In God's Way: A Novel

by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

But they heard it bark as though a wild beast were confronting it and going to fasten its teeth in it; so they both ran as hard as they could; Kallem was at once far past Sissel. It could hardly be Aune who was in danger; the last shriek had not been so near; the furious beast had attacked the first person it came upon; and who could that be? Since he was a boy Kallem had not run so fast; he could hear by the dog that there was a fight and he pushed on with renewed strength. Soon he saw something large and black by the roadside near the corner of the wood, and it was before this that the dog had stopped. Once again a piercing shriek rang out through the night; it really came from there! What was that great black mass? Surely not an animal?

No, it was a man, a big man fighting with a smaller one, and a dog with both of them. The big man kept turning round and round hitting out at the dog, at the same time keeping fast hold of the other man with his left hand. Then Kallem recognized the broad hat and the broad shoulders; it was Tuft who was holding Aune, holding him with a giant's strength; the dog was trying to attack the latter, who kicked it away from him each time. Maybe Aune thought the dog was the devil and possessed by Kristen Larssen's spirit, for the little man kicked and wriggled, bit, hit out, and struggled to get free; he threw himself backwards and with the last remains of his hoarse voice he groaned, "Help! help!" If he had been frightened before, he became so now in good earnest as he saw Kallem's figure appear in the dim light; he let himself fall and began to howl. The dog flew at his leg directly. The minister lifted them both up; the beast was in such a rage that it did not see Kallem before it got a kick from his foot which sent it flying a few metres off! One short howl and a whine--a doctor knows where to hit--and they neither saw nor heard it again; it may have been dead.

Then Kallem took hold of Aune and the minister let him go. He, too, had been much maltreated; his coat was all torn and dragging on the ground, the sleeve hung in rags down over his hand, his flannel shirt likewise. He was bleeding from bites and scratches, but was so excited that he felt no pain. Kallem took little wretched Aune with both hands by the collar, lifted him up to his level, and, panting from his run and the rapid coursing of his blood, he stared straight into his eyes, until they grew wide open, dazed, and glassy, his mouth gaped, the muscles of the face relaxed, he hung there like a gutted herring. By the time that Sissel reached them, breathless and crying, Aune lay under the trees on the grass and slept. Both the men stood over him.

Kallem said that Aune could stay where he was; there would be no dew on account of the wind; they should be sent for later. He expected to be able to cure this madness.

The minister had taken off his coat, dried the blood, and bound up the worst places; then they turned towards home.

Not a word about Aune, or how it was he had come across him; but hardly were they out on the road before Tuft said piteously:

"She was not there, Edward, she was not there!" And shortly after: "I can think of nothing else; no, now I can think of nothing else. That you could send her away from you, Edward!" The thick foliage of the trees took up the murmur and kept on unceasingly: "That you could send her away, Edward!"

"Do you know what she wrote and put beside the letters from you? 'For my life's sake I go now to my brother's.'"

Kallem felt an icy chill. A thousand voices reechoed: "For my life's sake," and the sound drew nearer, encircling him closer and closer, till he could hardly draw breath.

The day was about to dawn; Tuft's scratched and shiny face was turned toward the rising sun as though he were imploring: "Mercy, mercy for her!" He hurried along as fast as he could; he did not know where to look for her, but he felt he must walk and walk. Kallem too.