Roumanian Stories Part 17

He had scarcely gone twenty yards when--bang! An axle-pin broke.

"Well, here's a to-do!"

"Woe is me! Mosh Nichifor, we shall be benighted in the wood."

"Don't take it amiss, Mistress Malca. Come, it's only happened to me once in my life. While you eat a little something, and the mares put away a bit of fodder, I shall have replaced the axle-pin."

When old Nichifor came to look at the hook, the little axe had disappeared!

"Well, what has been had to be," said old Nichifor, knitting his eyebrows, and getting angry as he thought of it. "If G.o.d punishes the old woman, may he punish her! See how she takes care of me; there is no axe here."

When poor Malca heard this she began to sigh and to say:

"Mosh Nichifor, what are we to do?"

"Now, young lady, don't lose heart, for I have still a ray of hope."

He drew his pocket-knife out of its sheath, he went to the side of the carriage, and began to cut away at a young oak of the previous year. He cut it as best he could, then he began to rummage about in a box in the carriage to find some rope; but how could he find it if it had not been put in? After looking and looking in vain, he cut the cord from the nose-bag, and a strap from the bridle of one of the mares to tie the sapling where it was wanted, put the wheel in position, slipped in the bit of wood which ran from the head of the axle to the staff-side of the carriage, twisted round the chain which connected the head of the axle with the shaft, and tied it to the step; then he lit his pipe and said:

"Look, my dear young lady, how necessity teaches a man what to do. With old Nichifor of Tzutzuen no one comes to grief on the road. But from now on sit tight in the bottom of the carriage, and hold fast to the back of your seat, for I must take these mares in hand and make them gallop. Yes, I warrant you, my old woman won't have an easy time when I get home. I'll play the devil with her and teach her how to treat her husband another time, for 'a woman who has not been beaten is like a broken mill.' Hold tight, Mistress Malca! Houp-la!"

And at once the mares began to gallop, the wheels to go round, and the dust to whirl up into the sky. But in a few yards the sapling began to get hot and brittle and--off came the wheel again!

"Ah! Everything is contrary! It's evident I crossed a priest early this morning or the devil knows what."

"Mosh Nichifor, what are we to do?"

"We shall do what we shall do, young lady. But now stay quiet here, and don't speak a word. It's lucky this didn't happen somewhere in the middle of the fields. Praise be to G.o.d, in the forest there is enough wood and to spare. Perhaps some one will catch us up who can lend me an axe." And as he spoke he saw a man coming towards them.

"Well met, good man!"

"So your carriage has broken the road!"

"Put chaff aside, man; it would be better if you came and helped me to mend this axle, for you can see my heart's breaking with my ill luck."

"But I am in a hurry to get to Oshlobeni. You'll have to lament in the forest to-night; I don't think you'll die of boredom."

"I am ashamed of you," said Nichifor sulkily. "You are older than I am and yet you have such ideas in your head."

"Don't get excited, good man, I was only joking. Good luck! The Lord will show you what to do." And on he went.

"Look, Mistress Malca, what people the devil has put in this world!

He is only out to steal. If there had been a barrel of wine or brandy about, do you think he would have left the carriage stuck in the middle of the road all that time? But I see, anything there is to do must be done by old Nichifor. We must have another try."

And again he began to cut another sapling. He tried and he tried till he got that, too, into place. Then he whipped up the mares and once more trotted a little way, but at the first slope, the axle-pin broke again.

"Now, Mistress Malca, I must say the same as that man, we shall have to spend the night in the forest."

"Oh! Woe is me! Woe is me! Mosh Nichifor, what are you saying?"

"I am saying what is obvious to my eyes. Look yourself; can't you see the sun is going down behind the hill, and we are still in the same place? It is nothing at all, so don't worry. I know of a clearing in the wood quite near here. We will go there, and we shall be just as though we were at home. The place is sheltered and the mares can graze. You'll sleep in the carriage, and I shall mount guard all night. The night soon pa.s.ses, we must spend it as best we can, but I will remind my old woman all the rest of her days of this misfortune, for it is her fault that things have gone so with me."

"Well, do what you think best, Mosh Nichifor; it's sure to be right."

"Come, young lady, don't take it too much to heart, for we shall be quite all right."

And at once old Nichifor unharnessed the mares and, turning the carriage, he drew it as well as he could, till he reached the clearing.

"Mistress Malca, it is like a paradise straight from G.o.d here; where one lives for ever, one never dies! But you are not accustomed to the beauty of the world. Let us walk a little bit while we can still see, for we must collect sticks to keep enough fire going all night to ward off the mosquitoes and gnats in the world."

Poor Malca saw it was all one now. She began to walk about and collect sticks.

"Lord! you look pretty, young lady. It seems as though you are one of us. Didn't your father once keep an inn in the village somewhere?"

"For a long time he kept the inn at Bodesti."

"And I was wondering how you came to speak Moldavian so well and why you looked like one of our women. I cannot believe you were really afraid of the wolf. Well, well, what do you think of this clearing? Would you like to die without knowing the beauty of the world? Do you hear the nightingales, how charming they are? Do you hear the turtle-doves calling to each other?"

"Mosh Nichifor, won't something happen to us this evening? What will Itzic say?"

"Itzic? Itzic will think himself a lucky man when he sees you at home again."

"Do you think Itzic knows the world? Or what sort of accidents could happen on the road?"

"He only knows how to walk about his hearth or by the oven like my worn-out old woman at home. Let me see whether you know how to make a fire."

Malca arranged the sticks; old Nichifor drew out the tinder box and soon had a flame. Then old Nichifor said:

"Do you see, Mistress Malca, how beautifully the wood burns?"

"I see, Mosh Nichifor, but my heart is throbbing with fear."

"Ugh! you will excuse me, but you seem to belong to the Itzic breed. Pluck up a little courage! If you are so timid, get into the carriage, and go to sleep: the night is short, daylight soon comes."

Malca, encouraged by old Nichifor, got into the carriage and lay down; old Nichifor lighted his pipe, spread out his sheepskin cloak and stretched himself by the side of the fire and puffed away at his pipe, and was just going off to sleep when a spark flew out on to his nose!

"d.a.m.n! That must be a spark from the sticks Malca picked up; it has burnt me so. Are you asleep, Mistress?"

"I think I was sleeping a little, Mosh Nichifor, but I had a nightmare and woke up."

"I have been unlucky too; a spark jumped out on to my nose and frightened sleep away or I might have slept all night. But can anyone sleep through the mad row these nightingales are making? They seem to do it on purpose. But then, this is their time for making love to each other. Are you asleep, young lady?"

"I think I was going to sleep, Mosh Nichifor."

"Do you know, young lady, I think I will put out the fire now at once: I have just remembered that those wicked wolves prowl about and come after smoke."

"Put it out, Mosh Nichifor, if that's the case."