首页 >出版文学> THE TROLL GARDEN AND SELECTED STORIES>第1章
  Astotheshantyitself,Canutehadbuiltitwithoutaidofanykind,forwhenhefirstsquattedalongthebanksofRattlesnakeCreektherewasnotahumanbeingwithintwentymiles。Itwasbuiltoflogssplitinhalves,thechinksstoppedwithmudandplaster。Theroofwascoveredwithearthandwassupportedbyonegiganticbeamcurvedintheshapeofaroundarch。Itwasalmostimpossiblethatanytreehadevergrowninthatshape。TheNorwegiansusedtosaythatCanutehadtakenthelogacrosshiskneeandbentitintotheshapehewished。Thereweretworooms,orrathertherewasoneroomwithapartitionmadeofashsaplingsinterwovenandboundtogetherlikebigstrawbasketwork。Inonecornertherewasacookstove,rustedandbroken。Intheotherabedmadeofunplanedplanksandpoles。itwasfullyeightfeetlong,anduponitwasaheapofdarkbedclothing。Therewasachairandabenchofcolossalproportions。
  Therewasanordinarykitchencupboardwithafewcrackeddirtydishesinit,andbesideitonatallboxatinwashbasin。Underthebedwasapileofpintflasks,somebroken,somewhole,allempty。Onthewoodboxlayapairofshoesofalmostincredibledimensions。Onthewallhungasaddle,agun,andsomeraggedclothing,conspicuousamongwhichwasasuitofdarkcloth,apparentlynew,withapapercollarcarefullywrappedinaredsilkhandkerchiefandpinnedtothesleeve。Overthedoorhungawolfandabadgerskin,andonthedooritselfabraceofthirtyorfortysnakeskinswhosenoisytailsrattledominouslyeverytimeitopened。Thestrangestthingsintheshantywerethewidewindowsills。Atfirstglancetheylookedasthoughtheyhadbeenruthlesslyhackedandmutilatedwithahatchet,butoncloserinspectionallthenotchesandholesinthewoodtookformandshape。Thereseemedtobeaseriesofpictures。Theywere,inaroughway,artistic,butthefigureswereheavyandlabored,asthoughtheyhadbeencutveryslowlyandwithveryawkwardinstruments。Thereweremenplowingwithlittlehornedimpssittingontheirshouldersandontheirhorses’heads。Thereweremenprayingwithaskullhangingovertheirheadsandlittledemonsbehindthemmockingtheirattitudes。Thereweremenfightingwithbigserpents,andskeletonsdancingtogether。Allaboutthesepictureswerebloomingvinesandfoliagesuchasnevergrewinthisworld,andcoiledamongthebranchesofthevinestherewasalwaysthescalybodyofaserpent,andbehindeveryflowertherewasaserpent’shead。ItwasaveritableDanceofDeathbyonewhohadfeltitssting。Inthewoodboxlaysomeboards,andeveryinchofthemwascutupinthesamemanner。Sometimestheworkwasveryrudeandcareless,andlookedasthoughthehandoftheworkmanhadtrembled。Itwouldsometimeshavebeenhardtodistinguishthemenfromtheirevilgeniusesbutforonefact,themenwerealwaysgraveandwereeithertoilingorpraying,whilethedevilswerealwayssmilinganddancing。Severaloftheseboardshadbeensplitforkindlinganditwasevidentthattheartistdidnotvaluehisworkhighly。
  ItwasthefirstdayofwinterontheDivide。Canutestumbledintohisshantycarryingabasketof。cobs,andafterfillingthestove,satdownonastoolandcrouchedhissevenfootframeoverthefire,staringdrearilyoutofthewindowatthewidegraysky。Heknewbyhearteveryindividualclumpofbunchgrassinthemilesofredshaggyprairiethatstretchedbeforehiscabin。Heknewitinallthedeceitfullovelinessofitsearlysummer,inallthebitterbarrennessofitsautumn。HehadseenitsmittenbyalltheplaguesofEgypt。Hehadseenitparchedbydrought,andsoggedbyrain,beatenbyhail,andsweptbyfire,andinthegrasshopperyearshehadseeniteatenasbareandcleanasbonesthatthevultureshaveleft。Afterthegreatfireshehadseenitstretchformilesandmiles,blackandsmokingasthefloorofhell。
  Heroseslowlyandcrossedtheroom,dragginghisbigfeetheavilyasthoughtheywereburdenstohim。Helookedoutofthewindowintothehogcorralandsawthepigsburyingthemselvesinthestrawbeforetheshed。Theleadengraycloudswerebeginningtospillthemselves,andthesnowflakesweresettlingdownoverthewhiteleprouspatchesoffrozenearthwherethehogshadgnawedeventhesodaway。Heshudderedandbegantowalk,tramplingheavilywithhisungainlyfeet。HewasthewreckoftenwintersontheDivideandheknewwhatthatmeant。MenfearthewintersoftheDivideasachildfearsnightorasmenintheNorthSeasfearthestilldarkcoldofthepolartwilight。Hiseyesfelluponhisgun,andhetookitdownfromthewallandlookeditover。Hesatdownontheedgeofhisbedandheldthebarreltowardshisface,lettinghisforeheadrestuponit,andlaidhisfingeronthetrigger。Hewasperfectlycalm,therewasneitherpassionnordespairinhisface,butthethoughtfullookofamanwhoisconsidering。Presentlyhelaiddownthegun,andreachingintothecupboard,drewoutapintbottleofrawwhitealcohol。Liftingittohislips,hedrankgreedily。Hewashedhisfaceinthetinbasinandcombedhisroughhairandshaggyblondbeard。Thenhestoodinuncertaintybeforethesuitofdarkclothesthathungonthewall。Forthefiftiethtimehetooktheminhishandsandtriedtosummoncouragetoputthemon。Hetookthepapercollarthatwaspinnedtothesleeveofthecoatandcautiouslyslippeditunderhisroughbeard,lookingwithtimidexpectancyintothecracked,splashedglassthathungoverthebench。Withashortlaughhethrewitdownonthebed,andpullingonhisoldblackhat,hewentout,strikingoffacrossthelevel。
  Itwasaphysicalnecessityforhimtogetawayfromhiscabinonceinawhile。Hehadbeentherefortenyears,diggingandplowingandsowing,andreapingwhatlittlethehailandthehotwindsandthefrostslefthimtoreap。InsanityandsuicideareverycommonthingsontheDivide。Theycomeonlikeanepidemicinthehotwindseason。ThosescorchingdustywindsthatblowupoverthebluffsfromKansasseemtodryupthebloodinmen’sveinsastheydothesapinthecornleaves。Whenevertheyellowscorchcreepsdownoverthetenderinsideleavesabouttheear,thenthecoronersprepareforactiveduty;fortheoilofthecountryisburnedoutanditdoesnottakelongfortheflametoeatupthewick。ItcausesnogreatsensationtherewhenaDaneisfoundswingingtohisownwindmilltower,andmostofthePolesaftertheyhavebecometoocarelessanddiscouragedtoshavethemselveskeeptheirrazorstocuttheirthroatswith。
  ItmaybethatthenextgenerationontheDividewillbeveryhappy,butthepresentonecametoolateinlife。ItisuselessformenthathavecuthemlocksamongthemountainsofSwedenforfortyyearstotrytobehappyinacountryasflatandgrayandnakedasthesea。ItisnoteasyformenthathavespenttheiryouthfishingintheNorthernseastobecontentwithfollowingaplow,andmenthathaveservedintheAustrianarmyhatehardworkandcoarseclothingonthelonelinessoftheplains,andlongformarchesandexcitementandtaverncompanyandprettybarmaids。
  Afteramanhaspassedhisfortiethbirthdayitisnoteasyforhimtochangethehabitsandconditionsofhislife。MostmenbringwiththemtotheDivideonlythedregsofthelivesthattheyhavesquanderedinotherlandsandamongotherpeoples。
  CanuteCanutesonwasasmadasanyofthem,buthismadnessdidnottaketheformofsuicideorreligionbutofalcohol。Hehadalwaystakenliquorwhenhewantedit,asallNorwegiansdo,butafterhisfirstyearofsolitarylifehesettleddowntoitsteadily。Heexhaustedwhiskyafterawhile,andwenttoalcohol,becauseitseffectswerespeedierandsurer。Hewasabigmanandwithaterribleamountofresistantforce,andittookagreatdealofalcoholeventomovehim。Afternineyearsofdrinking,thequantitieshecouldtakewouldseemfabuloustoanordinarydrinkingman。Heneverletitinterferewithhiswork,hegenerallydrankatnightandonSundays。Everynight,assoonashischoresweredone,hebegantodrink。Whilehewasabletosituphewouldplayonhismouthharporhackawayathiswindowsillswithhisjackknife。Whentheliquorwenttohisheadhewouldliedownonhisbedandstareoutofthewindowuntilhewenttosleep。
  Hedrankaloneandinsolitudenotforpleasureorgoodcheer,buttoforgettheawfullonelinessandleveloftheDivide。Miltonmadeasadblunderwhenheputmountainsinhell。Mountainspostulatefaithandaspiration。Allmountainpeoplesarereligious。Itwasthecitiesoftheplainsthat,becauseoftheirutterlackofspiritualityandthemadcapriceoftheirvice,werecursedofGod。
  Alcoholisperfectlyconsistentinitseffectsuponman。
  Drunkennessismerelyanexaggeration。Afoolishmandrunkbecomesmaudlin;abloodyman,vicious;acoarseman,vulgar。Canutewasnoneofthese,buthewasmoroseandgloomy,andliquortookhimthroughallthehellsofDante。Ashelayonhisgiant’sbedallthehorrorsofthisworldandeveryotherwerelaidbaretohischilledsenses。Hewasamanwhoknewnojoy,amanwhotoiledinsilenceandbitterness。Theskullandtheserpentwerealwaysbeforehim,thesymbolsofeternalfutilenessandofeternalhate。
  WhenthefirstNorwegiansnearenoughtobecalledneighborscame,Canuterejoiced,andplannedtoescapefromhisbosomvice。
  Buthewasnotasocialmanbynatureandhadnotthepowerofdrawingoutthesocialsideofotherpeople。Hisnewneighborsratherfearedhimbecauseofhisgreatstrengthandsize,hissilenceandhisloweringbrows。Perhaps,too,theyknewthathewasmad,madfromtheeternaltreacheryoftheplains,whicheveryspringstretchgreenandrustlewiththepromisesofEden,showinglonggrassylagoonsfullofclearwaterandcattlewhosehoofsarestainedwithwildroses。Beforeautumnthelagoonsaredriedup,andthegroundisburntdryandharduntilitblistersandcracksopen。
  Soinsteadofbecomingafriendandneighbortothementhatsettledabouthim,Canutebecameamysteryandaterror。Theytoldawfulstoriesofhissizeandstrengthandofthealcoholhedrank。
  Theysaidthatonenight,whenhewentouttoseetohishorsesjustbeforehewenttobed,hisstepswereunsteadyandtherottenplanksofthefloorgavewayandthrewhimbehindthefeetofafieryyoungstallion。Hisfootwascaughtfastinthefloor,andthenervoushorsebegankickingfrantically。WhenCanutefeltthebloodtricklingdownintohiseyesfromascalpwoundinhishead,herousedhimselffromhiskinglyindifference,andwiththequietstoicalcourageofadrunkenmanleanedforwardandwoundhisarmsaboutthehorse’shindlegsandheldthemagainsthisbreastwithcrushingembrace。Allthroughthedarknessandcoldofthenighthelaythere,matchingstrengthagainststrength。WhenlittleJimPetersonwentoverthenextmorningatfouro’clocktogowithhimtotheBluetocutwood,hefoundhimso,andthehorsewasonitsforeknees,tremblingandwhinnyingwithfear。ThisisthestorytheNorwegianstellofhim,andifitistrueitisnowonderthattheyfearedandhatedthisHolderoftheHeelsofHorses。
  Onespringtheremovedtothenext“eighty“afamilythatmadeagreatchangeinCanute’slife。OleYensenwastoodrunkmostofthetimetobeafraidofanyone,andhiswifeMarywastoogarruloustobeafraidofanyonewholistenedtohertalk,andLena,theirprettydaughter,wasnotafraidofmannordevil。SoitcameaboutthatCanutewentovertotakehisalcoholwithOleoftenerthanhetookitalone,AfterawhilethereportspreadthathewasgoingtomarryYensen’sdaughter,andtheNorwegiangirlsbegantoteaseLenaaboutthegreatbearshewasgoingtokeephousefor。Noonecouldquiteseehowtheaffairhadcomeabout,forCanute’stacticsofcourtshipweresomewhatpeculiar。Heapparentlyneverspoketoheratall:hewouldsitforhourswithMarychatteringononesideofhimandOledrinkingontheotherandwatchLenaatherwork。Sheteasedhim,andthrewflourinhisfaceandputvinegarinhiscoffee,buthetookherroughjokeswithsilentwonder,neverevensmiling。Hetookhertochurchoccasionally,butthemostwatchfulandcuriouspeopleneversawhimspeaktoher。Hewouldsitstaringatherwhileshegiggledandflirtedwiththeothermen。
  NextspringMaryLeewenttotowntoworkinasteamlaundry。
  ShecamehomeeverySunday,andalwaysranacrosstoYensenstostartleLenawithstoriesoftencenttheaters,firemen’sdances,andalltheotherestheticdelightsofmetropolitanlife。InafewweeksLena’sheadwascompletelyturned,andshegaveherfathernorestuntilhelethergototowntoseekherfortuneattheironingboard。FromthetimeshecamehomeonherfirstvisitshebegantotreatCanutewithcontempt。Shehadboughtaplushcloakandkidgloves,hadherclothesmadebythedressmaker,andassumedairsandgracesthatmadetheotherwomenoftheneighborhoodcordiallydetesther。Shegenerallybroughtwithherayoungmanfromtownwhowaxedhismustacheandworearednecktie,andshedidnotevenintroducehimtoCanute。