Pelle the Conqueror | Page 2

seemed about to lift, but closed in again,
leaving only a strip of shore with two old boats lying keel uppermost
upon it. The prow of a third boat and a bit of breakwater showed dimly
in the mist a few paces off. At definite intervals a smooth, gray wave
came gliding out of the mist up over the rustling shingle, and then
withdrew again; it was as if some great animal lay hidden out there in
the fog, and lapped at the land.
A couple of hungry crows were busy with a black, inflated object down
there, probably the carcass of a dog. Each time a wave glided in, they
rose and hovered a few feet up in the air with their legs extended
straight down toward their booty, as if held by some invisible
attachment. When the water retreated, they dropped down and buried
their heads in the carrion, but kept their wings spread, ready to rise
before the next advancing wave. This was repeated with the regularity
of clock-work.

A shout came vibrating in from the harbor, and a little while after the
heavy sound of oars working over the edge of a boat. The sound grew
more distant and at last ceased; but then a bell began to ring--it must
have been at the end of the mole--and out of the distance, into which
the beat of the oars had disappeared, came the answering sound of a
horn. They continued to answer one another for a couple of minutes.
The town was invisible, but now and then the silence there was broken
by the iron tramp of a quarryman upon the stone paving. For a long
time the regular beat of his footsteps could be heard, until it suddenly
ceased as he turned some corner or other. Then a door was opened,
followed by the sound of a loud morning yawn; and someone began to
sweep the pavement. Windows were opened here and there, out of
which floated various sounds to greet the gray day. A woman's sharp
voice was heard scolding, then short, smart slaps and the crying of a
child. A shoemaker began beating leather, and as he worked fell to
singing a hymn--
"But One is worthy of our hymn, O brothers: The Lamb on Whom the
sins of all men lay."
The tune was one of Mendelssohn's "Songs without Words."
Upon the bench under the church wall sat a boat's crew with their gaze
turned seaward. They were leaning forward and smoking, with hands
clasped between their knees. All three wore ear-rings as a preventive of
colds and other evils, and all sat in exactly the same position, as if the
one were afraid of making himself in the very least different from the
others.
A traveller came sauntering down from the hotel, and approached the
fishermen. He had his coat-collar turned up, and shivered in the chill
morning air. "Is anything the matter?" he asked civilly, raising his cap.
His voice sounded gruff.
One of the fishermen moved his hand slightly in the direction of his
head-gear. He was the head man of the boat's crew. The others gazed
straight before them without moving a muscle.

"I mean, as the bell's ringing and the pilot-boat's out blowing her horn,"
the traveller went on. "Are they expecting a ship?"
"May be. You never can tell!" answered the head man unapproachably.
The stranger looked as if he were deeply insulted, but restrained
himself. It was only their usual secretiveness, their inveterate distrust of
every one who did not speak their dialect and look exactly like
themselves. They sat there inwardly uneasy in spite of their wooden
exterior, stealing glances at him when he was not looking, and wishing
him at Jericho. He felt tempted to tease them a little.
"Dear me! Perhaps it's a secret?" he said, laughing.
"Not that I know of," answered the fisherman cautiously.
"Well, of course I don't expect anything for nothing! And besides it
wears out your talking-apparatus to be continually opening and shutting
it. How much do you generally get?" He took out his purse; it was his
intention to insult them now.
The other fishermen threw stolen glances at their leader. If only he did
not run them aground!
The head man took his pipe out of his mouth and turned to his
companions: "No, as I was saying, there are some folks that have
nothing to do but go about and be clever." He warned them with his
eyes, the expression of his face was wooden. His companions nodded.
They enjoyed the situation, as the commercial traveller could see from
their doltish looks.
He was enraged. Here he was, being treated as if he were air and made
fun of! "Confound you fellows! Haven't you even learnt