One bad year never comes alone. Isak had grown patient, and took what
fell to his lot. The corn was parched, and the hay was poor, but the
potatoes looked like pulling through once more--bad enough, all things
together, but not the worst. Isak had still a season's yield of
cordwood and timber to sell in the village, and the herring fishery
had been rich all round the coast, so there was plenty of money to buy
wood. Indeed, it almost looked like a providence that the corn harvest
had failed--for how could he have threshed it without a barn and
threshing-floor? Call it providence; there's no harm in that
sometimes.
There were other things not so easily put out of mind. What was it a
certain Lapp had said to Inger that summer--something about not having
bought? Buy, what should he buy for? The ground was there, the forest
was there; he had cleared and tilled, built up a homestead in the
midst of a natural wilderness, winning bread for himself and his,
asking nothing of any man, but working, and working alone. He had
often thought himself of asking the Lensmand [Footnote: Sheriff's
officer, in charge of a small district.] about the matter when he went
down to the village, but had always put it off; the Lensmand was not
a pleasant man to deal with, so people said, and Isak was not one to
talk much. What could he say if he went--what had he come for?
One day that winter the Lensmand himself came driving up to the place.
There was a man with him, and a lot of papers in a bag. Geissler
himself, the Lensmand, no less. He looked at the broad open hillside,
cleared of timber, smooth and unbroken under the snow; he thought
perhaps that it was all tilled land already, for he said:
"Why, this is a whole big farm you've got. You don't expect to get all
this for nothing?"
There it was! Isak was terror-stricken and said not a word.
"You ought to have come to me at first, and bought the land," said
Geissler.
"Ay."
The Lensmand talked of valuations, of boundaries, taxes, taxes to the
State, and, when he had explained the matter a little, Isak began to
see that there was something reasonable in it after all. The Lensmand
turned to his companion teasingly. "Now then, you call yourself a
surveyor, what's the extent of cultivated ground here?" He did not
wait for the other to reply, but noted down himself, at a guess. Then
he asked Isak about the crops, how much hay, how many bushels of
potatoes. And then about boundaries. They could not go round the place
marking out waist-deep in snow; and in summer no one could get up
there at all. What did Isak think himself about the extent of woodland
and pasturage?--Isak had no idea at all; he had always thought of the
place as being his own as far as he could see. The Lensmand said that
the State required definite boundaries. "And the greater the extent,
the more you will have to pay."
"Ay."
"And they won't give you all you think you can swallow; they'll let
you have what's reasonable for your needs."
"Ay."
Inger brought in some milk for the visitors; they drank it, and she
brought in some more. The Lensmand a surly fellow? He stroked Eleseus'
hair, and looked at something the child was playing with. "Playing
with stones, what? Let me see. H'm, heavy. Looks like some kind of
ore."
"There's plenty such up in the hills," said Isak.
The Lensmand came back to business. "South and west from here's what
you want most, I suppose? Shall we say a couple of furlongs to the
southward?"
"Two furlongs!" exclaimed his assistant.
"_You_ couldn't till two hundred yards," said his chief shortly.
"What will that cost?" asked Isak.
"Can't say. It all depends. But I'll put it as low as I can on my
report; it's miles away from anywhere, and difficult to get at."
"But two furlongs!" said the assistant again.
The Lensmand entered duly, two furlongs to the southward, and asked:
"What about the hills? How much do you want that way?"
"I'll need all up as far as the water. There's a big water up there,"
said Isak.
The Lensmand noted that. "And how far north?"
"Why, it's no great matter that way. 'Tis but moorland most, and
little timber."
The Lensmand fixed the northward boundary at one furlong. "East?"
"That's no great matter either. 'Tis bare field all from here into
Sweden."
The Lensmand noted down again. He made a rapid calculation, and said:
"It'll make a good-sized place, even at that. Anywhere near the
village, of course, it'd be worth a lot of money; nobody could have
bought it. I'll send in a report, and say a hundred _Daler_ would be
fair. What do you think?" he asked his assistant.
"It's giving it away," said the other.
"A hundred _Daler_?" said Inger. "Isak, you've no call to take so big
a place."
"No--o," said Isak.
The assistant put in hurriedly: "That's just what I say. It's miles
too big for you as it is. What will you do with it?"
"Cultivate it," said the Lensmand.
He had been sitting there writing and working in his head, with the
children crying every now and then; he did not want to have the whole
thing to do again. As it was, he would not be home till late that
night, perhaps not before morning. He thrust the papers into the bag;
the matter was settled.
"Put the horse in," he said to his companion. And turning to Isak: "As
a matter of fact, they ought to give you the place for nothing, and
pay you into the bargain, the way you've worked. I'll say as much when
I send in the report. Then we'll see how much the State will ask for
the title-deeds."
Isak--it was hard to say how he felt about it. Half as if he were not
ill-pleased after all to find his land valued at a big price, after
the work he had done. As for the hundred _Daler_, he could manage to
pay that off, no doubt, in course of time. He made no further business
about it; he could go on working as he had done hitherto, clearing and
cultivating, fetching loads of timber from the untended woodlands.
Isak was not a man to look about anxiously for what might come; he
worked.
Inger thanked the Lensmand, and hoped he would put in a word for them
with the State.
"Yes, yes. But I've no say in the matter myself. All I have to do is
to say what I have seen, and what I think. How old is the youngest
there?"
"Six months as near as can be."
"Boy or girl?"
"Boy."
The Lensmand was no tyrant, but shallow, and not overconscientious. He
ignored his assistant, Brede Olsen, who by virtue of his office should
be an expert in such affairs; the matter was settled out of hand,
by guesswork. Yet for Isak and his wife it was a serious matter
enough--ay, and for who should come after them, maybe for generations.
But he set it all down, as it pleased him, making a document of it on
the spot. Withal a kindly man; he took a bright coin from his pocket
and gave it to little Sivert; then he nodded to the others and went
out to the sledge.
Suddenly he asked: "What do you call the place?"
"Call it?"
"Yes. What's its name? We must have a name for it"
No one had ever thought of that before. Inger and Isak looked at each
other.
"Sellanraa?" said the Lensmand. He must have invented it out of his
own head; maybe it was not a name at all. But he only nodded, and said
again, "Sellanraa!" and drove off.
Settled again, at a guess, anything would do. The name, the price, the
boundaries....
Some weeks later, when Isak was down in the village, he heard rumours
of some business about Lensmand Geissler; there had been an inquiry
about some moneys he could not account for, and the matter had been
reported to his superior. Well, such things did happen; some folk were
content to stumble through life anyhow, till they ran up against those
that walked.
Then one day Isak went down with a load of wood, and coming back, who
should drive with him on his sledge but Lensmand Geissler. He stepped
out from the trees, on to the road, waved his hand, and simply said:
"Take me along, will you?"
They drove for a while, neither speaking. Once the passenger took a
flask from his pocket and drank; offered it to Isak, who declined.
"I'm afraid this journey will upset my stomach," said the Lensmand.
He began at once to talk about Isak's deal in land. "I sent off the
report at once, with a strong recommendation on my own account.
Sellanraa's a nice name. As a matter of fact, they ought to let you
have the place for nothing, wouldn't do to say so, of course. If I
had, they'd only have taken offence and put their own price on it. I
suggested fifty _Daler_."
"Ho. Fifty, you said? Not a hundred?"
The Lensmand puckered his brow and thought a moment. "As far as I
recollect it was fifty. Yes...."
"And where will you be going, now?" asked Isak.
"Over to Vesterbotten, to my wife's people."
"'Tis none so easy that way at this time of year."
"I'll manage. Couldn't you go with me a bit?"
"Ay; you shan't go alone."
They came to the farm, and the Lensmand stayed the night, sleeping in
the little room. In the morning, he brought out his flask again, and
remarked: "I'm sure this journey's going to upset my stomach." For the
rest, he was much the same as last time, kindly, decisive, but fussy,
and little concerned about his own affairs. Possibly it might not be
so bad after all. Isak ventured to point out that the hillside was not
all under cultivation yet, but only some small squares here and there.
The Lensmand took the information in a curious fashion. "I knew that
well enough, of course, last time I was here, when I made out the
report. But Brede, the fellow who was with me, he didn't see it.
Brede, he's no earthly good. But they work it out by table. With all
the ground as I entered it, and only so few loads of hay, so few
bushels of potatoes, they'll say at once that it must be poor soil,
cheap soil, you understand. I did my best for you, and you take my
word for it, that'll do the trick. It's two and thirty thousand
fellows of your stamp the country wants."
The Lensmand nodded and turned to Inger. "How old's the youngest?"
"He's just three-quarters of a year."
"And a boy, is he?"
"Yes."
"But you must see and get that business settled as soon as ever you
can," said he to Isak again. "There's another man wants to purchase
now, midway between here and the village, and as soon as he does,
this'll be worth more. You buy now, get the place first, and let the
price go up after--that way, you'll be getting some return for all the
work you've put into it. It was you that started cultivating here at
all. 'Twas all wilderness before."
They were grateful for his advice, and asked if it was not he himself
that would arrange the matter. He answered that he had done all he
could; everything now depended on the State. "I'm going across
to Vesterbotten now, and I shan't be coming back," he told them
straightforwardly.
He gave Inger an _Ort_, and that was overmuch. "You can take a bit of
meat down to my people in the village next time you're killing," said
he. "My wife'll pay you. Take a cheese or so, too, any time you can.
The children like it."
Isak went with him up over the hills; it was firm, good going on the
higher ground, easier than below. Isak received a whole _Daler_.
In that manner was it Lensmand Geissler left the place, and he did not
come back. No great loss, folk said, he being looked on as a doubtful
personage, an adventurer. Not that he hadn't the knowledge; he was a
learned man, and had studied this and that, but he lived too freely,
and spent other people's money. It came out later that he had left the
place after a sharp reprimand from his superior, Amtmand Pleym; but
nothing was done about his family officially, and they went on living
there, a good while after--his wife and three children. And it was not
long before the money unaccounted for was sent from Sweden, so that
Geissler's wife and children could not be said to be held as hostages,
but stayed on simply because it pleased them.
Isak and Inger had no cause to complain of Geissler's dealings with
them, not by a long way. And there was no saying what sort of man
his successor would be--perhaps they would have to go over the whole
business again!
The Amtmand [Footnote: Governor of a country] sent one of his clerks
up to the village, to be the new Lensmand. He was a man about forty,
son of a local magistrate, by name Heyerdahl. He had lacked the means
to go to the university and enter the service that way; instead, he
had been constrained to sit in an office, writing at a desk, for
fifteen years. He was unmarried, having never been able to afford
a wife. His chief, Amtmand Pleym, had inherited him from his
predecessor, and paid him the same miserable wage that had been given
before; Heyerdahl took it, and went on writing at his desk as before.
Isak plucked up his courage, and went to see him.
"Documents in the Sellanraa case ...? Here they are, just returned
from the Department. They want to know all sorts of things--the whole
business is in a dreadful muddle, as Geissler left it," said the
official. "The Department wishes to be informed as to whether any
considerable crop of marketable berries is to be reckoned with on the
estate. Whether there is any heavy timber. Whether possibly there may
be ores or metals of value an the hills adjoining. Mention is made of
water, but nothing stated as to any fishery in the same. This Geissler
appears to have furnished certain information, but he's not to be
trusted, and here have I to go through the whole affair again after
him. I shall have to come up to Sellanraa and make a thorough
inspection and valuation. How many miles is it up there? The
Department, of course, requires that adequate boundaries be drawn:
yes, we shall have to beat the bounds in due order."
"'Tis no light business setting up boundaries this time of year," said
Isak. "Not till later on in the summer."
"Anyhow, it'll have to be done. The Department can't wait all through
the summer for an answer. I'll come up myself as soon as I can get
away. I shall have to be out that way in any case, there's another
plot of land a man's inquiring about."
"Will that be him that's going to buy up between me and the village?"
"Can't say, I'm sure. Very likely. As a matter of fact, it's a man
from the office here, my assistant in the office. He was here in
Geissler's time. Asked Geissler about it, I understand, but Geissler
put him off; said he couldn't cultivate a hundred yards of land. So he
sent in an application to the Amtmand, and I'm instructed to see the
matter through. More of Geissler's muddling!"
Lensmand Heyerdahl came up to the farm, and brought with him his
assistant, Brede. They had got thoroughly wet crossing the moors, and
wetter still they were before they'd finished tramping the boundary
lines through melting snow and slush up and down the hills. The
Lensmand set to work zealously the first day, but on the second he had
had enough, and contented himself with standing still for the most
part, pointing and shouting directions. There was no further talk
about prospecting for ore in the "adjoining hills," and as for
marketable berries--they would have a look at the moors on the way
back, he said.
The Department requested information on quite a number of
points--there were tables for all sorts of things, no doubt. The only
thing that seemed reasonable was the question of timber. Certainly,
there was some heavy timber, and that within the limits of Isak's
proposed holding, but not enough to reckon with for sale; no more than
would be required to keep up the place. Even if there had been timber
in plenty, who was to carry it all the many miles to where it could
be sold? Only Isak, trundling like a tub-wheel through the forest in
winter-time carting some few heavy sticks down to the village, to
bring back planks and boards for his building.
Geissler, the incomprehensible, had, it seemed, sent in a report which
was not easily upset. Here was his successor going through the whole
thing again, trying to find mistakes and blatant inaccuracies--but all
in vain. It was noticeable that he consulted his assistant at every
turn, and paid heed to what he said, which was not Geissler's way at
all. That same assistant, moreover, must presumably have altered his
own opinion, since he was now a would-be purchaser himself of lands
from the common ground held by the State.
"What about the price?" asked the Lensmand.
"Fifty _Daler_ is the most they can fairly ask of any buyer," answered
the expert.
Lensmand Heyerdahl drew up his report in elegant phrasing. Geissler
had written: "The man will also have to pay land tax every year; he
cannot afford to pay more for the place than fifty _Daler_, in annual
instalments over ten years. The State can accept his offer, or take
away his land and the fruits of his work." Heyerdahl wrote: "He now
humbly begs to submit this application to the Department: that he
be allowed to retain this land, upon which, albeit without right
of possession, he has up to this present effected considerable
improvements, for a purchase price of 50--fifty--_Speciedaler_,
the amount to be paid in annual instalments as may seem fit to the
Department to apportion the same."
Lensmand Heyerdahl promised Isak to do his best. "I hope to succeed in
procuring you possession of the estate," he said.