Читать книгу Giants in the Earth: A Saga of the Prairie - O. E. Rölvaag - Страница 34

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In the evening of the following day the loaded wagons arrived from town; they brought great stores of curiosities, and the men who drove them had many remarkable tales to tell.

Hans Olsa, who had carried fifteen dollars in cash from Per Hansa to buy merchandise with besides going surety for him for a plow and a horse rake, came first to their house to unload, before going home. There was a great mountain of bags and packages, sacks and boxes; but best of all were the plow and the rake. The latter, especially,--it was painted in such beautiful, rich colours, red, blue, and green; it looked so impressive standing there in the yard, with its seat reared high in the air . . . like a veritable throne! Nothing would do but Store-Hans must climb up and try it at once; he was wondering if they couldn't hitch their new pony to this wonderful rig! . . . Still more marvellous things than this had come from town; but Store-Hans was fully occupied for a while and did not see them till later. Over at Tönseten's stood a mowing machine, which could cut both hay and wheat; this also had a seat high up in the air; and at the Solum boys' the sights were equally remarkable.

There was a grand celebration at Hans Olsa's house that night. Tönseten and Per Hansa arrived long before the others to have a talk together. They found much to do, and many important matters to discuss and settle. Everything that had been borrowed during the past season must now be paid back, and that was a complicated affair; for at one time one kind of measure had been used, at another time another; they were all in the same boat. Everyone owed everyone else--and now it was time to square the accounts. Hans Olsa, who during the shortage had had the most to lend, was now left with enough supplies to stock a good-sized store.

But the goods were what interested Per Hansa least of all just now; he was eaten up with curiosity, and only wanted to ask questions; he had to hear every detail of their difficulties and adventures on the way. . . . Had they run across many people? What news had they picked up? Did there seem to be many settlers moving west? How did the prospects look where they had been? . . . Was he a fair-minded man, this fellow they had bargained with--the one who had trusted them for the plow and the rake? Did he look like a chap who would extend still further credit to a poor devil who had an honest face and came to him in a straightforward way? . . . God knows, Per Hansa needed such a blessed lot of things!

--Yes, Hans Olsa would say that the man seemed to be a pretty decent sort of fellow; he spoke only English, however, so one couldn't get far with him in the way of talk; this was a bad piece of news for Per Hansa. His goods were fairly expensive, too; but one couldn't expect anything better out here. . . . On second thought, Hans Olsa seriously doubted whether it would be possible to get further credit from him. At the start of their dickering, the man wouldn't listen to a word of extending credit; but Syvert had argued with him so long and sensibly that he had finally yielded, on condition that they both sign their names as security for the plow and the rake. . . . By this time, anyway, he knew they were going to buy so much from him that it wouldn't have paid him to be unreasonable.

The returned voyagers, however, thought that the folks at home had stranger tales than their own to tell. It seemed nothing short of a miracle that Per Hansa had been able to bring back to life an Indian chief with one foot in the grave--those were the very words Kjersti had used to her husband. Tönseten swore that he had never heard anything so strange; by George! it was more exciting than any storybook ever written!

. . . "I declare, Per Hansa," said Hans Olsa, looking at him in open admiration, "it's a queer thing about you! No matter how hard you're put to it, you always give a good account of yourself! . . . I was dead set on having you go along with us this trip; we could have arranged it somehow, you know. Syvert and I were speaking about it only the night before we left; but then we both decided that we could feel so much more comfortable about going away, knowing that you were here. . . . It was an act of Providence, I say, to leave you home this time!" . . . Tönseten nodded yes-and-amen to all that Hans Olsa had said.

Per Hansa accepted their homage very modestly; he drew a deep breath and started to reply; but words failed him, and he had to begin all over again.

. . . "Oh, well--so much for that, boys. Forget it, now! I didn't do anything out of the ordinary. But I might as well own up that when I told Ole to get Old Maria I didn't have any courage to spare! . . . There came the band of Indians, thirty strong or more--and here I stood, alone with three crazy women! . . . It looked like far from plain sailing, I can tell you!" . . .

"I don't doubt it a bit!" agreed Hans Olsa. "It's a wonder to me that you didn't take the women and try to run away!"

"Yes, but where could I run to? Besides, they had horses. . . . The women were crying and carrying on, you know. . . . And just then it crossed my mind, Hans Olsa, that if you were only near enough to sing out to--and you, too, Syvert--I'd gladly have given my right hand, or both of them!"

"Sam wasn't much use to you, eh?" asked Tönseten.

"No, Syvert, Sam isn't quite equal to such a job." But then Per Hansa felt that he had been too harsh; he quickly added: "Let's hope that he, too, will have guts some day. . . . The boy has plenty of good qualities. . . ."

Meanwhile Beret and Kjersti had arrived; the Solum boys turned up at last, and then they were all gathered. The women had gone with Sörine into her new house; they were curious to see what her husband had brought; she had to give both of them a taste from this bag and that. The menfolk remained sitting behind the barn; they had many weighty matters to discuss, and didn't want to be interrupted; just now the hay cutting seemed to be the all-absorbing topic. . . . Per Hansa's boys and Hans Olsa's girl were chasing one another around the sod hut, playing "Indian."

It was a strange thing, however, the number of trips the men had to make into the barn to look at the window and door which Hans Olsa had brought. There must indeed be something very odd about that window and that door. The men never seemed to be done looking at them; they went in and came out--came out only to go in again; each time they reappeared they were laughing and talking more glibly. The children sneaked close to the walls whenever the men were inside. . . . It must be some very secret business they were about! Their voices sank so low--most of the time nothing but whispering could be heard. . . . And such a volley of hawking and coughing and clearing of throats came from the interior of the barn, such a smacking of lips, such a steady gurgling--like water running out of a bottle--that the children pressed against the wall outside couldn't help laughing. . . . There, one of them had given a tremendous sneeze! . . . "Hush!" whispered Sofie. "That was Syvert--he must have swallowed wrong!"

. . . Something very strange, indeed, whatever it was. . . . Now they heard Tönseten swear that it was his turn. He had forgotten himself and spoken out loud: "Can't I treat Per Hansa to an honest drink, when he has saved both my wife and my cow from dire death and scalping! . . . Toss it off, Per, old boy, and let the rest of us get a chance!"

Then more jolly laughter and smacking of lips.

"What do you suppose they're doing?" whispered Sofie, making a wry face.

"Drinking, of course!" said Ole, curtly, furious because he was not allowed to be in on this. . . . Surely he was grown-up enough to take a drink or two! He could drive the oxen fully as well as his father.

Then Sörine appeared in the doorway, shouting to them that now they must all come in. In one of the boxes which her husband had brought she had found two bottles. As far as she could make out, it was neither kerosene nor liniment; she felt pretty sure that it wasn't syrup! . . . It would do no harm to find out exactly what the stuff was--to-night they had good reason for rejoicing. She brought a glass, treated both of the neighbour women, took a wee drop herself, and then called in the men.

All five of the menfolk entered in a body and drew up in a close group at the door; at sight of the whisky they had suddenly become bashful and cautious.

"You shouldn't be handing around costly Christmas treats in the middle of the haying season!" said Tönseten, craftily. . . . "What sort of a housekeeper is this that you've got, Hans Olsa?"

"Oh, come on, Syvert!" laughed Sörine.

--What, he? Good gracious! no--he wouldn't have anything! He couldn't stand liquor right after supper, anyway. . . . She ought not to lead a weak brother into temptation!

But he was chuckling, and his four companions were chuckling with him.

Per Hansa pushed Hans Olsa forward.

"Here, Hans Olsa, you are the boss of this house. Show us how the thing ought to be done. . . . Syvert, you see, isn't feeling well, poor devil!"

--Now, it would never do for him to be first--this was Hans Olsa's ruling. Where he had been brought up, that wasn't considered proper.

"If you don't come at once and take this glass," said Sörine with mock severity, "I'll pour it back into the bottle. . . . Then you can stand there wishing for it as much as you please!"

. . . "Hold on, there, Sörrina--not so hasty, not so hasty! Be careful with the blessings of the Lord! . . . Of course I'll sample it for you, if you've got to have it done!" . . . It was Tönseten, after all, who had first spoken and come forward. But it seemed to take him an awful while to swallow that dram; he hawked and grinned over every little sip, and said the liquor burnt his throat so unmercifully that he could hardly get it down. . . . "Tell me, Hans Olsa, where did you find this stuff?"

"Now, heave it in, Syvert, so that the rest of us can have a whack before it gets too cold!" laughed Hans Olsa. "You've got to help me with that window, you know, before you leave to-night."

"Right you are! . . . Yes, right you are!" agreed Tönseten, solemnly, and emptied the glass without more ado.

Sörine treated them all. . . . And now the menfolk were sorry, but they really had no time to stay indoors; Hans Olsa needed all their help to get that window in before it came dark; and out they trooped in a body again, as soon as they had emptied their glasses. When the celebration was over and they finally set out for home that night, it seemed to Kjersti that Syvert walked very queerly. No matter how she adjusted her own steps, he would either range ahead of her or lag behind; when the latter took place, he would suddenly discover it and lurch forward, struggling hard to keep his balance; once he had caught up with her again, he would come to a stop and stand there babbling.

"What in the name of common sense are you mumbling about? What ails you, Syvert dear? . . . You act as if you were walking and talking in your sleep on the open prairie!"

"Hie! . . . Don't know!" he sighed. . . . "Feel aw-right . . . Maybe li'l' queer. . . . Sort o' diz' . . . sort o' dizzy, y' know. . . . Feet don't work proply!" He lurched ahead like a boat scudding down the slope of a wave. . . . "You know, I think . . . abs'lutely I do . . . must be that stuff . . . that damned stuff of Sörrina's!"

"Oh, well," said Kjersti, consolingly, laughing to herself, "if it isn't anything worse than that, you'll soon be all right again."