The Bridge on the Drina - PDFDrive.com

by Ivo Andrić

  Then the stranger began to draw for himself, with open cards. When he got to

  twenty-sevenhestoppedandlookedMilanintheeyes,butMilanlookedaway.

  The stranger turned another card. It was a two. He sighed quickly, scarcely

  audibly.Itseemedthathewouldstandpatattwenty-nineandthebloodbeganto

  flowbacktoMilan'sheadinajoyfulpresentimentofvictory.Thenthestranger

  started,expandedhischestandthrewbackhisheadsothathiseyesandforehead

  shone in the moonlight and turned up another card. Another two. It seemed

  impossiblethatthreetwosshouldturnuponeaftertheother,butsoitwas.On

  the turned-up card Milan seemed to see his field, ploughed and harrowed as it

  was in spring when it was at its best. The furrows whirled about him as in

  delirium,butthecalmvoiceofthestrangerrecalledhimtohimself.

  'Otuzbir! Thefieldismine!'

  Thencametheturnoftheotherfields,thenbothhousesandthentheoakgrove

  atOsojnica.Theyinvariablyagreedonthevalues.SometimesMilanwouldwin

  andwouldsnatchuptheducats.Hopeshonebeforehimlikegoldbutaftertwo

  orthreeunluckyhandshewasagainwithoutmoneyandagainbeganstakinghis

  property.

  When the game had swept away everything like a torrent both players stopped

  foramoment,nottotakebreathforbothofthemitseemedfearedtodoso,but

  to consider what else they could wager. The stranger was calm like a

  conscientious worker who has finished the first part of his task and wants to

  hasten on with the second. Milan remained tense as if turned to ice; his blood

  was beating in his ears and the stone seat beneath him rose and fell. Then the

  strangersuggestedinthatmonotonous,even,somewhatnasalvoice:

  'Doyouknowwhat,friend?Letushaveonemoreturnatthecards,butallfor

  all. I will wager all that I have gained tonight and you your life. If you win, everythingwillbeyoursagainjustasitwas,money,cattleandlands.Ifyoulose,

  youwillleapfromthe kapia intotheDrina.'

  He said this in the same dry and business-like voice as he had said everything

  else,asifitwereaquestionofthemostordinarywagerbetweentwogamblers absorbedbytheirplay.

  Soithascometolosingmysoulorsavingit,thoughtMilanandmadeaneffort

  torise,toextricatehimselffromthatincomprehensiblewhirlpoolthathadtaken

  everythingfromhimandevennowdrewhimonwithirresistibleforce,butthe

  strangersenthimbacktohisplacewithaglance.Asiftheyhadbeenplayingat

  the inn for a stake of three or four grosh he lowered his head and held out his hand.Theybothcut.ThestrangercutafourandMilanaten.Itwashisturnto

  deal and that filled him with hope. He dealt and the stranger asked for a

  completenewhand.

  'More!More!More!'

  Themantookfivecardsandonlythensaid:'Enough!'NowitwasMilan'sturn.

  Whenhereachedtwenty-eighthestoppedforasecond,lookedatthecardsinthe

  stranger'shandandathisenigmaticface.Hewasunabletogetanyideaathow

  many the stranger had stopped, but it was exceedingly likely that he had more

  thantwenty-eight;firstly,becausealleveninghehadneverstoppedatlowscores

  and secondly, because he had five cards. Summoning the last of his strength

  Milan turned over one more card. It was a four; that meant thirty-two. He had

  lost.

  He looked at the card but was unable to believe his eyes. It seemed to him

  impossiblethatheshouldhavelosteverythingsoquickly.Somethingfieryand

  noisy seemed to course through him, from his feet to his head. Suddenly

  everything became clear; the value of life, what it meant to be a man and the

  meaning of his curse, that inexplicable passion to gamble with friends or

  strangers,withhimselfandwithallaroundhim.Allwasclearandlightasifthe

  dayhaddawnedandhehadonlybeendreamingthathehadgambledandlost,

  buteverythingwasatthesametimetrue,irrevocableandirreparable.Hewanted

  tomakesomesound,togroan,tocryoutforhelp,evenwereitonlyasigh,but

  hecouldnotsummonupenoughstrength.

  Beforehimthestrangerstoodwaiting.

  Then,allofasudden,acockcrowedsomewhereonthebank,highandclear,and

  immediatelyafter,asecond.Itwassonearthathecouldhearthebeatingofits

  wings. At the same time the scattered cards flew away as if carried off by a

  storm, the money was scattered and the whole kapia rocked to its foundations.

  Milanclosedhiseyesinfearandthoughtthathislasthourhadcome.Whenhe

  openedthemagainhesawthathewasalone.Hisopponenthadvanishedlikea

  soapbubbleandwithhimthecardsandthemoneyfromthestoneflags.

  Anorange-colouredmoonswamonthehorizon.Afreshbreezebegantoblow.

  The roar of waters in the depths became louder. Milan tentatively fingered the

  stoneonwhichhewassitting,tryingtocollecthimself,torememberwherehe

  was and what had happened; then he rose heavily and as if on someone else's

  legsmovedslowlyhomewardtoOkolište.

  Groaningandstaggeringhescarcelyreachedthedoorofhishousebeforehefell

  likeawoundedman,strikingthedoorheavilywithhisbody.Thoseinthehouse,

  wakenedbythenoise,carriedhimtobed.

  For two months he lay in fever and delirium. It was thought that he would not

  survive. Pop Nikola came and consecrated the holy oils. None the less he

  recoveredandgotupagain,butasadifferentman.Hewasnowamanoldbefore

  histime,aneccentricwholivedinaworldapart,whospokelittleandassociated

  with other men as little as possible. On his face, which never smiled, was an

  expression of painful and concentrated attention. He concerned himself only

  withhisownhouseandwentabouthisownbusiness,asifhehadneverheardof

  companyorofcards.

  During his illness he had told Pop Nikola all that had happened that night on

  the kapia, and later he told it all to two good friends of his, for he felt that he could not go on living with that secret on his mind. The people heard the

  rumoursofwhathadhappenedbut,asifwhathadactuallyhappenedhadbeena

  smallmatter,theyaddedfurtherdetailsandelaboratedthewholestory,andthen,

  asisusuallythecase,turnedtheirattentionelsewhereandforgotallaboutMilan

  and his experience. So what was left of the onetime Milan Glasičanin lived,

  worked and moved among the townsfolk. The younger generation only knew

  himashewasintheirtimeandneversuspectedthathehadbeendifferent.And

  he himself seemed to have forgotten everything. When, descending from his

  housetothetown,hecrossedthebridgewithhisheavyslowsleepwalker'sstep,

  hepassedbythe kapia withouttheleastemotion,evenwithoutanymemoryof

  it. It never even crossed his mind that that
sofa with its white stone seats and carefreecrowdcouldhaveanyconnectionwiththatterribleplace,somewhereat

  theendsoftheearth,wherehehadonenightplayedhislastgame,stakingona

  deceivingcardallthathepossessed,evenhisownlifeinthisworldandthenext.

  OftenMilanaskedhimselfifallthatnightepisodeonthe kapia hadbeenonlya

  dreamwhichhehaddreamtashelayunconsciousbeforethedoorofhishouse,

  the consequence and not the cause of his illness. To tell the truth, both Pop Nikola and those two friends in whom he had confided were more inclined to

  regardthewholeofMilan'staleasahallucination,afantasywhichhadappeared

  tohiminafever.Fornoneofthembelievedthatthedevilplayed otuzbir orthat

  hewouldtakeanyonehewishedtodestroytothe kapia. Butourexperiencesare

  oftensoheavyandcloudedthatitisnowonderthatmenjustifythemselvesby

  theinterventionofSatanhimself,consideringthatthisexplainsthemoratleast

  makesthemmorebearable.

  Butwhethertrueornot,withthedevil'shelporwithoutit,indreamorinfact,it

  wassurethatMilanGlasičanin,sincehehadlosthishealthandhisyouthanda

  large sum of money overnight, had by a miracle been finally liberated for ever

  fromhisvice.Andnotonlythat.TothestoryofMilanGlasičaninwasaddedyet

  anothertaleofyetanotherdestiny,whosethreadstartedalsofromthe kapia.

  The day after the night when Milan Glasičanin (in dream or in waking) had

  playedhisterriblefinalgameonthe kapia dawnedasunnyautumnday.Itwasa

  Saturday.AsalwaysonSaturdays,theVišegradJews,merchantswiththeirmale

  children,weregatheredonthe kapia. At leisure and in formal dress, with satin trousers and woollen waistcoats, with dull red shallow fezzes on their heads,

  theystrictlyobservedtheSabbathDay,walkingbesidetheriverasiflookingfor

  someoneinit.Butforthemostparttheysatonthe kapia, carryingonloudand

  livelyconversationsinSpanish,onlyusingSerbianwhentheywantedtoswear.

  Amongthefirsttoarriveonthe kapia thatmorningwasBukusGaon,theeldest

  sonofthepious,poorandhonestbarber,AvramGaon.Hewassixteenandstill

  hadnotfoundpermanentworkoraregularoccupation.Theyoungman,unlike

  all the other Gaons, was somewhat scatter-brained and this had prevented him

  from behaving reasonably and settling down to a trade, and drove him to look

  for something higher and better for himself. When he wanted to sit down, he

  lookedtoseeiftheseatwasclean.Itwaswhiledoingthisthathesaw,inacrack

  betweentwostones,athinlineofshiningyellow.Thatwastheshineofgold,so

  dear to men's eyes. He looked more closely. There could be no doubt; a ducat

  hadsomehowfallenthere.Theyoungmanlookedaroundhim,toseeifanyone

  waswatching,andsearchedforsomethingtopryloosetheducatwhichlaughed

  at him from its hiding place. Then suddenly he remembered that it was a

  Saturdayandthatitwouldbeashameandasintodoanykindofwork.Excited

  and embarrassed, he went on sitting on that spot and did not move until noon.

  WhenitwastimeforlunchandalltheJews,oldandyoung,hadgonehome,he

  foundathickbarleystalkand,forgettingthesinandtheholyday,carefullypried

  theducatloosefrombetweenthestones.ItwasarealHungarianducat,thinand weighingnomorethanadeadleaf.Hewaslateforlunch.Whenhesatdownat

  the sparse table around which all thirteen of them (eleven children, father and

  mother)weresitting,hedidnothearhowhisfatherscoldedhimandcalledhima

  lazywastrelwhocouldnotevenbeintimeforlunch.Hisearshummedandhis

  eyesweredazzled.Beforehimopenedthosedaysofunheard-ofluxuryofwhich

  he had often dreamed. It seemed to him that he was carrying the sun in his

  pocket.

  Nextday,withoutmuchreflection,BukuswenttoUstamujić'sinnandedgedhis

  wayintothatlittleroomwhereatalmostanytimeofthedayornightthecards

  were in play. He had always dreamed of doing this, but had never had enough

  moneytodaretogoinandtryhisluck.Nowhewasabletorealizethatdream.

  Therehepassedseveralhoursfilledwithanguishandemotion.Atfirsttheyhad

  all greeted him with disdain and mistrust. When they saw him change the

  Hungarian ducat they at once thought that he had stolen it from someone but

  theyagreedtoaccepthimandhisstake(forifgamblersquestionedtheoriginof

  everystake,thegamewouldneverbegin).Butthenfreshmiseriescommenced

  for the beginner. Whenever he won, the blood rushed to his head and his eyes

  clouded with sweat and heat. When he made a rather greater loss it seemed to

  him that he stopped breathing and his heart died. But despite all his torments,

  eachofwhichseemedinsoluble,henonethelesslefttheinnthateveningwith

  fourducatsinhispocket.Thoughhewasbrokenandfeverishwithemotionasif

  he had been beaten with fiery rods, he walked proud and erect. Before his

  glowingimaginationopenedfarandgloriousprospectswhichthrewaglittering

  sheenoverhispovertyandsweptawaythewholetowndowntoitsfoundations.

  Hewalkedwithasolemnpaceasthoughdrunk.Forthefirsttimeinhislifehe

  wasabletofeelnotonlytheshimmerandthesoundofgoldbutalsoitsweight.

  Thatsameautumn,thoughstillyoungandgreen,Bukusbecameagambleranda

  vagabond and left the family home. Old Gaon shrivelled up from shame and

  griefforhiseldestson,andthewholeJewishcommunityfeltthemisfortuneasif

  ithadbeenitsown.Laterheleftthetownandwentoutintotheworldwithhis

  evil gambler's destiny. And nothing more was ever heard of him for all those

  fourteenyears.Thecauseofallthat,theysaid,wasthat'devil'sducat'whichhe

  hadfoundonthe kapia andhadpriedlooseontheSabbathDay.

  XIII

  Itwasthefourthyearoftheoccupation.Itseemedasifeverythinghadsomehow

  or other calmed down and 'was working'. Even if the sweet peace of Turkish

  timeshadnotbeenrestored,atleastorderhadbeenestablishedaccordingtothe

  new ideas. But then there were once more troubles in the land, fresh troops

  arrived unexpectedly and a guard was once again mounted on the kapia. This

  wasthewayofit.

  ThenewauthoritiesthatyearbeganrecruitinginBosniaandHerzegovina.This

  provoked great agitation among the people, especially the Turks. Fifty years

  before, when the Sultan had introduced the nizam (the first Turkish regular

  army),clothed,drilledandequippedintheEuropeanmanner,theyhadrevolted

  andwagedaseriesofsmallbutbloodywars,fortheywouldnotweartheinfidel

  clothingandputonbeltswhichcrossedoverthechestandsocreatedthehated

  symbolofthecross.Nowtheyhadtoputonthatsameodious'tightclothing'and

  that,furthermore,intheserviceofaforeignrulerofanotherfaith.

  In
thefirstyearsaftertheoccupation,whentheauthoritieshadbegunnumbering

  housesandtakingacensusofthepopulation,thesemeasureshadalreadyexcited

  mistrustamongtheTurksandstirredupundefinedbutdeeplyfeltmisgivings.

  Asalwaysinsuchcases,themostlearnedandrespectedoftheVišegradTurks

  metstealthilytodiscussthesignificanceofthesemeasuresandtheattitudethey

  shouldadopttowardsthem.

  One May morning these leaders gathered on the kapia as if by chance and

  occupied all the seats on the sofa. Peacefully drinking their coffee and looking

  straight in front of them, they talked in whispers of the new and suspicious

  measures of the authorities. They were all ill at ease about the new ideas, the

  very nature of which was contrary to their ideas and habits, for each of them

  considered this interference by the authorities in his personal affairs and his

  family life as an unnecessary and incomprehensible humiliation. But no one

  knewhowtointerprettherealsenseofthisnumbering,norcouldsuggesthowit

  couldbestberesisted.AmongstthemwasAlihodjawhootherwiserarelycame

  to the kapia, for his right ear always throbbed painfully when he happened to lookatthosestonestepsleadinguptothe sola.

  The Višegrad schoolmaster, Husseinaga, a learned and loquacious man,

  interpreted,asthemostcompetentamongstthemtodoso,whatthisnotingdown

  ofhousesbynumberandthiscountingofmenandchildrenmightmean.

  'Thishas,itseems,alwaysbeenaninfidelcustom;thirtyyearsago,ifnotmore,

  therewasaVezirinTravnik,acertainTahirpashaStambolija.Hewasoneofthe

  converted,butfalseandinsincere.HeremainedaChristianinhissoul,ashehad

  oncebeen.Hekept,itissaid,abellbesidehimandwhenhewantedtocallone

  of his servants he would ring this bell like a Christian priest until someone

  answered.ItwasthisTahirpashawhobegantonumberthehousesinTravnikand

  oneachhousehenailedatabletwiththenumber(itwasforthisreasonthathe

  was known as "the nailer"). But the people rebelled and collected all those tabletsfromthehouses,madeapileofthemandsetfiretoit.Bloodwasaboutto