A blue lake is deeply set in mountains capped with eternal snow. A
dark network of gardens descends in gorgeous folds to the water. White
houses that look like lumps of sugar peer down from the bank into the
lake; and everything around is as quiet and peaceful as the sleep of a
child.
It is morning. A perfume of flowers is wafted gently from the
mountains. The sun is new risen and the dew still glistens on the
leaves of trees and the petals of flowers. A road like a grey ribbon
thrusts into the quiet mountain gorge--a stone-paved road which yet
looks as soft as velvet, so that one almost has a desire to stroke it.
Near a pile of stones sits a workman, like some dark coloured beetle;
on his breast is a medal; his face is serious, bold, but kindly.
Placing his sunburnt hands on his knees and looking up into the face of
a passer-by who has stopped in the shade of a chestnut-tree, he says:
"This is the Simplon, signor, and this is a medal for working in the
Simplon tunnel,"
And lowering his eyes to his breast he smiles fondly at the bright
piece of metal.
"Oh, every kind of work is hard for a time, until you get used to it,
and then it grows upon you and becomes easy. Ay, but it was hard work
though!"
He shook his head a little, smiling at the sun; then suddenly he
checked and waved his hand; his black eyes glistened.
"I was afraid at times. The earth must have some feeling, don't you
think? When we had burrowed to a great depth, when we had made this
wound in the mountain, she received us rudely enough. She breathed a
hot breath on us that made the heart stop beating, made the head dizzy
and the bones to ache. Many experienced this. Then the mother earth
showered stones upon her children, poured hot water over us; ay, there
was fear in it, signor! Sometimes, in the torchlight, the water became
red and my father told me that we had wounded the earth and that she
would drown us, would burn us all up with her blood--'you will live to
see it!' It was all fancy, like enough, but when one hears such words
deep in the bowels of the earth--in the damp and suffocating darkness,
amid the plaintive splashing of water and the grinding of iron against
stone--one forgets for the moment how much is fantasy. For everything
was fantastic there, dear signor: we men were so puny, while the
mountain, into whose belly we were boring, reached up to the sky. One
must see in order to understand it. It is necessary to see the black
gaping mouth cut by us, tiny people, who entered it at sunset--and how
sadly the sun looks after those who desert him and go into the bowels
of the earth! It is necessary to see our machines and the grim face of
the mountain, and to hear the dark rumblings in it and the blasts, like
the wild laughter of a madman."
He looked at his hands, set right the medal on his blue blouse and
sighed.
"Man knows how to work!" he continued, with manifest pride. "Oh,
signor, a puny man, when he wills to work, is an invincible force!
And, believe me: in the end, the little man will do everything he wants
to do. My father did not believe it at first.
"'To cut through a mountain from country to country,' he said, 'is
contrary to the will of God, who separated countries by mountain walls;
you will see that the Madonna will not be with us!' He was wrong,
the old man; the Madonna is on the side of everyone who loves her.
Afterwards my father began to think as I now think and avow to you,
because he felt that he was greater and stronger than the mountain; but
there was a time when, on holidays, sitting at a table before a bottle
of wine, he would declare to me and others:
"'Children of God'--that was his favourite saying, for he was a kind
and good man--'children of God, you must not struggle with the earth
like that; she will be revenged on you for her wounds, and will remain
unconquerable! You will see: when we bore into the mountain as far as
the heart, when we touch the heart, it will burn us up, it will hurl
fire upon us, because the earth's heart is fiery--everybody knows
that! To cultivate the soil means to help it to give birth--we are
bidden to do that; but now we are spoiling its physiognomy, its form.
Behold! The farther we dig into the mountain the hotter the air becomes
and the harder it is to breathe.'"
The man laughed quietly and curled the ends of his moustache with both
hands.
"Not he alone thought like that, and he was right; the farther we went
in the tunnel, the hotter it became, and men fell prostrate and were
overcome. Water gushed forth faster from the hot springs, whole seams
fell down, and two of our fellows from Lugano went mad. At night in the
barracks many of us talked in delirium, groaned and jumped up from our
beds in terror.
"'Am I not right?' said my father, with fear in his eyes and coughing
more and more, and more and more huskily--he did, signor. 'Am I not
right?' he said. 'She is unconquerable, the earth.'
"At last the old man lay down for the last time. He was very strong, my
old one; for more than three weeks he struggled bravely with death, as
a man who knows his worth, and never complained.
"'My work is finished, Paolo,' he said to me once in the night. 'Take
care of yourself and return home; let the Madonna guide you!'
"Then he was silent for a long time; he covered up his face, and was
nigh to choking."
The man stood up, looked at the mountains and stretched himself with
such force that his sinews cracked.
"He took me by the hand, drew me to himself and said--it's the solemn
truth, signor--
"'Do you know, Paolo, my son, in spite of all, I think it will be done:
we and those who advance from the other side will meet in the mountain,
we shall meet--do you believe that?'
"I did believe it, signor.
"'Well, my son, so you must: everything must be done with a firm belief
in a happy ending and in God who helps good people by the prayers of
the Madonna. I beg you, my son, if it does happen, if the men meet,
come to my grave and say: "Father, it is done," so that I may know!'
"It was all right, dear signor, I promised him. He died five days after
my words were spoken, and two days before his death he asked me to bury
him at the spot where he had last worked in the tunnel. He prayed, but
I think it was in delirium.
"We and the others who came from the opposite side met in the mountain
thirteen weeks after my father's death--it was a mad day, signor!
Oh, when we heard there, under the earth, in the darkness, the noise
of other workmen, the noise of those who came to meet us under the
earth--you understand, signor, under the tremendous weight of the earth
which might have crushed us, puny little things, all at once had it but
known how!
"For many days we heard these rumbling sounds, every day they became
louder and louder, clearer and clearer, and we became possessed by
the joyful madness of conquerors--we worked like demons, like persons
without bodies, not feeling fatigue, not requiring direction--it
was as good as a dance on a sunny day, upon my word of honour! We all
became as good and kind to one another as children are. Oh, if you only
knew how strong, how intensely passionate is one's desire to meet a
human being in the dark, under the earth into which one has burrowed
like a mole for many long months!"
His face flushed, he walked up close to the listener and, looking into
the latter's face with deep kindling eyes, went on quietly and joyously:
"And when the last wall finally crumbled away, and in the opening
appeared the red light of a torch and somebody's dark face covered
with tears of joy, and then another face, and more torches and more
faces--shouts of victory resounded, shouts of joy.... Oh, it was the
best day of my life, and when I think of it I feel that I have not
lived in vain! There was work, my work, holy work, signor, I tell you,
yes!.... Yes, we kissed the conquered mountain, kissed the earth--that
day the earth was specially near and dear to me, signor, and I fell in
love with it as if it had been a woman!
"Of course I went to my father! Of course--although I don't know that
the dead can hear--but I went: we must respect the wishes of those who
toiled for us and who suffered no less than we do--must we not, signor?
"Yes, yes, I went to his grave, knocked with my foot against the ground
and said, as he wished:
"'Father--it is done!' I said. 'The people have conquered. It is done,
father!'"