The schoolmaster had meanwhile come forward from his corner by the stove and had sat down beside me at the long table.
"Come on! Tell the story, schoolmaster," cried some of the younger members of the party.
"Yes, indeed," said the old man, turning toward me. "I will gladly oblige you; but there is a good deal of superst.i.tion mixed in with it, and it is quite a feat to tell the story without it."
"I must beg you not to leave the superst.i.tion out," I replied. "You can trust me to sift the chaff from the wheat by myself!"
The old man looked at me with an appreciative smile.
Well, he said, in the middle of the last century, or rather, to be more exact, before and after the middle of that century, there was a dikemaster here who knew more about dikes and sluices than peasants and landowners usually do. But I suppose it was nevertheless not quite enough, for he had read little of what learned specialists had written about it; his knowledge, though he began in childhood, he had thought out all by himself. I dare say you have heard, sir, that the Frisians are good at arithmetic, and perhaps you have heard tell of our Hans Mommsen from Fahntoft, who was a peasant and yet could make chronometers, telescopes, and organs. Well, the father of this man who later became dikemaster was made out of this same stuff--to be sure, only a little. He had a few fens, where he planted turnips and beans and kept a cow grazing; once in a while in the fall and spring he also surveyed land, and in winter, when the northwest wind blew outside and shook his shutters, he sat in his room to scratch and p.r.i.c.k with his instruments. The boy usually would sit by and look away from his primer or Bible to watch his father measure and calculate, and would thrust his hand into his blond hair. And one evening he asked the old man why something that he had written down had to be just so and could not be something different, and stated his own opinion about it. But his father, who did not know how to answer this, shook his head and said:
"That I cannot tell you; anyway it is so, and you are mistaken. If you want to know more, search for a book tomorrow in a box in our attic; someone whose name is Euclid has written it; that will tell you."
The next day the boy had run up to the attic and soon had found the book, for there were not many books in the house anyway, but his father laughed when he laid it in front of him on the table. It was a Dutch Euclid, and Dutch, although it was half German, neither of them understood.
"Yes, yes," he said, "this book belonged to my father; he understood it; is there no German Euclid up there?"
The boy, who spoke little, looked at his father quietly and said only: "May I keep it? There isn"t any German one."
And when the old man nodded, he showed him a second half-torn little book.
"That too?" he asked again.
"Take them both!" said Tede Haien; "they won"t be of much use to you."
But the second book was a little Dutch grammar, and as the winter was not over for a long while, by the time the gooseberries bloomed again in the garden it had helped the boy so far that he could almost entirely understand his Euclid, which at that time was much in vogue.
I know perfectly well, sir, the story teller interrupted himself, that this same incident is also told of Hans Mommsen, but before his birth our people here have told the same of Hauke Haien--that was the name of the boy. You know well enough that as soon as a greater man has come, everything is heaped on him that his predecessor has done before him, either seriously or in fun.
When the old man saw that the boy had no sense for cows or sheep and scarcely noticed when the beans were in bloom, which is the joy of every marshman, and when he considered that his little place might be kept up by a farmer and a boy, but not by a half-scholar and a hired man, inasmuch as he himself had not been over-prosperous, he sent his big boy to the dike, where he had to cart earth from Easter until Martinmas. "That will cure him of his Euclid," he said to himself.
And the boy carted; but his Euclid he always had with him in his pocket, and when the workmen ate their breakfast or lunch, he sat on his upturned wheelbarrow with the book in his hand. In autumn, when the tide rose higher and sometimes work had to be stopped, he did not go home with the others, but stayed and sat with his hands clasped over his knees on the seaward slope of the dike, and for hours watched the sombre waves of the North Sea beat always higher and higher against the gra.s.s-grown scar of the dike. Not until the water washed over his feet and the foam sprayed his face did he move a few feet higher, only to stay and sit on. He did not hear the splash of the water, or the scream of the gulls or strand birds that flew round him and almost grazed him with their wings, flashing their black eyes at his own; nor did he see how night spread over the wide wilderness of water. The only thing he saw was the edge of the surf, which at high tide was again and again hitting the same place with hard blows and before his very eyes washing away the gra.s.sy scar of the steep dike.
After staring a long time, he would nod his head slowly and, without looking up, draw a curved line in the air, as if he could in this way give the dike a gentler slope. When it grew so dark that all earthly things vanished from his sight and only the surf roared in his ears, then he got up and marched home half drenched.
One night when he came in this state into the room where his father was polishing his surveying instruments, the latter started. "What have you been doing out there?" he cried, "You might have drowned; the waters are biting into the dike to-day."
Hauke looked at him stubbornly.
"Don"t you hear me? I say, you might have drowned!"
"Yes," said Hauke, "but I"m not drowned!"
"No," the old man answered after a while and looked into his face absently--"not this time."
"But," Hauke returned, "our dikes aren"t worth anything."
"What"s that, boy?"
"The dikes, I say."
"What about the dikes?"
"They"re no good, father," replied Hauke.
The old man laughed in his face. "What"s the matter with you, boy? I suppose you are the prodigy from Lubeck."
But the boy would not be put down. "The waterside is too steep," he said; "if it happens some day as it has happened before, we can drown here behind the dike too."
The old man pulled his tobacco out of his pocket, twisted off a piece and pushed it behind his teeth. "And how many loads have you pushed to-day?" he asked angrily, for he saw that the boy"s work on the dike had not been able to chase away his brainwork.
"I don"t know, father," said the boy; "about as many as the others did, or perhaps half a dozen more; but--the dikes have got to be changed!"
"Well," said the old man with a short laugh, "perhaps you can manage to be made dikemaster; then you can change them."
"Yes, father," replied the boy.
The old man looked at him and swallowed a few times, then he walked out of the door. He did not know what to say to the boy.
Even when, at the end of October, the work on the dike was over, his walk northward to the farm was the best entertainment for Hauke Haien.
He looked forward to All Saints" Day, the time when the equinoctial storms were wont to rage--a day on which we say that Friesland has a good right to mourn--just as children nowadays look forward to Christmas. When an early flood was coming, one could be sure that in spite of storm and bad weather, he would be lying all alone far out on the dike; and when the gulls chattered, when the waters pounded against the dike and as they rolled back swept big pieces of the gra.s.s cover with them into the sea, then one could have heard Hauke"s furious laughter.
"You aren"t good for anything!" he cried out into the noise. "Just as the people are no good!" And at last, often in darkness, he trotted home from the wide water along the dike, until his tall figure had reached the low door under his father"s thatch roof and slipped into the little room.
Sometimes he had brought home a handful of clay; then he sat down beside the old man, who now humoured him, and by the light of the thin tallow candle he kneaded all sorts of dike models, laid them in a flat dish with water and tried to imitate the washing away by the waves; or he took his slate and drew the profiles of the dikes toward the waterside as he thought they ought to be.
He had no idea of keeping up intercourse with his schoolmates; it seemed, too, as if they did not care for this dreamer. When winter had come again and the frost had appeared, he wandered still farther out on the dike to points he had never reached before, until the boundless ice-covered sand flats lay before him.
During the continuous frost in February, dead bodies were found washed ash.o.r.e; they had lain on the frozen sand flats by the open sea. A young woman who had been present when they had taken the bodies into the village, stood talking fluently with old Haien.
"Don"t you believe that they looked like people!" she cried; "no, like sea devils! Heads as big as this," and she touched together the tips of her outspread and outstretched hands, "coal-black and shiny, like newly baked bread! And the crabs had nibbled them, and the children screamed when they saw them." For old Haien this was nothing new.
"I suppose they have floated in the water since November!" he said indifferently.
Hauke stood by in silence, but as soon as he could, he sneaked out on the dike; n.o.body knew whether he wanted to look for more dead, or if he was drawn to the places now deserted by the horror that still clung to them. He ran on and on, until he stood alone in the solitary waste, where only the winds blew over the dike where there was nothing but the wailing voices of the great birds that shot by swiftly. To his left was the wide empty marshland, on the other side the endless beach with its sand flats now glistening with ice; it seemed as if the whole world lay in a white death.
Hauke remained standing on the dike, and his sharp eyes gazed far away.
There was no sign of the dead; but when the invisible streams on the sand flats found their way beneath the ice, it rose and sank in streamlike lines.
He ran home, but on one of the next nights he was out there again. In places the ice had now split; smoke-clouds seemed to rise out of the cracks, and over the whole sand-stretch a net of steam and mist seemed to be spun, which at evening mingled strangely with the twilight. Hauke stared at it with fixed eyes, for in the mist dark figures were walking up and down that seemed to him as big as human beings. Far off he saw them promenade back and forth by the steaming fissures, dignified, but with strange, frightening gestures, with long necks and noses. All at once, they began to jump up and down like fools, uncannily, the big ones over the little ones, the little ones over the big ones--then they spread out and lost all shape.
"What do they want? Are they ghosts of the drowned?" thought Hauke.
"Hallo!" he screamed out aloud into the night; but they did not heed his cry and kept on with their strange antics.
Then the terrible Norwegian sea spectres came to his mind, that an old captain had once told him about, who bore stubby bunches of sea gra.s.s on their necks instead of heads. He did not run away, however, but dug the heels of his boots faster into the clay of the dike and rigidly watched the farcical riot that was kept up before his eyes in the falling dusk. "Are you here in our parts too?" he said in a hard voice.
"You shall not chase _me_ away!"
Not until darkness covered all things did he walk home with stiff, slow steps. But behind him he seemed to hear the rustling of wings and resounding screams. He did not look round, neither did he walk faster, and it was late when he came home. Yet he is said to have told neither his father nor anyone else about it. But many years after he took his feeble-minded little girl, with whom the Lord later had burdened him, out on the dike with him at the same time of day and year, and the same riot is said to have appeared then out on the sand flats. But he told her not to be afraid, that these things were only the herons and crows, that seemed so big and horrible, and that they were getting fish out of the open cracks.