[Illustration]
Wings of happiness lifted Turgen’s spirit in the days immediately
following his understanding with Marfa, until it seemed that the
world was a new and more beautiful place. He looked at the sky, the
mountains and the forest around him with eyes that appeared to see them
for the first time. Even his yurta, so dark and cramped, was larger
and brighter, though its solitary window was still covered with snow.
In the silence surrounding him he caught sounds of life filled with
excitement and promise.
“Is not all this a dream?” he asked himself. Then his common sense
answered: “No, it is not a dream, or there would be fear in my heart
that it would vanish. And my heart does not fear.”
He was very gay as he climbed the mountain to the clearing with food
for his rams. The herd kept out of sight, but he felt their presence
close by in the shelter of the cliffs.
“Hey there, my friends,” he shouted, “don’t hide yourselves!” And then,
because he had to confide his news to someone: “Life has now turned
her face to us and everything is going to be well. We are no longer
orphans. I will have a family, and it will be your family, too. Already
Tim and Aksa love you. And they have made me a promise. As for their
mother! Oh, that is a woman with a heart. The Great Spirit has blessed
us indeed.”
Turgen delivered his message with full confidence that the rams heard
and understood all that he said, and rejoiced in his good fortune. He
knew the proverb, “Every man forges his own happiness,” but his case
seemed to be an exception. For what had he done, he asked himself, that
he should be so blessed? Was it all, perhaps, a sign from the stranger
who came to him in his dream?
For three days his thoughts were rose-colored. But no mood will last
forever. Gradually doubts crept back into his mind and by feeding on
solitude grew into monsters.
“What kind of an old fool am I to be thinking of marriage at my age?”
they went. “How do I dare take on the responsibility of a family? Not
that I am unable to provide for them. But why should innocent people
have to share with me the ill-will of the Yakuts in the valley?”
Marfa was a fine brave woman. She and the children scoffed at the idea
that he was a sorcerer. But they didn’t know what it meant to have
their neighbors against them.
What was he to do? How could he explain all this to Marfa and make her
understand that his fears were for her and not himself?
That was the whole problem--to convince Marfa. It would require wisdom.
And where was he to find wisdom of the kind needed? Oh, what a muddle
it was, and all because of his pity for the mountain rams. How was it
possible that so much evil could come from good?
While his mind worried itself in this fashion Turgen went about his
daily chores hoping that the Great Spirit would grant him still another
sign, and save him before the final moment of decision. There was much
work to be done. There were the fishing nets in the lake to watch.
There was game to be hunted, and snares to be examined from time to
time. Also he had promised to sew new moccasin boots for Tim and Aksa.
Then on the following Sunday he would return to Marfa’s, when she
expected to decide upon the day for the wedding.
What this wedding would be like Turgen did not know. He remembered very
well his first marriage, which had taken place early in the autumn.
Several couples gathered outside the chapel and were united by one
ceremony. There was a small table holding a cross and a bowl of water.
A person called a monk read a prayer, sprinkled holy water over them,
and invited them to kiss the cross. Then a man wearing glasses wrote
down their names--and that was all. This had been long ago--so long
ago. How would it be now if Marfa was not persuaded by his reasoning?
It was good to be busy, for then he could not think too much.