第 37 节
作者:卡车      更新:2021-02-19 00:08      字数:9321
  The    Wolf    is  gone。    The   last  relic   of  him   was    lost  in  the   burning
  Grammar School; but to this day the sexton of St。 Boniface Church avers
  that the tolling bell on Christmas Eve never fails to provoke that weird and
  melancholy Wolf…cry  from  the   wooded   graveyard   a   hundred   steps   away;
  where they laid his Little Jim; the only being on earth that ever met him
  with the touch of love。
  THE LEGEND OF THE WHITE REINDEER
  Skoal! Skoal! For Norway Skoal! Sing ye the song of the Vand…dam
  troll。 When I am hiding Norway's luck On a White Storbuk Comes riding;
  riding。
  Bleak;   black;   deep;   and   cold   is   Utrovand;   a   long   pocket   of   glacial
  water; a crack in the globe; a wrinkle in the high Norwegian mountains;
  blocked   with   another   mountain;   and   flooded   with   a   frigid   flood;   three
  thousand feet above its Mother Sea; and yet no closer to its Father Sun。
  Around its cheerless shore is a belt of stunted trees; that sends a long
  tail up the high valley; till it dwindles away to sticks and moss; as it also
  does     some     half…way     up   the   granite    hills  that   rise  a   thousand     feet;
  encompassing the lake。 This is the limit of trees; the end of the growth of
  wood。 The birch and willow are the last to drop out of the long fight with
  frost。 Their miniature thickets are noisy with the cries of Fieldfare; Pipit;
  and   Ptarmigan;   but   these   are   left   behind   on   nearing   the   upper   plateau;
  where shade of rock and sough of wind are all that take their place。 The
  chilly   Hoifjeld   rolls   away;   a   rugged;   rocky   plain;   with   great   patches   of
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  snow in all the deeper hollows; and the distance blocked by snowy peaks
  that   rise   and   roll   and   whiter   gleam;   till;   dim   and   dazzling   in   the   north;
  uplifts the Jotunheim; the  home of spirits; of glaciers; and of the  lasting
  snow。
  The treeless stretch is one vast attest to the force of heat。 Each failure
  of the sun by one degree is marked by a lower realm of life。 The northern
  slope   of   each   hollow   is   less   boreal   than   its   southern   side。 The   pine   and
  spruce have given out long ago; the mountain…ash went next; the birch and
  willow climbed up half the slope。 Here; nothing grows but creeping plants
  and   moss。   The   plain   itself   is   pale   grayish   green;   one   vast   expanse   of
  reindeer…moss;        but    warmed      at   spots    into   orange     by   great    beds    of
  polytrichum; and; in sunnier nooks; deepened to a herbal green。 The rocks
  that are scattered everywhere are of a delicate lilac; but each is variegated
  with spreading frill…edged plasters of gray…green lichen or orange powder…
  streaks and beauty…spots of black。 These rocks have great power to hold
  the heat; so that each of them is surrounded by a little belt of heat…loving
  plants that could not otherwise live so high。 Dwarfed representatives of the
  birch and willow both are here; hugging the genial rock; as an old French
  habitant   hugs   his   stove   in   winter…time;   spreading   their   branches   over   it;
  instead of in the frigid air。 A foot away is seen a chillier belt of heath; and
  farther   off;   colder;   where   none   else   can   grow;   is   the   omnipresent   gray…
  green reindeer…moss that gives its color to the upland。 The hollows are still
  filled with snow; though now it is June。 But each of these white expanses
  is   shrinking;   spending   itself   in   ice…cold   streams   that   somehow   reach   the
  lake。 These sn*…flaks show no sign of life; not even the 'red…snow' tinge;
  and around each is a belt of barren earth; to testify that life and warmth
  can never be divorced。
  Birdless and lifeless; the gray…green snow…pied waste extends over all
  the stretch that is here between the timber…line and the snow…line; above
  which winter never quits its hold。 Farther north both come lower; till the
  timber…line is at the level of the sea; and all the land is in that treeless belt
  called     Tundra     in  the   Old    World;    and    Barrens     in  the   New;     and   that
  everywhere is the Home of the Reindeerthe Realm of the Reindeer…moss。
  I
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  In   and   out   it  flew;  in  and   out;  over   the   water   and    under;   as  the
  Varsimle'; the leader doe of the Reindeer herd; walked past on the vernal
  banks; and it sang:
  〃Skoal!     Skoal!    Gamle     Norge     Skoal!〃    and    more    about    〃a  White
  Reindeer and Norway's good luck;〃 as though the singer were gifted with
  special insight。
  When   old   Sveggum   built   the   Vand…dam   on   the   Lower   Hoifjeld;   just
  above the Utrovand; and set his ribesten a…going; he supposed that he was
  the owner of it all。 But some one was there before him。 And in and out of
  the spouting stream this some one dashed; and sang songs that he made up
  to fit the place   and the   time。   He skipped   from skjaeke   to skjaeke   of the
  wheel; and did many things which Sveggum could set down only to luck
  whatever that is; and some said that Sveggum's luck was a Wheel…troll; a
  Water…fairy; with a brown coat and a white beard; one that lived on land or
  in water; as he pleased。
  But    most    of  Sveggum's      neighbors     saw   only   a  Fossekal;     the  little
  Waterfall   Bird   that   came   each   year   and   danced   in   the   stream;   or   dived
  where the pool is deep。 And maybe both were right; for some of the very
  oldest peasants will tell you that a Fairy…troll may take the form of a man
  or the form of a bird。 Only this bird lived a life no bird can live; and sang
  songs that men never had sung in Norway。 Wonderful vision had he; and
  sights   he   saw   that   man   never   saw。   For   the   Fieldfare   would   build   before
  him; and the Lemming fed its brood under his very eyes。 Eyes were they
  to see; for the dark speck on Suletind that man could barely glimpse was a
  Reindeer; with half…shed coat; to him and the green slime on the Vandren
  was beautiful green pasture with a banquet spread。
  Oh;    Man    is  so   blind;  and    makes    himself    so   hated!   But   Fossekal
  harmed   none;   so   none   were   afraid   of   him。   Only   he   sang;   and   his   songs
  were sometimes mixed with fun and prophecy; or perhaps a little scorn。
  From the top of the tassel…birch he could mark the course of the Vand…
  dam stream past the Nystuen hamlet to lose itself in the gloomy waters of
  Utrovand or by a higher flight he could see across the barren upland that
  rolled to Jotunheim in the north。
  The great awakening was on now。 The springtime had already reached
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  the woods; the valleys were a…throb with life; new birds coming from the
  south; winter sleepers reappearing; and the Reindeer that had wintered in
  the lower woods should soon again be seen on the uplands。
  Not without a fight do the Frost Giants give up the place so long their
  own;     a  great   battle   was    in  progress;    but   the   Sun   was    slowly;    surely
  winning; and driving them back to their Jotunheim。 At every hollow and
  shady place they  made   another stand;   or sneaked back by  night; only  to
  suffer   another   defeat。   Hard   hitters   these;   as   they   are   stubborn   fighters;
  many a granite rock was split and shattered by their blows in reckless fight;
  so that its inner fleshy tints were shown and warmly gleamed among the
  gray…green   rocks   that   dotted   the plain;   like the  countless   flocks   of Thor。
  More   or   less   of   these   may   be   found   at   every   place   of   battle…brunt;   and
  straggled   along   the   slope   of   Suletind   was   a   host   that   reached   for   half   a
  mile。 But stay! these moved。 Not rocks were they; but living creatures。
  They   drifted   along   erratically;   yet   one   way;   all   up   the   wind。   They
  swept   out   of sight   in   a hollow;   to   reappear   on   a   ridge   much   nearer;   and
  serried there against the sky; we marked their branching horns; and knew
  them for the Reindeer in their home。
  The band came drifting our way; feeding like Sheep; grunting like only
  themselves。 Each one found a grazing…spot; stood there till it was cleared
  off; then trotted on crackling hoofs to the front in search of another。 So the
  band   was   ever   changing   in   rank   and   form。   But