You get used to everything; you even get used to the passage of two years.
And now it is spring again....
It is market day in the frontier town; my room is noisy, for there is
music down in the fields, the roundabout is whirling, the tightrope walker
is gossiping outside his tent, and people of every sort throng the
village. The crowds are great, and there is even a sprinkling of
Norwegians from across the border. Horses snort and whinny, cows low, and
trading is brisk.
In the display window of the goldsmith across the road, a great cow of
silver has made its appearance, a handsome breeder that the local farmers
stop to admire.
"She's too smart for my crags," says one of them with a laugh.
"What do you think's her price?" says another with a laugh.
"Why, do you want to buy her?"
"No, haven't got fodder enough this year."
A man trudges placidly down the road and also stops in front of this
window. I see him from behind, and take note of his massive back. He
stands there a long time, trying to make up his mind, no doubt, for now
and then he scratches his beard. There he goes, sure enough, entering the
shop with a ponderous tread. I wonder if he intends to buy the silver cow!
It takes him an age, and still he hasn't come out. What on earth is he
doing in there? Now that I have begun to watch him, I might as well go the
whole hog. So I put on my hat and cross to the goldsmith's window myself,
mingling with the other spectators, and watching the door.
At last the man re-emerges--yes, it _is_ Nikolai. It was his back and
hands, but he has got a beard now, too. He looks splendid. Imagine
Carpenter Nikolai being here!
We greet each other, and we talk as he shakes me slowly and ponderously by
the hand. Our conversation is halting, but we get on. Yes, of course, he
has gone into the shop on business, in a kind of way.
"You've not bought the silver cow, have you?"
"Oh, no, not that. It didn't amount to anything, really. In fact, I didn't
buy anything."
By degrees, I discover that he is buying a horse. And he tells me that he
has dug that piece of land of his, and is turning it into pasture, and his
wife--oh, yes, thank you for asking--she lives in health to this day.
"By the way," he said, "have you come here over the fjeld?"
"Yes, I came last winter. In December."
"What a pity I didn't know!"
I explained that I hadn't had the time to visit his home then; I was in a
hurry, there was some business--
"Yes, I understand," he said.
We said little more, for Nikolai was as taciturn as ever. Besides, he had
other business to attend to; he cannot absent himself from the farm for
long, and had to return next day.
"Have you bought your horse yet?"
"Well, no, I haven't."
"Do you think you will?"
"I don't know yet. I'm trying to split a difference of five and twenty
_kroner_."
Later I saw Nikolai going to the goldsmith's again. He seemed to do a
great deal of business there.
"I could have company across the fjeld now," I thought. "It's spring, and
do I not always travel in the spring?"