One morning, it being the first day of the year, the ferryman going down
to his boat, found that during the night it had been loosed from its
moorings and taken across the river, where it now lay fastened to the
further bank.
"Wife," said he "I can remember this same thing happening a year ago,
and the year before also. Who is this traveller who comes once a year,
like a thief in the night, and crosses without asking me to ferry him
over?"
"Perhaps it is the good folk," said his wife. "Go over and see if they
have left no coin behind them in the boat."
The old man got on to a log and poled himself across, and found, down in
the keel of the boat, the mark of a man's bare foot driven deep into the
wood; but there was no coin or other trace to show who it might be.
Time went on; the old ferryman was all bowed down with age, and his body
was racked with pains. So slow was he now in making the passage of the
stream, that all travellers who knew those parts took a road higher up
the bank, where a stronger ferryman plied.
Winter came; and hunger and want pressed hard at the old man's door. One
day while he drew his net along the stream, he felt the shock of a great
fish striking against the meshes down below, and presently, as the net
came in, he saw a shape like living silver, leaping and darting to and
fro to find some way of escape. Up to the bank he landed it, a great
gasping fish.
When he was about to kill it, he saw, to his astonishment, tears running
out of its eyes, that gazed at him and seemed to reproach him for his
cruelty. As he drew back, the Fish said: "Why should you kill me, who
wish to live?"
The old man, altogether bewildered at hearing himself thus addressed,
answered: "Since I and my wife are hungry, and God gave you to be
eaten, I have good reason for killing you."
"I could give you something worth far more than a meal," said the Fish,
"if you would spare my life."
"We are old," said the ferryman, "and want only to end our days in
peace. To-day we are hungry; what can be more good for us than a meal
which will give us strength for the morrow, which is the new year?"
The Fish said: "To-night someone will come and unfasten your boat, and
ferry himself over, and you know nothing of it till the morning, when
you see the craft moored out yonder by the further bank."
The old man remembered how the thing had happened in previous years,
directly the Fish spoke. "Ah, you know that then! How is it?" he asked.
"When you go back to your hut at night to sleep, I am here in the
water," said the Fish. "I see what goes on."
"What goes on, then?" asked the old man, very curious to know who the
strange traveller might be.
"Ah," said the Fish, "if you could only catch him in your boat, he could
give you something you might wish for! I tell you this: do you and your
wife keep watch in the boat all night, and when he comes, and you have
ferried him into mid-stream, where he cannot escape, then throw your net
over him and hold him till he pays you for all your ferryings."
"How shall he pay me? All my ferryings of a lifetime!"
"Make him take you to the land of Returning Time. There, at least, you
can end your days in peace."
The old man said: "You have told me a strange thing; and since I mean to
act on it, I suppose I must let you go. If you have deceived me, I trust
you may yet die a cruel death."
The Fish answered: "Do as I tell you, and you shall die a happy one."
And, saying this he slipped down into the water and disappeared.
The ferryman went back to his wife supperless, and said to her: "Wife,
bring a net, and come down into the boat!" And he told her the story of
the Fish and of the yearly traveller.
They sat long together under the dark bank, looking out over the quiet
and cold moonlit waters, till the midnight hour. The air was chill, and
to keep themselves warm they covered themselves over with the net and
lay down in the bottom of the boat. It was the very hour when the old
year dies and the new year is born.
Before they well knew that they had been asleep, they started to feel
the rocking of the boat, and found themselves out upon the broad waters
of the river. And there in the fore-part of the boat, clear and
sparkling in the moonlight, stood a naked man of shining silver. He was
bending upon the pole of the boat, and his long hair fell over it right
down into the water.
The old couple rose up quietly, and unwinding themselves from the net,
threw it over the Silver Man, over his head and hands and feet, and
dragged him down into the bottom of the boat.
[Illustration]
The old man caught the ferry pole, and heaved the boat still into the
middle of the stream. As he did so a gentle shock came to the heart of
each; feebly it fluttered and sank low. "Oh, wife!" sighed the old man,
and reached out his hand for hers.
The Silver Man lay still in the folds of the net, and looked at them
with a wise and quiet gaze. "What would you have of me?" he said, and
his voice was far off and low.