The Birds

by Tarjei Vesaas

  “It’s the best idea you’ve ever had!” he finished.

  Hege had to tell him the truth.

  “I didn’t mean it seriously, you know. There isn’t anyone to row across.”

  “You’re not going to be like that, are you?” he said angrily, but by no means crushed. “Are you trying to fool me?”

  “I said there wasn’t anyone.”

  Then she reflected, and added quickly: “Actually, now that I come to think of it, maybe you ought to have a go. No harm in trying for a while. It’ll keep you busy, too.”

  Her words seemed like a distant murmur to Mattis, something that didn’t concern him. She didn’t realize what she’d started. For his own part he felt a turning point had been reached. A way was opening up before him.

  He only stopped working after the blows of the hammer had turned his thumb black and blue. It was so dark by then that he no longer saw the difference between his thumb and the nails.

  As he walked up the slope he reflected that it had been a good summer, even though the woodcock was lying under the stone.

  III

  28

  FERRYMAN FROM TODAY. The thought sent a warm glow through Mattis.

  The surface of the lake was like a mirror and it lay there waiting for him.

  Hege had obviously been pressing the ferryman idea, which had come tumbling so suddenly from her lips. And Mattis half understood why: she was glad she wouldn’t have to see him wandering about here all day with nothing to do. Glad to get rid of him for a bit in fact. But Mattis was so grateful to her for her idea that the motives behind it didn’t really upset him very much.

  She made some sandwiches and wrapped them up.

  “Is it all for me?”

  “Well, it’s got to last all day, hasn’t it? Or are you thinking of coming back right away?”

  “No, no, of course not,” he said. It sounded as though he were making her a promise.

  Hege told him about all the things a ferryman has to do when he’s on duty, too.

  “And even if nobody comes right away and shouts for the ferryman, the ferryman just has to wait and wait.”

  Mattis looked at her, and all of a sudden she started blushing. She had been caught in something she didn’t want to acknowledge.

  “I suppose I row across where it’s narrowest?” he asked when he was ready to go.

  “Yes, I think that’s what they do.”

  “But suppose it isn’t narrow anywhere? What can I do then?”

  “Well, then you’ll just have to shift in and out,” said Hege, and this was a decision that pleased him. His parting words were as they should be: “See you this evening.”

  Hege nodded.

  Things were going smoothly.

  Mattis sat down in the boat, placed the oars in their correct position – and then it was only a question of waiting.

  On this side of the lake there was no sign of anyone who wanted to go across. But he had to keep an eye on both sides, so after a while he rowed out from the shore. He had no timetable to keep to, and it was exciting to try out the boat after all the repair work he’d done. And it was such a relief to have found a permanent job at long last. No more waiting till someone took pity on him on the farms, no more of those dreadful days trying to work with the strong and clever ones. And a job like this, he thought, reaching forward and giving long pulls at the oars. As soon as I’ve earned enough money to buy a new boat I’ll stop using this old hulk. The better the boat, the more people will want to use it. And then perhaps the people I want to row most of all will come.

  He rowed in a dead straight line. His thoughts didn’t stray. I must have been born to row on a lake, he said to himself. Imagine wasting so much of my life on all sorts of other things.

  I might just as well row right across and wait there for a while.

  But as he drew close to the blue slopes of the western shore, he saw there was nobody waiting there either. Well, that was quite natural, seeing it was his first day. People would have to get to know about the new ferryman before they started queuing up for his services.

  He rowed along slowly, close to the shore, to see if there was any track leading down out of the forest. No. He would have to wait without a track – somewhere or other where the boat could be maneuvered right onto the shore. The ferryman must always wait, those were Hege’s words.

  Mattis was feeling fine, lying contentedly in the bottom of the boat, and letting the sun shine straight into his face. The boat smelled strongly of tar, a pleasant smell that came from the new rags that had been pushed and nailed into place the evening before. The sunbaked shore had a faint, pleasant smell of its own.

  Mattis stretched, happy and relaxed.

  And I’m fully employed as well! Lying here and loafing about.

  He couldn’t help laughing.

  Lie there as long as he would, no one came. He pushed the boat out again and set course for his own shore. There might well be someone sitting there waiting by now. The news was bound to spread as time went on and people noticed he was rowing straight across, on a sort of regular service.

  That’s what it’s like being a ferryman, you’ve got to be everywhere at once—but how can you?

  He liked murmuring the word ferryman – that was what he was now, and it didn’t sound at all bad. I bet there isn’t a ferryman who rows straighter. You can’t row straighter than straight. Pity the wake disappears so quickly, it ought to stay on the water for days, covering it with streaks.

  There wasn’t anyone on his own shore either, when he finally got there. He would have liked to have taken five minutes off now, and nipped up to see Hege, but he resisted the temptation. He sat loyally on the shore eating his sandwiches. Hege shouldn’t have any cause to be angry with him this time, he wouldn’t be a burden to her any longer; here he was, eating his sandwiches.

  Hush.

  He listened.

  In fact he had been listening all the time. And wasn’t someone calling, over from the hills in the west? He stopped chewing so he could hear better. Listened for a long time with his mouth full of bread. No, no one could shout across a lake as wide as that. And yet someone was shouting!

  Mattis began rowing at once. Surely there was something familiar about the shout, too. It could have been Hege, but that was impossible for the simple reason that Hege was on this side of the lake.

  Hege’s calling, far away on the other side, he mumbled, and suddenly he stopped dead.

  Is someone calling?

  A call like that on my very first day. Anyone who can shout across a lake this size, why, I’m almost frightened of them. But it is Hege—

  Nonsense.

  A good thing it isn’t night. But I suppose they have to go out in the middle of the night, too, ferrymen. People call across the water in darkness as well as in light.

  At least the calls had stopped now. Mattis heaved the oars, arrived covered in sweat after so much hard work in the hot sun. That didn’t matter. He was managing to cope with ferrying, that was the main thing. His thoughts held the oars in their proper place.

  But there was no one there. No one to been seen or heard. The hills on this side were long, gentle, tree-covered slopes, which reached a great height. It was all forestland, not a house anywhere. No one lived beyond the highest ridge, either, there was nothing but deserted moorland up there.

  Who had been calling?

  No one, of course, you can’t shout right across the lake, he said in a stern voice. But there was something wrong here. Mattis took his job as a ferryman so seriously that someone was bound to come down from the hillside soon. Ferrymen had to meet people like this. The hillside lay deserted. Who was it that shouted so loud that the sound carried farther than an ordinary voice?

  Perhaps the ferryman had to give a signal himself? He got up from his seat and shouted hey! in a loud and frightened voice. It wasn’t an easy thing to do.

  The echo answered, no one else.

  “Here I am!” Mattis shou
ted at the mysterious hillside that held a thousand secrets.

  No, no one came down. No one needed a ferry on this side of the lake.

  This wasn’t as it should be.

  Yes, but Hege did say it was a question of waiting and waiting, he tried to comfort himself.

  But somebody was calling me!

  He listened so intently that everything else, too, seemed somehow to die away to an attentive whisper.

  Then came a call from the other side of the lake. From his own shore. The voice to whom distance meant nothing. And once again it was Hege’s lonely voice, calling for the ferry, or whatever it was.

  “Alright!” he answered in trembling tones, swinging his wretched little boat around. But it’s a long way!

  Must be because it’s my first day, he thought in bewilderment.

  Once again he was on his way. But progress was slow, after all, he couldn’t row at top speed the whole time. But everyone’ll get across all the same, he promised.

  He was still keeping a dead straight line. Nothing wrong with his rowing. He pulled and tugged at the oars, arrived back at his own shore, saw with horror that there was no one waiting there. Nothing but the familiar, deserted stretch of the beach at the bottom of the slope below the cottage. He gulped. This filled him with fear. The familiar shore filled him with fear and panic. There was only one thing to do now: get back home to Hege. He refused to believe that it was really she who’d been calling him.

  Mattis secured the boat and hurried up the hill. Didn’t feel like looking behind him.

  Hege was busy knitting, as calm as could be. She didn’t show any sign of irritation at seeing her brother back so soon. She just said: “Home already?”

  “It’s not like you think!” he said. “There’s something odd happening on the lake today!”

  “Odd?”

  “You’ve been calling down there!” he said, hysterically. “What do you say to that?”

  “Don’t talk nonsense, Mattis.”

  “As soon as I’m on one side, there’s a call from the other! And it’s your voice. Right across the lake. Is that odd or isn’t it?”

  “There are no calls like that,” she said quickly. She was disturbed, that was obvious.

  “But you know how good I am at hearing things,” said Mattis.

  “No, you’re just too keen on this ferrying job of yours and you imagine you’re hearing all kinds of things. You don’t want to listen for things that aren’t there, you know. Just go back and carry on as before. There’s nothing odd out on the lake.”

  Her words had a soothing effect on him.

  “I wasn’t thinking of giving up.”

  “I know. Off with you now.”

  Comforted, he went back down to the lake. But no sooner had he reached the boat than he began listening. And very soon he heard all sorts of strange sounds. Above them all came the sound he wanted to hear: the call for the ferry, commanding, inquiring, and in Hege’s voice, just as before.

  It must be because I’ve got a permanent job for the first time in my life, he thought. That’s why I can’t help hearing all sorts of things. That’s what Hege said, too.

  And a call for the ferry was what he wanted to hear, after all. He couldn’t really understand why those who were calling didn’t show themselves, but that was bound to alter soon.

  It was a real strain. They want to put me to the test my first day, he thought. And I won’t fail!

  He swung the boat around and set course for the distant hills in the west, another tiring trip across.

  There were no calls to be heard.

  At long last he arrived at the other side, his arms aching. He was prepared to find the shore deserted and every kind of terror waiting for him. The day had begun with fun and laughter – now it was tense and tiring. But a test was a test – the boat grated against the bottom, and Mattis stood erect and mastered the unfamiliar situation.

  He turned toward the mysteries of the deserted shore in an effort to make them reveal themselves.

  “Give a call, if you’re there!” he shouted up at the hillside. He was tired out and crazy with suspense, forced himself up onto his toes so he stood taller and straighter than usual, leaned on the oars, ready to push off at once if whatever appeared should prove too horrible.

  “Come out!” he said.

  No one came. The hillside lay before him with a thousand hiding places. He was becoming frantic, grew white-faced and frightened because no one came.

  “Here I am!” he yelled. His feeble head couldn’t take anymore.

  “Right-oh!” came the reply at last. High up on the tree-covered hillside. A single word of reply.

  Mattis jumped as if he had been stung. This wasn’t Hege, this was no mystery voice – it was a real person like himself, the call of a man.

  Who have I called?

  Well, it’s a real person at least.

  It was quiet up there now, but there was a man on his way down.

  Mattis stood in the same position as before, ready to flee at short notice. No one told him that this wasn’t the way for a ferryman to behave. He pushed the boat out and lay bobbing up and down close to the shore with his oars out of the water.

  I bet ferrymen often have to sit like this, he said to himself as an excuse.

  Oh no! he thought from time to time. Oh no!

  Meanwhile the unknown person was coming down the hillside, hidden by the forest. After all the shouting this felt uncanny, too, although it was natural enough. But it was no doubt a test, and Mattis was determined not to fail.

  “Here!” he shouted, to give his position.

  “Alright,” came the reply, much nearer than before.

  A man’s voice.

  There he was.

  Suddenly a man emerged from the shrubs at the edge of the forest and stood in full view on the shore. He caught sight of Mattis, waved to him and came across.

  Mattis sat for a bit letting his ridiculous fears trickle gently away, like the rain running off a hat. What had he expected to see?

  The person coming toward him was as ordinary as could be: a man with a backpack. Mattis let the boat bump against the shore, stern foremost, to make it easy for the man to get in. It was wonderful to be a ferryman for the first time.

  “It’s the ferryman you’re looking for, I suppose?” he said eagerly, before the stranger had uttered a word. “That’s my job on this lake.”

  The stranger looked pleased.

  “Yes, things have turned out very well,” he said. “The weather was so nice today that I came straight over the mountains, and what I thought I’d do was walk along by the lake till I reached habitation. Then I reckoned I could get someone to row me across if I paid them. I didn’t realize it was so desolate on this side, I’ve never been here before.”

  “There’s a proper ferry service here from today,” said Mattis. “It’s my very first day. And you’re my very first passenger. Do you want to go straight across? My home’s straight across from here. Well, and Hege lives there too, of course.”

  Mattis was so happy he forgot to explain what he was talking about. The man didn’t seem to care much, either.

  “It’s all the same to me,” he answered a bit crossly. “But take the shortest route. That is, if this boat’ll take two. I’m not sure if it will. So I wouldn’t really call it an actual ferryboat.”

  While he was talking disparagingly about the boat, he got in and took off his heavy pack. An ax handle stuck up by the flap – the man was probably a lumberjack coming to look for work. A really fine lumberjack – with muscles that tore his sleeves perhaps? That was what he looked like.

  “Give me a chance,” said Mattis. “You can’t expect me to have made enough money to buy a new boat if you’re my first passenger. I haven’t earned a penny so far.”

  “What do you live on, then?” said the man. The answer clearly didn’t interest him, he’d half-turned away from Mattis and was just letting himself be ferried. Mattis was able to take a
good look at him. The way he spoke showed that he came from a long way off. As for age he might be about as old as Mattis himself or perhaps a bit older. His face was neither handsome nor anything else, it just was. He was no tramp as far as clothes were concerned. Everything was just as it should be. The first thing that was obvious was that he was one of the strong and clever ones – like everyone else. But anyway, Mattis was rowing and he was happy.

  “How old are you?” he asked.

  “Forty-three, why?”

  “Nothing,” said Mattis. He would have liked to have said how old he was, but the tone of the other man’s voice stopped him.

  “I might have known it!” said the stranger, angry all of a sudden, grabbing his rucksack which now lay in a pool of water. The boat had been plugged recently, it was true, but only well enough for one person apparently. With two in it, fresh cracks sank below the water line at the same time as the pressure increased.

  Mattis didn’t dare offer any excuse. The boat was letting in water, and the clever stranger had reacted sharply enough. Mattis hurriedly changed the subject and asked: “So had you lost your way? You came down in a place where there was no road.”

  The stranger had explained all this before, but now he answered with a sneer: “I couldn’t have lost my way, could I, ending up just by the ferry like that?”

  My word, this fellow was sharp-witted all right. There he was again: “Do you have a scoop though, or anything like that? We’re not meant to swim, are we?”

  Mattis bent his head. The boat wasn’t good enough. He brought out the scoop, and the man started bailing. He looked pretty angry. Mattis felt exhausted and was rowing slowly, but he kept a straight line.

  They got across. Just before they reached land, the man started speaking again; it was a long time since he’d said anything.

  “Can you help me find somewhere to stay for the night? I’m tired, mind, I don’t want to have to go far.”

  His last words sounded almost like a complaint against Mattis, because he’d taken so long to cross the lake.

  “You can stay with us, seeing the boat let in so much water,” Mattis mumbled shamefacedly.