Pelle the Conqueror Martin Andersen Nexø (readict books TXT) đ
- Author: Martin Andersen Nexø
Book online ÂŤPelle the Conqueror Martin Andersen Nexø (readict books TXT) đÂť. Author Martin Andersen Nexø
âNo, thank you, I think notâ âso early.â
âVery well, please yourself.â
Down at the harbor a number of farmersâ carts were already standing, and fresh ones arrived at full gallop every minute. The newcomers guided their teams as far to the front as possible, examined their neighborsâ horses with a critical eye, and settled themselves into a half-doze, with their fur collars turned up about their ears. Customhouse men in uniform, and pilots, looking like monster penguins, wandered restlessly about, peering out to sea and listening. Every moment the bell at the end of the mole rang, and was answered by the pilot-boatâs horn somewhere out in the fog over the sea, with a long, dreary hoot, like the howl of some suffering animal.
âWhat was that noise?â asked a farmer who had just come, catching up the reins in fear. His fear communicated itself to his horses, and they stood trembling with heads raised listening in the direction of the sea, with questioning terror in their eyes.
âIt was only the sea-serpent,â answered a customhouse officer. âHe always suffers from wind in this foggy weather. Heâs a wind-sucker, you see.â And the customhouse men put their heads together and grinned.
Merry sailors dressed in blue with white handkerchiefs round their necks went about patting the horses, or pricking their nostrils with a straw to make them rear. When the farmers woke up and scolded, they laughed with delight, and sangâ â
âA sailor he must go through
A deal more bad than good, good, good!â
A big pilot, in an Iceland vest and woollen gloves, was rushing anxiously about with a megaphone in his hand, growling like an uneasy bear. Now and then he climbed up on the mole-head, put the megaphone to his mouth, and roared out over the water: âDoâ âyouâ âhearâ âanyâ âthing?â The roar went on for a long time out upon the long swells, up and down, leaving behind it an oppressive silence, until it suddenly returned from the town above, in the shape of a confused babble that made people laugh.
âN-o-o!â was heard a little while after in a thin and long-drawn-out cry from the sea; and again the horn was heard, a long, hoarse sound that came rocking in on the waves, and burst gurgling in the splash under the wharf and on the slips.
The farmers were out of it all. They dozed a little or sat flicking their whips to pass the time. But everyone else was in a state of suspense. A number of people had gradually gathered about the harborâ âfishermen, sailors waiting to be hired, and master-artisans who were too restless to stay in their workshop. They came down in their leather aprons, and began at once to discuss the situation; they used nautical expressions, most of them having been at sea in their youth. The coming of the steamer was always an event that brought people to the harbor; but today she had a great many people on board, and she was already an hour behind time. The dangerous fog kept the suspense at high pressure; but as the time passed, the excitement gave place to a feeling of dull oppression. Fog is the seamanâs worst enemy, and there were many unpleasant possibilities. On the best supposition the ship had gone inshore too far north or south, and now lay somewhere out at sea hooting and heaving the lead, without daring to move. One could imagine the captain storming and the sailors hurrying here and there, lithe and agile as cats. Stop!â âHalf-speed ahead! Stop!â âHalf-speed astern! The first engineer would be at the engine himself, gray with nervous excitement. Down in the engine-room, where they knew nothing at all, they would strain their ears painfully for any sound, and all to no purpose. But up on deck every man would be on the alert for his life; the helmsman wet with the sweat of his anxiety to watch every movement of the captainâs directing hand, and the lookout on the forecastle peering and listening into the fog until he could hear his own heart beat, while the suspense held every man on deck on tenterhooks, and the foghorn hooted its warning. But perhaps the ship had already gone to the bottom!
Everyone knew it all; every man had in some way or other been through this overcharged suspenseâ âas cabin-boy, stoker, captain, cookâ âand felt something of it again now. Only the farmers were unaffected by it; they dozed, woke up with a jerk, and yawned audibly.
The seafarers and the peasants always had a difficulty in keeping on peaceable terms with one another; they were as different as land and sea. But today the indifferent attitude of the peasants made the sea-folk eye them with suppressed rage. The fat pilot had already had several altercations with them for being in his way; and when one of them laid himself open to criticism, he was down upon him in an instant. It was an elderly farmer, who woke from his nap with a start, as his head fell forward, and impatiently took out his watch and looked at it.
âItâs getting rather late,â he said. âThe captain canât find his stall today.â
âMore likely heâs dropped into an inn on the way!â said the pilot, his eyes gleaming with malice.
âVery likely,â answered the farmer, without for the moment realizing the nature of the paths of the sea. His auditors laughed exultingly, and passed the mistake on to their neighbors, and people crowded round the unfortunate man, while someone cried: âHow many inns are there between this and Sweden?â
âYes, itâs too easy to get hold of liquids out there, thatâs the worst of it,â the pilot went on. âBut for that any booby could manage a ship. Heâs only got to keep well to the right of Mads Hansenâs
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