CHAPTER X
SUNDAY AT THE SAETER
Five summers had passed away since Lisbeth Longfrock first went up onthe mountain; and no one who had not seen her during those years couldhave guessed that she had grown into the tall girl sitting by herselfone Sunday on the stone which, so far back as any herder couldremember, had been called the Pancake Stone, and which lay hidden awayin a distant and lonely part of the mountain. She had grown so tallthat the long frock, now used as a petticoat, came above her knees, andshe no longer wore the birch-bark hat and birch-bark shoes. On thisspecial Sunday her Sunday kerchief was on her head, and she sat with abook in her lap; for in the winter she was to go to the priest to beprepared for confirmation and in the spring she was to be confirmed.The reading did not progress very rapidly. The book had sunk down intoher lap, and her calm blue eyes, now grown so womanly and earnest, wereroving from one to another of the dear familiar places about her. Herflock lay quietly around the stone, chewing the cud. Indian summer wasnear its close. The sky was high vaulted and the air clear and cool. Asfar as the eye could reach all things were sketched in sharpestoutline. Hills and marshes already glowed in autumnal tints, for thesemake their triumphal entry on the mountains earlier than below. The sunshone tranquilly and, as it were, a little coolly also. Everything wasvery still. Not even the sound of a bell was heard, for the animalswere taking their afternoon rest; and no movement was discernibleexcept far, far away, where Lisbeth spied a falcon flapping out fromGlory Peak.
Just as it was now had Lisbeth seen the mountain at the close of eachsummer all these years. It had become familiar and dear to her, and shethought to herself how unchanging it was through all its variableness,while so much else altered never to be the same again. For much hadchanged since she first sat on this same stone and looked out over thissame landscape. Few of the animals she now took care of had belonged toher original flock; the oldest had gone out and new ones had come in.The unlucky Morskol (Mother's Moolley) was now a full-grown cow, withhorns of more than usual beauty. The former milkmaid was gone andanother had taken her place. Ole and Peter, with whom Lisbeth inearlier years had tended her flock almost daily, were her companionsno longer. They had not been up at the saeter since they wereconfirmed,--two years ago. Ole had even sailed to America. Lisbeth hadmissed the boys very much, and had many a time been lonely during thelast two summers, for no new herders had come from the Hoegseth orLunde farms. At home, too, at the Hoel Farm, there had been changesamong the people, and Bearhunter had become blind. Lisbeth herself nolonger occupied her old place by the heap of firewood in the greatkitchen on winter evenings, but sat beside Kjersti on the woodencarving bench; that is, she sat there when she did not have to studyher catechism or learn her hymns to be ready for school the next day.
And now still further changes were in store for her. This was to be thelast summer she would be sitting up here tending her flock. What wouldcome next? Kjersti Hoel had not said anything to her about thefuture,--perhaps Kjersti would not want her any longer. But Lisbeth putthese thoughts aside,--she would not allow her mind to dwell on suchperplexing subjects when all was so delightfully peaceful and beautifularound her. Whatever her lot might be, or wherever she might go, of onething she was certain,--she would never forget these mountain scenesnor this stone which had always been her favorite resting place,especially since she had been so much alone; and she gazed around heragain.
As her eyes wandered about she caught sight of a man far off on themarsh, sauntering along in her direction, stopping once in a while andstooping down, apparently to pluck an occasional cloudberry, for theywere now beginning to ripen. This sent her thoughts into anotherchannel.
Who could it be coming over the marsh? Not a man looking for horses,for no one goes out for that purpose on Sunday; nor a cloudberrypicker, for the berries were not yet ripe enough to pay for the troubleof seeking. Surely it was some one who had made the ascent of themountain for pleasure only. What if it should be Jacob! She had notseen him since the last autumn, and he had said then that he would comeup to see her this summer. Nevertheless the young man did not look likeJacob; and Jacob, not being very well acquainted on the westernmountain, would not be trying to find the Pancake Stone. Yet thisperson was steering his course exactly toward where she sat, and it wasplain that he knew the marsh thoroughly,--where the cloudberries grew,and where it was not so wet but that you could get across. It could notpossibly be----? She blushed the instant she thought of the name, andat the same moment the stranger disappeared behind a hill, so that shesaw no more of him for the time.
Involuntarily she tied her kerchief freshly under her chin, stroked herlight hair under the edge of the kerchief, and smoothed out the foldsin her skirt. Then, sitting with her back half turned to the quarterwhere he might be expected to appear, she took up her book and bent herhead over it as if reading.
Shortly afterward a young man shot up over the hill behind her. He hadon brand-new gray woolen clothes, a "bought" scarf around his neck, andtop-boots outside his trousers. He was not tall, but his figure waswell knit and manly. In his youthful face, on which the merest shadowof down could be distinguished, was set a pair of brown eyes, trustingand trustworthy. He stopped a moment and looked down at the open spacewhere Lisbeth sat upon the stone with the flock of animals around her.It was evident that he had a memory of the scene,--that he had seenthat picture before. Lisbeth did not look up, but she knew he wasthere,--felt in her back, so to speak, that he was standing theregazing at her. He smiled and then swung his course around so as toapproach her from the side, and so that the animals might have time tobecome gently aware of his presence and not scramble up in a flurry.Silently he drew near to her, until at last his shadow fell upon herbook. Then she looked up and their eyes met. At that both of themflushed a little, and he said hastily, "Good day, Lisbeth Longfrock."
"Good day. Why, is it you, Peter, out for a walk?"
They shook hands.
"Yes; I thought it would be pleasant to have a look at the old placesagain; and since Jacob was coming up to visit you, I made up my mind tokeep him company."
"Is Jacob with you?"
"Yes, but he is waiting down at the saeter, for he was tired. We wereout early to-day, and tomorrow we are to take home a pair of nags toHoegseth Farm. He sent you his greeting and will see you this evening."
"Were you sure that you could find me?"
"Oh, yes! I knew just about where you would be in such weather. And, ofcourse, it is more fun for me to ramble around here than for him, Ibeing so familiar with the region."
He sat down beside her on the stone and gazed slowly around.
"Does it look natural here?"
"Yes, everything is unaltered. It seems only yesterday that I was heretaking care of the Lunde flocks. But I hardly recognized _you_ again.You have grown so large."
"Do you think so?"
"Yes. But still it is two years since I last saw you."
There was a short pause. Then Peter continued: "I walked over SlopingMarsh, by our bathing pond. The water has all run out."
"Yes, it has."
"I wondered if it would not be a good plan for me to build the dam upagain, so that you could use the pond."
"No, you need not do that, for I have my bathing place somewhereelse,--a place that no one knows about."
"Oh, have you?"
"Yes; I had it the last year that you and Ole were here, too."
"So it was there you used to be on the days that you kept away fromus?"
"Yes, sometimes."
The animals began to get up and stray off, thus attracting attention.Lisbeth made Peter look at the older goats to see if he recognizedthem, and she was glad to find that he did remember them all. Then shetold him about the new ones; but soon that topic was exhausted andthere was apparently nothing more to talk about. They still remainedseated on the stone. Then Peter said, "You haven't that birch-bark hatany longer, have you, Lisbeth?"
"No; it was worn out long ago."
"But what is it you have on this string?"
He took hold carefully of a string she wore around her neck, and,pulling it, drew out from her bosom the little goat horn he had givenher.
"I did not think you would have that horn still," said Peter.
A deep blush covered Lisbeth's face at the idea of appearing childishto Peter. She hastened to say, "Oh, yes; I carry it with me sometimes."
"I have mine, too. It is the only thing I have left from my herdingdays." And he drew one of Crookhorn's horns out of an inner pocket."Shall we try them?"
Then they both laughed and played "The Old Woman with a Stick"together, as they had so often done in the old days. It did not soundas if either of them had forgotten it in the least. When the tune wasfinished there was another pause. At last Lisbeth said, "I must lookafter the animals a little now, or I shall lose track of them."
"Can't you let them go home alone to-night? It is time for them to seekthe fold, and they will surely find the way safely. Then we can walk tothe saeter more at our leisure."
"Yes, I will gladly. I can trust them to find their way home, I amsure."
Again there was silence for a time. Then Lisbeth rose, saying, "I thinkwe must go now."
Peter did not stir. He merely said very quietly: "Can't you sit alittle longer? There was something I wanted to ask you."
Lisbeth bowed her head and seated herself again without speaking.
"I have a greeting to you from Ole. I received a letter from him afortnight ago. He asked me very particularly to give you hisgreetings."
"Thank you. Is all going well with him?"
"Yes, it seems so from his letter. He has a good place and earns largewages."
"Ole deserves it. He grew to be a fine fellow."
"Yes, he did. He asks me whether I will go to America in the spring. Hewill send me a ticket, if I will."
On hearing that Lisbeth looked up at Peter for an instant, then droopedher head again without saying a word. Peter continued: "It was that Iwanted to ask you about. Do you wish me to go?"
A dead silence ensued, during which Peter sat looking inquiringly ather. For a long time she was motionless; then, suddenly lifting herhead, she fastened her blue eyes upon him and said, "No, I do _not_wish you to go."
* * * * *
There was no more conversation on that subject, and soon they were ontheir way to the saeter. They went around by all the familiar, memorableplaces, including both the bathing pond and Pointing Stump; and allthese places had so many reminders for them of the time when theywatched their flocks together there, that more than once they said howmuch they pitied Ole, who would perhaps never be able to come to Norwayagain. The sky arched high and clear above them, the mountain stretchedbeyond them with its unending, silent wastes; and Lisbeth and Peterfelt strangely buoyant and glad. Although they had made no agreement,they felt as if they had a hidden bond between them--as if they two hada wonderful secret that no one, not even Jacob, could share.
CHAPTER XI
LISBETH APPOINTED HEAD MILKMAID
It was the first Sunday after Easter, early in the morning. Lisbeth satby the small table in her little sleeping room, with one elbow leaningon the table and her hand under her chin, while she stared down at abig black book which lay open before her. The book was the NewTestament, and Lisbeth's lips moved softly as she read. That morning,for the first time in several years, she had not gone into the cowhouse. Kjersti Hoel had said that she was to have a couple of hours inwhich she could be alone. No one was to disturb her.
She sat there somewhat stiff and helpless, in a long black dress with astrip of white in the neck. The dress seemed to her rather tight, sotight that she held her elbows close to her side and hardly dared tobend her back. It was the first time she had had a close-fitting dresson,--her usual costume being a jacket and skirt. Her light hair wasdrawn smoothly back and twisted into a knot at her neck. That was forthe first time, too. She was a trifle paler than usual, and her lips,as she moved them, were dark red and dewy; but her eyes shone withpeace. All in all, she was beautiful, as she sat there in her littleroom waiting for church time to come. This was the day that she was tobe confirmed.
A knock was heard at the door, and in stepped Kjersti Hoel. She alsowas dressed in her very best,--an old-fashioned black dress with agathered waist, and a freshly ironed cap with a frill around the faceand strings hanging down. In her hand she carried the big psalm book, ahandsome one printed in large type, which she used only on the greatestoccasions. On top of the psalm book lay a neatly folded pockethandkerchief.
Standing still for a moment and looking earnestly at Lisbeth, Kjerstisaid, "Do you think you are ready now, Lisbeth?"
Lisbeth answered quietly, "Yes, I think so."
"Then it is time for us to start. Come, let me tie your kerchief, sothat your hair will not get untidy."
She tied the kerchief on Lisbeth's head and then they went slowly outthrough the hall way. Outside, at the door, stood the broad wagon withthe military horse harnessed to it.
"You may come and sit up here by me, Lisbeth," said Kjersti.
So they both got into the wagon and drove off. Not a word was spokenthe whole way. As they drove down the hill from the farm and out on themain road, they were encompassed by all the effervescence of thespring,--its myriads of sights, sounds, and odors. The brooks andrivers rushed tunefully along, birds by the thousands were singing andcalling, insects were buzzing, trees and plants of many sorts werepouring their fragrance over the whole valley; and above it all stoodthe sun, shedding down its glittering light. But these things failed toarouse in Lisbeth the feelings they usually awakened. They had,instead, the effect of a roar and a disturbance, of somethinginharmonious that caused her to quiver with discomfort. Involuntarilyshe drew nearer to Kjersti on the wagon seat. She felt a longing forone thing only,--silence. Thus they drove for a while along the sunlitvalley road.
Then suddenly a broad wave of sound came rolling toward them. Thechurch bells were adding their tones--broad, peaceful, sure--to thegeneral chorus. They did not drown the sounds of the spring, but tookthem up, as it were, and ordered them, harmonized them, used them as agentle accompaniment; so that the whole seemed like a great psalmsinging and organ playing.
At the sound of the bells there came to Lisbeth a feeling of peace,solemnity, and holiness, such as she had never known before. She feltlifted up. A change came over the world about her: everything becamelighter, loftier, as if prepared for a sacred festival. She felt amighty gladness within her.
From that time on she had but a confused consciousness of what tookplace. On arriving at the church she thought that the gathering ofpeople around it had never been so large or so reverent in demeanor,and that the church had never looked so tall and shining.
As she went inside and walked up the church aisle she felt very erectand free. The same wonderful light was within the church, too. And whenshe looked down the lines of those who were to be confirmed with her,as they stood with bowed heads on each side of the middle aisle, shethought that their faces were strangely radiant.
When the priest came into the chancel it seemed to her that he was muchlarger than ever before, and that his face was, oh, so mild! He beganto speak; and though she did not really hear or understand what hesaid, she felt that it was something great and good, and it thrilledher like music.
As soon as the psalm singing began she joined in with a stronger voicethan usual, her breast swelling involuntarily. When it came her turn tobe questioned she hardly knew whether she had heard what the priestasked or not, but she was sure, nevertheless, that her answer, whichcame forth clear and firm, was the right one. And when she knelt downand gave the priest her hand, as the ceremony required, it seemed toher that the awkward figures in the old altar pictures smiledbenignantly upon her.
She did not come wholly to herself until the confirmation ceremony wasentirely over and she had gone to her seat beside Kjersti Hoel in oneof the church pew
s.
As Lisbeth drew near, Kjersti took her hand and said half aloud, "Mayit bring you happiness and blessing, Lisbeth!"
Lisbeth stood a moment, looked up at Kjersti as if just awakening,smiled, and whispered softly, "Thanks, Kjersti Hoel."
Then, when the service was over, they walked out of church.
Outside the church door stood Jacob and Peter. They lifted their capsto Kjersti and shook hands with her. Afterward they shook hands withLisbeth, lifting their caps to her, too, which had not been theircustom before her confirmation. They also said to her, "May it bringyou happiness and blessing!"
After that Kjersti and Lisbeth walked about the grassy space in frontof the church. They made slow progress, because there were so manypeople who wanted to greet the mistress of Hoel and to ask what girl itwas that she had presented for confirmation on that day. At last theyreached the broad wagon, to which the horse had already been harnessed,and, mounting into it, they set forth on their homeward way, returningin silence, as they had come. Not until they had reached home didKjersti say, "You would like to be alone awhile this afternoon, too?"
"Yes, thank you," responded Lisbeth.
* * * * *
In the afternoon Lisbeth Longfrock again sat alone in the little roomin the hall way. Bearhunter, who had now become blind, lay outside herdoor. Whenever he was not in the kitchen, where, as a rule, he kept tohis own corner, he lay at Lisbeth's door, having chosen this place inpreference to his old one on the flat stone in front of the house. Tolie on the doorstep where so many went out and in--and nowadays theywent so rudely--was too exciting for him; but Lisbeth always steppedconsiderately.
As Lisbeth sat there in her room she was not reading in any book; infact, she was doing nothing at all. Spread out on the bed before herlay her long frock, which she had not used that winter. It looked verysmall and worn.
When she had come into her room, where the afternoon sun fell slantwiseupon the coverlet of her bed, picturing there the small window frame,she had had a wonderful feeling of peace and contentment. It seemed toher that there was not the least need of thinking about serious thingsor of reading, either. She felt that the simplest and most naturalthing to do was merely to busy herself happily, without putting herthoughts on anything in particular. She had no earthly possessions ofvalue, but she did have a small chest which she had received in thesecond year of her stay at Hoel, and in this chest there was a tinyside box and also a space in the lid where she had stored away thelittle she owned that seemed worth keeping. She had pulled the chestforward and opened it. To take the things out, look at each one, andrecall the memories connected with them was very pleasant.
There was a good-for-nothing old pocketknife that had been given to herby Ole the first summer on the mountain. There was a letter from Ole,too, that she had received the last autumn, and that no one knew about.In it he had asked if he might send her and Jacob tickets to Americaafter she had been confirmed. She had not answered the letter yet, butshe would do it soon now, and thank him, and say that she was notcoming,--for she knew that she could never leave Norway.
And then she took out the goat horn that Peter had given her. She wasseized with a strong desire to play on it, but did not dare to, becauseit would sound so strange in the house. Next to the place where thegoat horn had lain was a silk neckerchief that Peter had given her forChristmas. He had sent it by Jacob. She herself had not seen or spokenwith Peter since that Sunday last year when he had found her on themountain, until to-day at the church.
And there was the letter she had received from Jacob in regard to theirmeeting at Peerout Castle. It was the only letter she had ever had fromhim,--Jacob was not one to write much; but she had a few small giftsthat he had sent her.
Down at the very bottom of the chest lay a kerchief that she had nevertaken out before,--her mother's kerchief. It seemed to Lisbeth that nowwas the first time she had really dared to think about her mother. Shetook out the kerchief and spread it on the bed; and when, as she didso, her eye caught sight of her old long frock hanging on the wall, shespread that, too, on the bed. Then she seated herself and gazed uponthese simple objects. The time had arrived when it was possible for herto look back without becoming hopelessly sorrowful; when she couldponder over the rich memories which these poor relics hid,--thememories from Peerout Castle not being the least precious. She satnourishing these thoughts a long time, beginning at the beginning, asfar back as she could remember, and going forward to this very Sunday.The memories came easily and in regular succession, and all of themwere good memories. Everything that had seemed hard at the time eitherhad been forgotten or was seen now in a softer light.
Suddenly there came a knock at the door; and before Lisbeth had hadtime to conceal the things, or presence of mind enough to rise from herchair, in walked Kjersti Hoel.
Lisbeth saw that Kjersti noticed the things at once, but she was not inthe least embarrassed, for Kjersti only smiled kindly and said: "I seethat you are thinking about your mother to-day, Lisbeth, and that isright; but now come with me into my room. There is something I wish totalk with you about."
Lisbeth was half alarmed at this, for never before had Kjersti spokenso seriously to her; but she rose quietly and did as she was bidden.
Kjersti went ahead, through the kitchen and across to the door of herown room, Lisbeth following close behind her. The others in the kitchenlooked at them curiously, wondering what was going to happen.
Once in her room, Kjersti took a seat beside the table and askedLisbeth to sit at the opposite side. Then said Kjersti: "You are nowgrown up, Lisbeth Longfrock, and hereafter you will be free to decidethings for yourself. I have kept the last promise I made to yourmother, and I can to-day say that it has been only a pleasure for me todo so. You have turned out well, as may be expected of every good girl;if you do as well in the future, I really believe that your motherwould be satisfied with both you and me. But from to-day I have nolonger any right to decide things for you. You must decide for yourselfwhat you will do and what you think is right. I will therefore askyou--and you are to choose with entire freedom--whether you wish tostay here with me any longer, or whether, now that you are to earn yourown living, you would rather try something else. I can add that Ishould like very much to have you stay here."
For a while there was a deep silence. Then Lisbeth looked up with bigtears in her eyes and said, "I should like to stay with you, KjerstiHoel, as long as you are pleased with me."
"That is what I thought, and therefore I have also thought of anotherthing. Of course you are very young yet, but it is not always unwise toput responsibility on young shoulders. You have shown yourself sofaithful and capable, not only at the cow house but at the saeter aswell, that I have no fear in intrusting both to your care. If you wishit to be so, I will now appoint you head milkmaid at Hoel Farm."
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