EYLLEN'S WATER WITCH
Two women sat weaving baskets. They were not Aleut Indians, and barely
escaped being Russians; but were of mixed blood so common on the
Aleutian Islands.
The younger one broke the silence.
"I'm tired of baskets! I want to do something else," she said, with a
yawn.
"Run out upon the hills awhile, but first finish the row you are doing,
then put all away in a safe place. No Russian leaves her work scattered
to get lost or soiled," said the older woman.
"Am I a Russian lady?" queried the girl, apparently about the age of
eighteen.
"You may be if your father comes to take you to Russia with him. But by
this time he is likely dead;--there is no telling. It is three years
since we saw him, and he promised to come again in two." And the woman
sighed.
"Oh, he may come at any time, and I am going to the top of the hill to
look for him now," said the girl with youth's hopefulness, as she
hastened to obey her aunt.
"Don't set your mind on it, for sailor men are very uncertain; only they
are pretty sure to roll around the whole world, making excuses that
ships take them whether they will or not. A poor excuse for not coming
is better than none." Then as the door closed behind the girl she added,
"I wish he would send money to buy her clothes; it would be as little as
he could do, for she is not my child, but my sister's. I, too, wish he
would come, for a cold winter we have had taking much coal and many
furs, and my money is nearly gone. To be sure when the steamers come
with their hundreds of people bound for the gold fields we shall sell
some of our baskets, but it will be weeks before they arrive," and she
pulled industriously at the long strands of dried grass she was weaving
into her basket.
While her aunt meditated on these and various other matters the girl,
Eyllen, glad to get away from the cabin and basket-making, crossed the
foot bridge over the small stream which ran behind the house and began
to ascend the high bluff which she claimed as her watch tower. If she
could only discern her father's ship in the distance, how surprised her
aunt would be!
On the islands the winter was over. The month of May had come with its
many attendant delights. Snow had gone from the ground in the little
settlements and lay only upon the high hills and great mountain tops
surrounding. Down gulches and canyons flowed swift, icy streams of what
had until lately been great snow masses, but which on melting had left
bare the sides of the tundra-covered hills where the brightest of wild
flowers were beginning to spring into beauty.
The girl was not blind to their loveliness. Upon leaving the cabin she
had determined to bring back all she could carry of the blossoms, but
not until she had well scanned the horizon for ships. Her father might
even now be approaching the islands, and perhaps he could see her
through his glass. With this thought in mind she pulled her handkerchief
from her pocket and waved it enthusiastically, although as yet no ship
had she seen. Seeing some little children far below in the village
playing near the priest's school she laughed aloud.
[Illustration: _She scanned the horizon_]
"They will surely say I am bewitched if they see me, and what a joke
that would be! I am certain to be badly quizzed by the youngsters when I
get home, for there is no such luck as to escape their sharp eyes while
standing upon this hill-top. It will be a wonder if some of them do not
follow me. If they do, they will not find me," and she laughed again as
she hastened on over the brow of the bluff.
Eyllen was lithe of limb and supple. To mountain climbing she had been
accustomed since a baby, and was well and hardy. She now stood for a
moment to take a fresh survey of the bay. A slight breeze was blowing,
and had tinted her smooth round cheeks with crimson. Her eyes sparkled,
and her whole face betokened earnest and animated thought. Down her back
hung two thick braids of dark hair, but the ends had become free, and,
left unconfined, floated picturesquely about her shoulders.
An Aleut Indian she surely was not. She had not their short, dumpy
stature, but was slender and graceful, and would not have seemed out of
place in civilization.
Having satisfied herself that no vessel could put into the harbor for
some hours, if at all that day, she strolled farther on. Down one hill
and up another, picking a flower here and one there, humming as she went
some old Russian song, her time passed in evident enjoyment though with
more or less abstraction.
"I will visit that spot again, and find out what there is so strange and
uncanny about it," she murmured. "I am not afraid, for nothing can harm
me. It is said that a woman has much curiosity, and I am a woman, so
that will allow me to inquire into the mystery, for mystery it surely
is. Why should I be so strangely affected when visiting that spot? Why
these sudden head pains, and dizziness as though I were about to fall to
the ground? Can it be that some witch or evil spirit dwells there and is
displeased with my coming? Does it belong to them any more than to me?
Have I not the right to come and sit beside the little stream as often
as I choose? I will inquire into the matter this very day, and solve the
puzzle, for I will never rest until I do."
So saying, she hurried her steps and was finally standing at the head of
a small stream, where, from between rocks, the water came bubbling to
the surface and trickled away to lower ground. She was thirsty from her
long walk and climbing in the sunshine, and stooped to fill a drinking
cup she had brought with her for the purpose.
Suddenly she was seized with dizziness, then an electric thrill or
trembling passed through her whole body, and a wave of faintness swept
over her. She felt ill.
Her face grew very pale.
Was it the work of one of the witches she had heard so many times about?
At that she ran away a little distance and sat down upon a grassy knoll.
She had not yet quenched her thirst, and longed for the water. There was
no other spring near at hand, and she was determined to have a cupful
from that one. The witch, she thought, (if a witch's work it was) had
not done worse with her than cause the sudden illness and disagreeable
sensations, and she would repeat her visit to the spring and secure a
cupful of the water; which, though possibly bewitched, still looked as
pure and sparkling as that of her own bright mountain stream near home.
When she had fully recovered, she again advanced toward the spring. Not
until she stood above its waters and peered into their shallow depths
did the old and oddly unpleasant experience repeat itself. Exactly as
before it happened now; but the girl, always a determined and resolute
creature, secured the water as she had intended, and retreated to her
hillock where she again seated herself before tasting the liquid.
A second time the trembling left her, not so quickly as before, perhaps,
yet still in a very few moments she was again herself.
Gingerly she sipped the water. It tasted clean, sweet, and deliciously
cool. Again she cautiously sipped. Still no evil effects from the
draught. Thus encouraged, she drained the cup, laughing aloud as she did
so.
"Ha, ha! old water witch of the mountains! I am neither afraid of you
nor your twin brother, the wind wizard. I am light, love and happiness,
and you cannot harm me."
Saying this she began braiding her long hair with which the breezes had
played so mischievously during her rambles, and growing more serious she
reflected on the phenomenon.
"It is in the rocks or ground underneath the spring, and not in the
water. Surely I have proved that. Before today have I visited this
place, and it is always the same. I will tell no one, else the priest
may say I am bewitched, and make me do severe penance. Only once more
will I approach the spring today and then I must surely go home or I
will lose my supper."
She was the lodestone, being irresistably drawn to the magnet, which was
apparently the rocks at the fountain.
As before she approached, but with less trepidation. She began to lose
all fear. Some inner monitor urged fearlessness, and she felt full of
courage.
As she stooped low above the spring, surrounded on all sides as it was
by ledges of rocks and boulders, she determined to hold herself,
notwithstanding the decidedly disagreeable sensations it gave her,
firmly in position long enough to get a view of the bottom of the
spring. It was not a deep pool, forming a mirror for all above it, but
rather a bed of loose rocks, evidently from crumbled ledges. These
latter, crossed the place from east to west, but to the careless glance
of Eyllen, seemed simply a confused jumble of rocks and nothing more.
Several of these pieces were light and clear. They looked attractive in
contrast to darker ones, and being washed clean by the water, and made
brighter by the sunshine, tempted the young girl to reach for them,
which she did.
"See! What was that?"
The rock was filled with shining yellow specks which shone dazzlingly in
the sunbeams.
The girl gazed in astonishment upon them.
"Holy Mother Mary!" she ejaculated. "How beautiful! I believe its gold!"
With that she made a dash for other bits of the same rock, and though
her head ached fearfully, and it seemed to her that she stood upon an
electric battery, which was anything but pleasant, she secured as much
as she could carry, and fled as before from the spot.
[Illustration: "Holy Mother Mary!" she ejaculated. "How beautiful! I
believe its gold!"]
Upon examination it proved to be the same as the first piece discovered.
Crossing herself devoutly she murmured a prayer. That over she kissed
the fragments of quartz in her hand, talking lovingly to them in the
meantime.
"Why did you hide away from me so long? Why cause me to think of
witches, but force me to come to you once and again, and giving me the
illness? That's a funny way, you little rascals! And I will now repay
you by hiding you yet longer from sight of any who might come here. I
will cover you carefully until I come again, or until my father comes
from across the ocean. Then I will give you to him, and he shall find
the rest of your brothers and sisters." She pulled energetically at the
moss and grass at her side in order to make a hiding spot for her newly
discovered friends, as she chose to consider them.
Before putting the last piece beside the others she again kissed it
tenderly, patted it, and giving a little gurgling laugh, said:
"You pretty darlings! Sleep quietly until I come again, and let nobody
find you. See? I will tuck you up, head and heels, with this cover,"
and she replaced the mosses and grass she had just pulled.
"By and by you can make me very happy if you will, when I can be a rich
lady. I have heard old miners talk lovingly of you many times, but they
shall not find you. You are mine! Remember, you are mine!"
With that she gave a last look at the spot where her secret was hidden,
and bounded away down the hillside.
Presently in the valley below she struck an old trail,--one made long
ago by the cattle belonging to the settlement, and the occasional tread,
perhaps, of a few reindeer and goats owned by the mission priest.
Hurrying along toward home she had almost forgotten the flowers she had
intended to gather but now had little time to leave the trail and pluck
them. For the sake of appearance, however, she pulled those happening to
grow alongside her path, not wishing to reach home empty handed.
As it was, her aunt's sharp eyes took notice.
"To be gone so long upon the hills, and yet bring so few blossoms? You
must be slow in bending your back or heedless of the beauty around you.
Where are the buttercups and beautiful blue iris from the field below
the hill? Was the upper bridge gone that you could not cross the stream
at that place either going or coming?" asked the woman, a little
sarcastically.
"No, no, Aunt, but it is early for iris, and the buttercups are not half
so lovely as these bluets and violets. See the darling little blue eyes
peeping at us! Tomorrow I will look for the iris. But let me eat my
supper now, for I am very hungry," laughed Eyllen, after she had placed
her spring beauties in water.
"When we played by the schoolyard," remarked her youngster cousin dryly,
from between huge mouthfuls of fish and potato, "she was standing on the
high hilltop and looking out to sea. I am certain I saw her wave
something to the sailors, only there were no sailors there," and the
urchin glanced roguishly across the table at Eyllen.
"Ha, you rogue! It was likely the corner of my apron you saw, if indeed
your sight was clear enough to see me at all so far away. I wonder
Father Peter allows you to let go your fancy in such manner."
"Father Peter wishes us to learn by seeing, he tells us. Besides I
wondered how you thought to pluck flowers on that barren hilltop where
the snow is hardly yet melted. Warm and sunny hillsides are the spots
where spring flowers grow."
"There, there," said the boy's mother, "you talk far too much. Eat your
supper and let your elders alone."
The boy shrugged his shoulders and gulped down his tea, having finished
his tea before the others owing to his haste in beginning.
The older woman then gravely inquired if any ships had that day been
seen.
None could be reported; and the youngster was soon in a state of great
sleepiness in bed, while the two women washed the supper dishes and made
the small cabin once more tidy.
That night Eyllen slept little. On her cot in the corner she pondered
long and earnestly. Just what was the nature of the strange phenomenon
with which she was so lately identified she had no idea. She only knew
that the mystical rocks lying embedded in that spring were full of life
which thrilled her tremendously as she made a near approach to them.
As a magnet they had attracted her until finally she perceived what to
her constituted discovery.
[Illustration: _Father Peter_]
How very strange it was! Could it be possible that here were ledges
containing much gold which no one had ever discovered, and which might
all be her own if she could succeed in keeping her secret until her
father should arrive? Of his coming she had not the least doubt, as had
her aunt; she felt positive if he were dead she would in some way know
it. It was springtime and the season for vessels to put into the harbor
for coal and fresh water on their way to the Arctic Ocean; and they
would bring him sometime she felt confident. Then he would be delighted
to hear of his daughter's discovery, and together they would grow to be
very rich indeed.
Eyllen was a sensible girl and a good reasoner, but her knowledge of
minerals was exceedingly limited. Each piece of white rock was, to her,
quartz; and the place where gold was found in any form was a mine, or
would be one later when developed. She really wished to find out if
there was more of the same gold-bearing ore at the spring, for unless
there were large masses of it she knew her discovery was worthless.
Then she thought of her often recurring and unpleasant sensations at the
spring, and it occurred to her that here was a way by which to gain
further knowledge. If she could bear the headaches and dizziness might
she not, by this means, trace the hidden ledges? It seemed reasonable
even to her inexperienced mind. But she would need to use considerable
caution. None must see the gold-bearing rock which was already so
fascinating to her. In some manner, she reasoned, she must find a way of
gaining information about minerals other than by asking questions.
Curiosity upon the subject would quickly give her friends the cue to her
new interest. She decided to visit the library of Father Peter in his
absence, and from his housekeeper borrow some book giving such
information. By talking to the good woman about her home work and
children she could manage to distract her attention so she would not
notice which book it was she was taking.
In this way Eyllen planned for hours before sleeping. When she finally
slept it was to dream of a beautiful water witch who lived in the bottom
of the mountain spring between the rocks, but when, on insisting upon a
nearer view she found it to be only herself with her dark hair floating
around her, she laughed aloud, and so awakened. This decided her,
however, upon one thing.
She would search for a tiny fragment of the beautiful rock containing as
much of the precious mineral as possible, and wear it suspended about
her neck underneath her dress; as this, according to tradition, would
surely preserve the wearer from witchcraft. Not that she believed
herself possessed of any spirit other than her own; but the strangeness
of the sudden indisposition attacking her at the spring, added to her
dream, caused her to greatly wonder.
A week passed. Eyllen developed a most remarkable passion for wild
flowers, along with a sudden and vigorous distaste for basket-making.
She declared the latter occupation gave her headache and loss of
appetite, and only the fresh mountain air made her feel like herself
again. In her aunt's cabin the window ledges were filled with blossoms,
and an overflow of the same was furnished the priest's housekeeper.
Then, too, a daily watch was kept for ships from the westward by the
girl whose strong limbs served her well in mountain climbing. As the sun
grew warmer and clearer above the islands, she could see old "Round Top"
begin to breathe. At times this mountain's snowy head became quite
hidden in the obscurity of misty vapor or smoke clouds, while the double
peak of Isanotski, rising as grandly as ever to its height above the
others, seemed, by its longer-retained snow cap, to assure the world of
its superiority.
Frequently, but cautiously, she rambled among the hills. Patiently she
investigated the rocks upon the hillside, quickly learning where she
might venture to be free from the sudden indisposition, and where it was
sure to attack her; for there appeared no cessation of the phenomenon.
With the hammer which she secretly fetched from home she hacked the
out-cropping lode in different directions. Everywhere in the white rocks
there were the golden specks scintillating in the sunshine. It was a
bona fide gold-bearing ledge. From the borrowed book she gained much
knowledge that was helpful, but with this more and more she felt her
powerlessness to proceed or to turn her newly found interest to good
account.
More than ever she longed to see her father. Between her walks to the
spring on the hillside she climbed the bluff and continued to look for
ships from the westward. To be sure other vessels were beginning to
arrive, and to welcome them the whole settlement habitually turned out
upon the wharf. There were empty water tanks re-filled, repairs made,
and larders replenished, while ship's officers drank, smoked, and told
sea yarns in the saloons along the water front.
Thus passed weeks of waiting to Eyllen and her aunt. It seemed that the
monotony would never end; but it did end suddenly at last.
One day as the two women sat busily at work upon their baskets the
youngster of the family rushed in quite breathless.
"A ship's in sight which flies the Russian flag! She's nearing the
harbor now! Some men with glasses on the bluff have sighted her, and
signalled to those below! She may be coming from Vladivostock and bring
news of my uncle!" and the lad dashed out of the cabin and down again
upon the wharf.
"Or, better yet, the ship may bring him!" suggested Eyllen, in a
flutter, hastily rising and putting away her work. "I must see if my
father has really come."
"I trust it is so; then will my prayers not be in vain. If he brings
money again will they be answered," said the girl's relative.
"If he brings no gold his daughter will be glad to see him," said Eyllen
in a slightly offended tone.
"I meant no harm, Eyllen. You surely understand me. Has not your father
been always welcome here?"
"Yes, yes, Aunt," and tears forced their way out of her eyes, as the
girl threw her shawl about her. "But come, we will soon find out about
this vessel, and who is on board."
The ship was now moving into the placid bay and toward the shore. From a
flag staff the Russian emblem already fluttered a welcome to the
visiting craft. To be sure, the shore flag was accompanied by one made
up of stars and stripes, and this last floated proudly at top of the
mast above the other, but the two flags seemed not to be on unfriendly
terms.
At last the vessel swung alongside the dock. Eagerly did Eyllen and her
aunt, standing among the group of natives, scan the faces of those on
the vessel. None were familiar, and they were about to turn disappointed
away when they heard a shout.
Some one on deck motioned to the two women to come to the ship's side,
and they hurriedly obeyed, scarcely knowing what they did.
"Were you looking for someone?" kindly inquired an officer in Russian.
"My father," replied the girl, disappointedly. "But he cannot be on
board your ship or he would have been out to greet us."
"Your father's name?" asked the officer.
"Fedor Michaelovitz," responded Eyllen.
"He is on board, but he is ill. We will fetch him ashore presently," but
even as he spoke two men passed through the door to the gangplank. They
carried a litter between them upon which lay stretched a man.
Eyllen rushed toward the litter. It was really her father, but so
changed that she would not have recognized him.
According to the physician's orders Fedor Michaelovitz was placed in the
small hospital established upon the islands for sailors, and there he
was well tended. In a few days he was far enough recovered to relate to
his daughter his story.
After leaving her three years before and meeting many vicissitudes and
disappointments, he had at last gained a fairly good position, when
smallpox overtook him, and during a long illness he had lost it.
Recovering and working his way up again elsewhere, he had lived frugally
in order to save a competence upon which to live with his daughter in
their own country to which he wished to take her.
When his wishes seemed about to be realized the bank in which his money
had been placed, failed, and he lost all his hard earned savings.
Weakened by discouragement he again fell ill, and then he decided to
sail for the Aleutians and see his daughter at all hazards. Penniless,
ill, and discouraged, he was a man who, in middle life, had still
nothing to show for years of work and hardships.
One redeeming feature of all this dark outlook, there was with him a
friend who was apparently moved by the misfortunes of Michaelovitz, and
that was a young Russian sailor with whom he had become acquainted some
years before, and who followed him wherever he went, even at the risk of
causing a corresponding failure in his own affairs by so doing.
The young man's name was Shismakoff, and he had proven himself not only
kindly and generous, but self-sacrificing and noble. Along with these
good and somewhat unusual qualities, he possessed more than average good
looks and abundant patience. He it was who now in the hospital
faithfully attended Michaelovitz, as was his habit.
This young man had been told but little of the family history of his
friend, only knowing that his wife was dead and that a daughter lived
upon the Aleutians with her aunt.
This much he knew upon landing. At sight of Eyllen's bright eyes and
rosy cheeks the young man's heart fluttered. She was good to look upon.
Without commenting upon it even to himself he immediately proceeded to
take, as compensation for attentions to her sick father, such keen
enjoyment in her presence as only those long isolated can know in the
society of ladies. Not that he forgot his manliness. For that the young
man was too sensible; but he simply drank in every word uttered by the
young girl, as a thirsty traveler would drink fresh water in a parched
and burning desert.
The girl, herself, was unconstrained. Probably in this lay her greatest
attraction. She had other hopes and interests, and they were centered in
her father's recovery, and in her rocks a few miles away on the
hillside.
Eyllen did not immediately relate her adventures to her father. He must
recover his health before she disclosed her secret. To this end she now
bent all her energies. A basket was traded to a neighbor for fowls in
order that he might have nourishing broths, and her fishing tackle was
brought into play to furnish the freshest of fish from the bay.
With attendants like Eyllen and Shismakoff, who could long remain upon a
sick bed? Especially on these beautiful green islands in spring-time?
Greatest of all grasses were those growing before the doors, and
brightest of all blossoms were those plucked by the hands of Eyllen.
Sweet was the fragrance of iris and violets, and lupins grew straight
stalked and fearless. Lilies, too, appeared later, and all crowded the
windows of the invalid whose heart was gladdened, softened, and
refreshed by their sweet and silent influence.
At her basket work Eyllen sat daily for hours with her father, until he
was strong enough to walk to her relative's cabin. Of course it was only
to be expected that Shismakoff would accompany them. Upon one side of
the convalescent he furnished support, while Eyllen assisted on the
other.
The girl's aunt had prepared a dinner especially for the visitors, at
which the incorrigible youngster had been instructed to appear only when
his elders had finished. It was Saturday, and the priest's school was
not in session that day. Freedom from this restraint had had its effect
upon the urchin, and his mother found it in her heart to frequently wish
that it had been a school day instead. With care she instructed him in
what manner to behave himself, and what things he must under no
consideration do, one of which was not to talk too much.
"In that case, mother, what I do say must count," said the boy, not dull
as to wit.
"Count fifty before you speak at all. Then you must consider what you
say, and you will not be foolish. I daresay you will still show yourself
feather-headed enough," and his mother sighed, apparently striving to be
resigned to the suspense of her position.
The visitors were telling of their recent voyage to the islands. The
youngster could keep quiet no longer.
"Eyllen has been long expecting you, Mr. Shismakoff. She often went to
the hilltop to wave to you, and I suppose she also called you. Did you
hear her across the water, and come in answer?"
The young man smiled.
"Be silent! you naughty boy!" commanded his mother, with as much force
as she could master.
Eyllen's color grew like the wild roses in the window.
"Did you hear her calling?" persisted the mischief loving youngster.
"I do not think so. I take it the saints directed me here, for none but
they could bring me this present happiness," said the visitor, gallantly
inclining his head to the one with the roses in her cheeks.
At this point Eyllen's father began to speak of other things, and the
irrepressible youngster subsided; while Eyllen and her aunt looked
modestly down upon the plates before them.
Two weeks passed. The ship which brought the sick man and his friend had
departed, leaving them behind. None were sad at its going. Eyllen's
father was rapidly improving, and gradually grew to feel that life was,
after all, worth having. To the younger man, each hour in the presence
of Eyllen seemed brighter even than the one before it, and a longing for
many of the same in the future took possession of him. There was no real
enjoyment out of her sight. His former existence looked to him a blank.
He could not go back to it. He could not leave this green island, the
clear mountain air made salt by great encircling waters and scented by
spring blossoms. There were no fish like those in these waters, and no
winds so free as the ones playing over the crests of Progromni and
Shishaldin. Finally, nowhere in the whole world was an equal to Eyllen
among women.
This last consideration settled everything. He was determined to win her
in marriage if possible, but her father no longer needed attention, and
he bethought himself to set to work at something by which to earn money.
More fishermen were in demand at this time in the settlement to supply
the constantly arriving ships with fresh fish, and he devoted himself
temporarily to this labor.
In her turn Eyllen was interested in Shismakoff, but she longed to
disclose her secret to her father, who, she felt confident, could not
refrain from sharing it with his friend. To this she could not yet
consent. She had suddenly grown wise with a wisdom not before exhibited.
If the young man loved her as she felt that he did, might not the
knowledge of her secret urge him to increase his attention? In all
probability it would, and she heartily repudiated this idea.
Of all things in the world, to be loved for her gold-bearing ledges
would be the worst of misfortunes, she reflected, and this feeling,
growing upon her, prevented her day after day from confiding in her
father. When he had recovered his strength sufficiently to walk among
the hills (she told herself) then she would inform him of her good
fortune; and even then he must be pledged to keep his own counsel.
At last the time came; the girl invited her father to walk with her upon
the hills to gather wild flowers.
"We will go first into the valley by way of the trail, Father, and then
come home another way. There are many beautiful blossoms and mosses, and
we will take our tin cup and lunch along with us," said Eyllen brightly
as she made ready for the tramp.
"Anywhere you say, Eyllen, only let it not be too far for my feet to
travel," replied the man indulgently, as he watched her, well pleased
with the grace of her movements.
"When we are tired we will sit and rest in the sunshine. See! Here is
buttermilk the priest's housekeeper has sent you. I will carry a
bottleful to refresh you when thirsty."
They then trudged off among the hills. A few short walks Michaelovitz
had already taken with his friend and good supporter at his arm, but who
was today away in his boat on the water, and he now leaned upon the
stock he carried in his right hand.
For a time Eyllen walked by her father's side, carrying her basket of
luncheon, but as the trail narrowed she led the way, restraining her
haste as best she could (for she was impatient to be at her ledges) lest
she should tire her father before their walk was ended.
Several times they halted to rest. As yet her father saw no reason for
hurrying. To loiter, to rest upon the hillside and chat in the sunshine
was what he liked; and here was his daughter fleet-footed and strong,
almost hurriedly leading him far into the valley between the hills as
though bent on some mission.
Where could she be going?
"Are you sure you know where you go, daughter? And that you will not get
us lost in the mountains? I have never before been so far from the
settlement in this direction, and we cannot hear the church bell ring,
eh, Eyllen?"
"No, Father, we care nothing for hearing the church bells now," laughed
the girl, "and as for losing ourselves, it is impossible, as I have many
times rambled over and through these hills. I know each rock as large as
my head, and I will show you some presently much larger and more
beautiful, as you are sure to agree with me."
"Rocks are not beautiful, child. I thought it was blossoms you wanted to
show me."
"So it is, but on our return. We have reached the place I wanted to show
you, Father. Sit upon this mound while I fetch a cup of water from the
spring," and the girl ran a few steps farther.
Returning with the water she said briskly, "now we will eat our lunch
while we rest and talk, for I have a little story to tell you in the
meantime," and the hands at the basket trembled a trifle.
A cloth was spread upon the ground, and the basket's contents turned out
upon it. There was the bottle of buttermilk which Eyllen declared she
would not carry home again, as it might be changed into butter by that
time, and she urged her father to drink it and eat heartily.
"But the story, Eyllen, the story! What is it you will tell me? I doubt
not 'tis some island-lover business, or a new gown you will politely ask
for when your father's appetite is quieted, as is the way of many keen
women, eh, little girl?" said Michaelovitz giving his daughter's pink
right ear a gentle tweak.
"There is neither new gown nor lover in it, and you will never guess, so
I am going directly to tell you," smiled Eyllen. "Do you see this piece
of pretty rock, Father?"
"There you go again with calling rocks pretty. But stay! What is this,
child? Where did you get it? Is there more? Do you know what it is that
sparkles?" questioned the man rapidly, bending forward toward his
daughter.
"Yes, Father, it is gold, and there is much more of it where that comes
from. I have found the ledges."
"You, child? You? How did it happen? Tell me."
Then the girl proceeded to relate her experience with which we are
already familiar; how she first came to drink at the spring, and her
peculiar sensations which were at first affrighting; how she persisted
in returning to the place until by accident she discovered the quartz
pieces in the water; her foolish fears of a water witch, including her
dream, and her decision to wear as a talisman a bit of the gold
besprinkled rock; of her hesitating in telling her father her secret for
fear he would divulge it to his companion, young Shismakoff, at the same
time entreating her listener to keep sacred her confidence for fear that
others would molest the treasure-laden ledges; and lastly, inquiring if
he would, as her partner, accept one half of the property as a present.
"May the blessed saints preserve us! my child, what is this you are
saying? Where are the ledges? Where are they?" and the man sprang to his
feet in excited interest. At that, the buttermilk flask rolled away down
the hillside where it landed against the stones below, breaking into
hundreds of flying fragments. The lunch basket, too, toppled over, with
the contents, luckily being only sandwiches of bread and butter; and
Eyllen, as excited now as her father, ran lightly down the path to the
spring from which she had filled her drinking cup a few minutes
earlier.
"Here are the ledges, Father, here they are! Come and see for yourself!"
pointing to the rocks she had already so thoroughly investigated.
The man quickly followed. He was weak and weary no longer. His walking
stick lay neglected on the ground beside the luncheon, and he had
forgotten that weariness or hunger were possible. Eagerly he examined
the formation, the quartz, the wall rocks and surroundings, ejaculating
and questioning Eyllen in the meantime.
She replied that she was positive no one knew of her interest in the
hillside, as she had carefully kept concealed her destination when
walking so frequently here. All prospecting had been done by herself,
and now she would gladly share the work, worry, and profits with him,
she laughingly avowed.
Only one condition would she rigidly impose, and that was that
Shismakoff should be kept in ignorance of their good fortune as long as
was possible.
At this her father arose from his stooping position among the rocks and
looked keenly at Eyllen.
"You mistake if you think that Shismakoff is unable to keep a secret,"
said he earnestly. Then seeing Eyllen's blushing and downcast
countenance, the facts began to take shape in his brain.
"Oh, ho! I see it! Is that your meaning? My wit is not the keenest, else
I would sooner have caught it. Well, well, child, perhaps you are right,
although I shall sorely want his counsel and advice in this matter. I
promise to withhold the knowledge of these ledges from him until I have
your permission to tell it; so rest easy, and fret not. He is a good
fellow, and I fancy will presently remove the necessity for further
secrecy by making known his intentions to your father. With your
acceptance of his hand there need be only confidence between us."
As he finished speaking, a wave of sentiment passed over him, and his
eyes filled with tears. Approaching his daughter, he took her hand in
his own, drew her closer to him and kissed her. "You are a good child,
Eyllen, and very like your mother. It is a pity she cannot be with us!
You are worthy of a good husband, and he will be one. You will have
great happiness."
Resuming his examination of the rocks he dropped his seriousness and
remarked in a lighter tone: "That he is a poor man is not important now
that you will have riches yourself. Should both possess wealth it would
be too much of good luck, and one fortune is quite sufficient."
Eyllen was now herself once more. Tilting her head backwards she
measured the sun with her eyes.
"It is time we returned now, Father," she said, "for we will have
flowers to gather by handfuls. There is no such thing for us as reaching
home empty handed. It would never do. You see I have been much at this
work, and know how to manage."
"Right you are, child, we will do so."
"Here is your walking stick, Father," holding it out to him.
"Bah! I do not need it! I am now strong."
"But, Father, please use the stick, because you must not be grown strong
too rapidly. It may cause comment, and you must not excite suspicion of
our good fortune, and why we came here today. Leave the stick where you
will tomorrow, but take it with you today," she urged laughingly, and
with eyes twinkling.
"To be sure,--to be sure. I forgot. I will not expose your secret,
child; have no fear."
With that they turned their faces toward home. Flowers nodded gaily on
all sides, and soon replaced the luncheon in their basket.
Mosses, green and velvety, sank beneath the pressure of each foot-fall,
and a brood of eaglets tested their pinions near the crag above the
trail.
Right glad was Fedor Michaelovitz before reaching home that he had
listened to Eyllen and carried his walking stick. Without its support he
would have found much more tedious the long walk from the mountains.
A hot supper, a pipe full of tobacco and a restful evening, however,
restored him, especially as Shismakoff made his appearance all spick and
span after his day's work on the water. The recital of his adventures
with a school of whale in mid-ocean, and the capture of one of them,
occupied a good share of the evening. Eyllen's father asked many
questions relative to the subject. To these were supplemented the
queries of the youngster, whose large dark eyes fairly stood out upon
his cheeks with wonder at the tale. To say that the boy's admiration for
Shismakoff was thereafter greatly augmented would be speaking much too
mildly. From that day, the young man was looked upon by him as a hero
who needed only a following of soldiers to make him a real general.
In this way the evening passed with slight reference to the tramp of
Eyllen and her father in the mountains, much to the girl's satisfaction.
Her mind was now relieved. Work upon her baskets was again taken up, and
perseveringly done. Michaelovitz, with walking stick in hand, tramped
among the hills alone often, considering it the affair of no one that a
pick and shovel did honest duty in his hands during the day, and lay
secreted beneath the rocks near the little spring when he returned to
his cabin at night-fall. If his capacious coat pockets contained bread
slices in the morning, it was empty by evening, and his hands full of
blossoms then quickly pacified the children he met in the village.
At times Eyllen accompanied her father. Then, at his direction, by the
use of her mysterious instinct for minerals, she could trace still
further the treasure-filled ledges from the spring or ore shute where
her initial discovery had been made. By this means, several hundred feet
of gold-bearing ledges were located and staked by the girl and her
father, whose active labor in the open air, along with a brightened
future and more encouraging life prospects, soon caused the man to grow
strong and well again. Shismakoff and Eyllen became more fond of each
other day by day, until at last it was beyond his patience to endure
uncertainty longer, and he told her of his great love, begging for a
response in the form of a promise of marriage. To this the girl replied
as he desired, taking no note of his reference to a lack of exchequer,
and that he must go away from the islands in order to make money more
rapidly.
A few days afterwards, Michaelovitz invited the young man to join
himself and daughter in a ramble to the hills. Eyllen thought it was no
harm to give the whales and fishes one day more of freedom, she said,
and his boat needed caulking. She insisted that the boat must be made
entirely seaworthy, now that it must carry her future husband; and she
could not endure the thought of his life being in danger.
Upon reaching the vicinity of the spring in the ledges, Michaelovitz
proposed that they rest for a little and listen to a story which Eyllen
had to relate to them, but (with a woman's usual perverseness) when they
were comfortably seated upon the grass she refused to begin it. Would
she finish if her father began it? they asked.
No, she would not even promise to finish. If her father wished the story
to be told, then he must tell it, she declared between laughing and
blushing.
The old man needed no urging. He proceeded to relate the story of the
discovery of her gold ledges. Of her patiently locating the ledges in
the face of the fact that her strange electric instinct for minerals
gave her real suffering; and of her taking him into her secret; not
omitting to tell of the water witch, the talisman, and the dream, as
well as her wish that Shismakoff be kept in ignorance to the last
moment. It was now that Michaelovitz forced his daughter to regret that
she had not herself told the tale.
He did not spare her blushes. On the contrary he bore down upon the
finale of the narrative with all the vigor of a surgeon performing a
serious duty, adding that she had had her wishes in the matter
gratified, and she ought to be satisfied that their listener was a
genuine lover, and not one seeking a wife for her possessions.
At this juncture Eyllen's poor cheeks could blush no longer. Her eyes
were wet, but her lips were smiling; and Michaelovitz betook himself to
the path which led to the spring, thus giving the lovers an opportunity
to be alone.
Shismakoff was the first to speak.
"So this is the little one who wears the talisman," he laughed. "But it
has no power to protect you from witchcraft, as I can honestly testify.
See! Here in me is the proof of my story. Have you not bewitched _me_?"
his strong arms moving tenderly around the girl's little jacket, while
he covered her lips with kisses.
"Give the talisman to me, darling, that I may wear it until your love
shall be as strong for me as is my own for Eyllen!"
Then the girl, thinking him in earnest, handed it to her lover who hung
it about his neck beneath his waistcoat next to his heart. So the lovers
had forgotten the ledges and the man among them, and thought only of
their love and each other; the rocks, gold-laden though they were, as
well as everything else, being then of secondary importance.
[Illustration]
End of Project Gutenberg's The Trail of a Sourdough, by May Kellogg Sullivan