“I would like to have a little workshop here, in front of the window,” he said.
“That’s a good idea,” said Foula. “Then we can use this room for firewood, so you can heat it in the winter if you want. The vegetables can be stored in the other room.”
She took the blankets and the skins back to the house. Tink ran up to his room and fetched the basket with all his wooden animals and carried them over to the potato house.
He placed the animals on the windowsill. Brown and yellow cows, spotted calves, gray and black sheep, light-colored lambs, spotted pigs, and horses polished to a shine. They almost didn’t fit, even though he put them close together.
15
Rossan’s house lay finished, with its back to the hill and the brook gurgling by.
“There’s so much shelter here that you could have a little orchard of elder and apple trees,” he said while he and Tink showed Foula around.
She nodded.
“Yes, if you fenced it securely to keep the sheep out.”
“I’m also planning to make a little front garden with a pair of roses up against the house.”
“And perhaps some herbs?” suggested Foula.
Rossan nodded and invited them inside. The house was like half of one of the others, with a front hall and a staircase up to the attic and a door into the cozy parlor, where he also slept.
The bed and the table and the chairs were new. Rossan had let Kotka’s brother keep the old ones. But the spinning wheel was the same one that Foula had once spent a winter using.
In each of the chair backs was carved a small hole in the shape of a star. That was Tink’s doing. The sun shone in through the window onto one of the chairs and made a little star of light on the stone floor.
“Yes, isn’t that fine,” said Rossan with a smile when Foula noticed it.
They sat down on the bench outside and listened to the water gurgling over the smooth stones in the brook. Rossan’s black sheepdog lay down at his feet, its tail pounding the ground. The dog looked exactly like Myna’s except that it was missing the little white fan on its chest. Their mother had been Rossan’s old Glennie.
A little flock of long-legged sheep looked down at them from the hill. Rossan had brought the best of his animals with him, but when he saw the ram Bandon had brought, he had put down his own.
“No doubt he was a fine animal,” he said, “but that one exceeds them all.”
So the new ram would be father to all Rossan’s lambs in the future, and his wool would become even better.
* * *
Kotka remained in the potato house for a while, but one day he suddenly carried all his things over to Myna’s house.
A few days later they came over to Frid and Foula and told them that they had decided it would be the two of them together from now on.
“I had hoped, of course, that it would be Ravnar,” said Frid. “But you can’t hold it against me, Kotka. One always wishes the best for one’s children. And the best is what you are getting.”
He shook Kotka’s hand and embraced Myna, and Foula prepared a real celebration dinner. Eidi did not help her.
* * *
The summer waned. Showers and sunshine drifted in from the sea. The oats stood golden; the hay was dry and was put in the stable loft. Then there were a few weeks with time for rest before the oats had to be harvested.
Eidi sat knitting in the middle of the day. The yarn Foula had spun for the shawls was so fine that she could only make out the stitches in daylight.
She had found the old braid of her own reddish gold hair, the one she had cut off when she and Tink were on the run from Bandon. She took one hair at a time and knit it into the shawl to strengthen it.
She had already finished one shawl. It was creamy yellow and as fine as a spiderweb. Although it was as big as a normal shawl, it could be crammed together and hidden between a pair of closed hands. Now she was working on the next one.
For a long time Doup had begged Tink to take him out fishing at “the old woman,” and for a long time Tink had promised he would. Now he kept his word, and together they dragged home many baskets of coalfish and small cod.
The boat lay on the warm stones of the beach, smelling of tar. Tink went down to it every day, but he didn’t touch it until Kotka suggested that they start fishing together. Kotka had fished quite a bit as a boy in Eastern Harbor, so Tink didn’t need to teach him anything.
In the mild late-summer weather they could sail far out to sea and return with a mixed load of mackerel, garfish, and herring.
The dry weather held until the oats had been harvested, and the harvest was good. The vegetable garden had never been so bountiful. In the evening when Tink walked across the attic to his room, he bumped into long braids of yellow and red onions and bunches of herbs. The bed smelled of fresh hay. But he missed hearing Ravnar rustling around in his room and felt alone in the large attic.
* * *
One day in early fall Bandon appeared, not over the hilltop but in a boat from Last Harbor. The sails weren’t raised; there was no wind and a quiet mist. Tink stood down at the beach and saw the boat race along, with six big men at the oars and two men in the stern. Ram and Bandon were the last to step on shore when the boat landed.
“You always know when I’m coming,” noted Bandon. “Whether by land or by sea.”
Tink didn’t answer. Bandon turned to his men and gave orders about what they were to bring ashore and what they should leave behind. They were sent over to the potato house. Ram and Bandon went with Tink to Foula and Frid’s.
They had brought their own food, which they spread out on the table, and Eidi added the pot of lamb, potatoes, and cabbage she had prepared for supper. Foula returned from the stable with Cam and a bucket of thick, warm milk. Tink was sent to get Rossan, and when he arrived, they all sat down about the well-set table.
Bandon told them that he had bought the merchant’s estate in Last Harbor, including its inventory and store. He wanted to start trading more here on the west coast.
Then he handed his plate to Foula, who served him a fresh portion of lamb stew.
“You make a good lamb stew,” he said to Eidi. “Have you also had time to knit a shawl for me?”
Eidi nodded.
“Two,” she said.
“I see,” said Bandon appreciatively, with his mouth full of food. “And I have a side of bacon and sacks of beans and tea and sugar for you.”
He had finished chewing and his voice was clear when he said, “Remember that you also promised me a pair of socks!”
“Those I haven’t gotten to.”
“I’ll donate them,” Rossan said.
They finished eating, and Eidi brought out the shawls. She handed them to Bandon and asked him what he had done with his ring.
He looked over at Tink.
“I’ve set it aside. Now she has been gone for such a long time; no ring will bring her back.”
He was speaking of Tink’s mother.
“I thought as well that if I was ever to have a new ring on that finger, I’d first have to take the old one off.”
He smiled at Eidi.
“But then we don’t have anything to pull the shawls through,” she said, disappointed.
“Never mind,” said Bandon. “You’ll get your payment anyway.”
“It’s not about my payment,” she said, “but about my skill.”
She looked at Tink.
“Can I borrow your ring?”
Tink raced up to the attic and got the ring out of his little bag. He tried it for the first time on his way down the stairs. It fit his ring finger. Eidi would never get her shawls through it.
But she did. Very slowly, inch by inch, the creamy yellow one slid through. And Eidi’s own hair had made it so strong that not one stitch broke. With the second, the pearl gray, it went a little more easily. Everyone clapped when she had done it, and she blushed, her light-brown eyes shining.
Bandon turned to Tink.
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“And what do you have to show?”
“Wait a moment,” said Tink, and went over to the potato house.
* * *
Four of the oarsmen were sleeping on the floor. Two sat in front of the hearth and spoke quietly together. They nodded at him when he stepped in. He went over to the table and collected all his animals in a basket. One of the men got up and came over to him.
“I’ve been admiring your animals. Can I buy one for my little boy?”
Tink nodded and handed him the basket so he could choose. The man took a black-spotted cow. Then he noticed a little calf that looked like it and took that as well.
He handed his open wallet to Tink and let him take what he wanted. Tink took a little copper piece for the calf and a big one for the cow.
Then he fetched a piece of dried cod and a piece of chew fish from the attic.
* * *
Bandon looked first at the salted, dried cod and rapped it with his knuckles.
“White and firm, just the way it should be,” he said. He put it down and reached for the next one.
He tasted the dried lumpfish. He cut off a strip, stuffed it in his mouth, and chewed and chewed and finally swallowed.
“I haven’t tasted chew fish like that since I was a boy,” he said, sighing.
Tink handed him the basket of animals. Bandon reached in and took a few of them and stood them on the table. He let his finger glide down the back of one of the polished horses. Tink set the basket aside.
“I’ll buy those from you,” said Bandon. “But I’d better speak with Burd about the fish.”
Tink stuck his thumbs into his belt.
“Burd is dead. You’ll have to settle everything with me.”
“As you wish,” said Bandon, and looked up at him. “One man is as good as another to do business with.”
16
Bandon wanted to visit the Hamlet before he sailed back to Last Harbor. He suggested to Foula that he take a few baskets of vegetables and try to sell them. She had enough of everything except potatoes to spare some. Eidi decided to go along to sell the vegetables for her.
They returned a few days later. Eidi had sold every last onion and carrot and had bought brushes, brooms, and dress material with the money.
Rossan had asked Bandon to see if anyone was selling plants. There had been someone: an old woman from inland had walked the long way out to the fjord with a basket on her back, so now Rossan could plant two apple trees and a couple of beach plums in his little garden. There were four small climbing roses as well, and Rossan gave Foula half. Frid promised her he would build two small driftwood fences on either side of the front door, so the roses could climb up the wall safe from the sheep.
Then it was time to bargain with Bandon. Tink traded for some tools, new fishing lines, more hooks, and a pair of boots for himself, and a new set of clothes and a white shirt for Frid—he thought Burd owed Frid that for his part—and six fine glasses and six new mugs for Foula. Myna wanted flour, tea, and sugar for her work cleaning the fish, and Doup needed boots as well. Myna herself traded a sack of eiderdown for a small flock of geese.
In return, Bandon took all the chew fish and the best of the dried cod and all of Tink’s animals. The cod-liver oil was of no interest. You could get that everywhere, he said. But he gave Tink a little oil lamp on top of everything else so he could use the oil himself.
Then it was the others’ turn. Eidi got her bacon and beans, her tea and sugar. And Rossan got a can of tobacco, his plants, and a little tea and sugar for his knitted socks. Foula traded some more of the vegetables for flour and linen and a new bottle of brandy. Frid sold all of Ravnar’s skins and a few of his own and asked Bandon to take the money and a greeting to Ravnar.
* * *
Toward evening the boat lay loaded and ready to sail the next morning. A little wind rippled the water, and the sun tried in vain to break through. Orange islands in the gray sea of clouds announced that the sun was setting.
Eidi came running after Tink down to the beach.
“I’m going with them tomorrow,” she said, out of breath.
He stuck his hands in his pockets.
“I can become manager of the new merchant’s estate in Last Harbor if I go to Eastern Harbor and apprentice for a year.”
He could feel the small, almost marble-round stone he had found the other day.
“Are you coming back?” he asked, and took the stone out of his pocket.
She put her arm around his shoulder and gave him a squeeze. “Oh, Tinkerlink. Of course we’ll see each other again.” She tousled his brown hair. “You can have my room,” she said. Then she turned around and ran back to the house.
The stone disappeared in the water with a plop.
* * *
The reddish-brown sails had been raised, and everyone in Crow Cove waved to Eidi when she sailed away. And Tink knew that on the hand she waved back was a slender gold ring with a green emerald.
When the ship had disappeared from sight, they all went on with their various activities. First Tink helped Rossan with the orchard. One day the little bristling sticks he carried water up to from the brook would be real apple trees.
Frid was busy plowing, so Tink made the fence for Foula’s roses. A small picket fence with pointy planks and a rhombus-shaped cutout in the tip of every plank. It was easy as could be with his new tools.
In the evening Tink went over to the workshop in the potato house and hung his new oil lamp on the wall. It spread a warm, soft light across the table. He took a block of dark wood with a fine grain and began to whittle.
He didn’t know what it was going to be, but slowly a bear appeared. It stood on its hind legs with its big paws spread out and its head tilted a little sadly. With his new woodcutting irons he grooved the fur and gave the bear pads on its front paws. Finally he burned two brown eyes. Then he placed the bear on the empty windowsill.
That night he slept in his new room for the first time. Early the next morning he was awakened by the sound of small, bare feet, running into his room.
Cam hesitated in the doorway with a cow in each hand.
“Hello,” said Tink happily, and Cam ran over and crawled up next to him in the bed.
* * *
One morning Cam slept late, and Tink woke on his own. He got up and went outside. The grass and the stones were covered by a thin layer of hoarfrost, and above the hill a star blinked in the light morning sky.
Tink walked down to the brook and washed his face. The water was freezing. He dried his hands by running them through his hair. Then his legs started walking on their own, across the bridge, past Myna’s house, where the smoke began to rise at that very moment. The frost crunched faintly under his feet. One of the wild goats looked down from the hill. It was black as a shadow. It slowly lowered its curved horns. A stone rattled out to the side of the trail, rolling toward the stream, and the goat disappeared in a leap. On the opposite bank lay Rossan’s little house, shuttered in the morning chill.
Finally he reached the hollow where the graves were. Here the sun had had time to melt the frost, and the grass dripped with moisture. Small drops twinkled in the tall straw. A wet and withered wreath of yellow goosegrass lay on Burd’s grave, which was now the same height as the others.
Tink stepped to the edge of the grave and looked out over the cove. Far away at the water’s edge he could glimpse the tarred hut and the dark boat. The sky was clear, and all the stars were extinguished.
Slowly the words rose up in him, the words he had wanted to say at Burd’s burial.
“Thank you for saving me.”
He felt a new sensation in his stomach, like a closed hand, warm and strong and confident.
And even though no sound had passed his lips, he was sure that Burd and the gray stones, the sky and the sea had heard him.
Then he turned and walked back to Crow Cove, the place he belonged, where he had decided to stay.
THE CHILDREN OF CROW COVE SERI
ES BY BODIL BREDSDORFF
The Crow-Girl
Eidi
Tink
Text copyright © 1994 by Bodil Bredsdorff
English translation © 2011 by Elisabeth Kallick Dyssegaard
Map © 2011 by Jeffrey L. Ward
Originally published in Danish by Høst & Son under the title Tink: Børnene i Kragevig 3
Published in agreement with Høst & Son represented by ICBS, Copenhagen
All rights reserved
First edition, 2011
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