Pelle the Conqueror Part 54

"My father, and his father, and all of our family I have ever known, we've all had something in us so that we've been driven to improve the soil, without thinking of our own comfort. But it certainly never entered the mind of one of us that we should ever hear it ill spoken of--and by one of our own people too!" La.s.se spoke with his face turned away--as did the Almighty when He was wroth with His people; and Pelle felt as though he were a hateful renegade, as bad as bad could be. But nevertheless he would not give in.

"I should be no use at all here," he said apologetically, gazing in the direction of the sea. "I don't believe in it."

"No, you've cut yourself loose from it all, you have!" retorted La.s.se bitterly. "But you'll repent it some day, in the long run. Life among the strangers there isn't all splendor and enjoyment."

Pelle did not answer; he felt at that moment too much of a man to bandy words. He contained himself, and they went onward in silence.

"Well, of course, it isn't an estate," said La.s.se suddenly, in order to take the sting out of further criticism. Pelle was still silent.

Round the house the land was cultivated, and all round the cultivated land the luxuriant heather revealed disappearing traces of cultivation, and obliterated furrows.

"This was a cornfield once," said Pelle.

"Well, to think of your seeing that right off!" exclaimed La.s.se, half sarcastically, half in real admiration. "The deuce of an eye you've got, you truly have! I should certainly have noticed nothing particular about the heath--if I had not known. Yes, that has been under cultivation, but the heath has won it back again! That was under my predecessor, who took in more than he could work, so that it ruined him. But you can see now that something can be done with the land!" La.s.se pointed to a patch of rye, and Pelle was obliged to recognize that it looked very well. But through the whole length of the field ran high ridges of broken stone, which told him what a terrible labor this soil demanded before it could be brought under cultivation. Beyond the rye lay newly-broken soil, which looked like a dammed-up ice-field; the plough had been driven through mere patches of soil. Pelle looked at it all, and it made him sad to think of his father.

La.s.se himself was undismayed.

"As it is, it needs two to hold the plough. Karna is very strong, but even so it's as though one's arms would be torn from one's body every time the plough strikes. And most of it has to be broken up with pick and drill--and now and again it takes a bit of a sneeze. I use dynamite; it's more powerful than powder, and it bites down into the ground better," he said proudly.

"How much is under cultivation here?" asked Pelle.

"With meadow and garden, almost fourteen acres; but it will be more before the year is out."

"And two families have been ruined already by those fourteen acres,"

said Karna, who had come out to call them in to dinner.

"Yes, yes; G.o.d be merciful to them--and now we get the fruit of their labors! The parish won't take the farm away again--not from us," he said. La.s.se spoke in a tone full of self-reliance. Pelle had never seen him stand so upright.

"I can never feel quite easy about it," said Karna; "it's as though one were ploughing up churchyard soil. The first who was turned out by the parish hanged himself, so they say."

"Yes, he had a hut on the heath there--where you see the elder-trees--but it's fallen to pieces since then. I'm so glad it didn't happen in the house." La.s.se shuddered uncomfortably. "People say he haunts the place when any misfortune is in store for those that come after him."

"Then the house was built later?" asked Pelle, astonished, for it had such a tumble-down appearance.

"Yes, my predecessor built that. He got the land from the parish free for twenty years, provided he built a house and tilled a tonde of land a year. Those were not such bad conditions. Only he took in too much at a time; he was one of those people who rake away fiercely all the morning and have tired themselves out before midday. But he built the house well"--and La.s.se kicked the thin mud-daubed wall--"and the timber-work is good. I think I shall break a lot of stone when the winter comes; the stone must be got out of the way, and it isn't so bad to earn a few hundred kroner. And in two or three years we will make the old house into a barn and build ourselves a new house--eh, Karna? With a cellar underneath and high steps outside, like they have at Stone Farm. It could be of unhewn granite, and I can manage the walls myself."

Karna beamed with joy, but Pelle could not enter into their mood. He was disillusioned; the descent from his dream to this naked reality was too great. And a feeling rose within him of dull resentment against this endless labor, which, inexperienced though he was, was yet part of his very being by virtue of the lives of ten, nay, twenty generations. He himself had not waged the hard-fought war against the soil, but he had as a matter of course understood everything that had to do with tilling the soil ever since he could crawl, and his hands had an inborn apt.i.tude for spade and rake and plough. But he had not inherited his father's joy in the soil; his thoughts had struck out in a new direction. Yet this endless bondage to the soil lay rooted in him, like a hatred, which gave him a survey unknown to his father. He was reasonable; he did not lose his head at the sight of seventy acres of land, but asked what they contained. He himself was not aware of it, but his whole being was quick with hostility toward the idea of spending one's strength in this useless labor; and his point of view was as experienced as though he had been La.s.se's father.

"Wouldn't you have done better to buy a cottage-holding with twelve or fourteen acres of land, and that in a good state of cultivation?" he asked.

La.s.se turned on him impatiently. "Yes, and then a man might stint and save all his life, and never get beyond cutting off his fly to mend his seat; he'd most likely spend twice what he made! What the deuce! I might as well have stayed where I was. Here, it's true, I do work harder and I have to use my brains more, but then there's a future before me. When I've once got the place under cultivation this will be a farm to hold its own with any of them!" La.s.se gazed proudly over his holding; in his mind's eye it was waving with grain and full of prime cattle.

"It would carry six horses and a score or two of cows easily," he said aloud. "That would bring in a nice income! What do you think, Karna?"

"I think the dinner will be cold," said Karna, laughing. She was perfectly happy.

At dinner La.s.se proposed that Pelle should send his clothes to be washed and mended at home. "You've certainly got enough to do without that,"

he said indulgently. "Butcher Jensen goes to market every Sat.u.r.day; he'd take it for you and put it down by the church, and it would be odd if on a Sunday no one from the heath went to church, who could bring the bundle back to us."

But Pelle suddenly turned stubborn and made no reply.

"I just thought it would be too much for you to wash and mend for yourself," said La.s.se patiently. "In town one must have other things to think about, and then it isn't really proper work for a man!"

"I'll do it myself all right," murmured Pelle ungraciously.

Now he would show them that he could keep himself decent. It was partly in order to revenge himself for his own neglect that he refused the offer.

"Yes, yes," said La.s.se meekly; "I just asked you. I hope you won't take it amiss."

However strong Karna might be, and however willing to help in everything, La.s.se did greatly feel the need of a man to work with him.

Work of a kind that needed two had acc.u.mulated, and Pelle did not spare himself. The greater part of the day was spent in heaving great stones out of the soil and dragging them away; La.s.se had knocked a sledge together, and the two moorland horses were harnessed up to it.

"Yes, you mustn't look at them too closely," said La.s.se, as he stroked the two scarecrows caressingly. "Just wait until a few months have gone by, and then you'll see! But they've plenty of spirit now."

There was much to be done, and the sweat was soon pouring down their faces; but they were both in good spirits. La.s.se was surprised at the boy's strength--with two or three such lads he could turn the whole wilderness over. Once again he sighed that Pelle was not living at home; but to this Pelle still turned a deaf ear. And before they were aware of it Karna had come out again and was calling them to supper.

"I think we'll harness the horses and drive Pelle halfway to town--as a reward for the work he's done," said La.s.se gaily. "And we've both earned a drive." So the two screws were put into the cart.

It was amusing to watch La.s.se; he was a notable driver, and one could not but be almost persuaded that he had a pair of blood horses in front of him. When they met any one he would cautiously gather up the reins in order to be prepared lest the horses should shy--"they might so easily bolt," he said solemnly. And when he succeeded in inducing them to trot he was delighted. "They take some holding," he would say, and to look at him you would have thought they called for a strong pair of wrists.

"d.a.m.n it all, I believe I shall have to put the curb on them!" And he set both his feet against the dashboard, and sawed the reins to and fro.

When half the distance was covered Father La.s.se wanted to drive just a little further, and again a little further still--oh, well, then, they might as well drive right up to the house! He had quite forgotten that the following day would be a day of hard labor both for himself and for the horses. But at last Pelle jumped out.

"Shan't we arrange that about your washing?" asked La.s.se.

"No!" Pelle turned his face away--surely they might stop asking him that!

"Well, well, take care of yourself, and thanks for your help. You'll come again as soon as you can?"

Pelle smiled at them, but said nothing; he dared not open his mouth, for fear of the unmanly lump that had risen in his throat. Silently he held out his hand and ran toward the town.

VI

The other apprentices were able to provide themselves with clothes, as they worked on their own account in their own time; they got work from their friends, and at times they pirated the master's customers, by underbidding him in secret. They kept their own work under the bench; when the master was not at home they got it out and proceeded with it.

"To-night I shall go out and meet my girl," they would say, laughing.

Little Nikas said nothing at all.

Pelle had no friends to give him work, and he could not have done much.

If the others had much to do after work-hours or on Sundays he had to help them; but he gained nothing by so doing. And he also had Nilen's shoes to keep mended, for old acquaintances' sake.

Jeppe lectured them at great length on the subject of tips, as he had promised; for the townsfolk had been complaining of this burdensome addition to their expenditure, and in no measured terms had sworn either to abate or abolish this tax on all retail transactions. But it was only because they had read of the matter in the newspapers, and didn't want to be behind the capital! They always referred to the subject when Pelle went round with his shoes, and felt in their purses; if there was a shilling there they would hide it between their fingers, and say that he should have something next time for certain--he must remind them of it another time! At first he did remind them--they had told him to do so--but then Jeppe received a hint that his youngest apprentice must stop his attempts at swindling. Pelle could not understand it, but he conceived an increasing dislike of these people, who could resort to such a shameless trick in order to save a penny piece, which they would never have missed.

Pelle, who had been thinking that he had had enough of the world of poor folk, and must somehow contrive to get into another cla.s.s, learned once again to rely on the poor, and rejoiced over every pair of poor folk's shoes which the master anathematized because they were so worn out. The poor were not afraid to pay a shilling if they had one; it made him feel really sad to see how they would search in every corner to get a few pence together, and empty their children's money-boxes, while the little ones stood by in silence, looking on with mournful eyes. And if he did not wish to accept their money they were offended. The little that he did receive he owed to people who were as poor as himself.

Money, to these folk, no longer consisted of those round, indifferent objects which people in the upper strata of human society piled up in whole heaps. Here every shilling meant so much suffering or happiness, and a grimy little copper would still the man's angry clamor and the child's despairing cry for food. Widow Hoest gave him a ten-ore piece, and he could not help reflecting that she had given him her mid-day meal for two days to come!