however, you have my secret, as you
say, a thing which is no secret at home. We all think that Hund bears
such a grudge against Rolf, for having got the houseman's place--"
"And for nothing else?"
"That," continued Erica, "he would be glad to--to--"
"To get rid of Rolf, and be a houseman, and get betrothed instead of
him. Well: Hund is balked for this time. Rolf must look to himself
after to-day."
Erica sighed deeply. She did not believe that Rolf would attend to his
own safety, and the future looked very dark,--all shrouded by her fears.
By the time the skiff was deposited where it had been found, both the
rowers were so weary that they gave up the idea of taking the raft in
tow, as for full security they ought to do. They doubted whether they
could get home, if they had more weight to draw than their own boat. It
was well that they left this incumbrance behind, for there was quite
peril and difficulty enough without it, and Erica's strength and spirits
failed the more the further the enemy was left behind.
A breath of wind seemed to bring a sudden darkening of the friendly
lights which had blazed up higher and brighter, from their first
appearance till now. Both rowers looked down the fiord, and uttered an
exclamation at the same moment.
"See the fog!" cried Oddo, putting fresh strength into his oar.
"O Nipen! Nipen!" mournfully exclaimed Erica. "Here it is, Oddo,--the
west wind!"
The west wind is, in winter, the great foe of the fishermen of the
fiords: it brings in the fog from the sea, and the fogs of the Arctic
Circle are no trifling enemy. If Nipen really had the charge of the
winds, he could not more emphatically show his displeasure towards any
unhappy boatman than by overtaking him with the west wind and fog.
"The wind must have just changed," said Oddo, pulling exhausting
strokes, as the fog marched towards them over the water, like a solid
and immeasurably lofty wall. "The wind must have gone right round in a
minute."
"To be sure,--since you said what you did of Nipen," replied Erica,
bitterly.
Oddo made no answer, but he did what he could. Erica had to tell him
not to wear himself out too quickly, as there was no saying how long
they should be on the water.
How long they had been on the water, how far they had deviated from
their right course, they could not at all tell, when, at last, more by
accident than skill, they touched the shore near home, and heard
friendly voices, and saw the light of torches through the thick air.
The fog had wrapped them round so that they could not even see the
water, or each other. They had rowed mechanically, sometimes touching
the rock, sometimes grazing upon the sand, but never knowing where they
were till the ringing of a bell, which they recognised as the farm bell,
roused hope in their hearts, and strengthened them to throw off the
fatal drowsiness caused by cold and fatigue. They made towards the
bell, and then heard Peder's shouts, and next saw the dull light of two
torches which looked as if they could not burn in the fog. The old man
lent a strong hand to pull up the boat upon the beach, and to lift out
the benumbed rowers, and they were presently revived by having their
limbs chafed, and by a strong dose of the universal medicine--
corn-brandy and camphor--which in Norway, neither man nor woman, young
nor old, sick nor well, thinks of refusing upon occasion.
When Erica was in bed, warm beneath an eider-down coverlid, her mistress
bent over her and whispered, "You saw and heard Hund himself?"
"Hund himself, madame."
"What shall we do if he comes back before my husband is home from the
bear-hunt?"
"If he comes, it will be in fear and penitence, thinking that all the
powers are against him. But O, madame, let him never know how it really
was!"
"He must not know. Leave that to me, and go to sleep now, Erica. You
ought to rest well, for there is no saying what you and Oddo have saved
us from. I could not have asked such a service. My husband and I must
see how we can reward it." And her kind and grateful mistress kissed
Erica's cheek, though Erica tried to explain that she was thinking most
of some one else, when she undertook this expedition.
"Then let him thank you in his own way," replied Madame Erlingsen.
"Meantime, why should not I thank you in mine?"
Stiorna here opened her eyes for an instant. When she next did so, her
mistress was gone; and she told in the morning what an odd dream she had
had of her mistress being in her room, and kissing Erica. It was so
distinct a dream that, if the thing had not been so ridiculous, she
could almost have declared that she had seen it.