Growth of the Soil PDF
Preview Growth of the Soil
WMm r *> * BEffiS S? j>V v V .(cid:127) <ÿ*(cid:127) V.‘ SEiSa HAMSUN Mur* WMM>, I/- ' A Osfr* \* * <~.. --ÿ«ÿ-V ‘ -v—; v. » k.v * « - A'i » *. x. y., GROWTH OF THE GROWTH OF THE SOIL BY KNUT HAMSUN GYLDENDAL ii BURLEIGH STREET, COVENT GARDEN LONDON, W.C.2 COPENHAGEN. CHRISTIANIA. Original Title: “Markens Grade.™ Translatedfrom theNorwegian by IV. IVORSTER, Af.A. .... FirstPublished . . . April IQ20 SecondImpression . . . SeptemberIQ20 ThirdImpression . . . June IQ2I FourthImpression SeptemberiQ2i /, t h -f r> CT> a; S 2Z £ BOOKI «c CHAPTER I THE long, long road over the moors and up into the — forest who trodit into being first of all? Man, a humanbeing, the first that came here. There was no pathbeforehecame. Afterward,some beast or other, follow¬ ing the faint tracks over marsh and moorland, wearing them deeper; after these again someLappgained scent of the path, andtook that way from f]eld to fjeld, looking to his reindeer. Thus was made the road through the great Almenning—the commontracts without an owner; no-man’s-land. The man comes, walking toward the north. He bears a sack, the first sack, carrying food and some few implements. A strong,coarse fellow, withared iron beard,and little scars on faceand hands; sites of oldwounds—were they gained in toilor fight? Maybethemanhasbeeninprison,and is look¬ ingfor aplace to hide; or a philosopher,maybe,in search of peace. Thisor that, he comes; the figure of a man in this great solitude. He trudges on; bird and beast are silent all abouthim; now andagainheuttersawordor two, speaking to .. himself. “Eyah—well, well .”—sohe speaks to himself. Hereandthere, wherethemoors giveplace to a kindlier spot, an openspacein themidstoftheforest,helaysdown the sack and goesexploring; after a while he returns,heaves the sack tohis shoulders again, and trudges on. So through the day, notingtimebythesun; night falls,andhethrowshimselfdown ontheheather,restingon onearm. A fewhours’rest, and he is on the move again: “Eyah, well ...”—movingnorthwardagain,notingtimeby the sun; ameal ofbarleycakesandgoats’milk cheese, adrink of water fromthestream,and on again. This day too he journeys, for i* GROWTH OF THE SOIL 2 GROWTH OF THE SOIL there are many kindly spots in the woods to be explored. Whatisheseeking? Aplace, apatchof ground? An emi¬ grant, maybe, from the homestead tracts; he keeps his eyes alert,lookingout; nowandagainheclimbsto the topofahill, S lookingout. Thesun goes down oncemore. He moves along the western side of a valley; wooded ground, withleafytrees among the spruce and pine, and grass beneath. Hours of this, and twilight is falling, but his ear catches the faintpurlofrunningwater, anditheartenshim like thevoiceofalivingthing. Heclimbs the slope, and sees the valleyhalf in darkness below; beyond, the sky to the south- Heliesdownto rest. Themorning shows him a range of pasture andwoodland. He moves down, and there is a green hillside; far below, a glimpse of the stream, andahare bounding across. The man nods his head, as it were approvingly—the stream is not so broadbut that aharemaycrossitatabound. A whitegrouse sittingclose upon its nest starts up at his feet with an angry hiss, andhenods again: featheredgame and fur—a good spot this. Heather, bilberry, and cloudberry cover the ground; there are tiny ferns,and the seven-pointed star flowers of the wintergreen. Hereandtherehe stopstodigwithaniron tool, and finds good mould, or peaty soil, manured with the rotted woodandfallenleavesof a thousand years. He nods,to say that hehas foundhimself aplace to stay and live: ay,he will stay hereandlive. Two days he goes exploring the country round, returning each evening to the hillside. He sleeps at night ona bedofstackedpine; alreadyhe feels at home here, witha bedofpinebeneathanoverhangingrock. The worst of his task had been to find the place; thisno¬ man’s place, buthis. Now, there was work to fill his days. He started at once,stripping birch bark in thewoods farther off, while the sap was still in the trees. Thebark hepressed anddried,andwhen he had gathered a heavyload,carried it allthemilesback to thevillage, to be soldfor building. Then back to the hillside, withnew sacksof food and implements; GROWTH OF THE SOIL GROWTH OF THE SOIL 3 flour and pork,acooking-pot,a spade—out and back alongthe wayhehadcome, carryingloadsall the time. Aborncarrier of loads,a lumbering barge of a man in the forest—oh, as if he loved his calling, tramping long roads and carrying heavy burdens; asif life without a loadupon one’s shoulders were a miserablething,nolifeforhim. Onedayhe cameupwithmorethan theloadhebore; came leading three goats in a leash. Hewasproudof his goatsas iftheyhadbeenhornedcattle,andtendedthemkindly. Then came the first stranger passing, a nomadLapp; at sight of the goats,heknew that this was aman who had cometo stay, and spoke tohim. “Yougoingtolivehere for goodi” “Ay,” saidtheman. “What’syourname!” “Isak. Youdon’tknowof awomanbodyanywhere’dcome andhelp?” “No. ButI’llsay a wordofit toallImeet.” “Ay,do that. SayI’ve creatures here,and none to look to them.” TheLapp went onhisway. Isak—ay,hewould sayaword of that. The man on the hillside was no runaway; he had told his name. A runaway? He would have been found. Onlya worker,and a hardy one. Heset aboutcuttingwinter fodder for hisgoats,clearingthe ground,diggingafield,shifting stones,making a wallof stones. By the autumn he had built a house for himself,ahut of turf,soundandstrong and warm; storms could not shake it, and nothing could burn it down. Here wasahome; he could go inside and shut thedoor, and staythere; couldstand outside on the door-slab,theowner of that house,if any should pass by. There were two roomsin the hut; for himself at the oneend,andfor his beasts at the other. Farthest in,against thewallof rock, was the hayloft. Everythingwasthere. Two more Lapps come by, father and son. They stand resting with both hands on their long staves, taking stock of GROWTH 4 GROWTH OF THE SOIL the hut and the clearing,notingthe soundtof the goat-bellsup onthehillside. “Goddag,” say theLapps. “And here’sfinefolk come to live.” Lappstalk that way, withflattering words. “Youdon’t know of any womanhereaboutsto help?” says Isak,thinkingalwaysofbut onething. “Womantohelp? No. But we’llsay a wordof it.” “Ay,if you’d be so good. That I’vea houseanda bit of groundhere, andgoats,but no womantohelp. Say that.” Oh,he had sought about for a woman to helpeachtimehe had beendownto the village withhisloads of bark,but there was none to befound. They would look at him, a widow or an old unmarried one or so,but all afraid to offer, whatever might be in their minds. Isak couldn’t tell why. Couldn’t tellwhy? Who would go as help to live with a man in the wilds, ever so manymilesaway—a wholeday’s journeytothe nearestneighbour? Andthemanhimselfwasno waycharming orpleasantbyhislooks,far fromit; and whenhe spokeit was no tenor witheyes to heaven, but acoarse voice, somethinglike abeast’s. Well,he wouldhave tomanage alone. Inwinter,hemade great woodentroughs, and sold them in thevillage,carryingsacksof food and tools back through the snow5 hard days when he was tied to a load. There were the goats,andnone tolook to them; hecouldnot be away for long. Andwhatdid he do? Needmade him wise; hisbrain was strong and little used; he trained it up to ever more and more. His first way was to let the goats loose before startingoffhimself,so that they couldget a full feedamongthe undergrowth in the woods. But he found another plan. He took abucket,a great vessel,andhungit upbytheriver so that a single drop fell in at a time, takingfourteenhours to fill it. Whenit was full to thebrim, the weight wasright; thebucket sank,andindoingso,pulledalineconnectedwith thehayloft; atrap-door opened,andthreebundlesoffodder camethrough— thegoats were fed. GROWTH OF THE SOIL GROWTH OF THE SOIL 5 That washis way. A brightidea; aninspiration, maybe, sent fromGod. The man had none to help him but himself. It served his need until late in the autumn; then came the first snow,thenrain, then snow again, snowingall the time. And hismachine went wrong; the bucket wasfilledfrom above, opening the trap too soon. He-fixed a cover over, and all went well again for a time; then came winter, the drop of water froze to an icicle, andstoppedthemachinefor good. Thegoatsmust do astheirmaster—learnto do without. Hard times—themanhadneedofhelp,and there wasnone, yet stillhefoundaway. Heworkedandworkedathishome; hemadea window in thehut withtwopanesof real glass,and that was a bright andwonderful dayin his life. No need of lighting fires to see; he could sit indoors and work at his ... wooden troughs by daylight. Better days, brighter days eyah! He read no books, but his thoughts were oftenwithGod; it wasnatural, comingof simplicity andawe. Thestarsinthe sky, the wind in the trees,the solitude,and the wide-spreading snow, themight of earthand over earthfilled him many times a day with a deep earnestness. He was a sinner and feared God; onSundays he washed himself out of reverence for the holyday,but workednonetheless as throughthe week. Spring came; he worked on his patch of ground, and planted potatoes. His live stock multiplied; the two she- goatshadeachhad twins, makingsevenin all about the place. He made a bigger shed for them, ready for further increase, andput acouple of glass panesinthere too. Ay, ’twaslighter andbrighternowinevery way. * And then at last came help; the woman he needed. She tackedabout for a longtime, this way and that across thehill¬ side,before venturing near; it was evening before she could bringherselftocomedown. Andthenshe came—abig,brown¬ eyed girl, full-built and coarse, with good,heavy hands, and rough hide brogues on her feet as if she had been a Lapp,
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